#I don’t know. we r looking into it. 🫣

[sanchoyo]

well talking to my mom went well (I just told her I’m really unsure rn. Her first response was ‘oh well what’s the rush, ur not dating rn are u?’ Which. What does that have to do with gender??? It made me stop and laugh at least lmao). Also she suggested I just keep the clothes in a box or smth for a month or two so that if I change my mind abt dresses and skirts I don’t throw them out and regret it. Which was an awesome suggestion bc quite frankly I’m very emotionally attached to my clothes. A lot of the dresses are real vintage or actually worth a lot too and very unique and…a part of me wants to try and rework them and sew them into either shirts or pants bc they’d fuck severely but 1. I don’t have a sewing machine 2. I…feel weird about modifying such old clothes. It feels kind of bad…like what if I fuck them up bc lack of sewing experience!! I’ve only rly done basic mending (…and I guess that Ichigo cosplay years ago but even that didn’t turn out great bc it was my first project. aaa)

[norrizzandpia]

I’d like to be the start of your writing for Spence. I’m an absoluteWHORE for your angst and just angst in general 🫣. Can I request a Spencer x fem!reader who also works for the BAU where they have a massive argument like borderline break up and then she gets shot while jn the field and the bullet misses the FBI vest and he’s worried over her and everything and just lots and lots of angst. You can choose the ending😘)

Happy ending!

Children (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Y/n and Spencer have always been in love, talks of the future always prevalent. But, a fight about what happens when they have a baby sparks ruin for their entire relationship. A bullet sparks ruin for Y/n herself.

Warnings: takes of child abduction, shootings, hospitals, language, ANGSTT

Note: a new installment to my one-off Spencer Reid imagines lol

Y/N POV

Can’t he just shut up and listen to me? This fight is unnecessary, completely based on something so hypothetical. A fight about children, not that if we’ll have any, but what will happen if we do.

“I’m not gonna quit my job, Spencer! How could you even think I would do that? Do you know me at all?” I huffed, staring at him as if everything he was saying didn’t make sense. It didn’t.

His tall form loomed over me like he was trying to intimidate me into conceding. Apparently he truly had no idea who I was. “If you get pregnant, of course I’m gonna ask you to quit this job. You can get another one anywhere else, but the dangers of this job are nothing for a child.”

I rolled my eyes, “Nobody’s saying it isn’t! But, it’s my job and my life and I decide when I leave this position. I decide what I do when I’m pregnant.”

His arms crossed together in front of him and his eyes were smoldering, even though he refused to look at me - I could tell. “Really? So, I have no say in the trajectory of our child’s life?”

I scoffed and withdrew from him, sitting in the corner to gain some sort of space. Thirty minutes ago, we had been going through files and trying to find any connection to this child and its abductor. An unserious comment by Spencer about the mother being absent in her child’s life, leading to his disappearance, had my eyebrow raising. A quick clarification and confirmation that Spencer did, in fact, expect me to leave the BAU the second I found out I was pregnant had me all, but happy. Thirty minutes ago, the future of us seemed there and tangible, now it was messy.

In the middle of a random conference room, I yelled at Spencer and he yelled at me. Truthfully, I was beginning to lose sight of what was even being said, the points I was trying to make, but I refused to back down. Not when my career was at stake.

“I never said that! All I’m saying is that I can handle a baby and a job all at the same time, Spencer. I don’t need you dictating my capabilities.” My cheeks flushed and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Morgan leaning against the wall, listening to our argument. Maybe he could talk some sense into the man that stood before me.

Spencer shook his head then held it in his hands, “God, you’re so stupid. That’s not what I’m say-”

My eyes bulged, “What did you just say? I’m so stupid? Oh, I’m so sorry, Spence, that your girlfriend can’t keep up with your IQ.” I scoffed and let my eyes glaze over to stop the tears, “If you think I can’t fucking keep up with you then why do you even fight with me? Clearly, according to you, your points are beyond me.”

His gaze trained on me, scarily cold, “They are. If they weren’t, you’d be agreeing with me.”

The small insecurity in me, the one that was so heavily aware of all that Spencer was, swallowed me whole. “Well, if I’m such a fucking basket case, why am I the mother of your children in your head?”

I needed him to reassure me. I needed him to drop the distant eyes and come back to me. I needed all of this to be over with and I needed the Spencer I knew to tell me he still saw me as the future of his everything.

But, he shook his head, so confidently, and reaffirmed it all, “Good point. Finally, a decent point made by you in the past thirty-seven minutes.”

The tears welled in my eyes and I couldn’t help the sound of them in my voice, “Perfect! Whatever woman you meet that you love more than me, enough to have your children, I hope she’s willing to put her whole life on hold for you.”

He shrugged, “Thanks.”

His long legs stalked out of the room and I heard Morgan’s voice badgering him the second he entered the hallway.

Me, I let myself sit in the chair behind me for a few moments before wiping the tears away and looking back at the files splayed about the table. There was a child missing. My woes didn’t matter right now.

Spencer couldn’t matter right now.

—

I could feel the tension in the car, Spencer’s thigh right up against mine as Emily eyed us in the rearview mirror. I wasn’t surprised our fight was known to the entire group an hour after we had had it, but it still was numbing to experience the pure pain of his words whilst trying to shove them all down. I couldn’t stomach it, the meaning of what he said. Neither of us had said it, the horrific topic that hadn’t come up in the five years we had been together, but Spencer essentially did with his definitive statement about me not being in his future. I know I led him there. I know people sometimes say things they don’t mean in fights, but he’s Spencer. Usually, he’s composed and thinks before he lets important words go. I don’t know how those sentences could ever leave his mouth without him truly meaning them.

Penelope briefs us on our way to the unsub’s house. His background, disturbing, and his connection to the child, fired teacher at the school the boy goes to, all checked out.

Emily’s finger waves as she scolds all of us, “Do not shoot unless we have the child and there’s probable cause. We want this guy alive.”

There are nods all around the SUV and out of the front window, I can see cop cars lined in the street. Not a single officer makes a noise as they wait for Emily’s call. Her eyes turn to me.

”Y/n, I need you to go in first. Our team will follow behind. You’re the best at negotiating.” I nod and she smiles at me, but Spencer stands in front of me before I can make a move.

”Woah, this guy’s completely unpredictable. It’s way too dangerous for her to go in front.” He questions Emily and my rage bubbles over.

My hand nudges him out of the way, our stares at each other, “I’m not pregnant, so it's fine, right?”

His eyes roll and Morgan laughs under his breath before my steps are bringing me to the door of the old, white house.

The door creaks as I open it and I hear small cries coming from a few rooms down. I look back, the team behind me with their guns drawn. They’re all looking for possible targets about the room, but Spencer stares at me. His eyes bore into mine and I know he’s anxious. I’m still so angry, but the look he gives me, the one I’ve been subjected to over the past years, makes all the second guessing I was doing fade away. Nobody looks at another person that way if they don’t see rings and babies with them. He still waits for a future with me, just like I do him.

Now’s not the time, though. The cries become louder and my head snaps to the direction of them.

Spencer can wait.

Spencer has to wait.

Justin holds a gun to our team, the boy behind him. His hand shakes and I immediately begin gathering what I’m going to say. His sweating face and jittering body tell me he never planned this out correctly. He was never smart enough to pull off a crime such as this and he knows it. He knows jail is destined for him. He’s scared. After the childhood he’s had, he needs to know a life of terror does not await him. If anything, the court will order him to a mental institution. The man’s not dangerous, he’s haunted. We all are a little bit.

”Justin, can you put down the gun for me?” I say, my voice soft and quiet. My hands are up and I take a step toward him.

The gun waves, “Do not come any further.”

Somebody’s gun clicks behind me. I know it’s Spencer.

I nod, “Okay. Can you tell me why you took Oliver?”

Oliver, the poor boy, stands behind Justin with a teary face. From what I can see, he’s not physically harmed and he looks to be the same weight he was before. From an external perspective, Oliver is fine.

Justin cries, “His family wasn’t feeding him. They weren’t taking care of him. He wasn’t loved. He wasn’t nurtured in the way he needs to be.”

I give a reassuring smile, “And you thought you could give that to him?”

Justin nods and I take another step. His gun waves a bit more, but I’m not scared. Men like him never shoot.

“I said to not come closer!” He yells, but I take another step.

My hands go up higher, “I know, but I just need Oliver, Justin. Can you give me Oliver? I promise he’ll be alright. We just need to talk as adults.”

Justin hesitates before pushing Oliver toward Morgan. Morgan’s gun gets put in his holster before he’s ushering the sobbing boy out of the room, consoling him as much as he can. With the boy gone, I know I can be a bit more aggressive.

I take another step.

”Stop!” Justin yells.

”Put down the gun, Justin.” I take another step.

His eyes fly about the room and just as I make the decision to back off, his gun clicks and fires.

It’s almost like I watch the bullet make its way to me. For a split second, the memory and feeling of my vest soothes me, but the blinding pain in my neck pushes me to the floor. I still think I haven’t been hit, but blood on my hands when I retract it from the spot that numbs my entire body makes the adrenaline leave my body.

I’ve been shot in the neck.

Another gun goes off and I watch Justin fall to the floor. There’s a scream and then Spencer’s looming over me, his eyes on mine as his fingers press on the wound. I wince and he apologizes, but I can barely hear it. His mouth is moving, but nothing meets my ears. The tears falling from his face land on my cheek and it all becomes surreal.

I can’t form words, can’t communicate in any way. I’m going to die and Spencer will never know I knew he didn’t mean any of it.

—

THIRD PERSON POV

Spencer’s knee bounces up and down in the dim waiting room of the hospital. Morgan’s hand stays on his shoulder in a silent reminder that he’s there. Blood dries on Spencer’s sleeves, smudging on his face as he continues to rub his red fingers against his skin.

“Do you think I was wrong for asking her to leave her job?” He voices the question that he hasn’t stopped thinking about since they got into their fight.

Morgan sighs, “I think she’s right that it’s her life. Yes, it would be your baby, but she’s capable of making decisions herself. She has been in the multitude of years she spent without you. I get your concern, I really do, but imagine if she was asking you to quit your job.”

He knows he’s right, but it’s hard to stomach. Knowing she’s lying on a table, completely open, knowing there’s a potential she doesn’t come back, knowing he might have no chance to tell her how much he wants forever with her makes him vomit in the trash can next to him.

Morgan grimaces and looks away before Spencer awkwardly puts the bin back down, sorry for the person that has to find it sometime soon.

“I do want a future with her. Not with anyone else.” He whispers, his voice choppy from the tears.

Morgan pats his shoulder, “I know you do, kid. I would never doubt that for a second.”

Again, ever so quietly, “I love her so much.”

Again, a pat on his shoulder, “I know you do. She knows that too.”

Spencer turns in his seat, his face grave, “But, you didn’t see the way she looked at me when I said she was stupid. How stupid am I! She’s one of the smartest people I know! She has never and will never be stupid in my mind. God, I’m so fucking stupid.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything, a silent agreement. “You love her. You’ll get to tell her. That’s what matters.”

”How could I walk away from her like that? Leave it like that? All I’ve ever done is love her. Never was I angry at her more than I love her, never was I disappointed in her more than I love her. My entire life is lived because I love her. I’m not ready to lose her yet.” He can barely get the words out, but he does and it’s all the more heartbreaking.

Morgan saw all the blood, Morgan saw the life leaving her skin. But, Morgan also saw the life she was as a person, the brightness she brought to everyone around her. He saw the way she made Spencer feel. Stripping the life from someone like that, someone like Y/n, would take a lot because it was just that big.

—

Y/N POV

The light behind my eyelids is way too bright for my liking. People need to dim the bulbs in a hospital. Jesus Christ, nobody ever likes anything that bright.

The weight around my hand and arm is what forces my eyes open. Brown hair falls around my lap as one hand clutches my own and the other arm slithers up against mine and cradles it.

I let my fingers slip from his grip and fall into the knots of his hair, scratching lightly. It wakes him and in the moment where Spencer resides in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, he lets his hand find mine in his hair.

“That feels nice.” He murmurs and I smile.

”Spence,” I whisper, “wake up.”

He stays quiet for a moment, I almost think he’s gone back to sleep, but his hands begin to reach for different parts of my body. Clutching my hips, my waist, my arms, my hands in order to gauge the reality of the situation. I giggle and he sighs.

”This isn’t a dream. Please, don’t be a dream.”

I laugh again and squeeze his arm, “It’s not a dream.”

The man rises to his full height, suddenly leaning over me to kiss me quickly. When he pulls back, he begins his nervous rambling.

”I didn’t mean what I said. You’re not stupid. You’re so far from it. I want a future with you. I need a future with you. Of course, I do. I hate doing anything without you. I can’t have you not in my life.” He stares at me, his fingers tangling with mine.

“Spence?”

”Yes?”

”I know.”

He breathes and it sounds like it's the first real breath he’s taken since the last time I saw him.

“I’m so sorry. If you want to stay at the BAU, just take a maternity leave, I support you in that decision. This is your life, you make your own decisions. It would be our baby, I make decisions with you on our baby. I don’t make decisions about your life. I’m sorry.”

I rub his hand.

”I know.”

He lets himself fall back into his chair, clearly relieved. He holds his chin in his hands and stares at me. His brown eyes make me chuckle, “What?”

”Nothing, just happy to enjoy the view once more.” He smiles and I swat my hand at him in the air, rolling my eyes. My grin is ear to ear, though.

A silence passes between us before I’m gesturing to the bandage across my neck, “Do you think this will leave a cool enough scar for me to tell our children?”

Spencer nods, “For sure. Hell, not even our children will find it cool. I will too. The team even.”

My head cocks, “Where is the team anyway?”

He smiles, “They left yesterday. They’ll be here later today. They said they wanted me to be the first person you saw so we could get all the ‘bad blood’ out of the air.”

The laughing that ensues from me pains the hole in my neck so I resort to controlled snickering, “So, the team knows how serious we are about children now?”

Spencer waves his hand at me, “Oh, they knew all about how serious our future was together the second you started at the BAU and I was fawning over you with every step you took.”

[ellastone-olsen]

Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭

Blue glow - WandaNat

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.

Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R

Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.7k

AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao

"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.

late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...

“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…

“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.

There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.

If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.

When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"

You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.

You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.

"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”

Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.

You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.

You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.

The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.

You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.

Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”

[matchaverse]

Smau of logan n reader but reader is a Williams teammate n they both r so inlove they didn't even notice, and they do get together and the reader posts him alot whereas logan doesn't like posting much

Birds of a feather | LS2

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!williamsdriver!reader

summary: from being teammates to lovers but you question logan’s commitment to you when he lacks in the social affection

type: smau and written

a/n: logan will be getting the season he deserves in this fic

face claim: pictures from pinterest

2023, March 5th.

“nervous?” you ask as you peak into logan’s driver room. sargeants is your new teammate, it’s his rookie year and the first race of the season here in Bahrain.

logan chuckles softly as he sits in his fireproofs, looking up from his lap to meet your gaze.

“yeah..”

“don’t worry, you will do great. i have faith in you”

“thanks..i appreciate that, especially coming from you.” logan tells you.

- - - - - - -

p10 and p12 are the places the two of you got. you got points for yourself and for the team, and logan was so close of getting some points.

you walk into the williams garage and see logan sitting there staring out into space.

“what’s got you down rookie?” you ask walking up to him, taking off your balaclava and removing your hair tie, letting the hair flow down your back.

“it’s just..p12..”logan mumbles.

“it’s your first year in f1 and you placed really well. don’t get so worked up over it” you tell him, taking a seat next to him.

“i wish i could have gotten us some points” logan confesses.

“first race of the season logan, we have so much time” you smile, giving him a pat on the back.

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🦅🦅🦅🦅 p10 and p12 baby!!

replies:

logansargeant: I HATE THAT PICTURE PLEASE 💀

charlesleclerc: don’t let your teammate turn you into an american 😭

yourusername: i’m a proud monégasque driver, dont worry

pierregasly: i was scared for my life with you right behind me

yourusername: as you should be 🫶🏻

- - - - - - - -

2023, November 26th.

[instagram] yourusername

liked by logansargeant, charlesleclerc, and 839,639 others

tagged | @/logansargeant @/williamsracing

yourusername | p5 and p6 for williams! great season this year and cannot wait for next year!! 🤍🤍

username: hello???? the first pic??

username: oh yall together together!!

username: the hand placement 😫😫

logansargeant: this was a great rookie year 🫶🏻

yourusername: 🥹🥹 you did so good this year

charlesleclerc: the 4th pic??

logansargeant: NO PLEASE DONT LOOK

yourusername: he tried to get me to touch a fish…

charlesleclerc: *gasp* no!

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🥹 he’s so pretty

replies:

username: it’s been months, why doesn’t logan post about you?

username: cuties!!

charlesleclerc: you’re not in monaco???

yourusername: 🫣 i’m in the states

charlesleclerc: traitor!!

- - - - - -

you know logan loved you, he made it known everyday but seeing comments on twitter or your instagram of people asking why he doesn’t post you kinda makes you question it.

you sit on the bed looking at logan as he scrolls through his phone. logan notices you staring for a while so he shifts to look at you.

“why you staring baby?”

you shrug, shaking your head and looking back at your phone.

“dont shake your head” he says sitting up on his elbow and his free hand grabs your chin to make you look at him. “you’re thinking of something, tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours”.

“it’s just..it’s stupid lo..”

“nothing is stupid with you”

you smile softly, a soft sigh leaving your lips.

“why don’t you post me?” you ask softly.

logan shrugs, removing his hand from your chin and sitting up properly.

“i don’t know..im not really a social media person”

“i know that babe..that’s why i said it’s stupid”

logan nods slightly, eyes flickering to your phone seeing twitter open. he grabs your phone and looks through the comments. you just sit there and let him.

logan sigh and puts your phone down on the bed, grabbing your hands.

“baby i love you and im sorry it makes you doubt my love for you..ill do better” he says.

you shake your head. “i don’t doubt your love i know you love me..”

“i’m gonna post more about you”

“you don’t have to”

“but i want too”

- - - - - - - -

[instagram] logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 638,946 others

tagged | @/yourusername

logansargeant | my love 🤍

yourusername: logie 🥹

logansargeant: i love you

username: logan saw yall saying he didn’t care and shut that DOWN!

username: oh he’s down bad

username: she got him to dress up as ghostface???

yourusername: got him wrapped around my pretty little finger

charlesleclerc: MY EYES!!

yourusername: YOU POST WORST ABOUT ALEX

williamsracing: this is our team couple!!

logansargeant posted a story

caption: my girl is better than yours 🤍

replies:

yourusername: LOGAN!!

logansargeant: 🤤🤤

oscarpiastri: NOT SOMETHING YOU SHARE???

logansargeant: too bad

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hey babes😘 I love your Spencer x sunshine reader fics

Do you think Could you write a one shot of Spencer x sunshine reader where R is out of character annoyed or has an angry out bursts and Spencer trys to calm her down or something like that🩷🫣🪩

The door slams shut behind you, rattling the frame as you throw yourself into your spinning chair. 

You’re in Florida, already not a good thing, but now the local officers can’t seem to stop disregarding what you guys are telling them and it’s causing the Unsub to be even more rash prematurely. 

“Fucking idiots.” 

Spencer looks up from the board he’s staring at, frowning as he watches you snap a couple pencils from your case. 

“Y/n,” smooth and soft as velvet, but today you’re too prickly for it to work and make you smile. 

“I’m fine Spencer,” except getting the words out sounds like you’ve locked your jaw and can’t open it as you speak. Spencer doesn’t hold your attitude against you. 

He puts down the whiteboard marker, shoes clacking as he makes his way over to you. 

“I know you’re stressed, but we’ll get them. We always do, your profile hasn’t been wrong yet.” 

You huff, wishing away your bad mood as Spencer is being so encouraging. But you can’t, the longer you sit by idly the more your skin crawls. 

“Yeah but will we get them before those idiots make it so that their body count reaches twenty before we can get them behind bars? They’re being so fucking incompetent and irrational that it’s costing innocent people.” 

Spencer can see you grinding your teeth and tops your chin up, working his thumb under the hinge of your jaw to get you to unclench your teeth. 

He can’t even be upset with you, sometimes local law enforcement are your worst enemy. 

“I know, but Emily’s solving that issue. They’ll start keeping things to themselves.” 

You sigh, “We should be doing more. I don’t know what, but we have to be faster and smarter. We need to be better.” Your tone is leaning heavily on the side of self-deprecation, rough and self-critical like you’re the Unsub and not a group of women. 

Spencer crouches down, knees brushing yours as he ducks his head to catch your eyes. Melty honey brown eyes stare into yours, his mouth set in a soft line. 

“You need to breathe. I know you’re stressed and you’re worried, but you know what you’re doing. You’re great at profiling. We’re doing as much as we can right now and it has to be enough.” 

It’s hard to disregard Spencer when he speaks the words with all the confidence you’ve been lacking. When you nod a little he smiles, kissing your cheek. 

“Good, now come help me with the geoprofile.” Emily comes rushing into the room as you stand, taking the whiteboard marker into your hands. “Luke and Tara are at the freshest site now, some new evidence that might help with catching them. They’re rushing it to the labs now.” 

The knot in your shoulders ease up a little.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 6: Lighter x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6664

Warnings: Afab!reader, friends with benefits, casual sex, body worship, mirror sex, blowjob, deep throating, brief cunnilingus, piv

A/N: This guy is so cool, I really hope this doesn't end up being too ooc since he was only just introduced and we still don't know a whole lot about him. 🫣

⭐

Nights out in the desert lean towards chilly but with a raging bonfire going you almost don’t even notice it. Not until you step away from the hotly licking flames anyway, and then you find yourself burrowing deeper into your coat for insulation from the wind. If the need to find some trouble to get into hadn’t been brewing like a storm in the back of your mind you would have been perfectly content to stay right where you were for the rest of the evening until it came time for bed, but that persistent tug has you scanning through the gathered crowd for an all too familiar face. 

You spot Lucy and Caesar easily enough, though as usual they were a little hard to miss when they couldn’t seem to get along for more than five minutes at a time. Sometimes you wondered how they managed to work together at all given the obvious tensions between them but it wasn’t really your place to pry. The Sons of Calydon were good to the people who made Blazewood their home and you liked them better than some of the other biker gangs at least. Eccentricities aside, they were just fine in your book. 

Neither of them were the one you sought though, so you keep making your way around the perimeter of the crowded area. It wasn’t often that everyone gathered for a celebration like this but the Sons, true to nature, tended to liven up the place whenever they came through. One of the many services you probably owed them thanks for. 

And then you finally spot him, just when you were starting to wonder if he’d turned in for an early night. Slouched in a banged up lawn chair someone had dug out from who only knows where with a stout glass full of something dark braced on the bend of his knee. Cool and casual. Yep, that was Lighter down to the letter. 

Stuffing your hands into the pockets of your jacket, you shuffle over to come up alongside where he’s sat in a loosely formed circle with a handful of other men, no doubt shooting the shit with each other which you thoroughly interrupt with your appearance. That he’d retreated to this reclusive side of the field where the girls were less likely to impede on his very important masculine brooding with like minded individuals does not escape your notice but too bad for him. 

You were not someone Lighter could easily ignore just as you had a hard time ignoring him whenever he happened to be around, and you allow yourself a small smile when he tips his head back to look up at you through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. Still wearing them even now, when it was completely dark out and he probably couldn’t make out much of anything through them as a result. What a dork. 

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” He volleys right back, not missing a beat as he bobs his chin at you in relaxed greeting. “Good to see you. I was wondering if you’d stop by to pay me a visit tonight.” 

“Putting aside the fact that I always come see you, don’t you think it might be nice if you were the one who came to me sometimes? I’ve been standing over by the fire for a while now.”

A vaguely mischievous smile pulls at his mouth. “What, you want me to start following you around like a lovesick pup now? I seem to recall you giving me completely different instructions before.” 

“All I’m saying is some initiative might win you a few favors in the long run.” You shoot back, pinning Lighter with a playfully rueful look while you try very hard not to laugh. 

“Well, a man could always use more favors. What sort of initiative were you hoping for?” 

“Please, why would I tell you and ruin the fun of watching you try to figure it out on your own? And besides, it wouldn’t count for much if I just gave you all the answers.” 

This back and forth game with him already has you feeling eager and excited while you stand there, idly rocking on your toes in anticipation of his next move. But then he noises a brief sound of rumbling consideration before reaching out to suddenly snag your forearm with a hand gloved in leather. 

It happens much too quick for you to pull away or react beyond the giggling squeak you let out when he yanks you down across his lap. The two of you had known each other for a very long time now and these sorts of physical exchanges were common enough that no one really questioned it any more, though you’re still keenly aware of the other men that are gathered around politely turning their attention elsewhere. Breaking off into their own smaller groups, starting up their own snippets of conversation. It’s like they didn’t even see the two of you sitting there anymore, which comes as a relief while you work to get settled into place atop his legs, using a hand curved over his broad shoulder for stability. 

You and Lighter weren’t actually together, nor were you an item in any sense of the word, but you also weren’t just friends either. Everyone knew that so there wasn’t much point in hiding it. A lot of good it would have done you anyway when the communities scattered across the Outer Ring were so small and tight knit that keeping secrets often felt like an impossibility. 

So you look down into his face head on, openly grinning now as he minutely shifts underneath you to get comfortable again. He’s so firm and sturdy that it takes a great deal of self control on your part not to start kissing him right then and there. The two of you might not try all that hard to hide whatever was going on here but you still had some polite sensibilities left to your name. 

“Alright, sugar,” He intones, juggling his drink over to the opposite hand so he can casually set his arm across your lap while the other loosely curls around your hip. Just to make sure you don’t accidentally fall off, you’re sure. “I’m listening. Tell me what it is you want.”

“I’d think that should be obvious by now.” 

“You’re insatiable.”

“Only when it comes to you.” Lightly teasing a finger over one of the metal spikes on his biker jacket, you give him a pointed little smile. “Maybe if I saw you more often than every few weeks I’d get bored of it but you know how to keep a girl coming back for more, don’t you? Never give her enough to get complacent, just enough to become addicted.” 

“Hey now. That makes me sound like some kind of scheming playboy. I’m sure you know I’d give it to you every day if I could.” 

Your pussy distantly clenches at the thought, and you sit up a little straighter to subtly press down on his thigh. It was so unfair how easily he could drive you wild. Sometimes you didn’t think the playboy label was all that inaccurate, but then he’d say or do something so goofy that it completely shattered that impression of him in your mind. Despite how it looked he wasn’t actually some disloyal womanizer incapable of commitment, just someone with a lot of baggage and a long past. That’s all. 

But really, who couldn’t say the same in the Outer Ring? 

“That’s sweet but you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Lighter.” 

“It’s not for a lack of wanting, trust me.” He assures you, giving the meat of your hip a brief squeeze. “The Sons have just been busy lately. You know that. But once we win the Tour de Inferno - -“ 

“You’ll have better routes and less busy work. I’ve heard it before.” Sighing softly, you lift your hand from his shoulder to reach up and cradle a mostly smooth cheek in your palm. You could just feel the faintest hint of stubble starting to grow back after his morning shave much earlier in the day but the scratch of it registers as pleasant rather than disagreeable. “It doesn’t really matter in the end I guess. No strings attached, that was what we agreed on. I just worry about you sometimes. Even if it’s not for me, at least try to swing by more often so I can feed you. I’ll even make extra for the girls.” 

“I’m sure they’ll like that.” He murmurs, peering at you now over the top of his shades with an unwavering, plainly heated look that makes a shudder work down your spine. 

You stare into his face for another moment longer until the magnetic pull of his mouth becomes too much for you to resist, and you lean down to claim those sinfully inviting lips for yourself. Lighter readily returns the favor with a steady push and pull that only coaxes you further into your vibrating need for him, unable to reject it even if you’d wanted to. 

And you most certainly don’t want to. 

Realizing that you really can’t wait any longer to have him, you pull back just enough to speak against his mouth. “Take me home, Lighter. I want to be alone with you.” 

“If that’s what you want.” He husks, his tone dropped to a secretive but no less simmering drawl now. “Your wish is but my command, princess.”  

Bracing to stand, you ready to hop up from his lap but he manages to catch you off guard when he locks his arm around your middle and carefully eases himself out of the chair so he can rise to his feet with a rumbling groan for effect. You weren’t exactly a delicate waif but he’d picked you up far too many times for you to be surprised by his strength, and your pulse just quickens in excitement while you dangle a foot or so off the ground from his hold. 

Pausing there, Lighter lifts his glass to his mouth and tips his head back to down the whole thing in a quick gulp. You watch him do it with attentive fascination, admiring the defined line of his jaw and the thick bob of his Adam’s apple, but then he’s gently sliding you down to stand on your own and you take a reluctant step back from him. Everyone who’d come out for the bonfire didn’t need to see him carrying you off into the night like a caveman so you couldn’t argue the logic in letting you walk by yourself. But that doesn’t stop you from missing the warmth of his body pressed up against you, or the heady scent of him drowning out your sense of smell. 

Soon enough that would be rectified though, and together the two of you start to make your way back towards the gas station in companionable silence. 

It’s a quiet walk save the drone of conversation and the occasional shouts behind you, but those noises gradually fade the further you get from the gathering. Most of the locals had gone out into the nearby barren field to join the Sons of Calydon in celebrating their return trip from the transport they’d just completed, so the tiny outpost is perfectly still and peaceful when you reach it. 

Even calling it a town would have been quite the stretch when the outcrop of buildings and trailers, and decrepit mobile homes that spring up around the gas station in the center of it had only come into being out of necessity. Blazewood was at best an encampment of refugees but there were a lot of places like that left behind after the Hollow Disaster so it doesn’t look half as depressing as it probably actually is. It’s the only thing you’d ever really known with any familiarity though, and to you it’s home. 

Lighter was too much a roving nomad to have anything similar, save perhaps his band of fellow bikers, but there’s a small part of you that hopes he thinks of your tiny little motel as a kind of home too. He’d certainly been here more than enough times to be intimately familiar with the place and you by extension. 

Treading the exact same steps the two of you had walked many times before, you make your way into the back of what was at one time a supplies building. Your father had worked tirelessly to repurpose it into a place for lodgings, so that the traveling biker gangs would have somewhere to rest at night during their long hauls, and you’d naturally inherited the place from him when you were old enough. Although it had put a bit of a damper on any aspirations you’d once harbored about joining one of the gangs yourself, you’re admittedly glad for it now since it gave you some place to safely retreat to with Lighter at the end of the day. 

You certainly weren’t going to take him to your own room and fuck him on your own bed. That was one of the rules you’d established at the start of all this, more than just a few years ago now. At first it had been solely for practical reasons. Didn’t want him getting the wrong idea or, even worse, give yourself a chance to be fooled into thinking that this was somehow more meaningful than it actually was. He didn’t need to have access to your personal space like that. 

But by now it had become something of a safe neutral zone where both of you could simply let go of whatever roles and responsibilities, obligations and preconceptions you carried with you. Everyone had baggage in the Outer Rings, and neither you or Lighter were any different in that regard. 

But the good news was that both of your tastes aligned in the most delightful of ways, and as you step into your favorite room your eyes come up to look into the reflective surface of the floor length mirror hung on the wall. Between the bed and the claustrophobicbly small toilet closet there wasn’t much else in the tight space to look at. One of the bikers from the previous generation had gifted it to your father after finding it by chance in an old and abandoned warehouse. Evidently it was the only mirror that had still been in one piece after sitting forgotten for so long, and he’d carefully hauled it all the way back to Blazewood in his trailer. 

You suspected your father had at one time toyed with the notion of using this place as a brothel of sorts to make a little extra money on the side, but after you were born shortly thereafter it seemed he no longer had the heart to follow through on it. That was fine though, because this room and its mirror had still seen more than its fair share of action thanks to you and Lighter. 

The door clicks shut behind you with a sense of finality as you tread across the rough carpet and you eagerly turn to him, just in time for his hands to come up and cradle your cheeks. Firmly tilting your face up at him, he bends down to kiss you again but this time it’s not nearly as polite as it was when you’d had an audience watching. 

His mouth is hungry against yours now, matching your own need to feel him against you, on top of you, inside of you. Groaning softly, you rock forward onto the tips of your toes to better accommodate the height difference and reach up to thread your fingers through his shaggy hair. It’s soft but dry against your skin from all the wind and sand grit that naturally came with riding a motorcycle in the desert, yet you still relish the feel of it against you.

Giving it a slow tug, you tip your head to deepen the exchange and allow his tongue entry to your mouth when it prods at your lips. All at once the taste of him overwhelms your olfactory system in a potent rush made all the more intoxicating by the strong notes of whiskey you can clearly pick up on your tastebuds. You noise a quiet sound of ratcheting pleasure against his mouth while his hands descend upon your body to take greedy, squeezing grabs at whatever part of you he can reach. 

Lighter quickly loses patience for all the clothes standing between the two of you though, and he’s soon tugging at your coat to get it unzipped and tossed aside. You do the same with his leather jacket, fumbling to get it shoved back over his shoulders which he accommodates by helpfully stretching his arms down to let it fall to the floor. Then he’s right back to groping at you through your jeans, giving your ass a tight pinch before redirecting them around to your hips so he can steer you backwards. 

Still kissing his mouth with wild abandon, you let him guide you back to stand almost directly in front of the mirror where you finally manage to pry yourself from him only enough to get his t-shirt pulled up over his head. It leaves him standing there naked from the waist up, his already unruly hair more mussed than it was before, and you quickly bend your head close to flick your tongue over a pert nipple. 

Sighing a low rumble of appreciation, Lighter lifts one of his hands to briefly cradle the back of your head while the other reaches down to tug his belt loose. You know what’s coming and you just purr into his skin as you kiss over the planes of his chest to feel the faint tickle of sparse hair against your lips. Giving his bare sides an encouraging squeeze when the sound of his buckle rattling makes your cunt tighten in anticipation, you latch onto the opposite bud to offer it a taunting love bite. 

But by that time he’s got his thick jeans undone and the hand in your hair closes into a fist, using his hold on you to pull you up with a faltering sound of delight. The tug on your scalp is just sharp enough to make you really want it, stumbling a single, uncertain step before he forces you down onto your knees. You’re so hot with want and fast pumping adrenaline that you don’t even think to fight it as he directs your face to the front of his pants where he somewhat meanly grinds the stiff bulge inside across your mouth. 

Whining a needy little sound in the back of your throat, you quickly reach up to pull his pants down so you can shove your face into his underwear full on. You immediately take a deep, savory inhale to taste the distinct smell of him on the back of your tongue, feeling your slit leak sticky gossamer into your panties while you do it. Gods, he smelled heavenly. 

“Damn,” He issues a barely there groan in response, nudging his hips forward to press his cock tighter against your nose while he distractedly lifts his hands up to pull his gloves off one by one. “You’re gonna’ be the death of me at this rate, sugar. Maybe it’s for the best I can’t come see you more often. I don’t think there’d be anything left of me.” 

That brings a smile to your face as you roll your eyes upward to pin him with a sly look. He probably wasn’t wrong about that. It hadn’t taken you long to realize that most men struggled to keep pace with you but for his part Lighter certainly made the effort whenever he could. You’d likely have him completely drained within a week. 

It’s clear the powerful champion of Calydon isn’t intimidated though, and he gives his sunglasses a quick adjustment where they’d started to inch down — insisting they stay on even now, the goof — before shuffling back half a step. 

You almost catch yourself mewling a quiet sound of disappointment but then he’s bending low to hook his fingers in the hem of your top and pull it up. An impressively well practiced motion of his hand soon has your bra falling loose around your shoulders before it quickly joins everything else on the floor in a rumpled heap of all your discarded clothes. 

An intense tremble works through your body at the sensation of your bare tits cutting through the air, already stiff and seeking attention. Still bending at the waist, Lighter takes a moment to briefly cup your breasts in his calloused palms and lift them, encouraging you to arch your back to better present your chest. He hunches even closer then and gives each nipple a savory kiss to tease the sensitive flesh, eliciting another groan of pleasure from you when he moves to straighten up again. 

One of his hands is immediately back in your hair and he roughly pulls you in against him as he closes the distance, rubbing your face against his cock once again. Unable to go another moment without him in your mouth, you dig your fingers into his dark boxer briefs so you can yank them down to pool in his jeans where they were still tucked into his boots. 

The hard length of him promptly springs up into the scant space between you and just brushes the kiss swollen pucker of your mouth to leave behind a faintly sticky trail. Bracing one hand on a powerfully lean thigh, you use the other to take hold of him in a tight grip and give it a few perfunctory tugs to ease the foreskin back. You can clearly see the flushed glans glinting in the overhead light with a sheen of sticky arousal which you coquettishly lick up to get your first taste of him for the evening. 

Groaning quietly in appreciation, Lighter settles into a wide legged stances with his feet braced far apart while the hand on your head firmly guides you forward to take him in. And you do so with great enthusiasm, sliding your mouth down to about the halfway point of his shaft where the head of him starts to tickle at your throat. 

From the corner of your eye you can just make out what’s happening in the reflection of the mirror, the tall tell bob of your head while you work him over with your tongue to build up more saliva and the very noticeable way your tits shift with the motion. It makes you feel ten times hotter, squirming there on the floor at his feet while you watch yourself suck him off. As far as visuals go it was incredibly satisfying to observe in real time, which was exactly why both of you loved this room so much. You’d had to use a different one on a few occasions, when he’d shown up unexpectedly and this room was already occupied by someone else, but it was never the same. Nothing quite compared to the front row seat you had here, getting to watch him fuck you and go down on you, to see yourself spread out on his thick cock and pushed straight to the limit of your physical abilities. 

They made video recording devices in the city, or so you’d heard, and you had half a mind to try it out sometime with him just to get a different perspective. But such technology didn’t last long all the way out here when the ether corruption was so high that most anything that wasn’t analogue didn’t survive for even a whole month. The mirror had served you well up until now though, and you savoringly pull back as you turn your head to watch the shuddering string of spittle stretch between his stiff cock and your mouth before breaking apart. 

Looking into your own reflection, you’re struck by how very needy you look in that moment with eyes blown wide under the heavy droop of your lashes and flushed, kiss swollen lips coated in a sheen of saliva. Lighter knows you a little too well though, and he rumbles a masculine sound when he shifts the position of his hand to better grip your hair so he can turn your face up and around to make you look at him instead. 

“Getting distracted there, sugar?”

Feeling punchdrunk on something stronger than any drink you’d had at the bonfire, you blithely nod your head in agreement. He hadn’t really needed to ask and the way he pins you with a barely there smirk assures you he’d already known the answer. But that was how the two of you played this game no matter how overly familiar you got with each other's bodies, and yet it never seemed to truly get old. 

Neither does the way he expertly uses the fistful of hair he’s got in his hold to force your mouth back down, rudely shoving his cock past lips and teeth, and a squirming tongue so he can prod at the back of your throat. The glide of satiny flesh is smooth and nearly seamless when he sedately thrusts his hips back and forth, back and then forth again, thanks in no small part to the excess of spit forming along your palate. And you just keep drooling all the more excessively the longer he does it, coaxing your salivary glands to work overtime for him until you can feel it bubbling out to dribble down your chin.

Only then does Lighter at last shove himself forward in tortuous slow motion to slide down your gullet one sinful inch at a time. You feel the customary jump in your pulse at suddenly finding your airway blocked and the alarm of pressure pushing in on your throat but force yourself to relax into it. The eventual tickle of coarse pubic hair brushing your nose lets you know when you’ve taken it all and you gurgle a wet sound of pleasure around his length when he makes a point of grinding your face down, holding you there for a prolonged beat. 

Then he’s pulling you back, using your hair to smoothly guide your neck where he wants it to go and dislodge himself from your throat in the process. A fresh wave of copious, sticky spit comes out with him, leaving you kneeling there gasping for air as thick wads of saliva roll down your face. You blearily glance up through the reflexive moisture in your eyes while he gives you a moment to catch your breath only to suck in a rattling gasp when you see how very wrecked you look in the mirror. But he’s not quite through with your mouth just yet, and he repeats the process a handful of times more until you’re dizzily swaying at his feet from the head rush. 

You’re so delirious with it, in fact, that by the time he bends down to get on your level again you almost don’t even notice how close he suddenly is. Not until Lighter takes your wet face between his hands and angles your attention up at him. Reeling and hungry to have his mouth on yours, you eagerly rock forward to catch his lips, but he keeps you firmly in place while he presumably looks over your expression. 

It was sometimes hard to tell through those damned sunglasses. 

“Still doing good, princess?” 

“Y - yeeah …” You groan, forcing your neck to work on an unsteady bob. 

“Good.” Swooping in too quick for you to react, he presses a hard, firm kiss to your temple and then pulls away so he can carefully unwind his fingers from your hair. 

Even this late in the game you still know what he’s about to do because the two of you have done this about a hundred different times now. Same song, different dance — and yet that doesn’t stop the little squeak of excitement you give when he grabs under your arms to lift you up off the floor. Without his jacket in the way you can see all the tension running through his muscles, scarred skin bulging under the strain of your weight, but he doesn’t even falter. He’s as steady as solid iron, and just as strong too. 

Smoothly turning on his heel, Lighter tosses you onto the bed where you bounce once, twice, then his hands are on your hips to yank you back closer to the edge. Panting and breathless, you glance up at him while he stands between your legs, heavy hands working to get your jeans unfastened. His shades have slid forward on the bridge of his nose at some point in all that messing around, and he now sends you a steely look from over the top of them. 

“What did I say?” He murmurs, the fond note in his voice doing little to soften the masculine rumble behind the words. “Insatiable.” 

“Not my fault.” You purr back, grinning. “Maybe you should try being less amazing in the sheets.” 

Sending you a rueful look, Lighter grabs the top of your open pants and yanks them down your legs, knocking your shoes off in process with a dull thump on the floor. Your panties are quick to go next and, momentarily left to your own devices while he kicks off his own boots and jeans, you roll over onto your stomach so you can jut your ass up in the air. Giving it a playful, taunting wiggle, you glance back at him over your shoulder with a sly smile. 

Alright, so he wasn’t wrong. You were insatiable, but could anyone really blame you? 

Cooly watching the display from under his tousled hair, he shoots you a quick look of warning while he leans down to get his underwear pulled off. The weighty bob of his cock between his legs makes you pussy clench and you bite down on your lip as you invitingly arch your back for him. 

“Careful, sugar. You’re looking for trouble tonight.” 

“Mmm, then why don’t you come punish me?” 

He scoffs a hushed laugh at the taunt, casually stepping into the space between your dangling feet again. Both of his hands come down on your ass at the same time, the deafening crack doing more to startle a sound of surprise out of you than the starburst of pain that comes with it, but it’s quickly followed by an appreciative groan when he squeezes the cheeks pinchingly tight and spreads them open. 

You feel him lean close then and you screw your eyes shut, seething a sensitive whine through your teeth when he runs his tongue from one end of your slit straight down to the other, getting a good taste of your arousal along the way. He takes a moment to just leisurely eat you out from the back like he had all night to wind you up tighter and tighter, the firm nudge of him against your clit making your thighs judder. It doesn’t last long enough to send you over the edge though, just encouraging you a little closer to the edge of oblivion before he straightens up behind you again. 

Stretching, Lighter reaches around you then to snag one of the pillows from the headboard which he tosses down next to your head before moving to sit next to you. At his hushed coaxing, you stiffly sit up and let him pull you over into his lap where you eagerly lean into him for a kiss, soft tits pushing into the firm planes of his chest. 

He indulges you only briefly though, letting you get a good taste of yourself on his tongue before pulling back enough to speak. “Turn around for me, princess. Gonna’ make you watch while I split that little cunt in half. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Just hearing him talk like that makes every single nerve ending in your body tense up to the point of real discomfort and you shudder fiercely even as you work to get spun around, tossing your leg over his hip so you can get settled across Lighter’s stomach. But even knowing good and well how strong he is wasn’t quite enough to fully ease your concerns about sitting on top of him. It makes you carefully hold yourself so you don’t put too much of your weight on him but he’s quick to smooth his palms down your sides to take bruising hold of your hips, forcing you to sit all the way and keeping you locked right where you are. 

While he gets situated behind you, laying back on the pillow he’d grabbed, you steal a harried glance at yourself in the mirror. Somehow this part always manages to surprise you, how soft and voluptuous you look against all the hard muscle and masculine angles of his body. Tits heavy and full, your pussy shamelessly spread open for him and the rigid length of him spearing up in the air between your legs. The visual alone is enough to nearly send you into free fall, and the knowledge that he was about to stuff that thick cock inside your body … you felt like you were going to cum before he even put it in you. 

“Nnghn, Lighter … fuck!” 

He softly shushes you, jostling you slightly as he at last tightens his fingers on your hips to lift your pelvis and guide your cunt into position over him. The shift forces you to go up on your toes, hands splayed out behind you across his flexing abdominals to steady your balance. 

And you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the reflection now when he uses his braced feet on the floor to push up, sending his cock skirting along your sticky slit. You suck in a wet, faltering breath, arching your back to better angle your pussy down. He tries again, slipping and sliding through soaked fleshy lips, and the glans successfully catches at your entrance on the second attempt. 

You almost breathe a shuddering sigh of relief but then he’s pushing into you, good on his word of making you watch him split you in half. The gummy stretch of your body gradually taking him in one fraction of an inch at a time makes you feel faint from how hard your arousal spikes but you deliriously force yourself to keep watching. It’s fascinating, in a way, how his length slowly disappears inside you and demands your tight inner sleeve make room for him until he’s finally sheathed in you straight down to the base. 

Sitting there on top of him like that, cunt stuffed full and blissfully aching, you let out a low, mewling groan of satisfaction as your head starts to loll back as if in a doped out stupor. That little bit of reprieve in which he allows you to adjust is short lived though, and Lighter issues a rumbling groan of his own when he starts to move. 

The immediate heavy bounce of his ballsack excites you almost as much as the heavy jiggle of your tits does, and you cry out at the blindingly sharp bursts of ecstasy that shoot through your system each time he takes an upward jab up into your guts. You can see everything clearly in the mirror from your own pleasure stricken expression and the sweat coating your body down to the vigorous flex of muscle along his thighs. It doesn’t take long for it to start feeling overwhelming in this position though, your cunt completely defenseless and at his mercy like this, and your legs soon begin to tremble when the internal pressure steadily climbs. But the meaty slap of his pelvis driving against your ass and the accompanying wet clicks of your pussy sucking him in deep almost overwhelms any other sounds, and you nearly miss the hushed grunt of his voice when he speaks over your own desperate bleating. 

“Goddamn, you’re taking me so well, sugar … nnghnohh, yeeaah. You like that dick in your little pussy, huh? Already getting so tight for me … aghh, gonna’ cum all over this cock, aren’t you? Gonna be a good girl for me?” 

“Y - yes! I’m - I’m gonna’ — ahhghnn!”

Unable to take the relentless pounding anymore, you gingerly try to lift your lower body from the total onslaught but he just squeezes your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you firmly in place. There’s no escape from him or his cock, and you shudderingly squirm on top of him as your cresting pleasure just continues to climb higher and higher. It was like he was specifically made to fit you, each little ridge and veiny bump along his shaft perfectly stoking the blaze inside your body until it felt like you were going to combust. 

Still, it wasn’t quite enough to tip you over the edge though, and you precariously hang there in the balance, sobbing in pleasure, until he at last slides one of his hands inward to direct the blocky fingers towards your slit. You can see his intention clearly in the mirror's reflection but with your own hands braced behind you there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Gently at first, then more vigorously, Lighter rubs over your clit with a steady motion that quickly has you teetering over into the awaiting abyss below. 

And for a split second you get to watch yourself cum, get to see the way your whole body seizes up and uncontrollably shakes, how your expression twists in deeply felt relief, before it becomes too much to bear. Your eyes screw shut as you wildly jerk through your orgasm, wailing up at the ceiling while he just continues to pet you and fuck his cock into your pulsing cunt to drag it out. 

You briefly think you might actually die there like that, stretched out on him with your heart jackhammering such a violent rhythm it seems a small wonder you don’t kick the bucket, but at last you finally start to come down from it one fragmented piece of you at a time. It’s a process to refit the pieces back together again but when you finally manage to stir from your semi comatose state, you find Lighter still slowly thrusting into your fluttering cunt to milk every lost drop out of your release. 

At the deeply ruffled, frazzled sound you let out, he seems to realize you’re starting to recover and he seamlessly flips you over onto your stomach with a well practiced twist. Stretching out over top of you to pin your heaving body down, he finds your numb hands with his own so he can direct them high up on the bed and leave you prone underneath him. 

“Well, princess,” He murmurs right into your ear to make you whine a muffled groan into the sheets. “It looks to me like you might’ve finally bitten off a bit more than you can chew. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so tame. Still want more?” 

You quickly nod your head, trying in vain to arch your ass up into him, but it was impossible when his sturdy weight was settled on top of you like that and all you end up doing is restlessly squirming under him. It doesn’t matter though and it doesn’t stop you from trying. That was perhaps the best orgasm you’d ever had and you were still hungry for more. Voracious, even. 

“Yes, yes, yes — please, Lighter, please. Give me more.”

Softly clicking his tongue, he presses his mouth against the side of your head in another hard, toe curling kiss before pulling back enough to rumble a tender, “Insatiable brat.” 

And you really can’t argue against it.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[captain-barnes-writes]

What is soft launch? (Carlos Sainz)

Part three

Summary: Max Verstappen’s ex girlfriend moves on with none other than Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz and they’ve managed to keep their relationship under wraps until now. Part one | part two |

Face claim: Cindy Kimberly

Type: insta au

Pair: Carlos Sainz x reader x ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: this is all over the place, fluffy Carlos, Lando Norris all up in the comments lol, salty max

————————

YourUsername posted a story

Replies

Username shots fired!

Username the pettiness is real🫢

Yourbff and he always remembers not to cheat!

YourUsername: girl stop 😭😭 you know what I’m gonna delete this

Yourbff 🔪

DanielRicciardo Carlos might as well have bought the whole flower shop lmao

YourUsername don’t give him any ideas 🫣

LandoNorris this will cause more drama with Max😑

YourUsername he started it, he should’ve never posted that story in the first place!

LandoNorris I know, I scolded him for it trust me

CarlosSainz55 anything for you princesa

YourUsername 🥰♥️

MaxVerstappen1 I’m sorry

YourUsername just let me move on in peace

MaxVerstappen1 I just don’t know why it had to be Carlos

YourUsername we fell in love, simple as that.

YourUsername deleted their story

———

20,890 likes

F1Wags Carlos Sainz and Y/N arriving at the paddock for the Barcelona Grand Prix. This is the first time the couple are seen in public after recently confirming their relationship (after secretly dating for one year). I wonder how this will go down after Max’s insta story a few days about Y/N caused some drama.

Comments

Username honestly I ship it

Username same 😶

Username I can’t believe she’s back 🥹

Username max and y/n are still my one true pair

Username he definitely cheated, that’s not an OTP😑

Username those were just rumors

Username I smell even more drama just wait on it

Username I still can’t believe Max posted that story about her as though he doesn’t have his own family now🤡

Username True. I actually feel bad for Kelly after that

Username maybe he realized the grass wasn’t greener on the other side 🤐

Username 2 years too late for that

———

18,675 likes

F1world Carlos Sainz and Max Verstappen were spotted having, what seems, a serious conversation ahead of the Barcelona Grand Prix. This comes after Carlos and Max’s ex-girlfriend, Y/N, confirmed they’ve been in a relationship for the last year. Max had an outburst and posted a story of Y/N holding flowers reminiscing on their relationship which he deleted after a few minutes. The drivers seemed annoyed and Carlos at some point walked away from the Red Bull driver.

Comments

Username i knew there’d be drama 😭

Username I hope they can get past it seeing they have to see each other all the time

Username same here

Username shouldn’t be dating his mate’s ex then

Username oh to be Y/N and have two drivers fight over her 😮‍💨

Username She has the grid rizz 😏

Username she’s immaculate

Username tbh she had most drivers on a chokehold ever since she was with Max👀

Username they’re all in her likes and comments a lot of the time 🫢

Username this is Max’s karma

Username ^^ yes

———

Liked by YourUsername, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 Podium today, so many good things to celebrate 🙌

Comments

YourUsername proud of you baby!😮‍💨

CarlosSainz55 we’re celebrating tonight princesa 😘

LandoNorris keep it pg Carlos 😑 there’s kids here

CarlosSainz55 yeah, you!

LandoNorris 🤬

ScuderiaFerrari that’s our boy!

Username the way he included Y/N in his post too🥹

Username he’s simping hard

Username I wonder what max and him talked about

Username it didn’t look good🫢

Username definitely about y/n

Username she looks better with you than she ever did with max 🤤

Comment liked by CarlosSainz55

Username not carlos liking my comment lmao

———

Liked by CarlosSainz55, MaxVerstappen1, LewisHamilton and others

YourUsername Red for Ferrari ❤️‍🔥

Comments

ScuderiaFerrari Red looks good on you!

CarlosSainz55 I agree ❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 more like red for me

YourUsername 😏

GigiHadid beautiful!

LewisHamilton so great seeing you again!

Charlottesiine ❤️❤️

Username she’s in love love

Username ok but what is Max doing here?

Username he doesn’t even follow her but is all in her likes all of a sudden?

Username apparently it’s a problem if she moves on but he moved on within a second lmao 🧐

Username someone take Max’s phone away!

Username he’s probably crying in the shower rn

Username red suits you so much better than blue ever did queen

YourUsername 😝🫣

———

15,870 likes

F1Wags There’s reports that Kelly and Max are taking some time apart after some drama-filled days following Max posting about his ex-girlfriend,Y/N, after she confirmed her relationship with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz. Kelly was also pictured taking a solo flight to seemingly clear her mind and figure out the sudden halt of her 2-year relationship.

Comments

Username I called it!

Username it’d be hard to stay with someone who’s still clearly in love with their ex

Username you lose em how you get ‘em 🫢

Username poor Y/N can’t even move on in peace

Username she doesn’t seem to care tbh she’s down bad for Carlos lol

Username as she should 😏

Username lowkey feel bad for her

Username He should’ve fought for Y/N years ago, not now when he has his own little family

Username agreed! 😵‍💫

Username 20 sec penalty for ocon

Username 🤔

———

Liked by LandoNorris, CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly and others

YourUsername we’re good over here 😌 (that last one is for you guys, you’re welcome)

Comments

LandoNorris that last one was unnecessary 😒

YourUsername I disagree😋💋

LandoNorris 🤢

CharlesLeclerc I agree with Lando

YourBff is it simping hours??

YourUsername always 😶

ScuderiaFerrari giving the people what they want 👏

CarlosSainz55 😘

Username everybody just kind of overlooking the sassy caption 🤣

Username oh we noticed lol

Username my new favorite couple ❤️

Username queen keep giving us Carlos content

YourUsername 🫡🫡

———

Liked by YourUsername, LewisHamilton, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 what she said 🤤

Comments on this post have been limited

YourUsername I love us🤤❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 ❤️‍🔥

LewisHamilton beautiful couple!

YourUsername🫶🫶

LandoNorris third picture was unnecessary too

YourUsername 😐

DanielRicciardo the last pic on her post left me blind

CarlosSainz55 then how’d you type this?

DanielRicciardo 🫣

MaxVerstappen1 blocked CarlosSainz55 and YourUsername

———

Posting so late!

This is all over the place lmao but as always I enjoy making these social media au 🤭

[silaslich]

May I make a request for a sequel to "In A Grave so we feel safe"? Something about it scratches an itch in my brain just right. Idk why, I think I just like it when you make 'im mean. 🫣🫣

Our skin starts to rot

Simon “Ghost” Riley x afab!reader

Summary - following from this. Simon hangs around despite the way he treats you like he can’t stand you. The feeling is mutual- to a point.

Wc - 3.8k

Cw - 18+, MDNI, GHOST IS NOT NICE, reader also is not nice, vomiting/purging, referenced/implied drug+alcohol abuse, coercive behaviour, mention of past trauma, smut, fingering, oral (r!receiving), kinda better dynamic toward the end but not really

Your fingernails scrape harshly over the roof of your mouth, and when you look into the bowl of the toilet- you see red.

You gather what’s left of the bile and blood in your mouth with your tongue and spit. Wanting rid of it. Needing to be rid of every last bit of it. All the shame and the guilt and the anxiety, it’s all churned up in your stomach, bought back up with whatever you’d managed to eat last night. Tears sting your eyes from the force and effort of purging, your spine bowed as you grip the white porcelain. Everything hurts. Your body aches. There’s a headache that is pounding like a drum behind your eyes.

The weight of his stare falls over you and so does the shame. You hear him sneer.

“You’re not pregnant are you?” He doesn’t sound as concerned as he should be considering the subject of his question.

There’s a broken laugh that’s hiccuped from your lungs as you wipe your nose with the back of your hand.

“Would it matter to you if I was?” There isn’t anything he can say to make this okay, you’d be happier if he didn’t answer at all. It doesn’t even take him a second to think.

“No” it’s clipped. There’s no emotion there.

You nod to yourself but you don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. There never is. Holding a conversation with him is futile. It’s a waste of fucking breath.

He moves away, you can tell by the sound of his feet scuffing across the floor. Finally- you’re left alone. Allowed out of his sight. Not because he’s concerned, or because he cares. It’s because he wants the control. He knows that you like your own space. He knows that you don’t appreciate it when he lurks over you like a shadow. That’s exactly why he does it. It’s a tactic, like everything else he does, it’s calculated. He’s smarter than he looks- you’ll give him that.

He’s smart enough to know that, no, you aren’t pregnant. And there’s a very low chance of you being able to fall pregnant. You’ve had an IUD placed for as long as you’ve known him. He’s questioned you enough times about it before. Pinching the device under your skin, smirking when you wince at the pain. He’s asking to embarrass you, begging you to ask the question of what would happen between the two of you if you were in-fact pregnant with his child. He wants you to know that he wouldn’t change. That it wouldn’t make him step up or start to think about his actions.

He’s exhausting to be around, frankly, it’s a living nightmare. You thought you’d miss him. After Price had sent you packing there was a tiny part of you that really thought that you’d miss having Simon near. He’s different here than he used to be back on base or out of country. Maybe that’s because he had the others there, perhaps he didn’t want to let his true colours show for all to see. He clearly thinks very little of you, that and your opinion of him. He couldn’t care less about how you see him, how you perceive him. That does sting, just a little bit.

The water cools your skin as you wash your face, scrubbing the sleep from your eyes and brushing your teeth until your gums feel sore. This is the routine now. When he’s here at least, walking on eggshells in your own home, pretending that he doesn’t bother you as much as he does. You’re lying to yourself, and doesn’t he know it.

You emerge from your bathroom and tread back to your room to get ready for work. In the few months since he’d come crashing back into your life you’d managed to get somewhat of a hold on it again. It’s rubbish money and the hours are even worse but it helps in its own ways. You’re back to some sort of normalcy, outside of Simon and his whole existence within your life. It’s good, you hate to admit, your colleagues are nice enough and the job itself isn’t hard at all. It’s stable. It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Stacking tins and organising pasta on shelves hadn’t been a career aspiration of yours- but you’re alive.

The need for relief is better managed, if you can say that. It’s not always pretty. Some nights are better than others. Your drinking is controllable and the painkillers no longer have a death-like grip on your mind and needs. Sometimes it’s hard to stay afloat, to resist the urge to drink yourself to the point you can’t stand upright or crush tablets between your teeth and rub them into your gums with your tongue. It’s a slippery slope. You can only climb so high before a strong enough wind blows you back down, but growth is growth in your eyes. There’s a noticeable pattern too, it’s always worse when he’s around. He hardly helps the issue. He raids your cupboards and empties your work bag onto the floor every night to make sure you don’t have anything he deems as contraband. As if you’re a child.

The ironic thing is, that he wouldn’t care if it killed you, not really. Not deep down. It might inconvenience him, sure, but it wouldn’t affect him in his daily life. He’d move on to the next unfortunate soul. Hell, you’re probably not the only one he’s seeing, he’s probably already got someone else on the back burner for when you do eventually fuck your liver to the point of no return. It wouldn’t surprise you at all. Not from him.

You get ready and dress for work and head to the hallway that leads to the front door to grab your bag, you’ll sort lunch out at work, because you can hear him in the kitchen. It’s as your key slides into the lock that you hear him still in whatever he’s doing, you bite your tongue.

“I’m off to work” your voice sounds so foreign in your own ears.

There’s a few seconds of drawn out silence and you take that as your cue to leave. Then his voice cuts in again-

“Come ‘ere” it’s rough from his throat. Not yet warmed up since he’d awoken.

You grip the door handle, you could walk out so easily, pretend you haven’t heard him, but it’s hardly worth the aggravation. You leave your key abandoned in the lock and turn to make your way through the living room and toward the kitchen. It’s there that you find him leaning his hip against the counter, a mug of coffee steaming away in his hand, he’s looking right at you as you enter the space.

“Everything okay?” You ask, a brow raised. You’ll be late if he isn’t quick with whatever he wants. He raises a brow back at you.

“I said come ‘ere” he tilts his chin, eyeing up the space directly in front of him.

You blink long and hard to hide the way your eyes want to roll in your skull. You’ll definitely be late at this rate. You do as he wants, nevertheless, stepping right up to him and stopping when you feel the steam from his coffee under your nose. Practically black, as he always has it, barely a drop of milk and no sugar. He’s looking at you in that way that always manages to make you feel so small. Not physically, because that’s already a given. But small in the way that he sees you as inferior to him in every single way. You likely are, but he doesn’t have to make it so obvious to you.

“What is it?” Your temper shortens, just slightly.

His eyes narrow, he notices the shift. His free hand lifts to the side of your face, running a rough thumb over the apple of your cheek, it’s a tender gesture. On the surface level.

“Come and see Price” his voice has softened, just that little bit, the way it does when he wants you to do something he knows you won’t want to.

He wants you to believe he’s on your side. It’s immediate the way you shake your head, he hadn’t even finished speaking.

“Simon- we’ve already talked about this” your patience is thinned to almost nothing. He could have said something earlier, long before you’re walking out the door to catch the next bus.

“Yeah, and you’re not seeing it from my perspective” he eyes you from over his nose, again, making you feel small. There’s a sour taste at the back of your throat.

“When do you ever try to see things from my perspective?” You raise your chin, if he wants an argument over this, you worry he’ll get what he’s after.

He brings his mug to his lips, staring at you from over the lip of it.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever stooped low enough to see things from your point of view, sweetheart” you can’t see his lips but you’re convinced you’d see a smirk there if you could. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I find that very hard to believe” you know little of Simon’s past, but you know enough to know that he is indeed lying. It’s another tactic, another way to get under your skin and piss you off. For his own pure enjoyment.

“Yeah? Try me” he lowers his mug and places it on the counter. His full attention on you. He folds his arms over his bare chest, his tattoos right in your line of sight.

There’s only so low that you’re willing to go, but whatever you say- you know that Simon will have something worse to say about you. That’s just a given with him.

“No no you’re right” you wave him off, stepping out of his space and turning to face the windows across the living room.

A beat of silence.

“Tommy was the druggie, right? Not you”

It’s audible, the way his jaw clicks. You don’t move.

“That’s right” his voice is flat, but you know him well enough to know that he’s annoyed, pissed beyond belief. Maybe not at what you’ve said, but that you’ve dared to say anything at all.

“Means I know a lost cause when I see one” you hear his body shift, the way his right shoulder clicks. Adjusting his stance.

You nod, silently. That’s his perception of you. It hardly rings true, a few months ago? Maybe. Now? You give yourself enough credit to know that you’re doing the right thing. Keeping this job. Not crawling back to Price. It settles the nagging feeling in your chest. You’re trying, at least. Making an effort.

“Why are you still here?” Still- you don’t turn to face him.

You keep your eyes glued to the way the world ticks by outside the window, there’s satisfaction in knowing he can’t see just how unbothered you are at his words. Before, you would have given him what he wanted and cried. Would have screamed and shouted in his face. An accusing finger pressed into his chest. You’d spat at him, once. Then he’d grab you and pull you close, pressing your snotty tear-stained face into the flesh of his chest and make a spectacle of soothing you. Telling you how he forgives you, how he knows it’s the booze and drugs talking- not you. He’d say that you’ll feel better in the morning and tug you into bed or towards the nearest waist-level surface and fuck you raw and slow and everlasting until you’re a puddle of nothing. Dumb and boneless- everything he already believes you to be.

He makes a noise. One that if it were translated into English, it would sound like ‘what the fuck are you on about?’

“I asked you why you’re here”

“Yeah, I heard you” his tone stiffens, it’s clear he doesn’t have an answer for you, therefore- he won’t answer.

There’s a few moments where the silence tells. There’s the sound of a car horn blaring outside and the birds that live in the gutter above your window chirp and sing, it’s the way life just keeps humming away- despite everything. Despite it all.

Simon moves and you stay stood still. You turn your head, watching out the corner of your eye as he walks toward you, he doesn’t look you in the eye. Instead looking out of the window as you had been. You follow his line of sight, watching the same cyclist ride past as he does.

“You treat me like shit y’know” you don’t know why you’ve said it. The thought had just been there, at the front of your mind and the tip of your tongue.

He turns his head, just slightly, to look at you. You feel his eyes- they burn.

“I treat everyone like shit” he returns his gaze to the glass, hands slid into the pockets of his trackie bottoms.

You laugh. It breezes past your lips so easily, so freely. You turn your gaze to him, noticing the way his jaw hardens when you do.

“No you don’t” you don’t take your eyes away from his face. You can’t.

For a moment you remember who he is- what he is. And in that moment you find yourself feeling sorry for him. Maybe he deserves more credit, because he could treat you a lot worse, realistically. It’s the one thing you tell yourself when he’s around, that he could be so much worse. It’s not a defence, no, it’s a lifeline. He’s suffered as you have and maybe that’s why you let him treat you the way he does, because that’s what you think you’re worth. Rough hands and sharp words and glaring eyes. It rolls off your back better these days, it’s easier to shrug off.

Simon hums, he’s caught out and he knows it.

“No- no I don’t” he rolls his shoulders until the right one cracks- again.

You bite the tip of your tongue. There’s so much you need to say to him and it’s never the right time or circumstance. You walk on eggshells around him because you can’t deal with the consequences of his temper and his irrationality. For someone who commands a platoon and leads so naturally, he’s the most pig-headed man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t want to hear your opinion or listen to you explain your point, even if he knows you’re right and he’s wrong.

“Why are you really here?” You’re still looking at him and your chest squeezes when he casts his eyes to the side, barely eyeing you. You’ve always loved his eyes.

They soften, if only slightly, it shows he’s considering the question. That he might not shrug it off like he does everything else.

“I don’t know” Simon’s voice carries that lilt to it, the one that reminds you of the man you’d first welcomed into your home- into your bed. Soft voice and attentive hands. Like he could actually stand being near you.

For a few seconds, it’s as if the world outside stops. The birds aren’t chirping and the traffic has cleared. Even the breeze stills, there’s nothing but the sounds of the both of you breathing. Out of sync. Always.

There’s a weight that dislodges from your chest. You didn’t realise you’d been carrying it for so long. Ultimately burdened by it. You haven’t got any answers, none that would clear away the ache in your heart when he looks at you in that knowing way. But somehow, there’s a satisfaction to knowing that he’s as lost as you are, the same way that you don’t understand why you let him stay- he doesn’t know why he stays either.

He stiffens slightly when he feels you at his side. Head and left shoulder pressed into his ribs and arm respectively. He quickly slackens his muscles, leaning into you slightly.

“We’re as bad as each other” the words are a little incoherent, your cheek smushed against his arm.

You’re not bothered if he hears it or not at this point. It wouldn’t matter. You only know he’s heard you by the way he sighs, craning his neck to lean the side of his head against the top of yours.

“I’m afraid I’m worse” he says it matter-of-factly. It’s the truth, to him.

“Much worse” his voice dies away, slightly. Not as though he’s embarrassed by the words, but perhaps because he knows you’re acutely aware.

You’re fully aware that he’s worse than you, in every sense of the fucking word. You’ve been sugar coating things, telling him what he wants to hear instead of what he needs to hear. He can appreciate that to a point. But he doesn’t need it. He doesn’t need the softness. That sentiment had been beaten out of him long ago, long before the Army sank its claws into him too. He knows what’s right and what’s wrong, it’s as if he doesn’t have the ability to physically stop himself from doing and saying things he doesn’t mean. In a military setting he can be loud and brash and rude; it’s his job. He spends his days as someone else’s superior, telling them when they can and can’t piss, telling them where and when they will die- essentially.

It’s hard for him to kick that habit when he’s out of that setting. When lives aren’t on the line. Yet, you’re right; he doesn’t treat Price or Gaz or Johnny that way. He can’t explain why, and that’s worse than if he could. He’s just a bad person, that’s what it ultimately boils down to at the end of the day.

It’s all he can think of as he takes you by the hand, watching your wide eyes watch him; pushing you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the sofa. Somehow, it’s different, for reasons he can’t think of. Simon Riley has never been a religious man-

Is this what repenting feels like?

He handles you differently, in his own way. The way he thinks he knows how. When he removes your clothes he’s no longer chasing something, that deep-dark spot in his vision that blurs his rationality is gone.

It’s too late for redemption- to prove that he can be something he’s not; because he can’t. He’d be lying and you know that, so you won’t ask that of him, you wouldn’t expect it either.

He holds your gaze as he presses his lips to the mound of your pussy. He watches how your chest heaves, sucking in air through your mouth, like a deer in headlights. This is so foreign from him, the tenderness, the gentleness of his hands and his mouth. No gnashing teeth or bruising fingers. There’s only featherlight touches- to begin with.

Simon warms you up the way he should. Sliding his tongue through the lips of your pussy, gathering the wetness he finds already there- he hasn’t even started with you yet, not really. There’s a slight smile that creeps up the side of his mouth at that. You tell him how much you hate him, but he has this effect on you; that in itself calls your bluff.

He listens to the way your breath stutters, feeling the way your hips cant into the wait of his mouth when he slows down or stops completely. Your juices are smeared across his lips and down his chin, he rubs his face into your pussy, slathering himself in your wetness. He wants to smell you on his skin tomorrow when he leaves, because he will leave, if you really want him to.

“Oh- oh fuck” he plucks these sounds out of you so easily.

He curls two thick fingers into the tightness of your cunt, reeling at how easy your pussy sucks him in. So needy. So eager for anything he’ll give. He watches his digits disappear, barely wanting to take his eyes off of yours but needing to visualise the feeling of your tight hole sucking him in, clamping like a vice around his fingers as he fucks them deeper inside of you.

“There?” He asks, curling his fingers, watching you nod your head wildly.

“So wet f’me” his voice drags, drunk on your pussy.

It’s like electricity hits his bones when he presses his mouth to you again, lapping at your clit while he continues to pump his fingers into you. Matching rhythm. Swirling his tongue, beckoning you with the wet muscle in his mouth, luring you to the edge. When you curl your fingers into the length of hair at the top of his head, that’s when he’s really spurred on. Letting you rub your pussy all over his face, burying his nose in the mound of flesh there, nipping teeth when you get too bold for his liking- because he’s still in charge here.

“Soo desperate” he tries to be cruel with his tone but it goes right over your head.

He feels the way your walls clamp around his fingers. The way your breathing grows ragged, sloppy thrusts of your hips against his mouth and tongue, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge as Simon fights to pull you there.

“Oh- a-a fuck Si” you’re a stuttering mess. “M’close-”

You’re practically gushing when you cum. He laps at you like he hasn’t before, listening to cries of his own name that bounce off the walls. The sounds of your pussy oozing against his mouth make his cock leak in his boxers. Hard and untouched. He stutters his hips, seeking any kind of friction.

There isn’t any; but watching and feeling you squirm under him like this is a new found thing. He’s had you on your back more times than he can think to count. Yet, none have felt like this- not even in the early days when things were right between the two of you.

Maybe it’s because things have indeed shifted, that maybe you’ve solidified your belief that you deserve better - that this might be it for him.

Even when you almost pull his hair from the roots, riding his nose as he rides you through your orgasm. Your spine arching off the sofa cushion, needing more despite the fact that he’s given you everything.

“Oh -Simon” it’s hissed through your teeth. He’s doing too much now, clamping his fingers into your thighs, not wanting to let go.

It’s the greediness in him. He wants too much of everything, he has no control. There isn’t that little voice in his head that tells him he’s had enough, that he’s done enough. Not that he would listen to it.

He finally lets up, leaning back on his heels, still knelt between your thighs. Eyes watching yours, you’re staring up at the ceiling. Eyes hooded, lips agape, breath ragged- he can’t help but think you look beautiful.

So why has he never said it before?

He leans his cheek against your thigh, eyes still watching your face, then you feel them- feel his gaze. Your eyes snap to his and for a moment, you look remorseful. Then you open your mouth to speak-

“We’re still not friends”

[hard-core-super-star]

Hi rubix, love your writing btw!! so would I be able to request a wandanat x reader fic where it’s readers birthday and they don’t usually have time or people to celebrate with so Wanda and Nat decide to change that for this year and whisk her away to somewhere like Paris to celebrate and have a great time with some smut at the end 🫣

It’s my birthday in a few days and I’m in dire need of this 🤧

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

warnings: smut -> minors, you know the drill, bye [threesome; smut so soft it borders on spicy fluff; like...one inch of plot; grinding; fingering [R receiving]; the daddy and mommy kink is implied but not explicit lmao; wanda's low-key a brat because...yeah :) ; clothed sex AGAIN because i think it's neat, okay?; cheesy ending...again]

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: hi, lovely anon, thank you for the kind words! i hope i'm not too late with this but either way, i hope you had a fantastic birthday! also, you get the honor of having requested my first ever wandanat fic so that's cool. this was my first time properly sitting down and writing for them so let me know what you think! i really hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“Guess what.”

You look up from the book in your hands to find two pairs of expectant eyes on you. You’ve seen your girlfriends wear many faces since you met them and yet it never fails to surprise you when you catch a glimpse of the genuine joy they wear around you.

The one that makes your heart skip several beats and earns them both teasing comments from the rest of the team.

“What?” You ask as your eyes flicker back and forth between them and the proud grins on their faces.

Wanda playfully rolls her eyes at you. “That’s not how the game works, detka.”

“Come on, go easy on her,” Natasha comes to your aid for once, a subtle hint that even she must be excited about whatever news they’re hiding.

“Yeah, what Nat said.”

You and the redhead share a look that draws a soft chuckle out of your girlfriend. “Remind me how I’m the one who spoils y/n again?”

“Can you stop stalling and tell me what you’re hiding already?” 

Your question earns both a glare and a laugh before you’re finally given the answer you’ve been searching for. Your girlfriends may love you more than anything else in the world but that will never stop them from teasing you like their life depends on it.

“So impatient…yes, fine, we convinced Tony to let us borrow one of his stupidly fast jets for tomorrow.”

Two pairs of green eyes watch your reaction expectantly only to find your face twisting into confusion. “Why?”

There’s a beat of silence where they both stare at each other, silently trying to figure out how to proceed. Clearly, they weren’t expecting you to question the exciting news they had brought to you.

It happens in a flash.

One second you’re sitting alone in bed and the next, your girlfriends are on either side of you, contradicting touches landing on your arms. It’s strange how easy it is to tell them apart. How cautious Natasha’s fingers still are when they trace random patterns onto your skin compared to Wanda’s gentle pressure as trails down to grab onto your hand, unmistakable tendrils of red magic moving to put your forgotten book back onto the shelf.

Natatsha’s the first to break the silence, all her earlier playfulness gone and replaced by subtle concern. “y/n, it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“So?” You shrug. “It’s just another day.”

Wanda tightens her grip on your hand and successfully steals back your attention. “Nonsense, malyshka. You deserve to be celebrated.”

“Guys, it’s not a big deal,” you assure them. “I really don’t need anything. Plus, I have too many things to do.”

“Not anymore.” A sweet kiss is placed on your lips before you can voice your complaints. “We’re stealing you away tomorrow.”   

“But what about-”

“Already talked to Steve.”

“And-”

“Kate will understand.”

“How-”

“Stop looking for excuses, detka.” Natasha rolls her eyes as she pulls you closer to her. “You’re coming with us.”

You want to argue, you truly do, but then Wanda’s gluing herself to your side, eager hands slipping under your shirt, and you quickly come to the conclusion that spending all day with them is the best way to spend any day. 

Including a birthday.

Especially since you’re more than used to treating it like every other day of the year. It’s not that you don’t like celebrating it, you’re just always too busy to make real plans and no one’s ever thought to surprise you before.

But of course, your girlfriends aren’t like anyone else.

Which is how they manage to get you onto one of Tony’s jets, reminding you of the existence of time zones and how you have to leave right now if you want to make it to your surprise destination on time. You don’t really mind either way but you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen them this excited about something in a while so you go along with them anyway.

The jet ride seems never-ending despite how fast the aircraft is supposed to be. It doesn’t help that you’ve been having trouble sleeping peacefully the past few nights and Wanda’s running a hand through your hair in the way that makes you melt.

“You’re allowed to go to sleep, you know?” Natasha whispers with a teasing smirk. “We still have a long while to go.”

“Whose idea was this again?” You grumble as you drop your head down onto the redhead’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be a brat, love. You’ll thank us when we get there.”

You bite back the rest of your complaints and sink into the sweet arms of a dreamless sleep. You miss the way your girlfriends watch over you the entire time as well as the long list of things they each want to see and the various ridiculous ways in which they propose to get everything done.

They ultimately agree to let you choose once you’re awake again…something that backfires when the jet finally lands and you’re still far off in dreamland. They go back and forth on whether they should wake you or not, especially since it’s morning where you've landed and the jetlag will definitely destroy you.

You look far too cute to rouse though so Natasha gathers you up into her arms with ease and carries you in her strong embrace the rest of the way.

When you finally do wake up, a few hours have passed and you're safe inside the lavish hotel room Wanda reserved using one of Tony’s endless credit cards. The change in scenery startles your drowsy mind before you feel familiar arms pulling you close.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Wanda says softly as she easily pulls you onto her lap.

“Hi,” you mumble, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Hi, darling. How's the birthday girl feeling? Still sleepy?”

“A little.” You let out a soft sigh as your girlfriend’s hands travel inside your loose shirt, slender fingers tracing random shapes onto your warm skin. “I’m sorry I ruined the trip.”

She scoffs and the sound instantly reminds you of Natasha which pulls a small smile onto your face. “You didn't ruin anything, detka. It's your birthday.”

You don't say anything in response and your girlfriend is quick to pull your thoughts away from their current trajectory. She keeps exploring your waist with one hand while the other one comes up to playfully tug on your hair.

“How about you stop hiding and look at your surprise, hm?”

It’s unclear whether it’s her words or her grip on your hair that makes you obey but neither of you mind. You reluctantly lift your face from its hiding place and let the green-eyed woman guide your gaze toward the large window of the room.

You gasp the second you realize where you are. “You guys brought me to Paris!”

Your excitement manages to break through your exhaustion which earns you a laugh from your loving witch. “Only the best for our girl.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little.”

You turn your head at the sound of Natasha’s voice, eager hands reaching out for her instantly. Your silent request is instantly fulfilled and the redhead easily slips into bed next to Wanda.

“I can't believe you would do this for me.”

“Believe it, malyshka.” She leans forward and easily captures your lips with her own.

Wanda huffs as she’s left out of the moment, her hands wandering under your shirt once again. You're too lost in the kiss to notice where her fingers are going until they brush against your nipples.

The sensation makes you jump which makes you grind against the witch’s thigh in a way that leaves you gasping for air. 

“That’s cheating,” Natasha warns after she pulls away from you. 

“What happened to spoiling the birthday girl?”

This time, you're the one who gets left out of the moment as they fight for the control that always rests in the Russian’s hands. They get caught up in their knowing stares and bruising kisses, leaving you aching and panting for their attention.

It’s a game they love playing with you but you’re far too desperate already to last much longer without their hands on you. 

Thankfully, Wanda decides to take pity on you. She gives your hardened nipples a soft tug, smirking against Natasha’s lips when she feels your hips buck once more. “I think someone’s feeling a little needy.”

The redhead turns to look at you, a perfectly raised eyebrow painting her face with the stern humor you've come to know so well. “Is that right, kotenok? Are you feeling needy?” 

You nod, all the heat in your body rushing down from your face to between your thighs. “Please don’t tease.”

“Aw, look at that, Nat. You're not going to deny her when she looks like that, are you?” You're not sure if Wanda’s actually being genuine or not but you don't really care as long as she’ll help you get what you want.

“Who’s the brat now?” She chuckles before reaching out for you, pulling you onto her lap, and leaving behind a pouty Wanda. “Come here, let me give you what you want.”

The Russian is true to her words and wastes no time in sliding a hand past the waistband of both your pants and your underwear. Your complaints about the lack of sink-on-skin contact between you are forgotten as Wanda situates herself behind you, plump lips trailing feather-light kisses up your neck. 

A gasp tumbles out of your lips once Natasha’s fingers finally find your drenched cunt. She moves slowly, almost too slowly, but you already know she’ll be quick to remind you to be patient if you dare whine.  

“You don’t have to be so cautious, detka,” Wanda whispers against your flushed skin. “It’s your birthday, remember?”

“Don’t listen to her, it’s always so much better for you when you’re a good girl.” She easily slips two fingers into your waiting hole, barely holding back a laugh as your pussy swallows her digits.   

Your hands grip her shoulders for stability while they both work in tandem to make you lose the last bits of control you still have over yourself. 

The witch’s hands find their way under your shirt yet again except this time she’s gripping your hips and helping you move in time with the redhead’s movements. It’s the slowest, most agonizing, of dances and yet the pleasure has you arching your back in seconds.

“Look at you,” Natasha coos, taking a mental picture of how delicious you look writhing in Wanda’s arms. “You’re so pretty when you’re like this, malyshka.”

Your walls clench the second you hear the affectionate petname and the Russian can’t resist the urge to lean forward and attach herself to your neck. Her thrusts are still slow and steady but then finally, her thumb begins to circle your puffy clit.

Your head falls back against Wanda’s shoulder and she laughs as you practically go limp from the pleasure. “You’re gonna break her, ‘Tasha.”

“She likes it.” She punctuates her point by curling her fingers just right and pulling out a string of moans from deep within you. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Mhmm, please don’t stop.”

They share a look you don’t see but you do feel the evidence of yet another standoff. It’s like Wanda just can’t stop herself from pressing all of Natasha’s buttons when they’re like this. Which means it’s your job as their devoted girlfriend to let them turn your pleasure into a competition.

And they do just that.

Wanda’s grip on your hips tightens until her nails are digging into your skin and she’s practically forcing you to ride Natasha’s fingers. Natasha, for her part, increases the speed of her thrusts, launching you closer and closer toward your orgasm. She’s still drawing it out of you, though,  still balancing speed with soft kisses and murmured praises.

It’s a strange combination but it works perfectly. Just like your relationship with them. It’s something that transcends words, something that can’t be explained, merely felt…and it’s also exactly what brings you to the edge.

“Nat…please…”

“Please, what, detka?” Wanda responds for your girlfriend.

“Can I cum? Please?”

You half-expect them to make you beg for a little longer but it seems your special day has left them more merciful than usual. Natasha’s lips make their way up your neck and onto your jawline until she reaches your lips and gives you the permission you’re searching for.

“Go ahead, cum for us.”

You’ve heard the words thousands of times and yet they make you fall apart like nothing else. The slow build-up finally reaches its peak with one more swirl of Natasha’s thumb against your clit and you literally fall face-first into your orgasm.

“Such a good girl, love. Always so good for us.”

Your response comes in the shape of a muffled whine as you bury your face into the redhead’s neck. 

The sound makes both of your girlfriends smile and Wanda moves to sit on Natasha’s other side while they wait for you to recover. “I guess we’re not leaving the hotel any time soon.”

“Are you complaining, Maximoff?”

“Shut up.”

Their bickering makes you giggle. “Wanda’s being a brat again, Nat.”

“I know.” The green-eyed woman turns her head to press a barrage of kisses against the side of your face. “I think that means she can’t join us in the shower.”

The comment draws another complaint out of the young witch and you happily rest in your girlfriend’s arms while they start up another playful argument you’ll eventually have to get in the middle of.

You don't mind though, there's no other way you'd rather spend your birthday than with them.

[reqxxyt]

secret relationship trope with danny ric please? 🫣🫣

Second Chance

pairings: daniel r. x f!reader

warnings: a little bit of jealousy, rushed ending

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited] wc: 1.9k

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“This is stupid” you said, practically wanting to flip the table that stood between you and Christian. You only gave you a strong look as you huffed, “Have you spoken to Daniel about it?” 

“No, I was hoping you would be able to settle it down with him” he confessed, sighing to himself knowing how hard it was to let go of someone that seemed like part of the family in such a short amount of time. 

You couldn’t explain how angry you were, “Get one of the HR to do it then, isn’t that what their job is?” your arms crossed over to your chest standing up from the chair. He stayed silent, only getting you more mad “Hes my-” you stopped yourself, no one knew of your relationship with Daniel, considering having an engineer and driver relationship would look terrible. Your voice cracked, lips trembling near tears welling up “hes my best friend” 

He only nodded, understanding the situation you were in. “I just thought it would be better for you since you two are so close, maybe it would be easier” he shrugged. 

“Well its not” you said before leaving to not have him see you breakdown and be a witness to your sadness from the news. You would only hope they changed their mind about it but now being told about it, there was no going back. 

The entire day you stayed on edge when you were around Daniel, not telling him anything. He could tell you were acting strange considering you were always so bubbly and giddy when around him but he didn’t ask anything. You began to feel as if they may have changed their mind after so much silence, maybe they may have listened to your begging. But it all came crashing down on Friday of that week. 

Daniel arrived at your apartment with tears in his eyes, trying to contain himself thinking you had known nothing of it. He hated the idea of having to break it to you, but he had to. 

“Baby?” he came in the room, with a quiet tone making sure you were awake. You sat up seeing his frown only made your own heart drop, they told him. But you stayed silent, pretending to not know anything. 

“Whats wrong?” you asked scutting up closer to the edge as he sat down trying to organize his thoughts. Your hand laid on his, rubbing it allowing him to say something. 

“Its over, I’m no longer a red bull driver” he said it so monetonly, with little emotion while tears were starting to form in his eyes knowing how much dedication he had put into this. “Mclaren offered me a position though, so its not completely over” he held a hopeful look as you just stared back, with a small frown knowing he was only holding a hopeful look for you two but you had to break it to him. 

“We can’t stay together” your own words made your heart want to tear out of your chest, throat starting to close at his response. His eyes fluttered, attempting his best to understand the words you just let out. “Baby I’m-”

“No.” his voice had a sudden anger tone in them, picking back up your hands changing his gaze to a much softer one when he met your eyes. “We can work this out- we can still try-” but you just kept shaking your head repeating ‘no. no we can’t’. 

“You know how bad this be for the two of us” his grip had tighten, thinking if he could hold tighter you wouldn’t be able to leave. “Our careers could meet their end, I don’t want that for you” 

His forehead landed on yours and you didn’t deny the pull of his hands, only closing your eyes to not meet his own. His lips grazed your own and you still didn’t push away or lean in as his lips attempted to connect to yours meeting no response. 

“We can still try” his broken voice made your insides want to scream, to pull him close, to comfort the boy who was hurting right in front of you but you listened to your head as you pulled your hands away first before leaning back, wiping away tears in the process. 

“I’m sorry, Daniel” you apoligized one last time and he finally backed away understanding there could be nothing more to salvage this. He got up, looking back at you one last time before leaving your lone apartment. 

Tears wouldn’t stop flowing that night, having to call in sick the next day because of a headache not being able to leave. The ache in your heart was far worse, you had lost your best friend and your boyfriend in the span of a couple of minutes. 

During the next couple of weeks, it took a lot for you to properly talk to someone else even in a friendly manner. You couldn’t stop picturing Daniel walking away even if you were the one to break up with him, it hurt like hell. Max would check up on you, making sure you’re doing all right and you could only nod your head lying to him and yourself before he would leave you alone allowing your thoughts to surround you. 

When you had to meet Sergio, the driver for your engineering team you tried to remain a smile. You hated how much you resented him in the beginning, he did nothing wrong. But you found yourself glaring at him, Max spotting it too, helping you out by realizing your constant look of hatred towards him. You even started to notice how Sergio would act around you now, a bit nervous and on edge, which you had to apoligize for. 

Soon after that, you two spoke more. Nothing unusual considering you were always talking to him about some parts changing or how to better use newer upgrades but you two started to grow a friendship over the first year. 

Meanwhile, Daniel had seen this friendship growing, taking glances at the red bull garage to see you laughing about some jokes being said by Checo. How much he adored your laugh and smile, he thought he would never see it again. 

“Making daggers for the red bull driver?” Lando, his teammate would tease spotting Daniel glare lazers at the mexican driver who so happened to be in the same presence and his past girl friend. Daniel only threw the glare at Lando making him laugh a bit more before shutting up. 

He hated how jealous he was, even after a year of breaking up he still couldn’t get his mind off of her. Its the sole reason why he was doing poorly in all of his recent races, seeing you laugh so comfortably around another made him distracted. 

And while Mclaren noticed the lack of focus, you noticed with them beginning to grow worried for the australian driver. But you still strayed your distance, making sure not to interact with him no matter the amount of alcohol in your system after another victorious race. You were afraid of how fast you would give in to him, and you knew the clear consequences that Christian established. 

But all of that changed when you received news on late season of 2022, Daniel was no longer a F1 driver. You called Max that day to make sure your eyes were not crapping on you. You felt terrible for Daniel, wanting to check up on him but you denied your heart and instead focused on the plan for next season. The rest of the week was restless, constantly staying at the office almost falling asleep on your desk before you grab another cup of coffee or energy drink to give you enough boost to keep you up the rest of the night. 

Thursday was no different, you stayed making as many outlines as possible to get the best outcome and present to pitch the idea on Saturday but you just needed to perfect it. Maybe this could finally bring you a promotion. But you fell asleep by 2 in the morning, the last one in the office and stayed there the entire night. 

“Still overwork yourself?” the familiar voice julted you upwards, noticing the bright lights of the room before trying to adjust your eyes to the figure. Daniel Ricciardo was leaning against the doorframe of the office with a small smile, as if the most comfortable. 

Are you dreaming? There is no way Daniel, who was just announced former driver is standing in front of you by a couple of feet. Your mouth fell agape, slightly afraid that your mind was able to make such a detailed image until you hear him clear his throat and you finally shook your head expecting him to disappear but he still stayed there. 

“I’m back” his jazz hands didn’t help and neither did the growth of his smile work as you slowly stood up. This had to all been reasoned with sleep deprivation, right? “Okay stop staring” he joked, sounding a bit creeped out as you two walked forward each other, you lifted your hand and poked him on his chest. His eyebrows furrowed from your action and you only gave him an adored look. 

“You’re here” was all you could say, still shocked and he only laughed realizing why you had poked him. He grabbed your hand and you didn’t flinch or pull away like he thought you would,

“Red Bull took me back, not as driver but thats alright” he shrugged and finally came your smile, the one he had dreamt of, thinking at one point he had forgotten what it look like at some point. “At least you’re here, right?”

Your pushed your head forward to his figure, bringing it into his neck as he wrapped his hands around you, an action you normally did with him when you felt overwhelmed just needing contact with him. It all felt so familiar, so comfortable, and you realized you never want to leave. 

“I missed you so much” he said, voice a bit quiet as he pulled you in closer. You breathed in a deep breath, wanting to intoxicate yourself with his scent. He didn’t expect for you to say it back but you mumbled it anyways, against his skin sending goosebumps from your breath fanning over his neck. 

“I’m so sorry” you wanted to apoligize a million times, never having regretted something so much. You pulled away from his neck as he leaned down, touching foreheads, you closed your eyes not being able to bare looking at his eyes but with a touch from his hand on the side of your neck, you flickered your eyes upwards. 

“Don’t apoligize baby” his pet name came so natural yet he hadn’t said it once these past two years. He truly did understand why you did what you did, and while he doesn’t think he would have the courage to do it in your shoes, it was the smart thing to do. To no longer have to hide it from people. “But, can we not keep it a secret anymore?” 

His eyes filled with hope meeting yours that had spilled a tear or two sent your heart on a blaze, warming your insides as you just nodded causing his smile to brighten. He leaned down closer to your height, beginning to touch noses as the air mixed with each others breath. 

“Can I?” 

[headkiss]

hiiii can i request and Eddie or Steve x reader where r scrapes their knee really bad and either one won’t stop babying them til it heals? may or may not have scraped my knee really bad 🫣

hiii i went with steve for this one, hope that’s okay!! and hope your knee heals soon lovely <33 | 0.7k fluff, tw for blood !

Steve stays by the windows this time of day. He glances up at everyone that walks by, waiting to catch a glimpse of you.

You walk your dog every day, the same route and everything. When you were a kid, you’d promised that if you got the dog, you’d take care of it, and somehow, you kept that promise.

It’s a nice routine, getting to spend a little time outside, nothing but your footsteps on the sidewalk and the jingle of your dog’s collar.

It’s even better when Steve happens to be outside, when you get to pause and talk to him for a bit.

You’re in front of your house once more when your dog gets distracted by something, circling you and before you know it, the leash is tangled around your leg. When your dog tries to take off, you end up on your hands and knees on the ground with a curse, feeling the sting right away.

Pushing yourself back to sit down, you swear again at the scrape on your knee, the blood coming to the surface, quickly running in a red tear down your leg.

Remorseful, your dog sits next to you and whines. You scratch the fur behind its ears.

Steve, of course, sees the whole thing. First, the little flutter in his chest when he saw you walking by, then, the small panic at seeing you fall. Seeing you even remotely hurt.

He grabs his car keys from the table by the door (to look like he was going somewhere, not like he’d just been watching you) and heads outside.

“Hey, are you okay?” He calls, lightly jogging down his driveway to get to you.

His voice warms you at first. And then the embarrassment creeps in. You cover your face with your hands, and pull them away before replying, “I’m fine, I swear. It looks worse than it is.”

“Why don’t I grab my first aid kit anyway? You can come sit on the porch.”

He holds out a hand, and you grab it with the one that isn’t grasping the leash. Sparks shoot from your fingertips all the way up your arm, landing in a pulse in your chest.

“Thanks, Steve.”

It hurts to bend your knee too much, and you hiss as you stand. So what if you use that as an excuse to lean on him just a little more, to hold onto his hand a little tighter?

Steve helps you sit back down on the porch step, crouching down with you.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod.

Steve walks inside, and once the door’s shut behind him, he all but runs to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. He’s not sure what it is about you that has him scrambling to spend more time with you, all he knows is that there is something. That it’s sort of undeniable.

While he’s gone, you take a moment to breathe, to try and get over how embarrassed you are that he’s seeing you like this, how much you like being around him even in these circumstances. You press your palm to your forehead and shake your head. You’re a mess.

Steve comes back quickly, a small white box in hand and the sweetest smile you’ve ever known on his face. He’s so kind, he makes it difficult to keep feeling embarrassed.

“Here we go.” He sits down beside you and opens up the first aid kit, grabbing some wipes first.

“I can do it,” you offer. Because as much as you’d love his hands on you, him taking care of you, he really doesn’t have to.

“It’s alright. Let me,” he says, placing a gentle hand around your ankle.

Steve starts by wiping up the blood from your leg, then from around your wound. He’s as gentle as can be, his touch delicate, his voice soft when he apologizes anytime he catches you wincing.

Then, something to clean it, “this might sting a little.”

“Okay,” you practically whisper, afraid to break the softness of the moment. Afraid to mess it up.

He’s right, it does sting, and when you suck in a sharp breath, he’s quick to ease you, “I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

And, well, how could anything hurt when Steve calls you sweetheart?

[sanchoyo]

u know what. The sleep thing is legit bothering me (I woke up at 3 AM after Not Enough Sleep so my nerves are Shot) I think I’m gonna keep a sleep tracker to see how much I sleep and when to try and confirm if there’s actually a Problem or What 🥲

[richonnesbitch]

Oh yay let’s keep the conversation going even though we don’t have new eps anymore

What is your favorite towl kiss??

There were so many I’m struggling to pick one! And honestly, ask me on any given day at any given hour and I might have a different answer 😭 Right now I’d say either ep2, when Rick snatches Dana and they make out or ep3 behind the tree. Both were very hot ot them 😮‍💨 and I have to resist the uege to say yeah but also that kiss and that kiss… we were fed!!!

This is such a tough question because all of them are soooo good. So why don't I give my top 3? To make it fair 🫣🫣🫣

3 - Ready?

This kiss is just so precious to me. After Rick and Michonne finally FULLY reunite, the two decide to exit the crumbling building. They prepare their weapons as they walk towards the door. Rick glances back to check if Michonne is ready but just HAS to kiss her before he does so. He just looks at her and he's so eternally grateful for everything she's done for him and he's just so filled with love for this amazing woman he can't help but to plant a little smooch on her. That's really his baby and he's gonna do everything he can to make things up to her!

2 - Come On

After running away from the imploding R-DIM, Rick leads Michonne behind the world's most see through tree. She's upset with him for trying to get her to leave without him while he's upset and stressed she didn't go. Rick desperately wants Michonne gone for her own safety so Rick attempts to push her away to get her to do so. But the thing is.... he can't resist her. He's never been able to. And when he looks into her eyes and stares into her lips, he puts all those angsty feelings aside. She had him moaning behind that tree and ten minutes later he acts like he's ready to knock her out and send her away forever 🙄🙄 yeah okay Richard.

1 - I Found You

This damn kiss is just so romantic. Imagine spending eight long torturous years away from your soulmate and forcing yourself to believe that you have no chance of ever seeing them again. You know they are alive but you can't get to them no matter what you try and no matter what you sacrifice. And suddenly, all thanks to fate, you somehow find yourself standing before each other!!! This kiss displays Michonne's pure joy, Rick's yearning, and the couples deep powerful unbreakable love for each other! All as snow falls around them! What gets more romantic than that? That's why it's my favorite kiss from the series.

[harrywavycurly]

Still shy anon 🫣

If I may be so bold as to ask for a lil snippet of Eddie officially asking Reader out after the baby shower. 🥹🩷

(ONLY IF YOU WANT TO.)

Hiii lovey!! It’s totally okay to be shy I get it!! But yes of course you can get Eddie asking Reader out! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all things It Was Just One Night here✨

“I think that went well…” “why do they make cakes out of diapers? I don’t get it? Just give us a box of diapers?” “I think they do it to be..more creative than just handing you a box of boring diapers?” “She got so many cute little outfits.” “She did…I saw you cry over a tiny Aerosmith shirt.” “So? You cry every time you see one of her socks.” “They are so fucking tiny how can you not cry looking at them?…what are you eating?” “Leftover snacks..this is banana with peanut butter dipped in chocolate.” “That’s the least weird snack you’ve had this whole pregnancy…” “so…Edward can we get this over with are so you still wanna talk about snacks and baby clothes?” “You make it seem like I’m about to do something horrible.” “Are you staling? Oh god did you change your mind? That’s totally fine if you did.” “Will you rel-” “we’ve talked about saying the R word Edward James…” “sorry…but no I didn’t change my mind…uh do you maybe wanna stop eating for a moment?…please.” “Do I need to stand up for this or something? You’re making me anxious.” “No you can stay seated…sorry I’m kinda uhm…you…you make me fucking nervous.” “Do you wanna hold my hand will that help?” “Uh sure….thanks.” “No problem…okay…I’m ready…go for it.” “Okay uhm…I was wondering if…you’d like to go on a date with me?” “I’ll have to check with my baby daddy…he gets kinda jealous when I hang out with other men.” “I can’t stand you.” “Yes Eddie I’d love to go on a date with you…” “how does tomorrow night sound?” “Sounds good to me…what are we gonna do?” “It’s a surprise….I know you just love a good surprise.” “Oh yeah..they make me so…happy.” “You can go back to eating your snack now…I’m gonna go put all Dotty’s stuff in her room…”

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Am I the only one craving CEO!Nat having assistant!R in her office bend over her desk while investors or whatever are waiting outside for a meeting w Nat. Nat fckn R senseless so everyone can hear them 🙇🏼‍♀️ ohh or after that the ‘meeting starts’ while R proceeds to sit on Nat’s lap cockwarming her 🫣

Don’t know I’m just a big fan of CEO!Nat

Slow Down

Warnings: dom g!p Nat, milfy!Reader cause why not? smut, degrading, edging, public sex kinda not really?

Words: 796

A/N: i am literally such a fangirl for natsxwife and tashakinks requests they're so bbg for that i love them.

this is basically a one-shot from You Can Be The Boss

hope you like this fic my angels, take care of yourselves i love you guys <3

You step into your wife's company, with her forgotten lunch in one hand, and her coffee in another. You never asked why she kept you as her assistant after the two of you publicly announced your relationship. But months after, you were finally back from maternity leave.

On your way to her office, a few of your coworkers greeted you, ‘Good morning Mrs. Romanoff.’ you were fairly new to the marriage so the thought of being, ‘Mrs. Romanoff’ made your heart flutter.

You opened the door to her office, your slight smile drops when you see her arguing on the phone. “Good morning Miss Romanoff.” you whisper, loud enough for her to hear. The corners of her lips slightly quirked up to a small smile.

Her gaze flickers up to you, “Yeah– yeah, the meetings in an hour. Bye.” she hung up the phone, setting it down on her desk. “Hey baby, when did you get here?” you put her lunch on an empty spot on her desk, “Just a few minutes ago,”

You walk over to her and sit on her lap, “You okay?” you ask, placing a light kiss to her neck. “Better now that you're here detka.” she sighs in relief, placing her hand on your thigh. “Is Alex at home?” you nod, “Melina's with him.”

You relax your body in the comfortable silence, slowly shutting your eyes. Her hand moves further up your thigh, “You made a mistake wearing such a whorish skirt in front of me kotenok.” you blink your eyes open when she brings two fingers to your covered centre.

You suck in a sharp breath as she slides your panties off, tossing them away. “Bend over the desk.” she orders. You get off of her and turn around, bending over the glass table. Your skirt rides up to your waist, exposing your, already dripping slit.

You wince when you feel a stinging pain on your ass, “Shh.. baby I won't hurt you.” you smile, “You just did Tasha.” she grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look up. “Feeling confident are we?” she whispers into your ear.

She presses her crotch to the back of your ass, grinding her bulge against you. “Natasha..” you gasp out, “That's not my name slut.” she sends another smack to your ass. “Daddy! Please.. please.” your whimpers were so loud that they could be heard from outside of the room.

She mutters out a ‘Good girl’ before she unbuckles her belt, and lines her tip to your wet cunt. You let out a shaky breath, clawing at her desk. “Daddy please!” your pleads, all so pathetic to Natasha. “Beg harder.”

“Please.. I need you so bad, please, daddy use me! Ruin me.” she smirks, “Yeah?” you nod hesitantly, regretting the last four words.

She slowly inserts herself inside of you, harshly grabbing onto your hips. High-pitched moans coming from your mouth as she thrusts in and out of you.

She grunts, slamming her cock deeper into you. “Fuck! Oh my god.” you were a moaning mess underneath her, “Daddy's gonna fuck you dumb baby.”

“Mhm..” you slur out, gasping softly as you feel a soft pair of lips sucking on your neck. “Nat– that's gonna make a mark stop.” she smacks your ass again. ‘That's gonna be red by now’ you make a mental note for later, “Good. People would know who owns you then.”

“Ohh– Natasha..” you loudly moan, scratching at her desk as she hits the sensitive spot in your cunt with every thrust. “Natty, please. I'm so close–” the burning desire to let go making you let out embarrassing whimpers.

She roughly tugs onto your hair, “Don't you dare.” she growls out. Knocks on her office door pulls you out of your trance. You widen your eyes in panic, “Natasha. Don't—” she covers your mouth, pulling you back onto her lap on the chair.

She adjusts your skirt, and fixes your messed up hair. Clearing her throat, “Come in.” she says. She pinches your thigh, leaning close to whisper in your ear. “Be a good girl and sit still and silent.” you nod, letting out a quiet squeak.

A couple of people walk into her office, taking a seat at the chairs in front of her desk with awkward looks on their faces.

The entire meeting was quick, but you fought the hardest urge to make a single noise as she was still deep inside you. Or grind shamelessly against Natasha's body.

The sigh of relief you let out as soon as the investors leave the office was unbelievable. Natasha plants a kiss onto your neck, “Good girls deserve a reward moya lyubov.” you crash your lips against hers, finally being able to let your soft moans out.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 3: Al-Haitham x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6757

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, power dynamics, petplay, collaring, predicament bondage, spanking, vaginal fingering, tail butt plug, object insertion

A/N: A few people asked for a follow up to Al-Haitham's piece from last years Kinktober and I'm personally always glad for any excuse to write about more petplay scenarios, so here we are! I hope everyone enjoys! 🫣

⭐

“So,” He intones, casually slouched to one side so he can brace his shoulder against the door jamb. With his arms crossed over his chest he looked the picture-perfect image of idle, confident arrogance standing there before you in the faint glow of a nearby street lamp. It was enough to almost make you sick. “You really decided to muster up the courage and come here after all. Consider me impressed.” 

Hands balled into tight, sweaty fists in the front of your breezy skirt, you pointedly keep your eyes downcast so you won’t have to look him in the face. Damn Al-Haitham and damn you for being fool enough to go through with this stupid idea. Hadn’t he humiliated you more than enough the last time? 

“Is that alright? I could always come back some other day …” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re already here, why send you away?” Straightening up, Al-Haitham shifts to the side to unblock the entrance to his home and grant you entry despite looking anything but welcoming. “Come in. And try not to look so scared.” 

You can feel your cheeks quickly growing hot enough to fry an egg on but you stubbornly shove aside all the uncertainty and ill opinions you had of the scribe in favor of focusing only on your objective. Of course that was in many ways exactly what had gotten you into this mess in the first place, yet it seemed you still hadn’t quite learned your lesson. You wouldn’t have shown up at his doorstep like this otherwise. 

Steeling yourself, you stiffly move forward to shuffle past him to stand just inside his foyer while he closes the door behind you. His home isn’t particularly large but it's finely furnished and surprisingly quaint in its own way. You wonder at that as you take in the decor, noticing an odd disconnect between one piece of furniture or knickknack and the next. While some of it was quite stylish other bits and bobbles leaned more towards an eclectic taste that didn’t seem to match. 

And then your eyes land on the neatly lined up row of shoes just off the main entrance. 

Two different sizes. 

“Don’t worry. My roommate is out on business tonight.” He says, supplying an answer to the unasked question, and you bring your head up with a quick snap. 

“I didn’t know you had a roommate.” 

His hand is suddenly right in front of your face when you turn towards him, making you startle, but he merely slips those long fingers underneath your chin to further nudge your attention up at him. Verdant gaze studying you closely, Al-Haitham searches your expression for a drawn out beat — for what, you do not know — before deigning to speak again. “Well, I do. Have one I mean. He won’t be bothering us any time soon though, so tell me what it is you want.” 

Your natural disinclination for him quickly rears its ugly head, and you narrow your eyes up at him in annoyance. “How do you know I want something?” 

“Please. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t. Now spill it.” 

Clicking your tongue, you irritably pull away from him and take a step back to put some distance between you two. Hopefully that would be enough to give you a chance to think straight, even though it was clear you hadn’t been doing much of that at all recently. “Look. I know you and I don’t exactly get along even under the best of circumstances but … do you recall what you said to me back in the Grand Sage’s office?” 

“My office, at least for the moment, and yes. I said a great many things to you that day. Which are you referring to specifically?” 

“Gods, you’re such an ass.” You murmur, wondering why you’d even come here when you knew good and well how he was. It’s much too late to start giving this second thoughts though, so you lift your chin in defiance of his surly attitude. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Acting Grand Sage, but I believe you told me I could come to you if I ever wanted a refresher course on our last — lesson. Does that offer still stand?” 

“Oh?” Looking really quite smug now, Al-Haitham allows his roguish mouth to curl into a brief smirk. “Is this supposed to be your way of asking nicely for something? Gotta’ say, your methods could still use some work but I can see we’re making progress. It’s better than the last time, at least.” 

“Are you going to answer the question or not?” You demand, feeling your jittery nerves start to get the better of you. 

If you’d had any other option here you would have gladly taken it before ever subjecting yourself to this particular man’s presence ever again but you just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the time you’d spent with him in his office. By the end of it you’d been all but preening at his soft spoken praise only to then be cast back out into the real world where people in polite society didn’t talk to each other like that. It was maddening in the worst possible way. 

Worst of all, he still hadn’t signed off on that damn expense sheet even after saying he’d give it another look and yet that seemed to be the farthest thing from your mind anymore. The only thing you really wanted at this point was to experience the same warm buzz of satisfaction you’d felt when he spoke to you in that uncharacteristically soft, doting manner as before. Was that seriously too much to ask for? 

“Just relax. We really need to work on that impatient streak of yours.” He says, evidently recognizing the frazzled look on your face for what it is. “And don’t worry, my offer still stands. I’ll play with you again. Good timing, actually. I recently bought a few things at the bazaar that I think you might like.” 

“Huh?” You blurt, turning to follow him with your eyes when he brushes past you into the rest of the house. “Don't tell me you actually knew I’d come here like this?” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch. All I did was calculate the odds that you would eventually decide to seek me out again, so the expense was justifiable despite being preemptive. Get undressed while I grab everything and wait for me until I get back.” 

And just like that he’s gone, disappeared down the hallway into a room on the far end of the house by the sound of it. 

For a long moment you just stand there, too stunned at Al-Haitham’s gall to take action. You weren’t sure who he thought he was but as usual it was already giving you a headache. Nothing ever went as you hoped it would whenever he was involved. 

Rousing yourself though, you quickly get to work. Far be it that you were any more comfortable with the thought of being naked in front of him than you were the first time, but you’d known what you were signing up for when you chose to come to him like this. And you’re glad to find it’s a little easier without him standing there, looming over you like some scrutinizing gargoyle while more and more of your body is slowly revealed to him, so there was that perk. If anything you were just glad he hadn’t sent you away. 

But once you find yourself standing nude in his living room some of the uncertainty starts to come back. Just what the hell were you doing here? And how were you supposed to position yourself, should you sit or stand? Did he expect you to seamlessly fall into the role of obedient dog again even if he wasn’t there to guide you through the process like before? 

There was no clear cut solution to any of these problems you now faced, and you at last decide to err on the side of caution. You would prostrate yourself for him, since he seemed to get so much satisfaction out of that, but you’d wait for further instruction before doing anything else. It was undeniably silly, but you didn’t want to seem too eager. 

Thus when Al-Haitham returns after another moment or two, he finds you kneeling on the ornate rug laid out across the floor with your legs neatly folded underneath you. He noises a soft sound of acknowledgement as he strides across the room and you attentively zero in on the wooden box he’s got in his hands. 

“What’s that?” You chance to ask, earning a quick, vaguely amused look from him. 

“I wasn’t aware dogs knew how to speak to ask such questions of their masters.” 

Flushing all over again, you breathe out a soft huff through your nose but remain otherwise silent. You’re much more interested in observing him anyway, particularly when he sinks down to sit on the nearby sofa before placing that mysterious box next to him on the cushions. 

Then the full brunt of his attention is back on you. “Come here.” He commands, indicating the spot next to his feet. 

You catch yourself starting to prickle, your pride almost getting the better of you once again, but you quietly remind yourself that this was what you’d wanted. After being hounded by indecent thoughts for weeks now, all of them revolving around the scribe, there was no point making any qualms about it or pretending otherwise. 

So you somewhat grudgingly shift forward to brace on your hands and knees before crawling over to him. You’re acutely aware of the sway of your breasts while you do so, particularly when he was watching you do it and no doubt seeing every little detail of your body in this humiliating position, both the good and the bad. The crippling note of self consciousness that shudders through you is not nearly enough to douse your anticipatory excitement though, and you hesitantly tip your face towards him as you shuffle up to the sofa, earning a nod of approval. 

“Sit.” 

Obediently plopping your ass down on the carpet, you make a point of straightening your back for him to push your bare tits up and out. You felt incredibly foolish for being so concerned about his opinion of your body but that lingering sense of stubborn combativeness quickly fades when he reaches out to pet over your head with an indulgent gesture. 

“Good girl. I have something for you.” 

Feeling fuzzy and warm, you blink up at Al-Haitham through the growing fog as he reaches for the box. That he makes a point of opening the lid towards you so that you can’t see what’s hidden inside almost manages to annoy you but you quickly stamp it down in favor of simply watching him. With a faint rustle, he lifts what you immediately recognize to be a collar from inside and silently presents it to you, just observing your reaction. 

The flustered look on your face must be an interesting one though, because he chuckles a brief laugh only a moment later. “Do you know what this is?” 

Reluctantly nodding, you shoot him a wary look. 

“Excellent. Then I shouldn’t have to waste any time on explaining it.” 

His large, dexterous hands get to work on unfastening the little eyelet so he can pull it open while you frantically try to rationalize this in your mind. Unaware of how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, he leans down to wrap the surprisingly thick band of leather around your throat so he can secure it into place at the back and you just sit there as if in a numb stupor while he does it. 

You couldn’t believe this was really happening … 

“As long as you’re wearing this,” He drawls, still fiddling with the catch to ensure it was sufficiently snug on your neck. “You’ll be my pet and I expect you to act accordingly. I won’t hesitate to punish you if you misbehave but … I also won’t hesitate to reward you either. We can play this game as long as you’d like, and when I take this off we’ll go back to our usual roles. No questions asked. Does that sound fair to you?” 

You slowly nod your agreement, suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to even think a coherent thought. As if being collared by him had effectively pulled a hazy, disarming shroud over your head, you were struggling to formulate anything at all in your mind when the only thing you could seem to focus on was the brush of his hands against your skin, the smell of him. The domineering way he’s leaned over you from his elevated position and the close proximity that came with it. You’d understood on some innate, instinctive level that you wanted him to subjugate you to his will again but you hadn’t expected it to have such an all encompassing effect on you. It was as if your higher functioning ego was slowly slipping away, like sand through your fingertips. 

And when he at last deems the collar to be adequately secured, leaning back to look at you with an unreadable expression, you positively quake under the spotlight of his attention. Al-Haitham may have been able to irritate you far beyond what any other person had ever accomplished, but when he looked at you like that … Archon’s, you would have done anything he asked of you if it only meant he’d praise you for it. 

“You’re certainly being good this evening. Guess you must have really needed this.” His eyelashes drooping to attractive half mast to mirror a very small fraction of the anticipation you were currently feeling, he reaches out to casually flick at the metal ringlet attached to the front of your new collar. “It’s just as I thought. Pink really does suit you. That being said, you have no idea how long it actually took me to find one of these in this color. You should probably thank me for it.” 

You shoot a quick, hungry look at his lap, the muscles in your legs already bracing to lean forward and put your mouth on him, but he stops you in your tracks with another quiet chuckle. 

“Not like that, though I do appreciate your enthusiasm. As long as you continue to be good for me I think we’ll be just fine.” Straightening up from his comfortable slouch, Al-Haitham then reaches back into the box to dig for something else. The sound of metal clinking together makes your heart skip a beat and you anxiously fidget there on the floor while he pulls out a long, complicated string of chains that all seem to connect in the same spot. 

Having no idea what to make of it, you blithely glance up at him in question. 

“This is to help you stay in position. Think of it like a training aide.” 

Evidently that’s all the explanation you’re going to get and you swallow hard, nearly choking on your nerves, when he leans down again. With a simple gesture of his hand, Al-Haitham secures the topmost latch to the front of your collar. The links are slight enough that it doesn’t add much additional weight to your neck, which you’re rather grateful for, but you can tell that they’re still sturdy enough not to break easily.

You start to understand what’s happening in a far off, dreamy sort of way when he reaches for one of your hands next. Directing it up to about chest level, he makes quick work of securing the thin cuff on one of the other trailing chains around your wrist to keep it elevated, lest you pull unnecessarily on the collar should you try to bring it back down again. He repeats the process on the other side to leave you in an approximation of the same begging position he’d made you assume last time, and you just let him do it because … you have no idea why. 

By all accounts this should have been setting off every single alarm bell in your head but it just doesn’t. If anything, your fast thrumming excitement only ratchets up another notch to leave you all but vibrating there at his feet. 

And when he finally settles back to take up the last chain, this one longer than all the rest, you immediately recognize what it is. A leash. One that he wraps the excess length around his knuckles before slowly tugging on it to pull you up to your knees. A shuddering moan slips out as you rock forward under the steady guidance of his gentle yet insistent pulling with your hands uselessly restrained in front of your chest. This was so incredibly dehumanizing … 

“Good girl. You look lovely like this.” His mouth faintly curling again, Al-Haitham reaches out his opposite hand to casually flick his finger back and forth over one of your tightly coiled nipples. “Feeling comfortable?” 

Helplessly mewling, you force your sluggish head to bob in agreement. This was too much and yet somehow not nearly enough at the same time. You felt like you were going mad. 

“On the floor then. All the way.” 

Tense and shirking, you slowly ease back to sit on your haunches before carefully leaning forward to brace your arms on the rug. You have to go slow or risk yanking on your collar, and the insidious nature of this set up quickly makes itself known. Not only were you effectively restrained and at his mercy like this, but the short length of the chains forces you down close to the ground to leave your backside pointed up in the air. Completely defenseless and vulnerable. He could have done anything at all to you in this position. 

The thought alone is enough to make you tremble uncontrollably, and you suck in a deeply frazzled breath when you feel him lean over you again. His hand finds your ass to smooth over it before giving you an encouraging pat that only seems to rush straight to your slicking cunt, making you whine low in your throat. What was he going to do to you when the possibilities seemed limitless and each one made you feel that much more desperate than the last? 

You soon get your answer when he silently withdraws his palm only to bring it back down on the meat of your backside in a stinging, hard handed swat. The suddenness of the slap shocks you more than the actual sharp burst of pain does, and you rock forward with a startled squeak. But he’s quick to do it again, targeting the other cheek this time, to make you mewl and fitfully squirm on the floor. 

“Don’t move.” He warns, giving the now aching skin a mean squeeze. “I’m just going to get you warmed up first before the main event, but if you decide not to be good for me I’ll have to really punish you. Surely you don’t want that, do you?” 

Half delirious, you slowly shake your head and the resulting clink of the chains rattling with the motion further highlights your position here. Even if you’d wanted to fight it there was nothing you could do with your hands secured as they were, nowhere for you to run when you were stark naked and effectively trapped in his home. All you can do is kneel there and take it, feeling your ass jolt in the air when he brings his hand down again to spank across your sit spots in rapid succession before focusing back in on the fattest part of your behind. 

What was initially a briefly sharp starburst of pain quickly morphs into a constant, throbbing sting that seems to spread across your whole backside while he peppers back and forth between your cheeks over the next some odd minutes. It seems to stretch on for an eternity but, logically, you knew it must have only lasted for a short while. Just enough to warm up the skin and leave it tender in the wake of his hand. That’s what he’d said, anyway. 

And you’re so far gone in the hazy stupor you’d slipped into that you couldn’t even fully grasp just how humiliating this really was. Being forced into such a position with your ass shamelessly presented for him to do whatever he liked and yet he chose to spank you. You’d probably be furious with him later on, and rightfully so, but in this particular moment the only thing you can bring yourself to care about is how turned on it was making you. 

The single other instance you could recall where you’d been quite this worked up was the last time you and him had played this game, sequestered away in the relative privacy of the Grand Sage’s office. Never before and never since. 

Here you had real privacy though and a much smaller chance of discovery, particularly if what he’d said about his mysterious roommate being out for the night was true. And it’s clear Al-Haitham plans to take full advantage of the freedom allotted to him by doing this in his own home, because no sooner does he finally pull his hand from your throbbing ass do you feel his fingers descend upon your cunt. 

Yelping a mindless sound of startled delight, you eagerly arch your spine and rear back on his hand in humble supplication for more. He laughs a low, rumbling sound at the display even as the rough pads of his fingertips skirt down the seam of your labia to rub sedate circles over your clit. The gesture quickly makes you realize exactly how soaked you are with copious arousal when he smears it across your pussy lips in the process, making an even bigger mess of you. 

Bless the gods, but you were going to cum in record time. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now, trembling like that with my handprints all over your ass. If it weren’t for your usual attitude I’d even say you look like you were made for this. Do you enjoy it when I touch you here?” 

You let out a needy, faltering groan and jerk your head in a quick nod, making the chains jostle again. 

“Then let me hear you, darling girl. Speak.” 

It’s a real struggle to think clearly when he was still intently drawing his fingers over that sensitive pleasure button but your cotton stuffed head somehow manages to parse what he was asking of you. It was the same as last time. The same ‘trick’ he’d taught you in his office. The memory of idiotically barking like a dog had kept you awake many a night since, and not for the reasons you would have liked … 

You absolutely hate how much it excites you, your cheeks flushing incomprehensibly hotter even as you hang your head low and force out a weak, “Wh - woof!” 

“Oh? Is this not to your liking? My apologies then. Perhaps you want it here instead?” Abandoning your clit, Al-Haitham trails his fingers further up to your entrance where he quickly sinks one of those sinuously long digits into your cunt, forcing the inner sleeve of your body to stretch open around him. 

Stiffly lurching at the unexpected penetration and the jolt of friction that comes with it, you desperately ball your hands into tight fists against the rug in an attempt to ground yourself. “Woof! Woof wh - oof! Ahhn!” 

“Mmm, pretty sounds for a pretty girl. And so tight too. Don’t tell me you haven’t been playing with yourself at all since our last session? Too embarrassed or … were you just waiting for me to be the one to play with this needy little pussy for you?” 

You try to bark again, knowing he was likely to stop if you didn’t, but you can’t quite seem to find enough oxygen to do so. Your lungs were constricting much too tight with the short, labored gasps you rapidly suck in as the tension inside your cunt dizzyingly swells to near discomfort. You were beyond soaked, and the sticky wet clicks he pulls from your shuddering body when he adds a second finger only attests to that. The obscene schlucking sound that starts up when he begins to fuck you with them seems to echo in the space between your ears, adding to the total onslaught to your senses. All you could do was squeal helpless, dire tinged animal noises into the static charged room while he mercilessly pounds into you from behind. 

“Are you going to cum for me already, sweetheart? Gonna’ squirt all over this carpet just like you did on the one in my office? Huh?” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, neither slowing down nor ceasing his ministrations for even a moment, and your eyes soon begin to roll back when your impending orgasm suffocatingly bears down on you. The building pressure was too much, the deliberate jabs of his fingers far too concentrated on that receptive bundle of nerves within you. Your body simply couldn’t take it even as you continue to gush excessively around the intrusion, and then all at once the scales seem to tip. 

You cum with a shuddering jerk, frantically wailing in pleasure when you feel your pussy give out to release a fresh deluge of slick. Screwing your eyes shut, you deliriously ride out the juddering waves of pleasure that sweep over you in a torrent as your squeezing cunt uncontrollably erupts around Al-Haitham’s fingers, having once again expertly coaxed you to this unseemly state. It was like being stretched too thin on such a bone deep level that by the time you finally start to come down from the reeling high another moment later you barely even know who you are anymore. 

All that seems to register in your punchdrunk mind is his unmistakably masculine presence hovering over you, his hand slowly withdrawing from your cunt with a messy wet slurp that makes you sensitively twitch. The smell of him, his taste on the back of your tongue. In retrospect it was no wonder just that one fateful encounter with him had ruined you so irreparably. 

How in the world had you not seen it sooner? He was the singularly most infuriating man you’d ever met, yes, but he was also the only person you’d ever known who seemed to understand you better than you understood yourself. You hadn’t even thought you were capable of squirting before this. Damn him. 

Issuing a groggy groan into the rug, you slowly begin to stir from your semi comatose state. You weren’t sure when exactly you’d pressed your cheek into the floor but you force your head up as primly as you can manage given the circumstances. And still trembling with the lingering remnants of your release, you shoot a cautious look underneath you only to grimace when you spot the telltale wet stains bleeding into the carpet. Unfortunately you’re not allowed much of a chance to recover or find your bearings though, and you give a faint hiss when Al-Haitham nudges your attention up at him with a firm tug to the leash. 

That he still looks frustratingly cool and collected despite everything that had just transpired bothers you a great deal but you stubbornly keep those thoughts to yourself. He was going to get an ear full from you later. The least he could have done was put a towel down instead of purposely embarrassing you like this again! 

“Doing good so far?” Luckily he seems to take your nod at face value, and he reaches out to brush a bit of hair away from your face with an unexpectedly tender stroke of his hand. “Good. I’ve got something else for you, if you feel up to it.” 

Rousing from your hazy delirium a bit more, you somewhat roughly clear your throat after not using your voice for so long before venturing to speak. “I know I’m supposed to be playing a role here but I have to ask. When exactly did you find the time to plan all of this? You seem suspiciously well prepared.” 

“It’s not so much that I planned it, but rather I simply followed through on an idea that already existed.” He says, earning a skeptical lift of your brow, and he quietly clicks his tongue when he realizes he’s going to have to offer up a better explanation than that. “You seem to remember everything else I said the last time so I’m surprised you don’t recall this. I told you if I’d had some warning beforehand I would have purchased a few things in advance. Well, I decided that I wouldn’t be caught unawares again. If you came to me I  wanted to be ready.”

“The collar.” You murmur, idly reaching up to touch it with a brief rattle of the connecting chain. “You did say that, didn’t you? What else do you have in there?” 

“Want to find out?” 

Shooting him a wary glance, you consider your options here. It sounded like he’d let you go if that was what you wanted after already having gotten off once, which was unexpectedly conscientious of him, but … were you really satisfied with just that? You’d thought about this almost nonstop for weeks and now that you were in front of him, collared and kneeling at his feet, you weren’t so sure you were ready to call it a night just yet. 

Besides, he still hadn’t made any attempt to see to his own needs and the low simmering pulse in your cunt hadn’t been fully satiated. Perhaps if you played along a little longer he’d stretch you out and stuff you full with something hopefully a bit more substantial than his fingers. A girl could certainly hope, at least. 

“Alright. I’m listening.”

“That's a good pet.” He murmurs, sticking his hand out to lightly palm over your head and you don’t stop long enough to reconsider it before nuzzling into the gesture with a soft purr. It seemed your earlier impression was correct. As long as he kept praising you, you’d do anything he wanted. 

Pulling back, Al-Haitham directs his attention back around to the contents of the box again. You listen to him dig for something, wondering how many items he’d actually purchased for the sake of being prepared, but you can’t quite see what he finally pulls out from your position on the floor. Even when you try to crane your neck up for a quick look the only thing you can make out is him fiddling with something. 

“This might be a bit cold at first.” He warns. 

That’s all the notice you get before he leans over you, hand stretching out on a sure and steady trajectory towards your backside, and you outright squawk when you feel him smear something sticky over your asshole. He does it so casually, such idle surety in the motion, that it sends your heart shooting up into your throat. 

Mewling a soft sound of confusion, you shudderingly try to twist around on the floor to see what he’s doing but he just follows you when you angle away. His ministrations don’t even falter while he continues to smear that mysterious wet goop over your puckered hole to thoroughly coat you in it, your uncertainty growing by the second when understanding starts to dawn. 

Surely he wasn’t — 

“Don’t tense up. You need to relax.” He murmurs, slowly rubbing over your ass with concentrated strokes now to encourage the muscle to loosen. 

Oh, he most certainly was. 

“W - w - wha - -“ 

“No words now, pretty girl. Unless it’s to tell me to stop and that you don’t want to do this anymore, I’m not interested in hearing it. You’re going to be a good pet for me, aren’t you?” 

Whimpering, you screw your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing. That was easier said than done though, of course. You weren’t used to being touched like this and the prospect of having something inserted up your ass makes you far more nervous than anything else he’s done to you this evening. But it’s clear that was what he’s working his way up to, especially when he starts to carefully prod at the center wrinkle where the tight muscle begins to slacken and give way. He only taunts you with it though, never quite fully slipping his finger inside to penetrate you, and instead he focuses on merely teasing around the interior rim. 

You quickly realize he’s making sure you’re as well coated with that slippery lubricant on the inside as you are on the outside, and it becomes that much harder to keep your head on straight. 

Positively squirming when he at last pulls away some time later to leave your asshole sticky and loosened, you seethe into the rug while you listen to him dig something else out of the box. You have a few guesses in mind, naturally, but nothing quite prepares you for when you crack your eyes open at his behest only to find him dangling a long, fluffy tail in front of your face. 

Attached to the other end is what you can safely assume to be a plug based off the smooth, rounded tip that widens out into a bulbous base before then narrowing down to a thinner stem. The faux fur appendage dangles tauntingly from the bottom of it, and you softly groan at the full bodied shudder that tears through you. He really was going to put that thing inside your body. 

“Take a deep breath for me and let it out slowly. That’s it. Again. Such a good girl you’re being. I want you to focus on relaxing into it and bear down when I tell you to, alright?” 

At your faltering nod of understanding, in far too deep to back out now, Al-Haitham scoots to the very edge of the sofa and leans over you again. Using one hand to spread your sore cheeks open, he brings the plug close with the opposite to gently touch you with it. You jolt at the contact like he’d electrocuted you but quickly still again with an anxious little sob. Helpless to do anything else, you just kneel there at his feet and accept what’s happening while he lazily draws the toy through the excess lubricant he’d smeared all over you. 

When he finally starts to push in on the slackened pucker after another drawn out moment you go stockstill at the unfamiliar pressure, gasping roughly into the carpet. He softly tuts at you, encouraging you to calm down with soft words of praise, but it’s hard. Almost impossible when this was completely foreign to you and the slow stretch of yet untested muscle seems so debilitatingly sharp even in your punchdrunk state that you don’t know what to make of it. 

It doesn’t hurt though, you’re quite relieved to find. Just uncomfortable and more than a little strange, particularly when you could feel your asshole slowly losing the fight. There was too much lube for you to reject it and keep him out, the plug sufficiently smooth to make the penetration more of an easy glide than you’d expected it to be. In tortuous slow motion, he makes you take one millimeter at a time until your hole is stretched wide around the thickest part before gradually pulling back to repeat the process. 

Again and again, he makes your body open up to him before at last issuing the command for you to push. You almost don’t do it, unsure if you even could when the once tight ring of muscle felt so horribly strained, but with a low groan you comply. At the same time you bear down on the intrusion he gives it a quick push, and all at once the whole thing slips inside you straight down to the base. You rock forward with a haggard gasp, mindlessly jutting your ass up in the air as you weakly squeeze around the narrow stem only to realize that it was already too late. 

The toy was firmly wedged inside you now and taking up space that only seems to highlight how very empty your pussy is. He pulls back to admire his handiwork, letting the long tail settle against your soaked cunt with a faint brush of the fur. Trembling almost violently, you dig your toes into the rug and nudge your pelvis up as if you were little more than a bitch begging to be mounted. 

You really didn’t want to think about how apt that comparison actually was right now. 

“Just look at you, darling girl. I can tell how much you’re enjoying this from here,” He says, breaking through the delirium just enough for you to pick up on the vague note of satisfied awe creeping into his voice. Like he couldn’t believe you’d really allowed this to go so far, or maybe he was just finally starting to notice the effect this was having on his own body. It was hard to say with him. 

Groaning fitfully, you press your hot face into the ornate rug and give your ass a brief, supplicating shake. The tail shifts with the motion where it dangles down between your legs, brushing your pussy just so, but it’s not nearly enough to feel good. If anything it just makes you more desperate for his attention, his hand, his cock. Whatever he wanted to give you would have sufficed.

But of course Al-Haitham doesn’t relent and give you what you want. He never does, not directly anyway, and you seethe through your teeth when you feel him stand up from the sofa to loom over you. 

“Sit for me.” 

Blinking through the disorienting fog, you gingerly comply. Push up onto your forearms and get your knees adjusted under you before slowly sitting upright even when you dizzily sway with the motion. The change in position seems to make the plug feel even bigger where it’s keeping your ass stretched open around its width, and you faintly groan at the sensation. 

Al-Haitham is as unreasonable and demanding as ever though, and he barely allows you enough time to get situated in front of him before issuing his next command. “Good. Now beg.” 

The mere thought of assuming that position again makes you wince, your body already a mess of aches and pains, and throbbing arousal, but you comply with this too. It takes a bit of effort on your part to get your legs to cooperate but you eventually manage, somehow. 

And once you’re squatted before him, precariously balancing on your toes with your hands securely fastened up by your chest, you look to him for his next order. You no longer have any wherewithal left to feel at all embarrassed or ashamed of having your cunt on display like this, nor do you have it in you to second guess any of it. All you knew with certainty was that you were drowning in it, this hazy feeling of absolution that seemed to rend you to pieces and mend you back together again in the same breath. Perhaps it was a bit fatalistic, yes, but you’d never felt quite so sexually satisfied in all your life. 

Especially when he smiles, pinning you with one of those exceedingly rare, genuine little tugs of his mouth to indicate that he was pleased with you. It’s fleeting and short lived but you don’t miss it by a long shot as he proceeds to gently pull on your leash to make sure he’s got your attention.  

“Wag for me, pretty girl? Think you can do that?” 

You don’t stop to rethink this either. You just do it, struggling to shake your ass in this awkward balancing act to feel the tail swishing back and forth on the floor underneath you. It’s humiliating and dehumanizing in equal measure, but you would have gladly done that and so much more just to earn another doting pet of his hand, another soft word from his mouth. 

Al-Haitham had awakened something inside you that day in his office, and now you were his responsibility. For better or worse, he was your master and you his obedient, loyal pet.

⭐

Crossposted: here