#magda mondays

[alexbkrieger13]

[sourwit]

the Kwiatkowski family, being v religious, celebrates xmas according to every custom including midnight mass.

Magda, as the weirdo she is, loves having cups of snow laced with vodka :)

If there is no snow, she will simply put ice and vodka in a cup, drench her bed with cold water and lay in it, sipping on her drink until she passes out underneath extremely cold duvet.

[giulolosblackmail]

Magda can’t swim.

[gurugirl]

Owned

ceo sugar daddy!harry x reader - a check-in for The Arrangement

Summary: Based loosely on this request. Harry brings Y/n to his home and Romy returns at a very bad time.

A/n: This story takes place before Harry and Romy have split. A sort of back-in-time check-in from when Harry & Y/n are still keeping everything on the down low.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, angst, spit/saliva, being overheard having sex

Word Count: 6,220

The Arrangement Masterlist

She was still getting used to the arrangement she had with Harry. Seeing him in the office Monday through Friday and needing to keep everything on the down low was difficult.

And when Romy came into the office that afternoon, Y/n caught sight of her with Harry in his office as he’d left the door open. Their discussion was heated, or at least it appeared that way. As Romy was leaving she gave Y/n a look that felt like she knew something. It felt like somehow Romy knew the secret and the look was a warning.

But of course, Y/n was just being paranoid. The only way for Romy to know was if Harry had told her and she knew he wouldn’t have done that. Romy was aware he was seeing someone for his needs. She just had no idea it was Y/n.

That was just one example of how things were difficult. Because she was no good at lying. No good at hiding the feelings on her face.

Harry noticed the faraway look on Y/n’s when he walked past her desk. She seemed to be deep in thought about something. Normally when he walked by he was the one trying to keep a straight face and Y/n was a shy little purring kitten hoping for him to glance at her just once.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned over her desk and looked down at her.

Y/n was struck out of her thoughts when she heard Harry’s quiet voice.

“Oh! I was just thinking about something. Nothing’s wrong,” she blinked her eyes and then bit her lip to keep her mouth from grinning as wide as she wanted.

He’d done some very inappropriate things to her in private that made her insides melt and her muscles ache for days and yet she still couldn’t get over how giddy she felt when he spoke to her in the office.

“You sure?”

She nodded, “Yeah. I’m sure, sir.” She nodded.

“This is cute,” Harry spoke quietly as he let his eyes travel over her outfit before looking back up to her.

Her ears got warm and her heart pounded wildly at the compliment. Of course, she was wearing something he’d bought her. She loved the soft silk and wool fabric and the fit of the Magda Butrym dress.

“Uh… thank you, Mr. Styles.”

She watched him walk off in a confident stride as she sighed.

A text came an hour later after Harry had finished up a meeting he’d been in.

You’ll come back to my place with me tonight.

She blinked her eyes and grinned at the words for a moment before responding.

Yes, sir.

.           .           .

She’d been to his house before but not like this. Harry told her that Romy was gone for the night and he wanted company from Y/n. But he also wanted to have her in the bed he shared with Romy, though he kept that part to himself. It was kind of a sick fantasy but Romy was more and more withdrawn and Harry couldn’t stop from imagining his sweet girl spread out and dripping all over his marital bed. Felt kind of like a satisfying fuck you to his wife who he was growing sick of looking at.

Harry started dinner right away and Y/n immediately got to work helping him chop and pull ingredients from the fridge.

“What have you been eating lately? Looking a bit thin, Y/n,” Harry said as he pinched her bottom, the silk dress bunching under his forefinger and thumb.

She giggled and then shrugged with a grin, “I don’t know. Pop tarts. Turkey bacon, you know the kind that’s already cooked? Umm… those frozen Schwan’s dinners, I like the veggie lasagna one. Bananas?”

Harry sighed and put his hands on the back of Y/n’s hips, standing behind her, “I’m gonna need to start feeding you properly too aren’t I?” He kissed her temple, “First you need me to dress you and pay all your bills, then you need me to fuck you properly, and now you need me to feed you all your meals too? My poor little helpless thing. Needs Daddy for everything doesn’t she?”

Y/n closed her eyes and stopped cutting the garlic as she felt Harry’s warm lips travel down from her temple to her cheekbone, and the bottom of her chin as she nodded, “I… I mean… I guess maybe. But…”

“Shh, shh…” Harry shushed her, “Don’t overthink, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Y/n was squirmy when they sat at the dinner table to eat. Harry kept the conversation going as they ate but he could tell she was heated and starting to liquefy under his watchful gaze. He loved how pliant and open she got for him. He barely had to do a thing to get her squirming and needy for him.

When their plates were nearly emptied and Harry noticed Y/n’s blown-out pupils he chuckled lowly and got up from his seat, holding a hand out to her, “Up you get. Let’s take care of you. I can see you need me, baby.”

She didn’t know how he did it. No one had her like he did. She’d get shaky with excitement and need from nothing but a mere conversation with him. It was embarrassing. Pathetic. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. There was something about the way he looked at her. Like she was his dinner. His prey. Like he owned her. She loved it. She wanted to be owned by him.

Harry led her up to his bedroom and she went with him in silence. She wouldn’t protest about what she figured was coming once he closed the door and then began to unzip her dress from behind.

She liked the idea of doing it, there. In his bedroom. The one he shared with his wife. It made her feel powerful. Dirty, but powerful.

Harry kissed the top of her spine as he moved her hair to the side and her dress slid down her body and pooled onto the floor at her feet. She was already imagining the way his big cock would stretch her out and destroy her insides. She craved it.

“I like these too,” Harry spoke in a low seductive tone as he plucked at the lacy fabric of her panties.

She mewled at his touch and the way his lips found her neck. He was still standing behind her as he brought his hands up and cupped each breast in his palms. She’d gone sans a bra that day because the dress wouldn’t allow it. Maybe a bit risky for the office but Harry always told her not to worry about what others thought. If they were staring at her tits so hard they could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra that was on them and nothing to be ashamed of.

Suddenly he grabbed her hip and she felt the quick pop and then sting of his palm on her bottom. She gasped as he pushed her forward toward his bed, “Bend over.”

She did so quickly as she smushed her cheek into the mattress and felt the next swat to her other side. A few more spanks to each side as she bit her lip and moaned had him laughing darkly as he bent over her, “There we are. A good spanking for not feeding yourself properly.”

She was pulled up by her elbows and then turned to face him, “There’s that pretty face. Love this,” he put his thumb to the skin under her eye and wiped a tear that had broken free.

“Now, undress me.”

It was a normal part of their foreplay. Harry would have her undress him. Sometimes he’d keep most of his clothes on and just have his cock out so she could suck it or he could use it to fuck her, but most of the time he liked to be without clothes when it came down to it. Less messy that way.

Y/n began by unbuttoning his shirt and Harry watched her with a devilish smirk on his face. Once she’d gotten the last one undone he shrugged the material off himself and gestured for her to get to work on everything he had on below the waist.

Dropping to her knees she looked up at him and undid his belt then opened his pants up before pulling the nice fabric down his legs and to the floor. Harry kicked the pants off and watched as his girl pulled his briefs down slowly. He loved watching her face every time his cock was exposed to her.

She’d suck in a sharp breath and lick her lips and drag her pupils up and down his shaft and rove the deep pink tip with her gaze like he was a delicacy.

“You can kiss it if you want.”

She let out a sigh of relief and hastily ran her lips along his smooth skin and let her tongue lather him in saliva continuing to peek up at him as she went. He gently wound his fingers into her hair and began guiding her mouth downward toward his balls, “Kiss.”

With his cock hung heavy over her face and her hands politely in her lap, her lips pecked along his scrotum and she drooled over his sac as she closed her eyes. She worked her tongue on him slowly, making out with his balls as if she were kissing his lips and he groaned deeply. The girl was good. She was so good and he didn’t know what he was going to do with her. Romy could never give him what Y/n could.

Harry began to pant and Y/n grinned to herself as she kept smoothing her lips over his flesh, her pink tongue laving him with dampness.

“Fuck, little girl. That mouth is so good,” he pulled her hair to move her away from him. She wished she could stroke his cock and feel him in her hand but she knew she had to wait for his instruction to touch.

“Lie down on your back for me, ass at the edge of the bed,” Harry spoke as Y/n quickly stood and positioned herself at the edge of the bed per his instructions.

He pulled her little ruined panties down her legs and grinned at her, “A mess as always.”

Harry pushed her thighs toward her chest, knees pressing into her breasts when she felt the first flick of his tongue at the crease of her labia, just next to her pussy. Then to the other side, “Mmm… this cunt is never dry for me. Always such a treat,” the plunge of his fingers into her entrance had her moaning and grasping at the comforter tightly.

But when she felt his mouth finally slurping and kissing at her clit she whined loudly and let out a breathy wail. Harry laughed as he continued his task.

Long fingers pumping in and out and Harry’s skilled mouth pulling at her clit had her boiling and groaning. He kept her held down tight as she rocked her hips out of instinct. Her wet pussy being fingered and sucked was loud in the room.

“Daddy! Please!” She nearly shouted her words when he pulled his fingers from her and stood up with his cock in his palm.

“I’m just getting started with you sweet girl. Gonna fuck you and then we’re going clean up the kitchen, and then I’m gonna put that pretty leash on you. Maybe have your nipples clothes pinned while you wear a new gift I bought for your ass.”

“A new plug?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. I’ve been thinking about how pretty you’ll look in it all day long,” he thumped his wide cock over her pussy, “Can’t wait to put it in you and see what you think. But right now, you ready for Daddy’s cock, angel?”

She barely even nodded before he was pinning her to the bed with his cock stuffed to the hilt inside of her.

He let out a pitiful moan when he finally felt her on him. It’d been almost a week since he’d last fucked her and he could hardly wait to be inside of her. It was why he couldn’t be bothered to clean up the kitchen before he brought her to his bedroom. He needed to take care of her and himself before cleaning up. He needed her.

Keeping her knees pressed into her chest with his hands holding the insides of her knees down he dragged himself in and out, pressing into her until she was being rocked upward from the force.

She smiled in relief and moaned at each drive of his cock, “Yes, Daddy! Yes…”

“Like it when I fuck you, baby? Like my cock slipping inside you deep?”

“Fuck yes! I love your cock, Daddy!”

She was his good girl. There was no question about that. Loved being told what to do, what to wear, what to say, when to get wet, and loved being fucked by his big cock. Loved choking on it. Loved being gagged and tied up, stuffed with toys.

Harry just wanted to get them off quickly because he’d been so hard up for her all day it hurt. Imagining just this. His cock inside of her, spreading her out, watching her pussy grip him and slather him in her arousal.

The sound of a door closing and then Romy calling out for Harry had him halting the movement of his hips, “Fuck,” he whispered his words as his chest heaved.

He had to think quickly. Obviously, Romy would know someone was there with him. The kitchen was a mess and Y/n’s nice purse was on the entryway table. Even though he wasn’t allowed to bring his “girlfriend” to their home he’d have to deal with the consequences of that with Romy. But she couldn’t know it was Y/n because that would be a whole other can of worms he didn’t want to open.

“Up. We need to get you to the guest room. I can’t have Romy seeing you.”

Y/n quickly hopped off the bed and pulled her dress from the floor to cover her naked body as Harry led her to the hallway and pointed to the door at the end, “There. Go inside and close the door.”

He pulled his pants up his legs just as Romy was walking into the bedroom, “Who’s here?”

She looked around the room and saw the panties on the floor next to his boxers and the way the bed was mussed from what they’d just been doing. It was clear what was going on.

“It’s the woman. From the service,” he lied with a shrug, “I thought you were gonna be out. I didn’t mean for you to–“

“You cooked her dinner? And brought her to our bedroom, Harry? Where is she?”

“I had her go into the other room. I don’t think you should have any contact with her. That’s part of what we agreed.”

“Your dick is even still hard, Jesus. Were you two just…” She shook her head and paced into the room, “And yeah, that was the agreement but you’ve brought her into our home and that was something we said you wouldn’t do. She could walk off with something expensive for all you know!”

“She won’t. I’m sorry. It was just… She made a house call. It was easier this way.”

“I bet it was. Couldn’t even be bothered to clean up the kitchen.”

“I was going to get to it after. Why are you home anyway?” “I missed the train. The next one’s coming in an hour so I figured I’d come home and grab a few things I meant to bring for the trip but realized I forgot. So I’ll be home for a bit. You gonna have her leave?” Romy raised a brow at Harry.

He was a little surprised she wasn’t angrier. He couldn’t understand why she was so calm. Yes, she seemed upset but not as upset as he thought she’d be.

“No… we weren’t done.” Harry clenched his jaw. It felt strange talking to his wife about this. He kept his eyes on her as she looked down at his erection covered by his pants. He cleared his throat and continued, “Plus I don’t want her feeling embarrassed and leaving right in front of you. I’ll wait til you're gone before I send her home.”

Romy nodded and looked behind her at the door to their bedroom. “Is she in there? The guest room?”

“Yes. Will you be upset if I go in there with her while you’re here?”

She scoffed and shook her head as she walked past Harry toward their closet, “Clearly didn’t get yourself off yet. Typical that’s all you can think about in this very moment. I mean what can I say, Harry? It’s not like you listen to me anyway. You and your need to dominate every situation. Go and do whatever. You will anyway.”

And that was true. Harry wasn’t one to take no for an answer for most things.

Shrugging his shoulders he started for the door but before he passed into the hallway he turned, not wanting Romy to have the last word, “Might want to go downstairs if you’re not interested in hearing us,” he smirked and then left the room. But before he got far he heard her respond, “Oh great. Love to listen in on mediocre sex and a woman faking an orgasm for money.”

Harry swallowed as she paused. That had pissed him off. Why did she feel the need to insult whomever he was fucking? He decided to leave it and not respond, continuing down the hall and walking into the large guest room where his lover was waiting, locking the door behind him.

She’d already slid her dress back on. She was sitting at the edge of the bed with a worried look on her face.

“Hey,” he sat down next to her and pulled her into his chest, “It’s okay. She’s not gonna bother us. She’ll be gone soon. I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s not your fault. Just scared me. I’m worried if she knows it’s me she’ll do something awful. I just don’t want any trouble.”

“You won’t have any trouble, baby. I’ll make sure of that.”

Harry began to pull at her dress, indicating he wanted it off. Y/n pulled back to look up at him, “What are you doing? Right now? With her here?”

Harry was unphased. Which wasn’t a surprise but Y/n thought for sure he’d wait until his wife left.

“She’s going to be here for another thirty minutes or so and I need you, bout to burst. Will it make you feel better if we’re quiet? Or would you rather wait?” His hands were bunching the material of her dress until her thighs were exposed. The way his warm palm and rings felt on her soft skin, slowly moving upward toward where she was still wet had her heart pounding.

“I… I don’t know. I want you to feel good but I don’t want any trouble.” She was torn. One part of her didn’t want to wait. She’d been on edge and he was so good inside of her, driving into her with the yummiest drag before they were interrupted. And she’d wet her dress with how much slick arousal she had stuck between her thighs, she was still reeling from his cock being inside of her not moments prior. But she didn’t want to do something that would hurt anyone’s feelings either.

“I told you there won’t be trouble. Do you trust me, Y/n?” Harry brought his large palm up to her neck and made her look up at him, his other hand gently slipping fingers through her labia.

“I trust you. Yes,” her puffy lips were parted as she kept her eyes on Harry’s. She loved how it felt when he had a hand around her neck but he was gentle in that moment. Using the gesture as a small reminder of his dominance over her. His ownership.

“Good girl,” he brought his lips down over hers as he pushed two fingers slowly inside of her aching cunt. “You’re my good girl aren’t you, Y/n?” Harry spoke against her lips as he began to fuck his long digits into her slowly.

She nodded, “Yes. I wanna be good for you.”

“I know you do,” he whispered as he continued kissing her between his words, “Let me take care of you. Be my good girl and pretend it’s just me and you. The only girl I care about right now is you.”

That’s what she wanted. To be a good girl for him. And if this is what made her a good girl, she’d forget Romy was in the house. To have his attention on her and not on Romy.

His lips were soft and his tongue pressed into hers as he released her neck and began to pull the dress down her arms until the top part was pooling at her waist and her tits were exposed.

Pushing her to lie down on her back, he kept his fingers inside of her as he dropped his mouth to a nipple causing her to gasp.

Harry grinned. He hoped she wouldn’t stay quiet. He wanted her little noises and hoped it irritated Romy. Hoped Romy could hear everything he was doing to Y/n. Things that he would never again to do his own wife. Was he bitter? Yes, perhaps. But he felt it was warranted. He didn’t like her insulting his sweet girl.

Harry looked down at Y/n with her silk dress bunched at her waist, her pussy and tits out as he fingered her and kneaded her tits.

When he felt he’d gotten her all worked up again, small moans and needy little glances, nearly begging him for more, he pulled his fingers from her and hastily removed his pants. He pushed her further into the bed and spread her legs apart, making her bend at the knees as he shifted between her legs.

“Please,” she whispered as she looked down at his hard cock in his hand.

“This is what you want? Yeah?” He positioned his thick crown to her entrance as she nodded.

“Needed Daddy’s cock so bad today, didn’t you, baby?” Harry spoke his words in stammered breaths as he began to push back into her where he belonged. The stress began to melt away the deeper he drove his cock.

Earlier in the day, when Romy had gone to the office, Harry didn’t even know she’d be there. He spotted her walking out of Sean’s office as he happened to be standing in the hallway talking to Jessica and spotted her.

He asked her what she was doing there, mostly just surprised to see her and her response was immediately defensive so he brought her to his office so they could discuss in private. She seemed angry with him and then told him she stopped by to remind him she was going out of town that evening with her sister. Something for which he did not need an in-person reminder.

He found the whole thing odd but most of all, her attitude had him heated. Their small spat in the office was overheard and he was stressed when she did finally leave. But he did have one bright spot through it all. His Y/n.

And having her underneath him as he strained his muscles and steadied himself above her while he gently fucked into her was exactly what he needed. It was just what she needed too.

Harry watched her pretty face contort and lips part and widen with each of his thrusts, “Fuck, baby. Who do you belong to?”

Her voice bubbled out softly, each word panted into the air, “Daddy… I’m yours, Daddy…” She wanted to hold onto him. Scratch her nails down his back and claim him for her own the way he always claimed her. She would never do it unless he told her but her fingertips dragged over the blanket imagining his skin under her nails.

Harry moaned and felt saliva pool on his tongue. His mouth was watering with how luscious she felt and the remnants of her arousal still in his mouth. He brought one hand to her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, “Open up wide sweet girl.”

Her mouth was already parted as she unhinged her jaw for him and jutted her pink tongue out for him.

Harry gathered his spit at the end of his tongue and opened his mouth, keeping his hips pasted to hers as he continued deeply thrusting into her. The wet drool from his tongue drizzled down into her mouth and over her tongue, slipping downward to her throat.

She closed her eyes and moaned loudly at the way it felt. She was his. He owned her. She would drink his come and his saliva happily forever if he wanted. Would crawl on her knees to him and let him spit into all her holes with a smile.

Harry watched as she kept her tongue out. Her eyes were squeezed closed and she began to quiver under him, “You’re mine, baby. My sweet girl. So dirty and so fucking hot. Swallow my spit into your tummy now. Show me you want to be mine.”

Her lips closed around the spit and she swallowed and licked her lips before opening her eyes up to see him looking down at her in awe. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. His cock inside of her, pushing deeper than he ever had, and the act of swallowing his saliva sealed it all for her. He wanted her for his own.

“I’m yours. I need to be yours forever. Are you mine too, Daddy?” She didn’t expect those words to come out but her heart and the hot, prickling lust in her belly had her speaking before she could even think.

Harry groaned and lowered his lips to hers. It was the most erotic and soft sex he’d had with Y/n yet. It made him feel like… he was in love. Made him realize, even more than he had before, that he wanted Y/n forever. Not just for a mistress and a fuck toy. But a human woman that he connected with on all levels and who matched his needs and desires in bed.

Disconnecting their wet lips he gasped at the way she clenched around him and pushed his nose to hers, “Fuck, my love. I’m yours. I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

Harry was trying to keep it down for Y/n’s sake. He knew she didn’t want Romy to hear what was happening in the bedroom. He would have preferred to have Romy hear it all. So she knew where she stood in comparison with his lover. Y/n was his girl. And he was sure he was falling in love with her.

“P…please can I touch your back? I want to feel you under my fingers…” she dared to ask because she couldn’t hold it back. She needed his skin under her hands and nails.

Harry grasped one of her hands and brought it up to his shoulder, “Fucking touch me all over baby. Go on…”

She felt his skin under her palm and brought her other hand up to feel his back. His broadness and the straining muscles in his back had her moaning loudly on accident but the moment she took the chance to dig her nails lightly into his skin and she heard him choke out a loud groan she knew that was permission for more. To leave traces of herself on his skin. A mark to show Romy who he really belonged.

And that thought had her rearranging her entire notion of having his wife overhear them. Now she wanted Romy to know. She felt possessive of him at that moment, her nails digging in harder and his groans growing louder with each inch she dragged her nails over his flesh.

“Just like that, Y/n, baby… Harder…” he was breathy and his words were tight. Harry couldn’t believe how it felt to have her nails on his skin. He hoped he bled and had deep marks left for days.

Suddenly a door slammed and Harry paused as he looked down at Y/n with a smirk, “Want you to scream my name when you come. Want her to hear the voice of one I belong to. Is that okay?” He rutted into her deeply and she moaned with a nod.

“Yes. I want her to hear now. And then she’ll see my marks on you. Because you’re mine, Daddy.”

Harry pressed his lips to hers and sucked in a breath through his nose to show his devotion and appreciation. The kiss was slow and wet as Harry kept himself stuffed into her, not moving an inch. He needed the moment to give his cock a break from the decadent feel of her pussy around him.

When he’d recovered enough that he knew he wouldn’t come immediately, he pushed himself up and looked into her eyes, “Shred my back up, Y/n. Want it to scar. Give it to me.”

She did as he said as he pulled out to his tip and slammed back into her, making the headboard pound into the wall loudly. With the feel of her nails digging into his skin, he repeated his motions, fucking into her hard but slow. Pulling out his heavy cock to his tip and driving into her with a thud.

Harry hissed at one particularly deep scratch and he sat up, feeling like that was sufficient, ready to hammer into her and make Y/n shout and yelp and come all while Romy listened.

“You ready, angel? Gonna fuck you so hard you see stars and squirt all over this bed.”

She dared to lift her fingers to his chest and scrape lightly as she nodded, “I need it so bad. I need you.”

Harry grinned and closed his eyes for a moment to feel her. To feel the emotions and the moment. Her fingers on his chest. But then he began to slip his cock back, pulling out completely. Looking down between them he placed his thumb on her clit and suddenly pummeled into her, repeated, punishing thrusts.

At first the voice was punched out of her throat with the way his hips hammered into hers. The sound in the room of his cock pushing into her pussy, his skin thudding into hers and the bed creaking wildly, the headboard smashing into the wall in time with his thrusts was the only noise.

Finally, she found her voice when they got into a rhythm, “Daddy! Yess!!” His thumb stroking her puffy clit sent her spiraling quickly. Her hips jolted and her back arched.

Harry watched her tits jiggle and her mouth and tongue move as curses and shouts of his name fell from her lungs. Her pretty voice and coos nearly had him tearing up but his cock was in heaven pounding into her pussy.

“Right there, baby? Yeah?” He gasped his words as she nodded. Her hands grasped the blankets tight as her body was being knocked upward with his devastating plunges.

“So good! Fuck! I want your come, Daddy! All inside of me. Fff….” Her neck strained as she tossed her head back. His thumb at her clit was sending her dangerously to the edge. And with the way his cock was punching into her she was going to squirt and she knew it. Only Harry could manipulate her body in this way.

“Oh shit… Fuck, baby…” Harry choked out his words as he saw her first gush and pulled his cock out so she could unleash.

Her body vibrated and she shouted loudly as she leaked and squirted. Tiny bits of spray coated his cock and his pubic hair and the bed below.

“Make it messy, baby. That’s right,” Harry continued flicking her clit as she trembled and loudly moaned unintelligible words of nonsense.

When she’d finally calmed Harry slammed back into her. He still needed to make her come. Squirting felt intense and yummy but coming was yummier, he knew.

“Squirted all over me baby. Claiming me with your scratches and your pretty pussy spraying me, huh? Gonna show my wife who I belong to?” His hips against hers were biting and he was so deep she felt him push into something new. A snap was felt inside of her and the intensity of the deepness of his cock had her spinning.

Harry was barely pulling out, only fucking into her now, holding her body to his as he rocked his hips into hers so deep.

“Yes! Only mine!” Was all she could manage to squeak out.

Even with Harry holding her close, the room was noisy with sex and the bed was unrelenting under them. And once Y/n had squirted and made a mess, the sloppy, gushy noises were even more evident. Everything was wet and slick and loud.

Harry was so close to coming. His balls tightened and Y/n’s eyes widened when her own orgasm began to finally unravel. Harry’s pelvis pushed into her clit with the constant motion of his hips rolling into hers.

“Open up again,” he could barely get his words out, “and ruin my back, baby.”

She opened her mouth and immediately ran her nails over his back. The pain of her scratching the spots she already had made Harry cough out a loud moan of praise, “Fucking good girl!”

He looked back down to her eyes with the sting on his bag and the saliva dripping down into her mouth slowly.

It was perfection. The moment was bliss and euphoria as he breathed out his words, “Swallow and come.”

She had already begun to come the moment his saliva hit her tongue and her fingers dug into his skin. It felt like they were joined as one. She swallowed his saliva before moaning, “Harry! Oh my god!! I need you, Daddy!” Her words were a garbled shout, surely to be heard throughout the house.

Harry rattled off his devotion and praise to his girl as he drained his come into her, “My good fucking baby. I need you so much. Fuck! Making me come so hard. Gonna take my come like a good little girl…”

The slowing of their movements had the room going quiet until only their breaths and panting were heard. Harry dipped in to kiss Y/n slowly and softly. With meaning and heart.

She was still pulsing and he was still throbbing as they licked and kissed. One last deep thrust upward had her squealing and laughing as Harry pushed himself up to look down at his girl with delight.

A knock to the door interrupted the sweet moment. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed as he brought his hands up to cup Y/n’s face lovingly, thumbs stroking her soft skin, “What?” He shouted toward the door.

“Fucking asshole is what,” the knob rattled as if she were trying to open the door and Harry lifted up further to face the door. He had locked it but he wouldn’t put it past Romy to try and get in to make some kind of point.

“Get the fuck out of her. I don’t want you near here.” Harry barked toward the door, ready to pull the blankets up over his lover to protect her if needed.

“This is MY house, Harry! You have whore in MY house! I want her out!”

Harry scoffed and shook his head as he looked down at Y/n. His cock was still inside of her. This was his baby. His love. He smiled at her softly, reassuringly before turning toward the door again to respond to Romy, “Were you listening like a pathetic bitch? That’s what good sex sounds like. I’m not fucking sending her away because you’re jealous. Leave already!”

“Loser asshole!” Romy stomped off and down the stairs. They could both hear her leaving the house.

Harry let out a breath and grinned down at Y/n. She was already smiling up at him with a pleased look on her face. She wasn’t upset like he thought she might be.

“You okay, baby?”

“So good, Daddy. She knows your mine now.”

Harry nodded and laughed, rubbing the tip of his nose to hers, “I’m so yours baby. All yours.”

When he finally pulled himself out of her he tilted her hips upward and thumbed her entrance to watch his come drip slowly before planting his mouth over her cunt and slurping his come into his mouth.

Leaning over her body and hovering his face over hers she opened her mouth obediently and he drooled his come into her mouth.

He watched her tongue capture his seed and he smiled, “In your tummy and in your pussy. All mine. Swallow.”

She gulped him down and grinned, “All yours, Daddy.”

Harry’s grin only widened as he spoke, “Yeah? You’re all mine. And you fucking own me.”

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Legacy II

Magdalena Eriksson x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Chelsea's reaction to you

Magda finally strays from your side after six weeks.

She would have stayed for longer but she knew that if she did, she would never go back to England. So, it's with a heavy heart that she gets the last of her baby cuddles and boards the flight back to London.

She mopes all through the weekend though, draining her phone battery from the frequent calls to Pernille to see you. When Monday rolls around, Magda is still in a little bit of a slump as she makes her way to training.

She gets there early like usual and sits in her cubby, scrolling through her gallery and biting at her cheek to stifle her tears. She misses you and Pernille like crazy.

"Holy shit, is that the baby?!"

Millie barges her way to Magda's cubby, sliding to sit next to her and practically wrenching the phone out of her hands.

"She's so cute!"

That makes Magda swell with pride as she points out the little things in the photo about you.

"She's got very strong reflexes," Magda boasts," So she's going to be very smart! And-And she kicks a lot so she's going to be a footballer too!"

Magda flicks to another picture and waits an appropriate amount of time for Millie to coo over you.

"And she always forgets she has feet! It's so cute! She gets so surprised."

The locker room slowly fills up and everyone makes a little stop by Magda to look at pictures of you.

"I can't believe Nilla got to see her first," Jonna complains as she watches a video of you staring up at your baby mobile," That's so unfair."

"She helped get Pernille to the hospital," Magda reminds her though her eyes don't stray from your image on her phone," I think she more than earned it."

"And Frido too? Did she really get on the first flight?"

"She did," Magda confirms," She didn't even tell us until she was outside our door. The princesse loves her though."

"Yeah, well, Fridos tend to stick together." Jonna flicked to another picture.

It was very sweet but it just made Magda miss you and Pernille even more. You're bundled up in your baby blanket, eyes closed softly. Pernille's shirtless and your little hand is gripping her collarbone possessively. Pernille's smiling down softly at you, one hand reaching up to rest on your head while the other is curled around your body to keep you stable and safe against her.

"Motherhood looks good on you," Beth says with a laugh as Magda yawns while flicking through images - she's easily got more than a hundred of just you.

"I'm exhausted," Magda replies but she keeps the smile on her face," But it's so worth it. She makes these cute little noises in her sleep and I swear she can understand me already."

Beth laughs, clapping her on the back. "Is it hard? Being away from her?"

Magda's face falls a little as she looks at your picture. "Yeah," She admits," She...She's just so little and it's just Pernille with her now. I just want her with me all the time. I've already booked a flight for next week to go and see them, straight after the game."

"You're a great mum already, Magda," Beth says," That little girl is so lucky."

The compliment makes Magda flush a little and she stares down at her home screen - a picture of you sitting on her lap. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the squeaky thing behind that camera that Pernille's using to make you look in the right direction. Magda's sitting behind you, a massive smile on her face as you lean comfortably against her.

"She's perfect," Is what she says in reply," She makes it easy to be a good mum."

Beth laughs. "God, motherhood's made you sappy. Come on, we've still got training to do."

Training is the perfect way to get her mind off of the thought of you and Pernille. Training is easy, it's repetitive and it keeps Magda from even straying into the idea of missing you as much as she does.

"Magda," Emma says as she walks past the coaching office to get to the changing rooms.

"Er...yeah?"

"Come in."

The whole exchange makes Magda feel antsy. She runs through everything that's happened in training and wonders if perhaps she has done something wrong.

She can't think of anything so feels on edge as she sits in front of Emma's desk.

"Well?" Emma says and Magda's throat bobs.

"What?"

"Do I get to see baby pictures too or are they just reserved for players?"

Magda lets out a small laugh, half of relief and half of amusement.

"You want to see them?"

Emma raises a brow. "Well, I'd like to see the future Chelsea star you and Pernille made."

Magda fishes her phone out of her pocket and opens it to her gallery. "Funny. Pernille swears she'll play for Wolfsburg."

"This little girl will play for me come hell or high water, Magda," Emma says," I'll make sure of it."

[bellysoupset]

Wendy and Vince - Purposefully overeating part 2. NSFW

Hi, hello. This is kink. This is fetish writing. No one look at me for one thousand years. 😳

Read part 1 here

-----------------------------------

“Can I sleep with you?”

Wendy let out a sigh, crouching down in front of Livia and brushing the girl’s hair back, “how about you sleep over tomorrow night? Then Monday I can take you to class with Vin?” 

The little girl’s pout cleared up as she nodded eagerly, “can you braid my hair?”

“Yes, I can braid your hair,” Wendy grinned, planting a kiss on Liv’s brow, “now up to bed, c’mon. I’ll help you brush your teeth.” 

“You’re getting exploited, Wendy,” Giuseppe warned her from the couch, as Wendy guided the little girl up the stairs, holding her hand, “keep giving her an inch and she’ll take the whole mile.”

“I don’t mind,” Wendy shrugged and she really meant it. She had never been the type to like children, but she didn’t actively dislike them either. However, Vince adored Livia so much that Wendy couldn’t help but have it rub off on her. It helped that Liv was very much like her brother, all touchy and sweet, it was like looking at a little girl version of him.

“Vincenzo, help me with the tupperwares, will you?” Wendy heard as Ma called from the kitchen and Vince got up with a small sigh from the dining table. He had already polished off two servings of dinner — veal chops with fava beans and radishes — and had been previously munching on cookies while helping with the dishes, before his mother banished everyone from the kitchen as she sorted through the leftovers. 

Livia was sleepy already, so it wasn’t hard to put her to bed, watching her brush her teeth and change into PJs, before crawling under the blankets with her stuffed animals. Most of them were purple and Wendy snorted as she wondered how did the child not suffocate with that many plushies surrounding her.

“Goodnight, Wendy,” Liv whispered, curling up and pressing her face to the belly of her stuffed bear.

“Goodnight, sugar,” Wendy leaned in, kissing the top of her head and then making sure Liv’s night light was on, casting stars on the wall it was plugged to, and walking out of the bedroom. Vince was just outside, in the hallway, and she jumped, “how long you’ve been there?”

“Just got here,” Vince shrugged, as Wendy pulled the door half closed, “just wanted to kiss Liv goodnight, then we can leave.”

“Are you still-”

He rolled his eyes, circling her and whispering in her ear, “yeah, I’m still sure.” 

Wendy’s face burned and she fought the urge to squirm, leaning against the hallway wall as Vince disappeared inside the bedroom to kiss his baby sister goodnight. 

She walked back downstairs, instead of waiting for him, and paused in the staircase, watching Giuseppe and Magda cuddled up on the couch, chatting over some soap opera, while Sophia was sprawled on the opposite couch with her face buried in her phone. It was such a domestic, mundane scene and yet Wendy couldn’t remember ever seeing her parents do that. 

“Let’s go?” Vince wrapped his arms around her from behind and Wendy nodded, leaning her back against his stomach. She could just feel his belly pressing on her back and it was comfortable more than anything. 

“Wendy, the basket on the left is for you,” Ma called as they entered the living room, Vince passing Wen her purse and going to retrieve all the leftovers his mom so happily separated for him. 

“That’s too much, Ma-”

“Nonsense,” the woman scoffed, “you live alone, you’re a doctor, you don’t have time to cook and I don’t want you eating garbage. I put in some jars of my sauce and the premade pasta, there’s torrones- Oh! And the big metal jar is for Leo and Jonah, tell them congratulations for the engagement. It’s chocolate coated cookies- Leo likes chocolate, right?”

“He loves it,” Vince said truthfully, while Wendy eyed the huge amount of food with a guilty conscience. Ever since her and Vin had gotten back together and gotten in the routine of long distance, she had been barely feeding herself. 

“It’s still too much-”

A string of annoyed italian words interrupted her, Ma getting up from the couch and angrily grabbing the basket, shoving it in Wendy’s hands, “don’t be rude,” the woman berated her, “buona notte, bambina. Buona notte, mio cucciolo.” 

Wendy hugged the woman with one arm, the other one busy holding all the things she had been given, “buona notte, ma,” she felt very proud of mimicking the accent. 

Vince answered his parents in Italian, exchanging some rapid fire words with Sophia, who didn’t even bother looking up from her phone and then they were out of the house.

“You have got to stop fighting her,” Vince berated lightly, as they entered the car, “the more you say you don’t want food, the more she thinks you’re embarrassed and she needs to feed you.”

“I need to start paying your mom somehow,” Wendy scoffed, putting the seatbelt on, “she’s spending a fortune.”

“She can quit whenever she wants,” Vince shrugged. He started the car and then planted a hand on his stomach, rubbing it lightly. All thoughts about his mother flew out of Wendy’s mind and she stared at his hand.

“So what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza,” Vince drove out of his street, “I’m thinking vegetarian?” 

“Uhum,” Wendy licked her lips, then reached in and touched her boyfriend’s stomach. A jolt went up her hand as she felt how full his belly already was, rounding out nicely under his sweater, “you ate a lot already.”

“Please,” Vince snorted, “that was nothing.”

It was still early, barely past nine, and most restaurants were open and with people coming and going. They parked across a small cantina, near Vince’s place, and sat in the far back, in the most reclusive spot. 

If Vince was honest, he was already feeling quite full. Ever since deciding they’d do this, five hours ago, he had been eating non stop. Two sandwiches, two servings of dinner and who knows how many cookies and juice were packed in his gut, so he was far from hungry… But nowhere near queasy, which was their end result.

Vin leaned back after they ordered, half listening as Wendy rambled on nervously — she was always chatty, but when feeling awkward it seemed to go up a notch —, too preoccupied taking all of her in. 

He missed her so much, it wasn’t even funny. Wendy continued to talk as he reached in, pushing a wavy strand of hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger, tracing the soft curve of her jaw. She had baby cheeks and he loved them, freckles dusting the bridge of her button nose, lips that curved up on a perfect, pouty shape, no cupid’s bow. 

Tonight she was wearing glittery eyeshadow and dark mascara, speckles of pink glitter clinging to her lids and the inner corner of her eyes, making her green eyes sparkle. 

“-I don’t know, I just think if the concussion rate is so high, why aren’t they doing anyt-” Wendy interrupted herself, “are you listening to me?” 

“I am,” Vince nodded, but instead of repeating what she was saying, he tugged on the belt loop of his girlfriend’s jeans and pulled her closer to him in their little booth, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “I was just looking at you.”

“Staring,” she corrected, but melted against him, sliding a hand around his middle in an inconspicuous manner. It made his tummy fill with butterflies. Vince pulled her even closer, pressing a kiss to her temple as Wendy hugged him by the middle. 

They had ordered a large veggie pizza with a side of pesto sauce and Vin immediately went at it, while Wendy slid from under his arm, aimlessly biting on the crust of his pizza. 

“You’re not gonna help?” Vince whined, after he cleared up his first slice entirely and opened the sparkling water bottle. Wendy wrinkled her nose. 

“I’m not hungry anymore,” she reached in, wrapping a curl of his around her index finger, then letting her nail trace his prickly cheek, “you’re gonna finish the whole pizza?”

“Not sure,” Vince tore the second slide apart, fidgeting a little on his seat. He was already starting to feel his pants dig on him, “gonna try.”

Halfway through Vince was forced to pull back, breathing strongly through his nose and planting a hand on his stomach, grateful that they had picked such a reclusive corner and that their table disguised his movement. He was packed full, it was hard to breathe, and Vince let out a groan. 

Wendy leaned in, her whole face flushed. For the longest minutes she had been trying and sort of failing to strike up conversation, blushing and squirming whenever he let out any noise indicating how full he was or had to pause before taking another bite. 

“Vin?”

“Just- Just a sec…” he cupped his mouth, trying to force up a belch, but nothing came up. His belly throbbed with the sheer volume of what was inside of it and Vince groaned, throwing his head back, “fuck.”

“Vince,” now her voice wasn’t just breathless and excited, but there was concern tinging it, “honey, let’s stop-”

“Wendy,” he leveled her with a glare and his girlfriend snapped her mouth shut. Vince gulped down the tight knot in his throat and forced another breath, “just give me a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” she moved even closer in the booth, pushing his hair back, unable to keep her hands to herself, “deep breaths.”

“I’m not even nauseous,” he said quietly, blushing and looking around. It was getting rather late and no one was paying them any mind. Across the restaurant, leaning on the bar, the waiters were talking, just occasionally sparing them a glance. There were two other couples, far from them, enthralled with each other. “Just full.”

“Do you wanna get the rest of this to go?” Wendy leaned in, whispering in his ear, “and maybe dessert too?”

The thought of eating dessert on top of all that food made a twinge of nausea blossom inside his gut. Vince thought about it, then nodded, turning his head to capture her lips into a kiss. 

Wendy let out a little happy noise, cupping his cheeks and then pulling back just enough to breathe. 

She didn’t say anything else and Vince didn’t need her to. With the help of their seat, he pushed himself up and then groaned out loud as the movement made his insides start to churn. Wendy got up as well, squeezing his arm in a sympathetic manner.

“Go sit in the car, I got the bill,” she tiptoed to kiss his cheek and Vince lowered himself slightly to allow her. He stared at his shoes, trying to muster up the energy to walk to the car when it felt like there was a huge brick sitting in his middle.

“Did you see who was inside?” Wendy asked, carrying a white to-go box as she walked out of the restaurant; There was an excited thrill in her voice, green eyes alight with mischief.

Vince was leaning against the hood, near the headlights, staring at his feet and grimacing as he felt the bellyache build. The little nausea twinge was still there, making him reconsider the idea of eating another bite.

“Uhm?”

“Your new bestie,” his girlfriend teased, putting the food in the dashboard and then circling the car, slotting herself between his arms, “Daniels.”

“What- Wendy,” Vince waved the subject away, he didn’t care if Daniels had been inside the restaurant or not, he cared that he was feeling increasingly pukey and he didn’t want to barf outside of his place. That would ruin the whole night, “honey, let’s go home.”

“Yeah?” Wendy pressed him back against the car, on her very tippy toes to keep kissing him, clutching the front of his shirt, “you ate too much?”

“Fuck yeah, I ate too much,” Vince sighed, “you don’t want me to puke on you, let’s go home.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she teased him, causing Vince to let out a surprised, startled chuckle and clutch at his stomach. 

“Oh my god, Wendy, get inside the car, you perv!” he exclaimed, still chuckling, a cramp gripping the insides of his stomach. He tried to swallow air and force up a burp, but the bubble he could immediately feel forming in his belly came up and then fizzled out in his throat. 

“Okay, okay,” Wendy pecked his lips, “just hold on a little bit more, Vin…” 

There was no way he could drive, nor did she want him to. Wendy was focusing on the drive, but her cheeks were a delicious strawberry shade and one of her hands was off the steering wheel, resting on his thigh… Tracing little invisible patterns there, up and down and then a circle…

“Hurts right here,” Vince bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, as he took his girlfriend’s dainty hand and pressed it to his stuffed belly, "it's so heavy, Wen…” 

She let out a forceful breath through her nose, squeezing the steering wheel, “you’re terrible…” there was a whine to her voice and Vince felt a smidge of pride bubble in his chest. The fact he knew she was so turned on by him, every little part of him. 

Vince squirmed, planting his hand over hers and pushing it in, leaning in and almost pressing his forehead to the dashboard. The added pressure caused his overpacked stomach to gurgle angrily and next to him Wendy let out a noise in the back of her throat, her fingers curling against his shirt. 

“Don’t… Don’t puke yet,” she bossed, voice all breathy and Vince shook his head, sitting up straight. 

“Not gonna,” he thumped on his chest, forcing up a tiny little burp that brought no relief, “not there yet.” 

“Good,” she pulled her hand back, clearing her throat and rolling down the window, as if the car was too stuffy. Vince appreciated it, even if it wasn’t done for his benefit. The light breeze helped some.

His tiny house was really just a large living room with a bathroom, that he had slotted in separate rooms, creating his tiny bedroom, kitchen, living room. He didn’t fit lying back on the couch, but that didn’t stop Wendy from promptly pushing him against it as soon as they got inside. 

“Easy,” Vince glared at her, sitting down and spreading his legs, throwing his head back, “c’mere, honey.” 

She took his hand in hers, but instead of sitting on his lap, as Vince was pulling her to, Wendy sank down to her knees between his legs and reached for his jeans. The buttons were pressing against his belly and Vin let out a moan as she undid his fly, tugging on the pants to give his stomach more space. 

“Better?” 

“Uh-hu,” he cupped her face, thumb on her chin, forcing their eyes to meet and making an amused face, “sorta counter intuitive with your goal, though.” 

“I’m not in a rush,” Wendy shrugged, although the rasp in her voice said the opposite. She leaned in, kissing the little sliver of exposed stomach, then grabbing his shirt and rolling it up, lips pressing against his full belly as she continued kissing up. 

Vince stripped down the shirt, throwing it to the left and letting out a groan as Wendy moved up, body draping over him and capturing his lips with hers. It felt like her hands were everywhere. Pressing against his unsettled tummy, index finger circling lazily against his belly button, roaming up his chest, curling in his hair-

He turned his face and muffled a thick, relieving burp against her neck and Wendy moaned in his ear, haphazardly grabbing his face and kissing him with renewed fervor. Vince pulled back after a second, pressing his forehead to hers and taking a measured breath. The bigger belch had cleared up some space, so he whispered, “didn’t you say something about dessert?”

Wendy pulled back, stunned and then glared down at his packed belly. It was rounding out, still gurgling and snarling, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” Vince’s voice was decisive. There was a manic glint to her eyes that made him feel warm all over, he wanted to see how much more he could push. If he could make her cum without even touching her. Probably, judging by the way Wendy’s chest was heaving as if she was the one struggling to breathe. 

She got up to retrieve the to-go box from the small table that marked his “kitchen”, then walked back to the couch, crawling on it and sitting on his lap with a happy sigh, “I got you blueberry pie,” she opened the cardstock box, “I figured you didn’t like it too much…?”

“I don’t,” Vince frowned, “so why…?”

“I don’t want to ruin a dessert you actually like,” Wendy shrugged, tearing the lid of the box off without a thought and throwing it on the ground. There was a plastic fork and she dug into it with glee, squirming on his lap to get more comfortable. Vince opened a smile as he could feel just how turned on she was, a hard on pressing against his thigh. 

He leaned back and obediently opened his mouth, resting his hands on her ass. 

It wasn’t his favorite, but it was still really good. Even full as he was, Vince’s mouth still watered at the sweet taste and he happily ate the two first bites. It was the third bite that turned sour.Wendy had gotten him two slices, about 5 bites each, and Vince eyed it wearily as he struggled to swallow. 

Her eyes were trained to his face and she pulled back, raised the fork and an eyebrow, “Vin?”

He forced the bite down, then grimaced, smacking his sticky lips together and clearing his throat, “not feeling so hot, honey.”

She bit down her lip, looking conflicted, cheeks aflame, “do you want me to-”

“Gimme another bite,” Vince opened his mouth, squeezing her thighs and Wendy didn’t need to be told twice. 

The smell, fruity and sickening sweet, made him want to gag, but he took the fourth bite and then the fifth, finishing the first slice. Immediately he brought up a hand to his mouth and let out a little sickly burp, followed by another… A bigger belch, thick and tasting disgustingly of his dinner and Vince heaved, but didn’t bring up anything. 

He whined, leaning forward and his forehead met her collarbone, since Wendy was taller sitting on his lap.

“Shhh,” she whispered in his ear, a hand rubbing up and down his back, “I got you…”

It wasn’t enough. A horrible threshold between feeling like absolute garbage, but so horny and unable to act on either. Vince moaned, swallowing air and forcing up a little burp, squeezing her close, “my stomach… Fuck, Wen, it’s all churning and…” his mouth watered, not with hunger, but revulsion and Wendy squeezed her legs around him. 

“It’s not sitting well…?” This was dirty talk and Vince knew it. Thinking of everything that was packed inside of him only made him feel worse – the sandwiches, veal chops, the pizza, pie –, and yet he leaned into it, voice thick and words sticking together. 

“No… No, I think the pie- I think it wants up,” he gagged and a thin dribble of saliva rushed up, bringing with it the crumbs– Vince wasn’t playing it up as he retched suddenly, grabbing Wendy’s shoulder and pulling her back to avoid puking on her. A thin, watery dribble of sweet smelling vomit fell on their laps and Vince’s back arched with another violent heave, but nothing else came up. 

He forced up a burp and Wendy cupped his face, “oh honey,” she sounded more than breathless, almost dizzy. In his badly lit living room he could see the green of her eyes was almost gone, pupils blown, “darling…” fingers caressing his cheek, so gentle and then saying, “do you want more?”

“Fu-Uck!” The thought of eating even another bite had his stomach squeezing and Vince retched, bringing a much thicker wave of vomit. It splashed on his undone jeans and Wendy’s baby blue ones, a terrible shade of brown mixed with streaks of blue, splatters hitting his naked stomach and pure disgust washed over him, causing him to heave again.

Wendy let out a little noise, squeezing his nape, nails sinking on him and Vince gasped for air, closing his eyes and trying to quell the nausea. This was enough, he was done- A rumbly burp came from the pits of his stomach and he gagged, bringing up a thin dribble of puke and breathing heavily. 

“Wen-”

“I’m here, I’m here-” she pressed her lips to his temple, “deep breaths, baby, it’s over. Let your tummy settle-”

“No, Wen-” he squeezed her arm, squirming on the couch as hot nausea continued to churn in his belly, “Wen-” her name up in a retch and he thought of the sheer amount of food, flashes of everything he had consumed appearing in front of his eyes. It was like he could taste every bite all over again.

Vince pushed Wendy off his lap slightly, spreading his legs and grabbing his bloated stomach, shame be damned, no longer giving a crap about the mess- Wendy’s hand found it’s way to his tummy as well, pressing in. Gentle, but steady, deeper- 

The next heave was productive and Vince made a horrible choking noise and a large wave of vomit covered his jeans and splashed between his boots. He gasped for air, goosebumps running up and down his arms, head twirling with the lack of oxygen. 

Wendy was rubbing his back, her mouth pressed to his naked shoulder, no longer bothering to say anything- He wiped his mouth and the tears clinging to his lashes and then groaned, falling back against the couch’s back. 

“Vin?” Her hand on his naked chest, massaging it in circles. Sweet, voice concerned, “honey?”

He turned his head lazily and then let out a drained smile, noticing the wet spot on her jeans that was not caused by him, “fuck me, Wendy, without even touching you?” Vince said proudly, his voice hoarse and his head swimming with the remaining queasiness, but there was a burning deep in his belly. Down in his groin, so pleased with himself.

Wendy’s cheeks turned red and she looked away, but Vince darted out a little uncoordinated hand and grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her in. He smashed their lips together and his girlfriend let out a small noise, startled, before she wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him back.

Her tongue pressed against his, teeth on his bottom lip, nose pressing to his cheek, “you’re so fucking hot,” Wendy whispered in his ear, “so fucking hot.”

Vince pulled back, pleased with himself, then wrinkled his nose “and I need a shower.”

Wendy chuckled at that, giving him a peck, the fire in her eyes clearing out, “can I join?”

“Can you join? Girl, you’re gonna be doing all the washing, this is your mess,” Vince scoffed, smoothing a hand up her back, curling his fingers on her wavy hair and basking on the sex dazed eyes she was giving him. Wendy opened a bright smile. 

“Damn right it is, you’re my mess.”

[dibujoarchive]

magda monday

[our-lord-satanas]

SANTA MUERTE

WHO IS SHE?

Santa Muerte, "Holy Death" in Spanish, is a deity of death and the Underworld. She is a figure of protection and guidance, helping people navigate through the trials and obstacles of life. She is often venerated as a saint, or even considered to be a Goddess, especially in Latin American and Hispanic cultures. Santa Muerte is a spiritual figure, and she has no direct connection to Christianity or any other mainstream religious tradition.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: She is usually portrayed as a female skeletal figure in black robe or a woman in black cloak. In some depictions, she is also shown carrying a scythe. She is sometimes depicted as having long black hair and a skull-like face. She is also often shown with skeletons and skulls as decorations and symbolism.

Personality: Santa Muerte's personality is varied and complex. As a deity of death and the underworld, she is often seen as cryptic and mysterious, often holding a playful and humorous side. She is also often seen as powerful, protective, and caring, offering guidance and support to those in need. In some depictions, she is also seen as vengeful and destructive when crossed.

Symbols: scythe, globe, scales of justice, oil lamp, black cloak or robe, skulls, bones, hourglass, and candles

Goddess of: healing, protection, financial wellbeing, and the afterlife

Culture: Mexican

Plants and trees: fresh flowers, rosemary, apples, marigolds, palm trees, rosary pea, cacti, dandelion, and boneset

Crystals: amethyst, black tourmaline, moonstone, tigers eye, smoky quartz, and melanite

Animals: owl, dogs, cats, dove, crows, and snakes

Incense: Santería, copal, dragon’s blood, palo santo, sandalwood, camphor

Colours: red, white, black, blue, and green

Numbers: 7 and 13

Zodiac: Scorpio (not official)

Tarot: Death

Planets: Saturn and Pluto

Days: Saturday, Monday, Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), and Halloween

Parents: none known

Siblings: Magda

Partner: Mictlantecuhtli

Children: Los Negritos aka The Little Black Ones (not confirmed)

MISC:

• Scythe: one of the most common symbols associated with Santa Muerte, and it represents the final end of life and death itself.

• Crystal ball: used to communicate and make predictions in the presence of Santa Muerte.

• Coins: are often used in offerings to Santa Muerte as a form of payment and gratitude.

• Sugar skull: used in the celebrations of the Day of the Dead in Mexico. They are traditionally created as offerings to Santa Muerte, as well as to the souls of dead ancestors and loved ones.

• Skull: as a Goddess of death, her skull is often another symbol of her.

• Colours: play an important role in many rituals and prayers to Santa Muerte. Red, black, white, and pink are commonly used.

• Rose: often linked to the feminine energy and to love, and they are often used as offerings to Santa Muerte.

• Cross: another of her common symbols is the cross, which represents the bridge between the two worlds: life and death.

• Water: often used in rituals and offerings to Santa Muerte, as it is seen as a medium of communication and a bridge between worlds.

• Candles: also often used in rituals and offerings to Santa Muerte.

FACTS ABOUT SANTA MUERTE:

• She has no connection to Christianity or any other mainstream religious tradition.

• Santa Muerte has become more popular in recent years due to the rising interest in indigenous cultures and spiritualities.

• She is often venerated by those who seek protection, guidance, and spiritual freedom from societal restrictions.

• Santa Muerte is often given a gender and identity, but she is seen as beyond the realm of gender. Some cultures see her as the embodiment of death, but others see her as the feminine embodiment of life.

• Some believe that Santa Muerte possesses clairvoyant and clairaudient abilities, as she is often the subject of paranormal claims and stories.

• Santa Muerte is often depicted as being a protective and benevolent figure, but some also associate her with vengeance and destruction.

• She is often regarded as an intercessor and patron for those who are oppressed or marginalized.

HOW TO WORK WITH SANTA MUERTE:

One way to work with Santa Muerte is to devote time and effort to establishing a spiritual connection with her. This can include setting up an altar dedicated to her, lighting candles, offering prayers and songs of devotion, and giving offerings of flowers, food, alcohol, and other items that she may appreciate. It's important to make this altar a safe and welcoming environment where Santa Muerte feels respected and appreciated. Also, it's important to create a clear intent and intention when establishing a connection with Santa Muerte. It could be something like protection or guidance, and to be consistent in that desire.

PRAYER FOR SANTA MUERTE:

To begin, you can address her by name and say something like: 

"I call upon Santa Muerte, the Queen of the Underworld, the protectress of the dead. I ask for your guidance and presence in my life. I commit to building this connection more deeply and sincerely. I offer you these tokens of my devotion and respect. May I feel your presence and influence in my life. Hail Santa Muerte.”

WHAT ARE SIGNS THAT SANTA MUERTE WANTS ME TO WORK WITH HER?

If your request to work with Santa Muerte has been accepted, here are some signs that you can look for:

• See her symbols or imagery appearing in unexpected places.

• Have vivid dreams or visions about Santa Muerte.

• Feeling drawn or compelled to worship her.

• You feel an immense sense of peace and protection when praying to her.

• A sense of clarity and direction in life that you did not have before.

• You experience positive feelings and sensations when thinking about or focusing on Santa Muerte.

• A sudden interest in death and the Underworld.

• Experience synchronicities and coincidences relating to Santa Muerte.

• Unexpected signs or omens that point to her presence.

• Feeling a sense of protection or guidance when meditating on her symbols or imagery.

• You feel a deep resonance with her attributes and virtues.

If your request to work with Santa Muerte has not been accepted, you may notice the following signs:

• You feel a strong sense of disappointment or rejection when praying to her.

• Find yourself feeling disconnected or distance from her presence.

• Have difficulties establishing a connection with her.

• Experiencing an unexpected setback or blockage in your life.

• Feeling frustrated, confused, or angry when engaging in her devotion.

• You find yourself feeling lost, directionless, or unsure about your life path.

Overall you need to be respectful of deities denying your request.

OFFERINGS:

• Cash.

• Bones or skulls.

• Cigars.

• Tequila or other alcoholic beverages.

• Cannabis.

• Fresh water.

• Cakes.

• Flowers: marigolds, roses, chrysanthemums, and other dark-coloured flowers

• Candles.

• Graveyard dirt (collected respectfully).

• Candy.

• Fruit (mainly apples).

• Chocolate truffles.

• Bread.

• Sugar.

• Anything black: black stones, black ribbons, black jewelry, etc.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR SANTA MUERTE:

• Talking to her in the space you created for her.

• Buying flowers weekly for her altar.

• Getting a tattoo.

• Meditating on her energy.

• Carrying around her images or symbols to protect against negativity and harm.

• Reading and researching about her mythology and history.

• Pray and sing for her.

• Clean up graveyards.

• Draw and paint her.

IS IT SAFE TO EAT OR DRINK AN OFFERING I GIVE TO HER?

Consuming offerings given to Santa Muerte is not recommended because it may disturb the connection with the deity and cause an imbalance in energy. Santa Muerte is a powerful deity and she is not someone to be underestimated. She is a protector and guide of the dead, and she is often seen as a symbol of justice and vengeance. She is a very prominent figure in Latin American and Hispanic religious practices and rituals, and it is important to show respect and reverence when working with her. Consuming offerings given to her may disrupt the connection with the deity and cause an imbalance of energy.

[miraplayssims]

After one of her weekly meetings with the women’s suffrage group, Magdalena stayed behind to show Irene Billingsley one of her manuscripts.

She sat in quiet suspense, watching to older woman read.

“This is brilliant, Ms. Gale,” Irene finally said and sat down next to Magdalena, “you have quite a way with words. You write on a machine, no?”

Magdalena nodded excitedly, “thank you Ms. Billingsley, I do!”

“Very impressive,” Irene said. She seemed to think for a while before clearing her throat, “I have a proposition. Would you like to come work for me, or for us? We’re expanding and need a new secretary. There’s also talk about starting a monthly newsletter, so if you’re interested perhaps you could write columns for that as well.”

Magdalena let out an involuntary squeal, “my goodness, of course! I’d be honoured!”

That night, Magdalena stood in front of her parents´ bedroom door, gathering up courage to tell them the news. Finally she knocked and Alice opened the door, "Magda," she smiled, "did you want something?"

"Good evening mama, may I come in?" Magdalena asked, Alice nodded and gestured her daughter inside, "good evening, papa."

"What´s on your mind, dear?" Alice asked and walked over to Eugene.

"Well, I´ve been offered work," Magdalena said slowly, "it would be six days a week, monday to saturday. I´d still have time to help out at home," she swallowed nervously, "I´m going to accept."

"Why, of course you will!" Eugene exclaimed.

Alice walked over to her daughter and hugged her tight, "congratulations my love. We´re very happy for you."

[alexbkrieger13]

Magda vs Germany (WWC2019)

Bonus cause we stan wag P

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil floods drive thousands from their homes

"When I left for work on Monday, I could still get through the water-logged street with my car. By the afternoon, the army was rescuing people with a truck," says Porto Alegre resident Magda Moura.

That was the day that the floods which have devastated parts of southern Brazil cut off the building she lived in.

"By Wednesday, the water had reached [a height of] 1.7m (5ft 6in)," she recalls.

The 45-year-old physiotherapist is one of 408,100 people who have been displaced by floods triggered by torrential rain in the Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul.

At least 116 people have died across the state and, with many towns still cut off by the flood waters, hopes of finding the more than 140 people who are still missing are dwindling.

Much of the state capital, Porto Alegre, has been plunged into darkness by the flood, which has damaged power and water treatment plants, also leaving most residents without drinking water.

Continue reading.

[naturallyadventured]

upthatrock

Reading, interrupted. 🌱🍵🌱 A splitting headache kept me moaning on the sofa all of Saturday while the temperature shrouded the whole village in silence. I got some respite in the evening and then the morning brought some heavy cloud and a few drops of rain. Sunday was pure bliss. I’m learning that it’s me who has to give *me* the permission to rest. I read a lot. I played with kettle bells. I drank lemonade. I read some more. So simple, so obvious. And somehow still I can forget that I need that, that rest is not optional but essential to functioning. I’m not sad anymore that to realise this I have to support myself with medication that curbs my obsessive tendencies and allows me to find headspace. Last night the sky was heavy with cloud, backlit pink and orange with lightning, rumbling. We watched it while walking the dogs. Then came the rain. Lulu ran out into the garden and Andy had to rescue her, shivering and wet, and she dove into our bedding to find some comfort. Stefan hid under an armchair. Katini and Gaja chilled, enjoying the lowering temps. We chilled also, drank beer, talked. Went to bed rested and full, and I want to say that we rose today fresh and enthusiastic, but Monday slapped us in the face and we’re just chipping away at work, drinking tea, yawning. I’m making the Festival’s new website. Andy’s copywriting for a client. Magda’s doing some mysterious coding. Only the animals seem not to know it’s Monday. They’re chilling. Waiting for more food. Chilling some more. They’ve got it all right. How was your weekend? [photos by @kiellgram]

[marvelstars]

AIPT: A ‘what if’ I’d also love to see! Now, how did the opportunity to write this Magneto mini-series come about? J.M.: Editor Mark Basso called me up and asked me if I was interested. I said yes. It was as easy as that! When Todd Nauck was added to the equation, I knew I’d made the right decision. Todd’s work on this series has been amazing. Every page is better than the one before. Just spectacular stuff. AIPT: Todd’s great! (And a friend of X-Men Monday!) For readers who are only now hearing about this mini-series, what’s your elevator pitch? J.M.: I don’t know if I can boil it down to an elevator pitch! What fascinates me about Magneto is that he’s a mass of contradictions. If you look at those early stories, he’s as one-dimensional a villain as you could possibly find. An arrogant, megalomaniacal, mustache-twirling bad guy with zero redeeming qualities. But as the years progressed, writers — especially Chris Claremont — gave us a much more nuanced, multi-layered portrayal of the character. A man filled with seemingly infinite contradictions. He may be the single most conflicted, multi-layered character in the entire Marvel Universe. As a writer who’s always specialized in getting deep inside characters’ heads, those conflicts and layers fascinate me. And, since I’m such a fan of those early stories, I’m equally fascinated by the disconnect between the (apparently) one-dimensional “evil mutant” introduced in X-Men #1 and the man he evolved into. Was that truly who Magneto was back then… or was his “villain” persona part of some larger plan? Our story will allow us to go back and look at some of the events from the Jack Kirby/Stan Lee-Roy Thomas/Werner Roth eras and view them through a very different lens. And, of course, we pick up our story at a time when Magneto has just taken over as headmaster of Xavier’s school, charged with guiding the New Mutants. The “evil mutant” has now taken on the vision, and the burden, of the man who was once his fiercest enemy. Talk about duality and conflict! The story potential is endless. AIPT: Living the dream! X-Fans Archit and Melanie both were wondering if this mini-series at all explores Magneto’s relationship with his wife Magda and daughter Anya. J.M.: Magda and Anya are part of this story… but not in the way you might expect. And that’s all I can say. This week's eXclusive images are unlettered pages from Magneto #1.

https://aiptcomics.com/2023/07/03/x-...tteis-magneto/

[alexseanchai]

Vanilla Pods is a mini-fest for podfics featuring food. We will accept anything that can be reasonably called 'podfic' and that features food and that has never been posted before.

The theme of 'food' might range from ice-cream parlour AUs to a meta on spice racks in fan works, or a kinky fic involving vanilla beans (yes: a vanilla kink). Your definition of 'podfic' can include a wide range of traditional and non-traditional audio formats. Collaborative works are encouraged. Think outside the (veg) box!

Deadline: until it is no longer Monday 1 May 2023 anywhere in the world. Reveals on Wed 3 May 2023.

(Background photo by Magda Fou on Unsplash)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - Chapter Three.

Thrilled. I am absolutely THRILLED at the popularity of my little story! :D big thanks to everyone who is enjoying it and being so kind in your commentary!

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,665

Warnings - 18+ for later chapters. Minors DNI!

“Now, if you’re done misbehaving,” she began, Alfie chuckling.

“You enjoy it when I’m being a bad boy though, don’t ya?”  

Oh, he was so fucking puckish. She wouldn’t lose her cool, though. “How does such a dynamic work?”

“Very well,” he chirped, his eyebrows fluttering up fleetingly.  

Her lips curled into a crescent, rolling her eyes ever so slightly. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“It works as thus. I date three women at once, and divide my time between them equally. I’m out with all three of them Tuesdays and Saturdays, and then I spend time with them individually on other designated days. Mondays are with Talia, Wednesdays with Amira and Thursdays with Mimi. Fridays and Sundays, I have time to myself, see my friends, whatever I like, generally.” His explanation was succinct and to the point, but Beth pressed further.

“And do they come to you, or you to their homes? Or a mix between the two?”

He smirked. “My home is their home. They live with me.”  

This set up became more and more curious to her as each little facet was disclosed. “You’re surprised by that.” he discerned.  

Her shoulder twitched, her head inclining again. “Somewhat,” she professed. “There has to be an element of jealousy there, all three of them within the same space, vying for your affections.”

His eyes darkened just a touch, lifting his chin in slight defiance. “Which they receive equally, so no, no jealousy. I choose my companions carefully. Jealous girls never last within my world. I’m too much of a stickler for harmony, and I have that in my three ladies. I ain’t the kind of man who stands for dramatic shenanigans, trust me.”

She felt a little embarrassed at her presumptive statement, dropping her gaze momentarily, gathering herself. “Duly noted. So, why three? What do they, or your set up with them do for you that one woman doesn’t?”  

“It adds variety, for a start. Also, I profess to being greedy. Why only have one girlfriend when I can date three or more at once? They each have something about them that I fell for, something that had me hooked, so there’s the draw. I’ve dated only one woman in the past and been fairly content, but for the last seven years, I’ve welcomed the polygamous approach.”

“And the highest number of women you’ve courted at one time?”

“Four, but it was a bloody nightmare. I had to do a lot of fine tuning, to be happy with the three I have now. The fourth I finished with a few months ago. She was neurotic, expected me to change for her wants and needs, finish with Amira and Talia, although Mimi she had no issue with. I believe she would have eventually attempted to edge her out of the relationship too, though, had I conceded to her demands.”

“So, you wouldn’t change for the right woman, then?”

“I’m with the right women. All three of them. I wouldn’t expect you to understand if you’ve never experienced it. Kinda like chucking a cat at a bicycle and expecting it to be able to ride it.”  

That analogy reminded her greatly of something her darling Magda would say, Beth snorting with laughter. “Apologies, perhaps I should rephrase. If you found everything that you were looking for in one woman, you wouldn’t consider monogamy?”

He sniffed, raising his eyebrows as he leaned across the table. “I ain’t met such a unicorn yet, that one mythical creature. I might find her one day, I hope to, at least. I’m happy as I am at the moment, and I live in the moment. That’s the fun of life, don’t ya think, Beth? Live for now, because none of us ever know what’s lurking for us around the corner.”

“And the ladies would be happy with that, do you think, long term? No promises of them actually being long term?”

“You’d have to ask them yourself.” He looked thoughtful for a few moments, thanking the waiter when their first course was brought out. “You seem to still be disbelieving of the harmonious balance of my private life, so, how about you experience it first hand? I’d have to run it past the girls, but if they don’t have an issue with it, I’d like to extend an invite to you, to come and stay with us. Say, for a week? You can ask them anything you want then, within reason, I can’t speak for them with what they’re likely to answer.”

Her first instinct was to say yes, she couldn’t deny. Such a prospect, to be so immersed within the world of the article she was writing did not present itself every day. The words spoken to her by Kelly the barmaid hadn’t been far from her mind, however. ‘Alfie always has his own agenda, poppet.’

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her card and slid it across the table. “Talk to them first, and if they’re fine with the prospect then I shall consider it.”

He snorted softly, looking as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard, that a woman would ever think twice at being asked to stay as a guest in his home. “What is there to consider?”

That was the first time Beth witnessed any arrogance from him, or perhaps it was merely surprise, since she knew first-hand how many women would have leapt at his offer. “Plenty.”

“Such as?” He wouldn’t let it go, it seemed, until she told him exactly what her reservations were. Again, Kerry’s words were present in the back of her mind about Alfie scoping her out. Taking that into consideration, as well as their playful flirting, the way he continued to look upon her with nothing but keen appreciation, too, and well, Beth knew how to add up.

“I have to be certain that you’re only moving me in there temporarily as a guest to work, observe the dynamic of your home life, and not pursue anything extra to that,” she began, Alfie cutting in when she paused.

“And what would be so bad about that, ay? Let’s cut the shit, the dancing around it. I see you’re a professional woman first and foremost, and I respect that. However, we both find one another attractive, so why would you be averse to pursuing where that initial attraction might lead?”

She licked her lips momentarily, taking a gulp of her wine. “Because whereas you might be welcoming to dating multiple women at once, I wouldn’t be content being one of many. I know myself, I know what I’m seeking in a man, and sharing him with three others is definitely not something I’d be open to.”

“How would you truly know unless you tried, though?” He frowned.

“Because I know my worth, and my worth is fidelity.” She was staunch, he had to respect that. Alfie was not a man who simply gave up at the first hurdle, though.  

“Alright. How about this, then. How about you let me take you back to mine and shag the living daylights out of you for the next few hours? Because I desire nothing more right now. You mentioned honesty a short time ago, so let me be honest there. I want you. Could be fun, something casual if you ain’t in the market for anything more?”  

His bluntness caught her a little off guard, the subtlety of the flirting they’d skittered back and forth now replaced with intentions that displayed all the delicacy of a lump hammer.  

“Your girlfriends wouldn’t have an issue with that?”

“I ain’t asking my girlfriends. I’m asking you.”

“No.”  

From the slight affronted look, Beth knew well it was not a word he was used to hearing.  

“You should give me a go, love. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I said no.”

“That’s what you said. Ain’t what you think, though, is it?”

He reminded her of Claus, Magda’s youngest rottweiler, when the dog had a chew toy. Once he’d bitten on, he did not let go easily.  

“I don’t know what you’re used to, Alfie, other than refusing to accept the word no, but I’m not that easy. I might like a chat and a flirt, but anything further, well, that doesn’t come without considerable effort on the part of the gentleman.”

A challenge. He liked that. “Then you’ll be worth it.”  

“So, I hear you recently acquired The Pendulum. Tell me about that.”

“I’ll take you there, if you like? The penthouse is free tonight.” Oh, he just did not give up. Her lips tightened just a fraction, his keenness beginning to agitate her a smidgen.  

“Are you the sole owner, or have you purchased it with the assistance of investors?”

“I own it outright.”

“Is that the same for your other establishments?”

“Not all of them, but I hold the majority share of the lot. Investors are important in my game, save my bloody overdraft being higher than it is.”  

A small silence followed, the waiter taking away their plates. “Beth, I would like to extend an apology. I should not have been so blunt and disrespectful of you, and for that I am sorry. You are a professional journalist and I appreciate that, but I realise I went too far. It’s in my nature, to see something I want and go after it, right, but perhaps the more salacious of my comments were not appropriate, and I acknowledge that.”

He’d read the situation accurately, that while she enjoyed the back and forth of some flirting, his bluntness over desiring to bed her could have been constituted as going a little too far, especially when he was meeting with her in a professional capacity.  

“I appreciate that, thank you,” she replied with courtesy, Alfie attentive by pouring her another glass of wine.  

“I tend to lose my head, when wit and beauty begin to enchant me. My offer still stands for you to come and stay with me and my ladies, though, in the interests of getting as much as you can in way of content for your article.”

“Let me know, once you have spoken with them and we shall see.”

He might not have been used to it, her resolution and steely conviction, something he found himself able to talk most people out of when he came up against an answer he did not want to accept, but oh, how he respected her for it. Rarely, if ever, did he encounter women who were so steadfast. The remainder of the interview went by without incident, Beth enjoying her time with him, hearing of his life and accomplishments, which he backtracked the narrative to include in a little finer detail upon her request.  

“I enjoyed my afternoon with you, Beth. Please, allow me to run you home,” he spoke after they’d left the restaurant, walking around the corner to where he’d parked, the lights of a black Lamborghini Aventador flashing at the press of his key fob.  

“I’m over in Putney, you sure?”

“Absolutely, I won’t hear of you getting a cab.” A luxury sportscar was certainly preferrable transportation, Beth climbing in and trying not to look too amazed by the exquisite interior, wanting to remain cool. It was incredible, though, even more so when he started the engine.  

“What is it, seven hundred bhp?” she asked after he’d put her postcode into the sat nav and they’d whizzed off, the car flying up the narrow street.

“Close, seven seventy. It’s a beast on the motorway, but taking it over to Germany to let it fly on the Autobahn is where I really get my kicks. Fuckin’ sees off most other things on there,” he confirmed, glancing sideways at her.  

“I drove my ex’s three litre Golf GTI down there once to Munich, which is literally less than a quarter of the power of this car, but blimey, it was so much fun pushing it to a hundred and fifty.” Her revelation made him grin.

“Nah, I’d never knock a Golf. I used to have one back when I first learned to drive. Bit of a petrol head then, are ya? What do you drive?”

“I don’t,” she began, tucking her hair behind her ear. “The parking on my road is shit and London has public transport in abundance, so it makes sense to not have an extra expense I truly don’t need.”

“Means you can keep yourself in such nicely tailored clothes, as well. Seriously, that dress looks like it was made for you. Not all women can wear Versace well. Mimi found that out recently when I took the girls to Italy for the week. Everything she loved, didn’t look lovely on her. She’s a Gucci girl, though. Fuckin’ gives my card a right belting when I take her.”  

“You live to spoil them, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. I’m generous by nature to those who leave an impression upon me. And we’re new, too, so she maybe gets spoilt a little bit more than the other two.” He seemed so very enamoured, as he talked of his newest girlfriend, such warmth when he spoke her name. It was stark in the face of the fact that if she’d said yes, he’d be driving her back to his home to bed her right now. His somewhat skewed morals on fidelity were something she would make a point to ask him in a little finer detail, should she end up becoming his house guest.  

Was that how he chose a new girlfriend, she wondered? Took her out, tested for a further spark upon the initial attraction, and then straight to the bedroom to discover if the sexual compatibility matched? It wasn’t something she would broach now. In fact, if his girlfriends agreed to her presence within their home, she would likely ask them, the stories of how they found themselves dating Alfie.  

“This is me, black door.” Pulling up outside her flat, Alfie glanced up at her modest abode, Beth unclipping her belt and lifting her bag from the footwell.  

“I like your place. These old houses have stacks of character,” he began, nodding toward her flat. “So, let me run it past the girls, and I’ll be in touch, yeah? I had a good time with you this afternoon, I’d like it to happen again, if I’m honest. But I accept your stance. Just. Bye, Bethany with the lovely legs.”  

He winked, taking her hand and kissing it, Beth smiling with a little nod. “In turn, thank you for a fabulous lunch and your time. I’ll await your call.” Getting out of the car, she left the land of luxury cars and lunches that must have come to over three hundred pounds (she’d looked online prior to their meet) behind and stepped into her flat, the roar of his car filling her ears as she shut the door and kicked off her shoes, sighing with relief as her slightly pinched feet made contact with the soft carpet.  

She hoped his girlfriends agreed, because she sensed she could get a hell of an article out of it, adding their take on their lives with him to her writing as well. Quietly, though, despite what she’d so emphatically stated, she did want to see Alfie again. The mix of gentleman and bad boy was alluring, she had to admit. Not to him, though. She’d only admit such to herself.  

Changing out of the loaned dress carefully and putting it back in its bag, ready to take to the dry cleaner of Magda’s choice before it returned to its home in the ELLE wardrobe room, Beth tied back her hair and clipped up her fringe, taking her favourite Elemis cleanser and thoroughly dredging her skin in it to remove her makeup, changing into her sweats and an old, oversized t shirt, exiting to go and brew herself some coffee before hunkering down at her desk, ready to begin transcribing her interview.  

While she typed, Alfie pulled in through the electric gates off Fulham Road, into the frontage of his home, the newly converted St Mark’s House, Chelsea. The former church, designed by Victorian architect Edward Blore, hadn’t been one of the priciest of homes he’d viewed after selling his Canary Wharf penthouse four months previously, but it had been exactly what he’d been looking for. His mother had thrown a fit when he’d first brought her there.  

“A bloody church, Alf?”

“Former church, mum.”

He’d received a stream of opposition in muttered Yiddish before she’d even crossed the threshold, but Sarra had to concede eventually that his home was absolutely beautiful. Crossing that same threshold, he was met by the sound of a booming bark, his faithful bullmastiff Cyril charging towards him. Mimi’s ridiculous Pomeranian’s must have been up in her room to not be accompanying him.

“How’s my boy, ay? How you doing then, big stuff?” Scratching the gargantuan dog heartily, he the proceeded to the kitchen, finding Amira, singing to herself as she retrieved a bottle of vodka from the freezer, pouring herself a liberal measure. Taking a raw chicken wing from the fridge, he threw it at Cyril, the dog ambling away after catching it, Alfie moving to behind his lady.

“Evenin’, gorgeous,” he greeted her, arms sliding around her waist, mouth pressing against the side of her neck. “Got them bog rolls in your hair again, ay?” He always joked about the size of her hair curlers, huge enough to put just the right amount of wave in her dark brown tresses.  

“Well, if you’d let me go so I can finish getting ready, it’d be less bog roll and more lovely, wavy locks,” she protested, turning to kiss him. “I’ll be about forty minutes. I can’t vouch for the others, though. Mimi is still in the bath and Talia is... somewhere. I dunno, but I’ll be prompt.” Another kiss, and she and her Stolichnaya were gone, Alfie preparing himself an espresso to quickly sink, before wandering through his abode in the direction of the bathroom.  

“Yay, daddy’s home!” Mimi squeaked from within her barrage of bubbles, Alfie leaning down to kiss her.  

“How’s my baby?”  

“Better now you’re here. How’d your lunch with the journalist go?” she inquired as he crouched at her side, taking off his cufflinks to roll up his shirt sleeves, one hand delving into the hot water to stroke the incredible body beneath with affection.  

“It went well, yeah. Anyway, shouldn't you be getting out and ready for tonight, instead of lying here luxuriating?”

“Maybe I’d be more in the mood to move if you weren’t playing with me.”

“Ahh, touché.” His hand slipped down further, chucking gruffly when his fingers skimmed her folds, pushing within, sliding inside of her as he leaned to kiss her again, Mimi biting her lip with a soft moan.

“I’ll pull you in with me.”

He snorted, raising his eyebrows. “Is that meant to be a deterrent? Because it ain’t much of one, princess.”  

“Go on, go hurry Talia up. We all know she spends the longest faffing. You can play with me later.”

“Promise?”

The kiss she gave him confirmed such. “Always. Love you most.”

“Love you too, flower.” He winked, removing his hand and standing, drying off his arm on the way out, heading up a floor and finding Talia in her room, dresses laid out on her bed.  

“The green one. Definitely the green, darlin’,” he spoke, wrapping her in his arms, kissing her glossy lips when she turned to pucker at him. “That fuckin’ sticky crap you lot insist on bloody wearing!” Wiping his mouth, he frowned at her giggles, kissing her cheek a couple of times.  

“And here was me thinking you liked a nice set of wet lips.”

“I do, but not the ones on your face, my love.” He received a soft elbow to the abs, Talia nuzzling him before picking up her dress, taking his recommendation for the green Miu Miu. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Okay, gorgeous. See you in a bit.” A bit was a further hour before he and Amira were joined by Mimi first and Talia shortly after, leaving the house and climbing into his new Range Rover, Alfie whisking them across London to Belgravia, where they had a table booked at Zafferano.

He waited until they’d finished their main course before broaching the subject of Beth, tentatively putting the question to them over coffee for himself, and shots of limoncello for them.

“Anyway, as you are all aware, I had the lunch meeting with the journalist earlier, and off the back of such, have a proposition for you all. I’d like to have her come stay as our guest for a week, so she may observe the dynamic of our relationship for herself, immerse herself in our world to absorb as much as possible for the sake of her article. Would you all be comfortable with that?”

Amira was the first to speak. “I’d be fine with that, but tell us honestly, is that your sole reason, or are you pursuing her as a fourth? Seeing the way you interacted with her at Midland the other night, we all saw clearly that you fancy her.”

“I’ll be honest. Yeah, I would like that, to see if she worked as a fourth. I do find her interesting and attractive, but Beth has made it very clear that such a setup is of no interest to her, so her stay would be purely on a professional basis.”

The girls appreciated him for his candour, all agreeing to it. With that, it was settled, Alfie looking forward to getting to spend some more time with Beth. Regardless of the stance she had made abundantly clear, never let it be said that he didn’t enjoy rising to a challenge, and Beth Drake would most certainly prove to be just that.

[chelseafcwmemes]

Magda definitely leave if she still on the bench for next game

No matter if she’s flying to the moon next monday, going to Rosengård or leaving to join an Antarctic cult I frankly don’t care but we’re clearly better with her on the pitch and that should matter