#and they’re just sleeping in both of them oh my god
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⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️
⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️
🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲
🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️🧜♂️
Oh hell yeah! 42 for ⛅️
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Except, wait… What if they’re stuck here? Eddie is straight. He might want to not remain married to Buck. He might… Maybe he would want a divorce. Oh god. That would be terrible. Absolutely terrible. Tommy dumping him and then Eddie divorcing him? How can he already have a worse track record with men than with women! Women had a significant head start!
“Right?” He asks Eddie. “We’re not, right?”
“No!” Eddie answers, outraged like the question is ridiculous. “I would never divorce you!”
Okay, Mr. I’m Straight How Would We Even Have Sex. It wasn’t a silly question!
“Okay, well something is going on!” Chris insists. “You both cried when you saw me. You’ve hardly touched each other all night. You’re usually disgusting. You forgot Nico’s allergies, like you’re too distracted or something. What is going on?”
Buck and Eddie exchange an uncomfortable glance.
“Uh… I’m just… Not feeling well?” Buck tries.
“You’re sick?” Chris asks. “Oh my god, are you dying? Buck…”
“No!” Buck exclaims. “I’m not dying, Chris.”
“Then what?” Chris demands.
“We’re really okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t need to worry about it, bud.”
---
42 for ⚡️
---
“You’re gonna need it.”
Buck sighs. He knows Bobby is right. He should probably be trying to bank sleep instead of stress.
“It all just feels out of my control, you know?” Buck says. “Like if something goes wrong at this point, what can I do?”
“Nothing,” Bobby says. “There’s nothing.”
“See? That sucks!”
Bobby smiles. “That’s parenthood, though. That’s just… How a lot of it is.”
Buck nods. He knows that. Conceptually, he knows that. He just doesn’t like feeling it. He likes being able to do something. Manage potential problems. Be the solution. And as much as he knows that a baby a day overdue is not actually a problem, it just feels like the beginning of that anxious feeling he can’t do anything to solve.
“Things are going to happen that you have no control over,” Bobby says. “Lots of them. And things will happen that you do have control over that you get wrong. But what’s important is how you respond to that.”
Buck nods. “Who’s to say I won’t panic about that, too?”
“You will,” Bobby chuckles. “But it’s okay. Because, at the end of the day, I think you’ll always do right by her.”
Buck takes a deep breath. “Thanks, Bobby.”
“Of course,” Bobby replies. “You know… When Brooke was five - right after she started school - there was a school bus accident. One of the buses headed towards hers and Bobby Jr.’s school. While I was on shift.”
“Were they on it?” Buck asks.
“No,” Bobby shakes his head.
---
42 for 🌲
---
“So, then, like… Genetics makes sense, right? Unless there’s another comic-esque origin,” Buck says.
Eddie wrinkles his nose.
“Do you think I could have secret magic genes?” Buck continues. “My parents have English ancestry. What could that be?”
Eddie frowns. “Careful. A rabbit tempting enough runs by you and you might turn into a whippet.”
Buck smirks. “Aw, but you’d take care of me right? Put me in one of those little turtlenecks?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but finds that he’s smiling, too. How can Buck make him smile, even now?
“You know… A whippet’s life might be nice. Running really fast. Not a lot of problems. Soft turtlenecks. Presumably better-than-human hearing.”
Eddie tilts his head a little, taking Buck in. There’s a hint of sadness there. Well… Of course there is. This whole time they’ve been focused entirely on Eddie. But Buck’s been going through a lot, too.
“Hey, uh,” Eddie says. “How are you holding in? With everything that’s happened…”
Buck blinks. “Uh… Fine, Eddie. I’m fine.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow. That just confirmed the opposite.
“Buck.”
“Really!” Buck insists.
“Oh, come on,” Eddie chides. “Between the fitting and Tommy, you’ve gotta be stressed.”
---
42 for 🧜♂️
---
He can’t be honest. He’s landed on, it’s just Chris and I or he doesn’t have a mother in his life. This usually shuts down the conversation for anyone with the social skills to realize he doesn’t want to talk about it. Which, fortunately, is most people. But there’s always the odd one. Did she leave you? Is she dead? It’s awkward and uncomfortable and Eddie hates it.
So when he makes the decision to tell Buck about Chris, on the day of the earthquake, it’s maybe sort of a test. Which is unfair of him, he knows. But, underneath his layers of anxiety in trying to contact his son, there’s a need to know. How will Buck react? Will he see Eddie the way Eddie has seen him? Will he ask the wrong questions? The right, discrete ones? Eddie isn’t sure. And maybe the way Buck reacts will… Give Eddie a hint? As to whether or not his suspicions are accurate?
Buck’s response is great, but unhelpful. He beams, says he loves kids, and calls the photo of Christopher adorable. Well, yes! Christopher is adorable. Cutest kid ever, thank you very much. Said with no bias. He also doesn’t ask any questions about Christopher’s mother. So kind of a great response on all fronts. But not a conclusive one.
Eddie feels stupid. What was Buck going to do? Start discussing trans parenthood in the back of the fire engine? No. Obviously fucking not. If he was out, he’d be out. And if he’s trans and suspects Eddie, he wouldn’t out Eddie either. Damn it.
But the whole experience does teach Eddie something about Buck. When he decides he’s friends with you, he’s a damn good friend. Like, thoughtful and strikingly sincere. He spends the whole day supplying Eddie with earthquake facts. Reassuring him about Christopher’s safety. Keeping an eye on the cell service to see if Eddie can call Christopher’s school.
#daisies and briars writes#promising light fic#things we're all too young to know fic#firelight fic#take what the water gave me fic
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No FUCKING way
#less than 800 total words???#and Robin’s in both of them????#oh this needs to be FIXED#this is COWARDICE#and they’re just sleeping in both of them oh my god
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qsmp francophone cubitos and their dynamic drive me wild, they all know they’re mutually lying and obscuring the truth to one another, they all know they’re keeping each other at arm’s distance, they all know they’re not as open as they once were when it was just them and the aftermath of a plane crash, but the love is still there. the worry and the concern. they pry information out of one another in supposedly subtle ways that really just convey how much they still care about each other. what’s your stance on the federation. how’s your code arm doing. even if in the end you don’t turn to me, please call out to someone. maybe looking out for yourself is looking out for others as well. i don’t know you anymore but i will protect the unknown anyway
#qsmp#qsmp french#jay rambles#i need to go sleep . said i’d go to sleep ages ago . rotating them in my mind anw . fawk#it’s like. they KNOW they’re not being frank with one another. and it’s almost a game they play#i ask you this question and you know what i mean . but i will not say it outright .#for how long can we dance around the topic until one of us spills the obvious out into the open air#<- etoiles broke first btw lmao . and he and baghera went right back to pretending like neither of them knew any better too#insane of them . fuck#(for context it was about bbh and ron . both him and baghz were prodding at each other trying to gauge how much the other knew#and etoiles at one point just said ‘oh my god i know you know baghera !!! please !!!!’ it was a very validating moment for french cubito#enjoyers . right until they went back to pretending nothing had happened . win)#shoutout to like two months ago when etoiles said smth along the lines of how baghera isn’t telling him everything bc she doesn’t trust him#i will explode and explode and explode#antoine’s whole Thing early on about being distrustful and wary of others and how it hurt that he wasn’t always told everything anymore#a slow unraveling of the status quo that you don’t even realised has happened until you look around you
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common thick hair dub started pulling chunks of hair out can’t even tell where
#personal#it was at the front of my head too like damn bitch. my hairline.#my mom said she’s sending dad to a home bc we obviously can’t do it#and i was like oh for sure if that’s best but don’t do that bc of me pulling hair#i’ve been self harming since ten cmon this is pretty normal#she was like 🤨 okay#i drafted this and then not kidding my dad#okay so first hair pull came bc my dad requested the rest room at like 11:40#which like fair you gotta piss you gotta piss#walk him down with the walker but he got turned around and disoriented in the bathroom#god im so awful he’s not eating to stop using the bathroom to stop bothering us then i’m crying at 3 am walking him there#anyway so he’s like where am i and im like the bathroom and he’s like i don’t need to use the bathroom my bad#walk him back - he’s like take me to the bathroom#and we’re like?? do you need to go?#and he’s like no i just want to know the path for myself#and he won’t let my mom get five steps away she’s severly sleep deprived and tells him no#you’re going to bed i’m going to bed grahams goign to bed and they’re fighting#dads like i’m gonna leave to find someone outside to help me#moms grabbing my arm and walking away and dads right there and then i’m screaming at them#cause i understand both my dads so anxious and scared and my mom is so exhausted#anyway yelling works everyone stops fighting blah blah mom goes to bed dad does too#five minutes later hear my dad in the living room clattering around and walk in to him holding the tv up and it’s FALLING#so i run over pick it up and my fucking god#we were talking earlier how he thought the tv was a door bc of the light#and he was trying to? get out? go to the rest room? i don’t know#either way walk him to the bathroom and back#cry go to bed cover my ears when i hear him clap for help again at 3 am then get up and help him#mom scared the shit out of me i was setting up the water for my dad and crying and my mom just APPEARED in the shadows#i feel so bad she saw that bc i closed her door and left mine open so she could sleep!!!!!!#she’s sleeping on the couch with him rn i should wake her up and let her go to bed but i dont want to i dont want to i dont how she does it
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IF I WAS A BAD BITCH, I'D WANNA F★CK ME TOO! ၄၃ gojo satoru x female reader x (female?!) gojo satoru
18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. established relationship. threesome featuring m & f gojo. dom! gojo(s), sub reader. bisexual reader. slight cnc/dubcon. marathon sex. fingering. voyeurism + cucking. spanking. humping. finger-sucking. the big three: praise, humiliation and degradation. jealousy-fueled and dare i say competitive sex. oral (f. giving & receiving, m. giving and receiving). p in v, creampies. hair-pulling. clit slapping. overstimulation, mind break. doggy (backshots woohoo!), chain link, tower bridge. lots of aftercare and a happy + crack ending (thank you flix)
happy (early) birthday to the honoured dick one. the strongest in bed. i know his birthday is in december but i needed u all to read this right now. so enjoy nine thousand three hundered words of filth, from me to you, with all the love possible <3. i wrote female gojo with @/owwllly's version in mind, so please show them your love xx this has been my fav threesome fic to write!! dedicated to my pookie daph aka @curtins - there will be a part two !! there will be a part two !! there will be a part two !!
— general masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ series masterlist
"so you're telling me... this happened because you couldn’t mind your business?" you deadpan, arms crossed as you stare at two very identical gojo satoru’s in your living room. one of them is busy fiddling with infinity while the other is lounging on your couch like she owns the place — wolfcut, tight black turtleneck, and a smirk that could rival the original's arrogance.
“technically, i was minding my business,” the og gojo protests, leaning back against the wall with his usual, unbothered grin. “baby, ’s not my fault the curse decided to spice things up and give you, like, a bogo deal on me. you're welcome, by the way."
"bogo?" you repeat, staring at him blankly. "buy one, get one? 'toru, this isn’t a trip to the mall — this is a problem."
“problem?!” the female gojo pipes up, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “babe, this is a blessing. look at me — don’t i just scream perfection?” she runs her hands dramatically down her torso, pausing to cup her very impressive pair of tits. “and these? way better than whatever he’s working with.”
“hey!” the og gojo snaps, looking genuinely offended for once. “my pecs are great! they’re sculpted by gods!”
“oh please.” she waves him off, smirking. “you can bench press all ya want, but nothin' competes with these.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “great. now there’s two of you and you’re already competing with each other. this is exactly what my therapist warned me about.”
"your therapist doesn’t even know her," og gojo interjects, before muttering, "probably thinks i'm better."
“knows me?” the female gojo raises a brow, mimicking his exact tone. “honey, i am you — just hotter and with better hair.”
“oh, please, my hair is iconic —”
“only ‘cuz i have it now —”
“okay, shut up, both of you,” you groan, cutting through their bickering. “are we just ignoring the fact that this situation is insane? one of you is going to have to fix this. preferably him,” you gesture to your boyfriend, “because i’m sure as hell not trusting the version of you who discovered boobs for the first time an hour ago.”
"that’s fair,” female gojo shrugs. “i got distracted for a good ten minutes.”
“ten?” og gojo snorts. “please, i bet you’re still distracted.”
“better than looking like an overgrown snow cone —”
“that’s it!” you snap, cutting them off again. “you’re both sleeping on the floor until this gets fixed!”
they stare at you, identical smirks creeping onto their faces. the synchronization is downright creepy.
“what?” you snap.
“you mean we can’t sleep next to you?” female gojo teases, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “oh, baabbyy, don’t be like that. we’ll make it work. one on each side, warm and cozy…”
“dream on!” you yell, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at both of them.
despite your protests, you eventually settle into bed, burying yourself under the covers in hopes that sleep will somehow make this bizarre situation feel a little less insane in the morning. your boyfriend is sulking on the couch — he’s got that kicked puppy look down to a science, complete with dramatic sighs and pointed glances your way every time he fluffs the pillow. you ignore him. you deserve this break.
or at least, you thought you did.
the bed dips behind you, and you freeze, already knowing who it is before she even opens her mouth.
“hey,” female gojo whispers conspiratorially, her voice a softer, almost sultry version of your boyfriend’s usual annoying tone. “girl’s night, right? let’s talk about feelings and, like… skincare or whatever. isn’t that what girls do?”
“go back to the couch,” you mutter, trying not to sound as mortified as you feel.
“oh, come onnn,” she presses, shifting closer. “i’m technically you now. you, me, and him — we’re a team. solidarity and alla that.”
“team or not, you’re still satoru,” you grumble, rolling over to glare at her. “and you’re supposed to be fixing this, not playing barbie dreamhouse with my sanity.”
she gasps, clutching her chest as though you’d just gravely insulted her. “barbie dreamhouse? wow, honey, that’s just rude.”
you sigh, already exhausted, and roll back over, resolutely closing your eyes. “goodnight.”
except she doesn’t leave.
instead, she shuffles even closer, slipping under the covers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“what the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice muffled by your pillow.
“it’s called cuddling. girlhood, babe. embrace it.”
you groan, but it’s drowned out by the warmth of her pressing against your back, her arm draping over your waist like she’s done this a hundred times before. the touch is familiar — too familiar — but also distinctly… different. softer, almost delicate, but with that same satoru confidence you’ve grown used to.
you’re about to relax when — oh.
oh no.
that’s definitely her tits pressing against you.
“seriously?” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you shift uncomfortably.
“what?” she hums innocently, though you can practically hear the smirk in her tone. “they’re natural, by the way. in case you were wondering.”
you roll your eyes so hard they might fall out of your head. “get off me.”
“nah. you’re comfy.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“you love it,” she whispers, cuddling closer, her breath warm against the back of your neck.
meanwhile, from the couch, your boyfriend groans dramatically. “wooww, guess i’m not needed anymore! don’t mind me, just a lonely man being replaced by his better half!”
you groan louder this time, burying your face in the pillow. “i hate both of you.”
“you’ll get over it,” female gojo chirps.
you’re not so sure.
you drift into a restless sleep, but it’s not long before something — someone — pulls you back into a groggy haze. at first, you think it’s just the weight of her arm slung over your waist, the kind of innocent touch you’ve grown used to from satoru, only now softer, smaller.
but then you feel it: nimble fingers ghosting the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your skin with maddening lightness.
your eyes snap open, and before you can twist around, you hear her chuckle — a low, almost predatory sound.
"eaasy, babe," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear as she burrows closer, her chest flush against your back. "don’t wanna wake him, do you?"
your heart skips a beat, half from the sensation of her lips brushing the shell of your ear, half from the realization that your boyfriend is right down the hallway.
“what the hell are you doing?” you hiss, your voice barely audible, but it only makes her grin wider. you can’t see it, but you can feel it in the way her teeth graze your neck, her nose nuzzling against your skin.
“just havin’ a little fun,” she murmurs, her fingers dipping slightly lower, teasing. "you’re sooo uptight. ’s cute."
“stop,” you whisper, though your voice lacks the conviction you wish it had. you’re painfully aware of every point of contact — her fingers, her chest pressed against you, the way her legs tangle with yours like she’s been doing this forever.
“oh, come on,” she purrs, lips trailing a featherlight path up your neck. “you can pretend to hate this allll ya want, but she’s kinda telling a different story, babe.”
your breath catches as her fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, and you bite your lip to stifle a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
“shhhhh,” she teases, her voice dripping with amusement. “don’t wanna wake him. imagine the tantrum he’d throw.”
“'toru,” you snap in a whisper, barely managing to keep your voice steady, “you’re impossible.”
“she is impossible,” she corrects smugly, emphasizing the distinction. “and you love it.”
you squirm, trying to shift away, but it only earns you a low chuckle and a firmer hold around your waist.
“relax,” she coos, her fingers retreating just enough to drive you insane. “’m just here to keep ya company. whether that means getting a rise out of you or, y’know... edgin’ this pretty lil’ pussy for the rest of the night? your call.”
you swallow hard, caught between indignation and the way her touch sets your nerves on fire.
“make your choice, babe,” she whispers, her voice playful but laced with a dangerous edge.
“just try not to moan too loud. wouldn’t wanna give him ideas.”
you close your eyes, torn between cursing her and praying she doesn’t stop.
this night just got so much longer.
your brain is waging the ultimate war, a full-on battlefield of ethics versus… whatever this situation even is.
is it cheating if it’s your boyfriend’s hot female counterpart? technically, it’s still satoru, right? like, some weird multiverse loophole you could maybe rationalize later when guilt comes knocking.
but right now, the only thing knocking is your resolve, which is hanging by a thread as those nimble fingers dance along your clothed slit, teasing just enough to drive you to madness.
you bite down on your lip, a mix of frustration and need building as she leans in closer, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "you’re thinkin’ so loud, honey. wanna share with the class?”
“shut up,” you hiss, squirming as her fingers dip a little lower, just brushing the edge of your clothed clit.
she laughs softly, the sound rich and teasing, as if she’s enjoying how much you’re struggling. “ohhh, ya gonna give in, aren’t cha?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “ya so cute when you’re pretending to resist.”
your breathing hitches as she presses her palm against your clothed cunt, her fingers tracing delicate, torturous circles. it’s enough to make you curse the heavens for whatever cursed logic landed you here but also enough to make you moan softly despite yourself.
“fuck it,” you mutter under your breath, the words more to yourself than to her, and you stop fighting, letting her fingers dip inside your panties.
her grin is unmistakable — so much like satoru’s but with an edge of mischief that’s uniquely her own. “there she is,” she whispers, and her fingers find your clit, circling it with the kind of precision that makes your whole body tense.
“jesus christ,” you gasp, your hand shooting out to grip the sheets as she keeps her pace slow, deliberate, almost cruel in its teasing.
“nah,” she chuckles, her lips brushing against your neck, “just satoru. but you can scream my name later if ya want.”
you stifle a groan, your mind racing between indignation and the hot, electric sensation pooling low in your stomach.
“careful,” she teases, voice low and smug. “wouldn’t wanna wake him, would you? unless…” she pauses, fingers pressing a little harder, “...you want him to watch.”
you choke on a mix of a gasp and a protest, twisting slightly to glare at her, but the sharp look you’re going for is lost in the haze of heat clouding your brain.
“you’re the worst,” you manage to whisper, though it lacks any real bite.
“and yet, here you are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. “enjoying every second of it.”
she’s not wrong, and that realization alone might kill you.
you never thought you’d find yourself in a situation like this — not that you were opposed to the idea. women were great, truly a gift to the world.
but how many people could say they were being finger fucked by their boyfriend’s female counterpart? it was such a specific, cursedly unique predicament that you almost wanted to laugh.
almost.
if you weren’t too busy biting back a moan as her fingers worked you with an infuriating rhythm.
the obscene sounds were soft, but in the quiet of the room, they echoed like a symphony of sins you’d be reckoning with later. and when her other hand pressed against your lips, fingers tapping lightly, you didn’t even hesitate.
you took them into your mouth, sucking with enough fervor to have her humming appreciatively behind you.
“oh, you’re full of surprises,” she purred, her tone dripping with amusement. her nails — surprisingly manicured and oddly elegant — scraped against your tongue, and you felt a shiver crawl down your spine. “never took ya for someone with an oral fixation. should i be jealous of him?”
you glared up at her weakly, but it only made her grin grow wider.
“no need to get all pouty, baby,” she teased, pulling her hand away with a wet pop! before dragging her nails down the side of your face in mock affection. “you’re already givin' me plenty of attention.”
“you’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, your voice muffled by a moan as her fingers curled inside you just right, hitting a spot that made your legs tremble.
“and yet, here you are,” she countered smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “suckin' my fingers like you’re starved for it. but don’t worry pretty, i’ve got plenty to give.”
“oh my god,” you groaned, torn between mortification and the unbearable heat flooding your veins.
“close enough,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against your ear as her fingers continued their relentless, torturous pace. “but you can scream that louder later. just remember to keep it down for him, yeah? wouldn’t wanna give him a heart attack.”
as if on cue, you heard your boyfriend shift on the couch down the hallway, groaning in his sleep.
her grin pressed against your skin, smug as ever. “looks like we’re on a time limit. better make it count, babe.”
it’s almost like she wants to be caught.
you can feel it in the deliberate pace of her fingers, the smug curl of her lips pressed against your ear, and the way her voice dips just low enough to make you think she’s daring him to walk in.
what’s he gonna do, anyway? accuse you of cheating? on him?
with him?
the thought’s absurd, hilarious even, if not for the way your brain is too scrambled to dwell on it.
“you’re so tense,” she purrs, her tone that perfect mix of teasing and filth, her fingers quickening their pace with a precision that’s downright sinful. “relax, ma. you’re doing so well f’me.”
“sh-shut up,” you hiss, though it lacks conviction, your voice shaky and edged with desperation. the familiar, blinding heat in your stomach coils tighter, threatening to snap as her movements grow more deliberate.
but she doesn’t shut up — of course, she doesn’t.
“awww, don’t get shy on me now,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear as her lips ghost along your jawline. her words spill out like poison dipped in honey, filthy and deliberate.
“you’re sooo close, aren’t ya? can feel it, babe. you’re twitching around my fingers. think you’ll cum before he wakes up?”
you choke on a whimper, your head spinning as her words sink deep into your hazy mind. the wet, obscene shlick, shlick sounds of her fingers working you only makes it worse, the sound bouncing off the walls and mocking any remaining shred of dignity you have left.
“don’t fight it,” she coos, nipping lightly at your earlobe. “you wanna cum sooo bad. just do it, babe. be a good girl for me.”
the knot in your stomach pulls impossibly tight, her voice the final push as she angles her fingers just right, and you’re gone.
you tremble, your hands gripping the sheets like a lifeline as your release crashes through you in waves so intense that you’re outright whimpering. the sound spills out before you can bite it back, and she takes full advantage, her fingers slowing just enough to draw it out, prolonging your undoing.
“thaaat’s it,” she hums, satisfaction dripping from her voice. “good girl.”
you gasp for air, your body slack against hers as she finally pulls her hand away, leaving you boneless and dazed.
“see?” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, her tone still annoyingly smug. “told ya'd like it.”
before you can snap back, you hear a groan from the hallway — your boyfriend stirring on the couch.
“oops,” she whispers, her voice featherlight but laced with mischief as she leans closer to your ear. “think he heard that?”
⋆˙⟡ —
gojo was not having it.
being sentenced to the couch while he — or she — got to hog your warmth? outrageous.
what kind of half-assed excuse was "girl’s night" anyway? he was the epitome of versatility! gender fluidity incarnate! hell, he’d rock a pair of heels better than most and still kick ass.
he rolled onto his back with a huff, staring at the ceiling and debating his next move.
screw it. he wasn’t about to let himself — herself — win. this was his girlfriend, damn it.
with a frustrated groan, he dragged himself off the couch, trudging down the hallway. barefoot and irritated, he rehearsed what he’d say as he barged in, fully intent on dragging her ass out and reclaiming his rightful spot in your bed.
but the second he opened the door, all those thoughts evaporated.
his jaw dropped, his cerulean eyes widening behind the curtain of his disheveled hair.
there you were, his sweet, pliant girlfriend, lying there with your head tilted back, cheeks flushed, and lips wrapped around fem gojo’s fingers.
and the smell — fuck, the smell of you hung thick in the air, so sweet and heady it made his knees damn near buckle. it hit him like a freight train, and with it came a mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to untangle: shock, irritation, a twinge of jealousy, and, much to his own annoyance, arousal.
“are you serious right now?” his voice rang out, low and sharp, cutting through the quiet of the room.
you froze, your eyes snapping open as you turned to look at him. fem gojo, on the other hand, smirked, her fingers lazily slipping out of your mouth with an exaggerated pop!
“oh, hey,” she drawled, utterly unbothered by his presence. “took ya long enough.”
“what the hell is this?” he gestured vaguely at the two of you, his gaze bouncing between your guilty expression and her smug one.
“girl’s night,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone so casual it made his eye twitch.
“girl’s night?” he repeated, his voice climbing an octave. “girl’s night doesn’t include —” he waved his hands, “ —whatever this is!”
“reelaxx, dude,” she cooed, sitting up slightly but still keeping one possessive hand on your thigh. “you’re overreacting.”
“overreacting?!”
you flinched at his tone, but she didn’t budge, only grinning wider.
“jealous, are we?” she teased, leaning back into the pillows like she owned the place. “don’t worry, there’s plenty of her to go around.”
his jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “you think this is funny?”
“a little,” she admitted, cocking her head. “but it’s fun when you’re mad.”
he stormed over to the bed, yanking the covers off with dramatic flair.
“get out,” he demanded, pointing toward the door.
“make me,” she challenged, her grin growing downright wicked.
oh, that was it.
“fine,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “you wanna play games? let’s play.”
in one swift motion, he was crawling onto the bed, caging both of you in with his presence. his gaze flicked to you, burning and possessive, before turning back to her.
“you started this,” he growled, “so you better keep up.”
she raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh, i’ll keep up.”
you swallowed hard, caught between their clashing egos and the growing heat simmering between the three of you.
this was about to get very interesting.
his hand clamps around your neck before you can even register what’s happening, yanking you into his lap like you weigh nothing. the surprised squeal that escapes your lips is muffled instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours in a kiss so sloppy, so overwhelming, it leaves you gasping. his tongue dominates yours, hot and unrelenting, and you barely have time to catch your breath before he pulls away, his next words like a slap to your dignity.
“you’re such a fuckin' mess,” he growls, his free hand coming down sharply on your ass with a loud smack!, the sting sends a jolt through you, and your body involuntarily arches against him. “lettin' her get her hands allll over you like a desperate little slut.”
you whimper, the sound earning a low, derisive laugh from him as he lands another smack!, his hand squeezing the soft flesh just to watch it jiggle.
“you like that, huh?” he sneers, his grip tightening around your neck just enough to make your head spin. “bet you’re fuckin' soaked, aren’t cha? letting anyone who’ll touch you have a go. pathetic.”
“not anyone,” fem gojo pipes up from her spot on the bed, her voice laced with amusement. “just me. well, technically you. so you’ve only got yourself to blame, babe.”
he shoots her a glare, his lips curling into a snarl, but she doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. in fact, she looks downright entertained, one hand lazily palming her tits through her shirt, her grin smug as she watches the scene unfold.
“don’t mind me,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “’m just enjoyin' the view. gotta say, though, you’ve got good taste.”
you shudder at the low hum in her voice, your face burning as her gaze flicks to where your body presses against his, her smirk deepening.
“shut up,” he snaps, his hand sliding down to your hip to yank you harder against him. “this is my show now.”
“oh, by all means,” she chuckles, leaning back on her elbows as her fingers toy her nipples. “don’t let me stop you. though, technically, this is still me giving her what she wants.”
he growls, his grip on you tightening as he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes narrowing. “you’re mine,” he hisses, the words like a brand against your skin. “doesn’t matter what fucking form i’m in. you get that?”
you nod weakly, your body trembling as his other hand lands another sharp smack! to your ass, drawing a coo of delight from his female counterpart.
“good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours before claiming them again, rough and punishing.
“now, let’s see if you can prove it.”
“oh, this is getting good,” fem gojo says with a delighted laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she settles in to watch the show — completely unbothered and clearly relishing every second of it.
⋆˙⟡ —
you’re losing it. outright losing it.
it was bad enough when gojo insisted on doing you in front of the mirror, forcing you to watch as he destroyed every last shred of your dignity.
but this? this was next level.
having someone else watch — and not just anyone, but the female version of him, sitting there with that same smug smirk plastered across her face as she enjoyed the show — this wasn’t on your bingo card for the year.
and yet, you couldn’t lie to yourself. the heat pooling between your legs was unmistakable, your slick soaking through the fabric of your panties and seeping onto his clothed crotch. the mess you were making was evident, each grind against him creating an obscene wet sound that seemed to echo in the room.
“oh, babe,” fem gojo moaned, her head tilting back as her hands finally slid under her shirt, teasing the plush swell of her chest. “are ya sure you’re not doin' this f'me? ‘cause this is better than any mirror show.”
“shut it,” male gojo snapped, his lips pulling away from yours, a string of spit connecting you as he shot her a glare. “you’re lucky i haven’t kicked your ass out yet.”
“please,” she purred, rolling her nipples between her fingers with a soft moan, her smirk growing wider. “you’re not kicking me out of anything. besides —” her gaze flicked to you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, “ — she doesn’t seem to mind me being here. do you, pretty?”
you whimpered, the humiliation and arousal swirling together in a heady cocktail that made it impossible to think straight.
“answer her,” male gojo growled, his hand sliding down to grab your ass, forcing you to grind harder against him. “or are you too dumb to use your words?”
“i — i —” your voice broke into a soft moan, your hands clutching his shoulders for support as you buried your face in his neck, unable to meet her eyes.
“look at you,” she cooed, her voice dripping with amusement. “such a good girl, falling apart like that. and here i thought you were the composed one.”
“don’t get used to it,” male gojo bit out, yanking you back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark and commanding. “you’re mine, got it? doesn’t matter if it’s her or me watching. you’re still only ever gonna fall apart for me.”
“you’re so possessive,” fem gojo teased, her voice laced with mockery as her hands continued their lazy exploration under her shirt. “'s cute, honestly. but you can’t deny it’s a little hot watching her fall apart like that.”
“you really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he snapped, but the irritation in his voice was edged with something else, something darker, like her words were getting to him too.
“oh, i know when,” she said with a sultry grin, her fingers tweaking her nipples with a sharp intake of breath. “but where’s the fun in that?”
you gasped as his hips jerked up against you, the friction sending another wave of heat through your already overstimulated body.
“don’t get any ideas,” he growled, his attention snapping back to you, his grip tightening on your hips. “you’re not done until i say you are.”
“god,” fem gojo moaned softly, her hands sliding down her cunt as she watched you both. “if this is how you treat her in front of me, i can’t imagine what you’re like when you’ve got her all to yourself.”
her words only seemed to spur him on, his lips crashing into yours again, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away just enough to whisper against your mouth.
“don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “we’ll make sure she knows exactly what it feels like to belong to both of us.”
the promise in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and the look in fem gojo’s eyes made it clear she had no intention of being a passive observer for long.
clothes hit the floor — or in your case, were outright shredded by your boyfriend’s impatient hands. the sound of ripping fabric and your startled gasp barely registered over the muffled curses coming from fem gojo, who was too distracted fumbling with her own shirt, her needy arousal making her hands clumsy.
“damn it,” she muttered under her breath, finally managing to toss her shirt aside. “you’d think i’d be good at undressing myself by now.”
“could’ve fooled me,” male gojo quipped with a sharp grin, not even glancing her way as he manhandled you into position. “i could’ve stripped you in two seconds flat.”
“yeah, yeah,” she shot back, rolling her eyes as her shorts hit the floor. “maybe i wanted to take my time.”
he didn’t reply. instead, his hands clamped down on your waist, and before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself being flung off his lap. you landed on your stomach, a surprised cry escaping your lips as your face ended up inches away from fem gojo’s already glistening cunt.
the sweet, heady scent of her arousal flooded your senses, making your head spin.
“oh?” she cooed, leaning back on her elbows and spreading her legs a little wider, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “is this your way of apologizing? putting her in prime position f'me?”
“shut up,” male gojo snapped, his voice sharp as his hands gripped your hips again, pulling them up so your ass was in the air. “she’s here to learn who she belongs to.”
“sure,” fem gojo said, clearly unconvinced as her fingers trailed teasingly along the inside of her thighs. “and if she just so happens to learn how to make me feel good in the process, well, that’s just a bonus, hm?”
you whimpered, your mind spinning as you tried to ground yourself, but the sharp snap of your boyfriend’s hips against you derailed every coherent thought.
“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” he hissed, his pace unrelenting as he pounded into you from behind. “ya so quiet now. where’s all that pretty whinin' you were doing earlier?”
“h-her mouth’s busy,” fem gojo chimed in with a laugh, her hand sliding into your hair to guide your face closer to her. “or at least, it should be. come on, ma. show me what ya got.”
you hesitated, your face burning with a mix of humiliation and arousal, but a sharp smack! on your ass from male gojo left you gasping.
“don’t keep her waiting,” he growled, jealousy dripping from every word as his nails dug into your skin. “you were so eager to let her touch you before. let’s see how you like being used.”
“god,” fem gojo moaned softly as your tongue tentatively flicked over her slick folds, the taste of her flooding your senses. “she’s so good, isn’t she?”
he scoffed, his thrusts growing harsher, each one making your body jolt forward against her. “she’s good because i made her that way,” he bit out, his voice low and possessive. “don’t forget who she comes back to every night.”
“we’ll see about that,” she teased, her fingers tightening in your hair as her hips rolled against your mouth. “if she keeps this up, she might be spending a few more nights with me instead.”
“over my dead body,” he snarled, his hand reaching around to toy with your clit, the rough circles of his fingers sending shockwaves through your body.
you whimpered against her, the vibrations drawing a shuddering gasp from her lips.
“oh, fuck,” she moaned, her head tilting back as her free hand slid up to tweak her nipple. “you’re gonna make me cum, babe. keep goin' —don’t stop.”
male gojo’s hand tightened on your hip, his rhythm faltering slightly as he let out a low, guttural growl.
“she’s not coming for you,” he spat, leaning down until his chest was flush against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “she’s coming because of me.”
“whatever you need to tell yourself,” fem gojo panted, her voice laced with amusement and ecstasy as her hips bucked against your face. “but we both know who she’s really falling apart for right now.”
your thoughts were spiraling. absolutely spiraling.
how the hell were you supposed to explain this?
my boyfriend’s giving me the most insane backshots of my life while i’m eating out the female version of him.
except… she wasn’t just “him” anymore. she was her, right? so does that make her your girlfriend? was it cheating? was it some weird alternate-universe poly thing?
“ugh, no time to think,” you muttered under your breath, your words muffled as you dragged your tongue along fem gojo’s slit.
“what’s that, sweetheart?” fem gojo purred, her hand tightening in your hair as her thighs quivered under your grip. “don’t stop on my account. you’re doing so good.”
“oh, don’t stroke her ego,” male gojo snapped, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that had your entire body jolting forward, your face pressing impossibly closer to fem gojo’s dripping cunt. “she’s not that good yet.”
“jealous much?” fem gojo teased, her voice lilting and smug as she rolled her hips against your mouth. “she’s got me riiight on the edge, babe. maybe you should let her focus instead of barking orders like you’re the only one who matters here.”
“focus?” he sneered, leaning down until his chest was pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “she’s too busy falling apart to focus. look at her — her hands are shaking.”
you whimpered at his words, your hands trembling as you tried your best to keep fem gojo’s thighs spread wide.
“awwww, baby,” she cooed, her fingers stroking your hair gently, a stark contrast to the vulgar praise spilling from her lips. “don’t listen to him. you’re doing amazing. so eager, so pliant — just like i knew you’d be.”
“pliant, huh?” male gojo growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “is that what you think this is? you think she’s here for you?”
“she’s here for both of us,” fem gojo shot back, her smirk widening as she tugged your hair, forcing you to look up at her. “right, babe? tell him how much you like making me feel good.”
you tried to answer, but the words were swallowed up by a moan as male gojo’s hand snaked around to rub tight, merciless circles against your clit.
“she doesn’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice low and dark, laced with jealousy. “her body’s doing allll the talkin'. look at the mess she’s making.”
“maybe that’s because you’re being so rough,” fem gojo said, rolling her eyes even as her thighs trembled against your face.
“or maybe —” her voice dropped, dripping with faux sweetness as her smirk turned wicked, “ — it’s 'cause she likes me better.”
that set him off.
with a low, guttural growl, he pulled you back sharply, forcing you to arch against him as he slammed into you with a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
“say it,” he demanded, his voice rough as his fingers dug into your hips. “tell her who you belong to.”
“oh, don’t make her choose,” fem gojo said, her tone mockingly sweet. “she’s doin' so well for both of us. aren’t cha, babe?”
you whimpered, your mind too clouded with pleasure to form a coherent response, and she laughed, low and sultry, her fingers sliding along your jaw to tilt your slick-covered face up.
“poor thing,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. “don’t worry. you don’t have to pick. we’ll just take turns.”
male gojo’s hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to meet his blazing gaze.
“no,” he growled, his jealousy boiling over as his hips snapped against yours. “she’s mine.”
“ours,” fem gojo corrected, her voice smug as she ran her tongue along your flushed cheek, laughing when he snarled in response.
“dream on,” he spat, his possessiveness evident in every word, every movement, every sharp thrust.
and you? you were somewhere in the middle of it all, lost in the overwhelming heat of them, the push and pull of their jealousy, their praise, their relentless need to claim you.
⋆˙⟡ —
the room at two in the morning was a symphony of chaos and filth, the soundtrack of your life choices. gojo’s low muttering against his breath, some mix of cocky praise and jealous snarling, occasionally punctuated with a sharp smack! to your ass. your muffled whimpers and gasps as your face stayed buried between fem gojo’s legs, and her breathy, high-pitched praises as she tugged on your hair like she owned you.
“thaaat’s it, babe,” fem gojo cooed, her fingers tightening in your hair. “s'good f'me, aren’t cha? suuccch a good girl.”
wait, hold on. fem gojo pulling your hair? wasn’t that supposed to be a boyfriend gojo thing?
before your brain could unravel that disturbing yet arousing conundrum, she yanked hard, pulling your face impossibly closer. your nose pressed rudely against her clit, and the sudden pressure had her legs trembling around your head.
“oh — fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whimpered, her usually smug voice cracking as her hips bucked involuntarily.
and then it happened.
you barely had time to process her thighs clamping down around your ears, muffling everything but the obscene sounds of her unraveling. warm liquid gushed against your lips, your chin, even dribbling down your neck, as fem gojo outright squirted.
“oh my god,” you thought, frozen in shock even as your boyfriend’s hips snapped sharply into yours again, jarring you forward for what felt like the millionth time tonight.
“holy shit,” male gojo muttered, his voice equal parts awe and irritation as he caught sight of his counterpart’s unrestrained climax. “you fuckin' squirted? that’s my thing!”
fem gojo, still coming down from her high, let out a breathless laugh, her legs falling limp as she sprawled back on the bed.
“looks like your girl’s a fast learner,” she teased, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.
“learner, my ass,” he shot back, a sharp thrust making you moan against fem gojo’s overstimulated folds. “i trained her to be this good.”
“uh-huh,” fem gojo drawled lazily, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. “then why’d she just make me squirt first? sounds like she’s got a natural talent you couldn’t teach.”
“shut up,” he growled, his pace picking up as he slammed into you harder, clearly trying to reassert dominance.
you, meanwhile, were somewhere between mortification and pride.
first time eating someone out, and they squirted. that was definitely going on the mental highlight reel of your life — even if it was your boyfriend’s female counterpart.
you figured you might as well keep going with fem gojo. after all, your boyfriend had the stamina of a goddamn bull and a petty streak longer than your to-do list. no way he was letting you off easy after everything tonight.
lucky you, though — he’d also trained you well enough to cum at the same time as him. how lovely.
…ignoring the fact that your current position was utterly humiliating. your back arched up so prettily, your face now smooshed between fem gojo’s outrageously, illegally hot rack.
“suck,” she demanded, her voice dripping with the same playful authority you usually heard from your boyfriend, but with a distinctly feminine lilt that had you shivering.
“oh, don’t act like you’re in charge,” gojo snapped from behind you, his thrusts growing sharper as if to punctuate his annoyance. “you’re just here for the ride.”
“and you’re here throwing a tantrum,” fem gojo shot back, her smirk evident in her tone as her hands pressed you deeper into her chest. “you’re the one that left her unsupervised.”
you barely registered their bickering. your head was swimming, lost in the overwhelming heat of fem gojo’s body and the relentless rhythm of your boyfriend behind you. your tongue flicked over her hardened nipple, drawing a satisfied gasp from her lips as she arched into you.
“good giirrl,” fem gojo purred, her fingers threading through your hair again, keeping your face buried against her. “you’re learning so fast.”
“don’t praise her for that!” gojo barked, his voice tinged with frustration even as he groaned, his hips snapping against yours. “she’s mine, not yours, so quit actin' like ya got a claim on her!”
“if she’s yours, then why’s she so eager to listen to me?” fem gojo teased, her breath hitching as your tongue swirled around her sensitive nipple.
“you wanna see who she listens to?” he growled, leaning over you as his hand snaked around your waist, his fingers circling your clit in quick, punishing strokes.
that did it. the tension coiling low in your stomach snapped, and you came with a muffled cry against fem gojo’s chest, your whole body trembling as pleasure washed over you.
at the same time, gojo’s hips stuttered against yours, his grip tightening as he groaned through gritted teeth, spilling into you with one last deep thrust.
the room fell silent except for your ragged breathing and fem gojo’s low chuckle as she trailed her fingers through your hair.
“aww,” she cooed, her voice dripping with amusement. “looks like we both won, huh?”
“we?” gojo barked, glaring at her over your back. “you’re lucky i didn’t kick your ass out of this bed halfway through.”
“lucky?” she repeated, her smirk widening as she leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “please, babe. i’ve got her attention. you’re just here to keep things interesting.”
gojo had had enough. sure, he’d made you see stars, made you fall apart on his dick like he always did. and yeah, he’d just had his own finish, but that didn’t matter.
he was greedy. always greedy.
his icy blue eyes darted to fem gojo, still lounging smugly with that shit-eating grin plastered across her pretty face. oh, he hated seeing his own smugness reflected like that.
“alright,” he huffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair before cracking his neck. “you wanna play games? fine. hold her for me.”
“oh?” fem gojo purred, clearly intrigued, though she raised an eyebrow. “what’s this now?”
“don’t ask questions, just do it,” he snapped, his tone sharp but impatient.
to your surprise — and maybe horror — fem gojo complied, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you back against her chest, locking you in place.
“good,” gojo muttered, his gaze dropping to your already trembling body. his lips quirked into a devilish smirk as he cracked his knuckles.
“now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice saccharine and low as he leaned down to meet your wide-eyed gaze, “you’re gonna give me six more. f'good luck. for my six eyes. makes sense, right?”
“s-six?” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you squirmed in fem gojo’s hold.
“don’t pass out before number three, okay?” fem gojo chimed in, her breath tickling your ear as she pressed a playful kiss to your temple.
“oh, she won’t,” gojo assured her, his tone all cocky confidence as his fingers found your oversensitive clit, circling it slowly, almost mockingly. “i’ve trained her too well for that.”
“you’re insane,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his movements picked up, sending shockwaves through your overstimulated body.
“and you love it,” he shot back, grinning as your hips bucked involuntarily.
“she’s already shakin',” fem gojo mused, her hands holding you firmly in place as you writhed in her grip. “think she can even make it to six?”
“she’ll make it,” gojo said confidently, his fingers dipping lower to press inside you.
you let out a strangled moan, your body arching against fem gojo as she held you tighter.
“one down,” gojo teased as you convulsed around his fingers, your first orgasm ripping through you with humiliating ease.
“just five more, baby,” fem gojo cooed, brushing her lips against your ear. “think ya cunt can handle it?”
you didn’t have the breath to answer, already lost in the haze of pleasure and anticipation as gojo smirked down at you.
“don’t worry,” he murmured, sliding his fingers out only to replace them with his cock, the stretch sending your mind reeling.
“we’ve got allll night.”
⋆˙⟡ —
the first rays of the sun filtered into your room, casting soft golden streaks across the absolute battlefield that was your bed. clothes were long forgotten, scattered along with the remnants of your once-organized collection of sex toys — all strewn haphazardly on the mattress and floor, evidence of what you’d been subjected to.
but you couldn’t exactly reflect on the mess, not when your mind was lost in the fog of overstimulation.
your body dangled limply in fem gojo’s strong, steady arms, her breath warm against your ear as she held you upright. your head lolled back against her shoulder, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your boyfriend once again set a punishing rhythm with his hips.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice rough from hours of exertion but no less smug. “what number are we on now?”
you tried to answer, you really did, but all that came out was a broken, incoherent moan, your voice cracking as your legs trembled helplessly.
“what was that?” fem gojo teased, her laughter soft and melodic as she adjusted her grip on you, her fingers brushing over your slick, sweat-dampened skin. “i think she lost count. did we hit six or are we on nine?”
“definitely nine,” gojo declared, grinning as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “but she can’t keep up. guess i’ll just have to count for her.”
you whined, barely able to lift your arms, let alone argue.
“poor thing,” fem gojo cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as her lips trailed along your neck. “bet her brain’s all mush now. aren’t ya, pretty?”
you whimpered in response, your body shuddering as another wave of pleasure surged through you, leaving you gasping and clutching at fem gojo’s arms for support.
“look at that,” your boyfriend said with a chuckle, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you closer. “she’s still got some fight in her.”
“for now,” fem gojo quipped, smirking as she nuzzled into your hair.
“but i think we’ve got her for a few more rounds before she taps out.”
“good,” gojo muttered, his pace quickening as his grin widened. “’m not done yet.”
⋆˙⟡ —
you should’ve known better. should’ve known better than to assume fem gojo would let up.
sure, she’d been lounging lazily for a while, playing her role as the smug spectator while her male counterpart relentlessly worked you over. but the thing about gojo — male or female — was that patience wasn’t exactly their virtue.
“y’know,” fem gojo began, her tone as sweet as honey but laced with mischief as she propped her chin on your shoulder, her lips brushing against your ear. “i think we should switch things up for the finale.”
“finale?” you rasped, your voice hoarse and barely audible, every muscle in your body trembling from the sheer exertion.
“yeeaah, finale,” fem gojo purred, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thighs as she glanced up at her male counterpart, who raised a curious brow. “we’ve been so focused on her. don’t you think it’s time she gives you some love, hmm?”
gojo smirked, catching on immediately. “oh? you’re suggesting somethin'?”
“just an idea,” she said with a shrug, though her grin was positively wicked. “how about she thanks you properly? y’know, with her mouth.”
your head snapped up weakly, eyes wide. “wait —”
“shhhh, sweetheart,” fem gojo cooed, pressing a finger to your lips. “’s only fair, don’t cha think? he’s worked so hard.”
“exactly,” gojo chimed in, already moving to position himself over you, his knees framing your chest as he settled on the bed. “you should thank me.”
before you could protest — or muster the energy to protest — you felt fem gojo’s hands on your thighs, spreading them apart with ease.
“and while you’re doing that,” she murmured, her breath warm against your inner thighs as she lowered herself between them, “i’ll take care of this pretty little cunt. sound good?”
you didn’t even have the chance to respond before her tongue was on you, dragging a loong, languid stripe up your soaked folds that made your back arch off the bed.
“shit,” you gasped, your hands clutching at the pillows beneath your head as your boyfriend smirked down at you.
“open up, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he cupped your jaw, guiding you to take him into your mouth.
you whimpered, your lips parting obediently as he slid inside, the weight of him on your tongue making your eyes flutter shut.
“thaaat’s it,” he praised, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate motions. “such a good girl f'me.”
beneath him, fem gojo was working you over with the precision of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. her tongue flicked against your clit, her lips wrapping around it to suck softly before diving back down, licking and lapping at you like a woman starved.
“god, you taste so good,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your folds as she gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place. “i could do this all day.”
your muffled moans vibrated around your boyfriend’s cock, making him groan as he tangled his fingers in your hair.
“fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back as his movements quickened. “you’re gonna make me lose it, baby.”
the combination of sensations — the weight of your boyfriend in your mouth, the relentless pace of fem gojo’s tongue — was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once again.
“don’t pass out on us now,” fem gojo teased, her voice laced with amusement as she felt you clench around nothing, your body trembling violently. “you’ve got one more in you, don’tcha, sweetheart?”
you weren’t sure how you’d survive this, but as your boyfriend’s groans grew louder and fem gojo’s ministrations became even more fervent, you realized there was no escaping it.
you were completely at their mercy, and god, you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.
the room was chaos, pure and utter chaos. the obscene mix of sounds — gojo’s low groans, your muffled gags, and fem gojo’s pleased hums — was almost too much for your fried brain to process.
you thought you were doing pretty well, honestly. your boyfriend’s usual sarcasm and taunting remarks had been steadily replaced by breathy curses and groans of approval.
“fuck, baby,” he muttered, his hand in your hair guiding you at a steady pace. “you’re so damn good at this — shit, look at you, taking me so well —”
you felt a flicker of pride at that, the kind that came with knowing you were completely wrecking him. but fem gojo? oh, she had other plans.
“aww, don’t forget 'bout me,” she chimed, her voice dripping with amusement as she leaned down, her breath warm against your oversensitive core. “can’t have you hogging all the fun, can we?”
before you could even process her words, her hand came down, a sharp slap! landing square on your clit.
the jolt of pleasure-pain tore a strangled sound from your throat — a sound that unfortunately turned into a gag as your body jerked in surprise, taking your boyfriend deeper than you ever had before.
“holy shit,” gojo choked out, his hips snapping forward instinctively as your throat spasmed around him. “fuck fuck fuck — wait! —”
too late. the sudden sensation was too much for him to handle, and with a low, guttural groan, he came, hot and thick down your throat.
“good — hah — girl,” he panted, his grip on your hair tightening as he rode out his high, his chest heaving. “goddamn — you’re perfect.”
but you barely had time to process his words before your body betrayed you again. fem gojo had taken full advantage of your momentary distraction, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you right to the edge — and then push you right over it.
“there it is,” she cooed as your thighs tensed around her head, her tongue still lapping at you eagerly. “god, you’re so pretty when you lose it.”
and lose it, you did. with a loud cry muffled by the aftermath of your boyfriend’s climax, you came, harder than you ever had before. the intense wave of pleasure ripped through you, your slick gushing out in a way that left both you and fem gojo absolutely stunned.
“well, well,” fem gojo murmured, pulling back just enough to wipe her soaked face with the back of her hand, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. “looks like we’re even now, huh?”
gojo’s dazed expression quickly turned smug as he caught his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair. “a squirt for a squirt?” he quipped, his grin sharp as he looked between the two of you. “not bad, sweetheart. i’m almost impressed.”
you groaned, your face burning as you buried it in the nearest pillow, both mortified and completely spent.
“aw, don’t get shy now,” fem gojo teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your thigh. “you did so well. maybe next time, i’ll let you return the favor properly.”
“next time?” you croaked, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
“of course,” she said with a wink, already sitting up and stretching like she hadn’t just been part of the most insane night of your life. “you don’t think this is a one-time thing, do you?”
gojo groaned, flopping onto the bed beside you with a lazy grin. “oh, definitely not,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair. “you’re stuck with both of us now, babe.”
and judging by the way they both looked at you — smug, teasing, and entirely too pleased with themselves — you knew you were in for a long ride.
you were done.
like, stick-a-fork-in-you done.
lying there in a dazed mess of tangled sheets and sore limbs, your legs were trembling so hard you swore you could start a minor earthquake. you didn’t even have the strength to bat an eye as male gojo leaned over you, brushing away the strands of hair plastered to your forehead with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness.
“baby, you good?” he asked, a rare note of genuine concern lacing his voice.
“does she look good to you?” fem gojo cut in, lounging nearby with a towel draped over her shoulder. she reached for your pussy tentatively, only for you to weakly swat her hand away.
“don’t you dare.” your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it still made her chuckle.
“relax, i’m just kidding!… mostly,” she added with a wink, settling back as male gojo shot her a glare.
“she’s off-limits right now,” he said firmly, tossing a bottle of water onto the bed. “here, drink. if she passes out, it’s your fault.”
you groaned, rolling your eyes but still accepting the water with shaky hands. “like it’s just her fault,” you mumbled, earning a sheepish grin from him.
“you’re right, babe,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “but, c’mon. twelve orgasms? i mean, that’s a record, right? a feat of human engineering, honestly.”
fem gojo scoffed, sitting up to stretch. “please, if i wasn’t here, she wouldn’t have made it past six. you’re welcome, by the way.”
“you’re welcome for the stamina training i gave her,” he shot back, sticking out his tongue.
“both of you, shut up,” you groaned, dragging the towel over your face. “my entire body feels like jelly, and if one of you so much as breathes near me, i’m out the window.”
“she’s spicy when she’s exhausted,” fem gojo murmured with a smirk, tossing her head back dramatically. “fine, fine. i’ll behave.”
for now.
male gojo wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you against his chest as fem gojo slid in on your other side. “we’ll take care of you,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“mmm,” was all you could muster, melting into his warmth despite yourself.
“you’re amazing, y’know that?” fem gojo whispered, brushing a hand over your hair. “an absolute goddess. we’re lucky to have you.”
you snorted weakly. “oh, now you’re sweet.”
“only ‘cause you look like you’ve been through a war,” she teased.
male gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice softening. “but seriously, babe. if we went too far —”
“you think?” you interrupted, cracking open one eye to glare at him.
“okay, fair. but we’ll make it up to you. promise.”
fem gojo hummed in agreement, already grabbing a nearby lotion bottle. “massages, snacks, cuddles. whatever you need.”
and for once, they actually seemed serious. no teasing, no ulterior motives — just two ridiculously hot versions of your boyfriend determined to take care of you.
maybe having both of them wasn’t so bad… as long as you kept fem gojo’s hands away from certain places.
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The enormity of my desire (disgusts me),
Very very early seasons (1 — start of 2) Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader
SMUT!! (and fluff, some angst in relation to Spencer’s past because it can never be too happy, we’re not allowed nice things here). first times & explorations of intimacy.
──── autistic spencer (it’s a central theme to the plot), reader is actually morally good (for once).
Warnings: sub spencer (what did u even expect?), heavy corruption kink, first time for Spencer (all i do is sit around and think about how i’d like to devirgin that genius), HEAAVY praise kink, very very inexperienced Spencer, slight? oral fixation, they’re both just rlly down bad (i told u i would write something light, i delivered), Reader is whipped, Spencer is sooo much worse. Biblical references, Religious imagery, i think i talk about math equations???? And random metaphors/complexes.
w.c: 4k
a/n: i rlly wanted to explore aspects of spencer that criminal minds swept under the rug (cough cough his undiagnosed autism, cough cough his social exclusion, cough cough his crippling fear of forever being alone). Next upload will prob be heavy angst/no smut post-prison spencer (god help me please, i must be a masochist for the way i make myself suffer)
───────────────
There’s a lot Spencer hasn’t done.
He knows he’s behind, that he never quite caught up when it came to the taboo of sex and intimacy. Everything, everything, he’s ever had has been centred around exclusion, alienation, he feels like he’s lived on pause. Frozen, never advancing, stuck on ‘go’. Touch isn’t easy for him, interpersonal relationships are worse. He’s different, god he’s heard that his entire life. ‘You’re not weird, you’re just… different’, but maybe he is weird. Maybe his whole existence is just one big cosmic fuck you, because he’s missed out on so much, so much that he can’t understand, comprehend, act out against. Falling behind; this is the only area of life where he continuously comes up short, inexperienced, naive, he’s not used to being incompetent.
He’s never experienced want the way others do. He could never just hook up, fall into the body of another, expose them to the vulnerable elements of his stature. Open himself up to scrutiny. He might be a genius, he might be intellectually advanced, accepted into a multitude of ivy leagues before he was old enough to vote, but there’s drawbacks to his success. Social awkwardness, an inability to blend, mould, be one of the crowd. Sometimes he wishes he was average, something grey and mundane, so far reduced from the person he is now— it would all be plainly simple.
But he’s not, he’s not. So, this is the weight he has to bare for the brain he never asked for.
Pyrrhic victory, he’ll always be renowned for his intelligence. ‘You’re going to change the world kid,’ maybe, but simultaneously, he’ll never get to experience said world. There’s a chance he’ll always be on the outside, watching normal people gravitate towards each other. Live dreary lives of domesticated simplicity. Stacked bills, arguments over money and parenting techniques. Going to bed angry, only to turn around, mid-night, and resolve it, to not sleep on bad blood. To take them off the couch, to settle into predestined sides of the mattress.
There’s not enough possessions in the world he’d sacrifice just to experience love.
Hedgehog dilemma, the challenges of human intimacy. The hedgehogs want to move closer, to preserve heat during cold. But, they are forced, biologically cursed to remain apart, in order to prevent themselves from harming each other. Spencer doesn’t want to be hurt, to hurt, it’s a morbid byproduct of his upbringing; all he ever endured was mockery.
He thought he’d never get to experience the physical, carnal aspects of existence. And sure, he made peace with the notion, accepted the consequences of being born atypical. Learnt to live without.
But then, oh then there was you. Pretty, intellectual you who quite literally tipped his world on it’s axis. Upheaved the most stable of routines. New to the BAU, he wanted you to last. To stay around, endure the worst of the job. If only for his selfish benefit of orbiting in your presence.
He remembers how it all started: Detroit, another case, more budget cuts, forced proximity that sent you spiralling into a shared bed for the night.
“You’re my favourite person in the team.” you admitted, “And I know that’s dumb, because we’ve spoken the least, but… you’re just, so you. That’s a good thing by the way, a really really good thing.”
He couldn’t quite believe you were talking about him. Spencer, who spilt coffee, and slipped into ceaseless tangents about obscure information. Spencer, who walked into walls when you were around, stumbling over his sentences before deftly, very astutely, giving up, walking away mid-conversation. He wore sweater-vests and colourful mismatched socks, it’s not like he was going to be crowned ‘white boy of the month’.
“Not dumb.” Spencer had responded, shifting closer to tangle further into the warm mess of this accidental situation. “That’s good. I like being me.” he mumbled. “Sometimes…. sometimes it sucks. But that’s okay. I think it’s okay?”
He moved to press his face into the crook of your neck, but you were faster, gathering him by tousled hair, forcing him to look you in the eye.
Oh.
“Please. Please.” he whispered, breaking apart, fracturing, “Please like me. And more than in a weird, ‘just friends or coworkers’ way.”
You did. You do. He should’ve kissed you then, but maybe he was scared, maybe he couldn’t quite discern his feelings, separate the logic from the emotional. So he waited, waited, waited until now. Your third date, you take him to an exhibition within a science centre: replica models of the solar system, filling rooms up, papier-mâché sculptures illuminated by light.
Best date ever. You listen, even when he’s rambling about planets, when he’s pointing out that yes, Jupiter’s density is less than water. That, technically, it would float in a bathtub, if one was built to accommodate its size. You don’t care that he’s not exactly the staple-piece for conventionally attractive males. That he’s nerdish, and awkward, and so so inexperienced when it comes to this.
In his apartment, later, much later, he looks at you, looks at you like you’re the one who just solved the fucking Riemann hypothesis.
“What do you want the most? Like,… if you could ask for one thing.” you say, and god, Spencer loves when you pose these deep, hypothetical questions. When you make him think, because you, you are the biggest challenge to his intellect yet.
You. He wants to say. But he settles for ‘Being remembered,’ instead. He works to untangle layers of fabric, your scarf, your jacket, letting out an exasperated laugh when he meets your amused gaze. “Right now though? I think I’d settle for kissing you.”
You cup his jaw, tracing your fingers along the sharp curve, and god he has perfect anatomy. “Settle huh? You should be more appreciative.”
He leans forward to press a chaste kiss against your lips. Drawing away for a moment, just to return because he’s never had this before. Because for the first time in his life, he gets it. He gets physical attraction, even if it took time. He’s kissed, been kissed, yes. But he could count those moments on one hand, and if you asked how many he truly enjoyed, he’d be left with no fingers raised.
“Believe me, i’m very appreciative…”
This isn’t like before, what he felt in the past; he expected something monotone, flighty, a brief fleeting moment of satisfaction. Means to an end. No, it’s actually the best thing he’s ever experienced, and he’s going to become so insufferable after this, because he’s just found out he is very very into kissing.
Correction: he’s very into kissing you.
In the moment between parting, and touching again, he assumes you to be divinity personified. Spencer has never been religious, but something of this magnitude should be canonised. He wants to ask you. Ask you when you became this beautiful. When you became the person he needs to kiss a second time, kiss a third time, kiss until his lips go numb.
A shaky inhale, a pause. “I hope… I hope that it was okay - I mean, it was good for me. Really, really good. Um—“ to be honest, he’s just glad he didn’t say thankyou.
“Yeah, Spence. That was… wow.” you draw your bottom lip between teeth, press into tissued flesh. Jesus Christ. “Wanna try again?”
Yes yes yes yes. He looks at you, pupils blown obscenely out of proportion. Part of him wants to say, ‘why didn’t we do this sooner?’ But that’s not fair; he’s only ready now. Now that he feels, now that he might be a little in love with you.
“Please,” is his answer, and then he’s catching your face in the palms of his hand, tugging your lips back to his, because admittedly, they have ached in the long, extensive period you were apart (53 seconds).
This time it deepens and Spencer sees stars. It’s an astronomical phenomenon, something interstellar— and god, he’s relating kissing to space. They should just tape the word ‘virgin’ to his back and call it a day.
There’s soft little breathy sighs escaping his mouth now, bleeding into yours. And yeah, spontaneous combustion might be a real threat. Actually no, it would hardly be spontaneous; there’s a clear, clear cause, and it just so happens to be your ruinous lips.
This is an entirely new facet of the human experience. The kiss is electric; he’s always been partial toward physics, and right now his veins carry an alternating current.
You know, he could probably write a thesis based on this.
You both stumble back back back until he’s hitting a wall, and yes, thankyou. He’s making all sorts of sounds he can’t justify, and it’s a supernova, an infinite black pool of— oh, he thinks he might die, ascend, transcend, when you press your thumb against his chin, hold your lips at just a little slant from his. Force him to wait there.
“Please,” he’s never been above begging. A worthy sacrifice, one he’ll certainly repeat again because you return to the kiss, and the world around him dissolves.
You’ve got one hand tangled in his hair. Tousled auburn, fingers sinking into strands, pushing all the way down to the root. The other is still cupping his face, keeping him close, keeping him selfishly close actually.
“Spence,” you murmur. And yes. Yes. He likes that. The way his name sounds rolling off your tongue, like it was destined to be there. Like he was destined to be yours.
His world is ending. So is yours. Fuck it, he presses himself against your thigh, and ohmygodohmygod. He’s being loud, he’s actually being so criminally loud right now because apparently he’s the most whorish virgin to ever exist.
“I lied, I lied,” he admits between messy kisses, “When you asked what I wanted the most? It’s not to be remembered, well it is, its on the list. But—“ he groans, kisses you again because talking interrupts matters that are more important. Like your lips.
“I wanna cum.”
Eloquent.
Spencer Reid being dirty? Oh, it’s hot, it’s so hot to reduce someone to such an obscene state. To reduce him, the boyish fumbling nerd (who just so happens to be the most beautiful person in existence) to such a degrading mess.
Still, there’s shock. Not because he said it (you greatly appreciate the indecent things falling from those pretty lips right now), but because—
“You’ve never? Haven’t even experienced it once? By yourself?”
He should be embarrassed, but his lips are red, his eyes are glassy, and the bulge in his pants is straining to be touched. “Never,” he sighs shakilly. “Never, and i’m— i’m starting to understand why it’s so popular.”
He whimpers, pushes himself against your thigh, because the friction, yes. “Is that weird? Please don’t think i’m weird. Because I’m really, really weird. Just maybe… not in that way?”
It’s never been enough. His body sometimes feels numb to the touch, and yet still so very overstimulated. Like he manually blocks himself from feeling, already prepared for the flinch. How does he explain that life hasn’t been kind to him? That he hates his body because of what people made it out to be when he was a child. Stripping him naked, tying him to a goalpost, always the underdog. The one to be targeted, tormented.
“It’s actually kinda hot,” you interrupt his thoughts, and just because you’re evil, corrupt, the worst, you press your thigh harder against his clothed cock, palm covering his mouth when a plethora of whiny sounds escape his mouth.
It’s performative, really. Alone in his apartment, there’s no need for noise control. So when your thumb slips between parted, swollen lips, he knows to suck. The average human hand has between 10,000 and 10 million bacteria, and Spencer does not actually give a fuck anymore.
“To think that you’ve never even felt what it’s like. That you’re gonna feel it with me for the first time. I get to see that shit— god, you’re going to look so fucking pretty for me.”
You draw your thumb out of his mouth, and he has the audacity to whine.
He’s never wanted anything more in his entire life. It’s all tertiary now. Only this matters.
“Please don’t praise me—“ he protests, “I’ll probably finish in my pants.”
“Praise kink, noted.”
You laugh, and he can only groan, curse existence for being this cruel to his overworked, undervalued body. “Don’t— don’t laugh. You’re not supposed to laugh, that can heighten performance anxiety. Increase insecurity, and…” he sighs, “You do not care. Sadistic tendencies, noted.”
“Shut up. Wanna see you.” you say, and he’s just muttering breathless mhm’s, too delirious to function; his body is betraying the last iota of self-control like the little whore it apparently is.
His sweater comes off first, then his top. Discarded fabric, his raised arms when you mutter a candid ‘up’, giving way to exposed skin. In response? Your pupils dilate. Spencer knows because he’s analysing, profiling. If you hate him like this, he’s fairly certain he’ll drag himself into a self-dug early grave. He wishes he was being melodramatic. That your approval didn’t have such a substantial impact on his carefully-constructed ego. But, oh, it does. It does.
Thin, with a long, defined torso, he blushes, rose blemished skin, when your hands drag across his stomach. He’d love to say he reacts sanely, suavely. Urbane to your touch. But that would be a total, discreditable lie. Instead, his back arches, seeking contact, following the path of your fingertips with pitiful desperation. He feels malleable, willing to bend and contort, if only to feel more.
“How can you not think you’re pretty, Spence?” His pants are gone next, then his stained boxers, fabric borderline sheer now, soaked through with pre-cum.
Spencer feels betrayed. His body never responds, not to his own hands, not to his own thoughts. And yet, the moment you’re on him, he’s a live-wire. It’s sick, heinous, double-crossing. Maybe it’s purposeful, done just to spite him. Figures.
“Holy shit, look at you. Look at how perfect you are.” Spencer wants to object, because he distinctly told you not to praise him. However,.. right now, the lights are on but nobody is home. Brain-death, he’s certainly in a vegetative state.
“Ohmygodohmygod,” he whimpers, because no amount of knowledge about human anatomy and physiology could prepare him for how he feels under your touch. No amount of education in the psychology of relationships could inform him of how viscerally wrong the way you look at him feels.
Because it’s not wrong, not all. It’s the most right he’s ever felt, and he’ll tell you that if you’ll just keep it up.
The sounds he’s making are phonographic, lewd, you’ve given up on trying to stifle them now. Where have you been hiding? Your eyes fall, and he wants to blush away from the exhibiting gaze, but he’s just…. too far gone; the thought of your touch outweighs any previous reticence. Then, oh then, you drop to your knees, and shit. He expected your thigh, maybe your hand if he was lucky, not—
This. Your mouth, your tongue, your pretty lips; god, god, is this a sin? Because if it is, he’ll take it.
“Please,” he whines, and he can’t look anymore because the sight alone is going to send him over the edge. He’s gripping the wall, scrambling scrambling for purchase, because he’s trying not to grip you, but how exactly does he keep this respectful?
He’s pretty sure they’re past that, considering your mouth is currently wrapped around his cock, and he’s debauched.
You want this, you want him, he feels like he’s transcended humanity, like he’s become someone, anyone and anything, that deserves the way you’re taking him apart, piece by piece. In the aftermath, he hopes you don’t leave a single ounce of him intact.
“Wanna kiss you. Oh— oh oh,” he’s sobbing now, “Come back here. Miss your mouth— even if it’s,” he looks down and that’s a mistake. “Please.”
Of course it would be Spencer to disrupt the best (and admittedly only) head of his life because he needs you closer.
You oblige, raising from your knees, and Spencer thinks it might be sacrilegious. But then again, he feels religion in your touch so it can’t be too profane. Maybe? He’s not sure, he’s not sure and it doesn’t matter. Ethics and morality have long since disintegrated, sins are engrained into humankind. He almost wants to thank Eve for tearing into the apple, because it’s allowed this irreverence to occur.
Spencer blindly follows you through the apartment, stumbling and muttering until he can collapse against the bed. Baring his pretty neck as his head hits the bedframe. Tangled in sheets, draped over his lap, his deft fingers run across your waist, mapping out the structure of your frame. If only to remember, recite this act of blasphemy.
“Spence,” you whisper, and then his lips are crashing into yours, stealing breath, stealing sanity. He whimpers, murmurs a protest when you draw back, and you can only laugh. “Lets get you off, yeah? You wanna feel an orgasm, pretty boy?”
“Yes, yes please. That would uh— yes.” he’s not even sure how he’s conscious right now. His body, god his body, has endured more pleasure in the last hour than it has for the majority of his life. Your hands scathe, and Spencer is willing to indefinitely burn, if just to feel them one more time.
You only stop to take off your clothes, and surely there needs to be prep? To reaffirm, he knows anatomy, the correct procedure, how the transgression is supposed to occur. And yet, that’s from a clinical, objective mindset. Do this, do that, etc etc. Nothing works out like that in practice.
You’re so wet, panties stained through, he spares a moment to run his fingers across your thighs, hand slipping beneath fabric to graze your clit. The moan that follows has him distracted, thumb tracing circlets, over and over until you’re pulling back to return the balance. The balance, which admittedly is skewed, tipped scales, you’re on top. He falls to the weight of your influence.
And yeah, he’s more than fine with that. Jesus, you drag your panties down, down your thighs, your legs, then they’re reaching your ankles, pooling there for a moment before they’re being discarded, tossed somewhere on his floor — leaving behind a souvenir that yes, yes this happened.
“I can’t,” he says, burying his face into your shoulder when you take him. It’s slow, sinking onto his cock like every inch of warmth will destroy him. Maybe it will. Maybe he doesn’t care, because he deserves this. He deserves to feel after so much repression.
Or maybe, maybe he’s just become the biggest slut known to mankind. Likely.
Your body presses against his, and he thinks he’s going to disintegrate, because he feels so good. He understands now, he understands why people do this. Why it’s integral to the function of most. This is the best day of his life. This. Is. The. Best. Day. Of. His. Life.
There’s this noise, this pathetically loud whimper when you start to roll your hips— and oh your body is wet against him, and you’re so tight, and it’s perfect because he doesn’t have to do anything.
He can just sit here, look pretty, and cry.
He knows he’s a giver, that he’d bleed himself dry for you. It’s a curse, he supposes: so willing to bend backwards for the satisfaction of the people he trusts. But, this is foreign, and he wants to watch you, aimlessly stare, dumb and empty-headed as you wield his body like a weapon. Turn him into something perniciously yours.
Spencer has no reference for what an orgasm is supposed to feel like, and yeah, he’s really good at guessing in these type of situations. Because he’s rolling his thumb over your clit again, and he wants to draw it into his mouth, to see you laid out across bedsheets, writhing, unable to do anything but suffocate him with your thighs.
You clench around him, back arched, releasing a series of strained moans. With one hand tangled in his dishevelled hair, the other pressed against his chest, your face contorts, your body stiffens. There’s no way his incessant whimpering just got you off?
Okay. So you like him desperate. Point taken.
“Please— please, wanna cum. Wanna feel it so bad,” he’s slurring over his words, sentences punctured by devastating whimpers. And look at him, asking for permission, waiting even though his body has been teetering on the edge for so long now.
“Shh, shh..” you press your forehead against his, and he melts. Reoccurring theme. His hand grips your jaw, thumb pushed firmly against your chin, keeping you close. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Gonna give me your first?”
“Mhm— mhm…” is all he can say. When you pick up your pace, he has to burrow his face into the crook of your neck, whimpers messy and broken off, suppressed against your warm skin.
“Oh. Oh…” he repeats, again. Like there’s anything else he could utter, because this is earth-shattering.
It’s the sun, and all eight planets combined, and the universe collapsing in on itself, and he’s bucking, squirming, releasing into you, spilling deep.
He sobs. Breaks down. Because it’s so so good, and he can’t believe he ever deprived his body of this.
Neediest whore to ever exist, apparently.
It takes him a while to come back. Longer to regain motor function, to sink into present day. Life, and expectations, and everything, everything, your touch eradicated.
“Just… just stay like this?” he asks, collapsing against your body after he’s drawn out of you. There’s mess, evidence of your ministrations, but cleanliness seems futile when he’s blissed out, caught in a post-orgasmic haze that yes yes yes he needed so badly.
You card your hands through his hair, watch the way he stares up at you, large, widened eyes, chin resting against your chest. “Hi,” he mutters dumbly.
“Spence,” Spence, Spence, Spence. He could drown himself in that nickname.
“Yeah?” he breathes out.
“You we’re so good—“
He rolls away from you, finding a home for his face in the pillow. “Stop. Stop.” he groans, “Don’t do that. You’re going to destroy me. I’m not… equipped for this, for you. Someone should just sedate me, put me out of my misery, a coma sounds like—“
He tilts his head to the side, relinquishing, “Okay. Sorry. Meltdown over. Can we shower? Then maybe do this again? Which will make the shower inconsequential, I suppose. There’s a new documentary I want to watch, and oh, you still haven’t seen the third Star Wars—“
He’s happy, content, over the fucking moon, to be silenced with your lips. “Yeah,” he murmurs, hand interlocking with yours as you both fall back against the mattress, “Let’s do this again.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#sub spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid#giving him the happiness he deserved#he is my roman empire#his excess trauma is also#my#roman empire#thank u and good night america#i’m not even american
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pairing: logan howlett x reader x wade wilson
rating: E, minors dni, 18+ (mmf threesome; resolved sexual tension; sex pollen; unprotected p in v sex; oral [f receiving]; double penetration)
words: 6.7k
summary: you, logan and wade are on a stakeout after reports of a new drug which only affects mutants. but what happens when you accidentally get a hit of it yourselves…? (the sex pollen fic from the poll! thank you @eupheme for betaing for me, i owe you my life!)
“I spy with my little eye…”
“Wade, I swear to god…” Logan’s voice is a low rumble, a warning.
“Awww c’mon, peanut! What else do we have to do? Indulge me in my childlike whimsy.”
“Let me guess,” you say, shelling a pistachio before throwing it in the air to catch it on your waiting tongue, “you spy something beginning with R-D, which is the rising damp, which is the fourth goddamn time you spied it because there’s nothing else in this fucking place.”
Wade huffs and throws himself back in his chair.
“Killjoy,” he mutters, and goes back to carving obscene doodles into the side table with baby knife.
On the first day you were happy to play along, just to ease the boredom and tension which came hand-in-hand with this arrangement. Now it’s been five of them, stacking on top of each other and getting claustrophobic-heavy, the three of you crowded into each other’s space and on the razor’s edge.
Something is going to break, and you’re worried it’ll be Wade’s nose under Logan’s fist.
What a stupid fucking mission. You should never have said yes.
Ever since the whole Void situation was resolved you, Logan and Wade have been X-Men adjacent. Not part of the group exactly but happy to play along if needed. This most recent assignment had been a request from Piotr - there was something going on downtown to do with trafficking drugs which affected mutants, and someone needed to keep an eye on it. Couldn’t be anyone from the mansion, they’re all hands on deck at the moment keeping an influx of kids in check. But the three of you? With no jobs between you and an urge to do good?
It was a problem with an obvious solution.
It’s a stakeout. Which means sitting and waiting and holy fuck is it boring.
You can tell something is going on in the alley across the street but you’ve had strict instructions not to take action until you see the guy in charge: thickset man with a penchant for misdeeds and built like a brick shithouse. Once you have proof he’s involved, you’ll get the go-ahead to close in and shut the place down in whatever manner you see fit.
But until he comes in, your little trio has no choice but to stay put, watching petty criminals come and go with no idea they’re being monitored.
Life has revolved around watches from the dingy window. Usually two of you will stay up while one of you tries to get some sleep on one of the uncomfortable twin beds that have been provided, but it isn’t easy to drift off when it feels like the mattresses are made of cinder blocks stuffed with broken glass. It isn’t that you’re unused to being in each others’ spaces - if you’re not at their apartment they’re at yours, after all, you are friends - but this is different. You have the luxury of walking away from each other in normal day-to-day life when things gets too much. Here? Here, you’re stuck until you’re done with the job. You’re all tired, irritated, and desperate for entertainment. You’ve even considered chopping off your own hand to watch it grow back, just for something to do.
And the thing is that’s not the worst of it. Ever since the three of you returned from the Void there’s been something there. Something difficult to pin down, exactly. A niggling little feeling worming its way through your body. Something which thrums every time Wade flexes the muscles in his hand and you see his long, strong fingers; every time Logan grits his jaw and the tendons in his neck throb.
Oh, right. You sort of really want to fuck them both.
You don’t go through something that traumatic and not have deep-rooted feelings which surpass normal boundaries. You fought for each others’ lives. You’re bonded in a way people rarely are. And the more time you spend with them the blurrier the lines between platonic and fucking soulmate become. You’ve seen both of them stare at you - and each other - when they think you’re not looking, so you’re sure this isn’t something that only you are harbouring. It’s a secret desire harboured by all three of you.
Like you said, something is gonna break. And in this shitty little surveillance room? It’s gonna break soon.
A movement outside. The three of you sit forward to take a look at the evening’s street view, only to fall back into your chairs as it turns out to be a false alarm. Just a pedestrian walking by. You’re going to go insane.
You drum your fingers on your thighs just to keep them busy, then turn to Logan.
“You got a smoke?”
He cocks a brow at you.
“You want a cigar?”
“Nothing else to fucking do.”
“Whoa, hey!” says Wade, putting his hand on Logan’s arm as he roots around in his jacket pocket, “No no no, you quit last year! Don’t start up bad habits again unless I’m the one convincing you to, pookie.”
“Wade, c’mon. I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t have something to do,” you groan. Plus, really, you’d kinda like something to suck on, just to relieve some of the ache in your belly.
As if Wade can hear your thoughts he pipes up again.
“Well if you’re that desperate to use your mouth, I know what we could play to pass the time…”
You and Logan groan in unison, and he balls his fist in a way which suggests it’s not long until the claws come out. Wade holds up his hands to signify peace.
“Whoa, chill out, honeybadger. No need to get scratchy. You don’t have to join in if you don’t want to… but it’s more fun the more people there are.”
Accepting there’s nothing else to pass the time, Logan lets out a long, exhausted sigh and lets Wade continue.
The mercenary licks his lips as if, for once, considering his phrasing. Then blurts out what he wanted to say anyway.
“We could play blowjob roulette.”
It was a foolish time to take a drink of your soda, because you spurt it out your nose. After a moment of mopping yourself up with your sleeve you manage a, “what?!”
“Well, oral roulette I guess, if we’re being PC about it.”
“Oh my god,” Logan groans, getting to his feet and stomping into the tiny excuse for a kitchenette, grabbing a beer and opening it with such gusto that the cap bounces off an adjacent wall.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything! We just spin the bottle and whoever it ends up pointing out deals out a round of Australian kisses for the other players. Relieves the boredom, and it’s fun to see how long everyone lasts.”
Your mouth is open, you’re sure of it. You’re looking at Wade in abject horror. This has got to just be part of his stupid bravado, right? Making an ill-timed joke?
Because the other option is he’s serious.
Logan drinks. You stare. Wade rabbits on.
“I’m just saying we used to play it at Sister Margaret’s all the time, when we were waiting for new marks to come in and didn’t have anything better to do! It wasn’t gay or anything except for, you know, the rampant homoeroticism of slurping everyone’s gherkin.”
“Did you… did you ever have to do it?” you ask, morbid fascination taking over. He scoffs.
“Did I ever have to… pookie, I’ve taken more loads than my building’s washing machine. Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty fucking great at it.”
He’s staring at you with an intensity which makes you feel like you’re on fire, but from embarrassment or enthusiasm you’re not sure.
“So?” he asks, quietly, putting a hand on your knee. Your body burns. You swallow. You look to Logan.
He sighs. Finishes his beer, but in a way which suggests he’s giving in. You see the way Logan’s teeth touch his bottom lip. The start of a fricative.
He’s going to say fine.
Movement out of the window. You bolt up, knocking Wade’s hand away. He deflates.
“Aww. But I really wanted to - ”
“No, guys - look!”
They quickly crowd you, following where you point. A huge man walks into the alleyway, flanked by underlings, the bulk of him taking up the small space.
“There’s our guy,” you say, “let’s go.”
You descend upon the alleyway in a flash of swords and claws. You tug your cowl up over your nose to protect your face, hand on one of your Brügger & Thomet MP9s as the three of you come face-to-face with the door you’ve been monitoring all week.
“So are we going in sneaky style, or—”
Logan rips the door off its hinges, throwing it down the length of the alley; he is desperate to be done with this. You exchange a look with Wade.
“Okiedokie, asked and answered I guess,” he sighs, grabbing his Desert Eagles from his holsters.
You both follow Logan who’s thrown himself into the middle of the lab claws-first. Two-thirds of the people scream and flee, the others stand their guard and grab their guns.
Fingers on triggers, you take a beat to examine the situation.
Equipment everywhere. Beakers and cylinders you can possibly guess the use for, set up on desks and synthesising something nasty. The boss is standing in the middle of the room, eyebrow cocked and mild annoyance plastered on his face. Bingo. You make a beeline for him, taking a couple of bullets in your flank as you go.
“Cover me!” you shout to Wade. He pulls his katana out of a guy’s head and throws you a bloodied thumbs-up.
“Got your back, pookie! Hate to see you leave, love to watch you spill entrails as you go!”
As if he was predicting your next action, you whip your knife out of your belt and stab it in an assailant’s belly, watching his warm guts slide onto the floor. He releases a strangled noise as he drops to his knees - you make a move to continue on your way to the boss only to feel someone pick you up.
“Shit!” you mutter as you’re hoisted into the air. Wade and Logan stop their onslaught to turn at the sound of your panic, their eyes both going wide as they see you restrained. With a twinned shout of your name they come running to help.
Aww, your boys. It’d be cute if you weren’t bracing yourself for the pain.
Your attacker launches you across the room. A couple of seconds go by as you fly through the air - and then into a table full of test tubes and pipettes.
A great cloud rises into the air. A cloud of spores?
Before you can get a chance to properly read the situation, Wade and Logan are at your side. Sturdy hands grasp around your forearms and you’re dragged to your feet.
Of course, it goes unnoticed…but all three of you take in a deep breath.
“You okay, baby?” rasps Logan.
“Yeah, I’m f— move!” you scream, shouldering him out of the way so you can sink your knife into the neck of the man about to spray bullets down his spine. As you rip through the soft skin at his throat something occurs to you.
‘Baby’? Where did that come from?
Not that it isn’t nice, obviously, but… it’s unlike Logan to show that much tenderness ever. Especially with pet names.
Oh well, no time to dwell.
Picking bits of glass from your biceps you tank a punch from a man closing in on your left, parry his next couple of blows, then shoot him in the dick. Wade has called this a ‘low blow’ before which isn’t incorrect but honestly, there’s no time for fighting fair when it’s 3-versus-30.
The boss has finally gotten involved. A pair of brass knuckles shines against his fist as he swings at Logan, a meaty crack filling the air in a way which you’re worried might actually have dented one of your friend’s ribs. Wade uses the distraction to stab a katana into the guy’s back, then another one a little further up - using him like a goddamn climbing wall. The boss roars like an animal and attempts to swat him off but there’s no use. His massive bulk is working against him, and Wade can be a fast little motherfucker when he wants to be.
Wade lets out a ‘peekaboo!’ as he pops up over the boss’s shoulder, pressing his pistol into the meat of his neck and firing. Blood sprays across the floor but somehow the guy doesn’t stop, not even when Logan picks himself back up and sinks both his claws into his stomach; it only elicits another snarl.
Okay, time to close.
You sheath your guns and go back to your knife, using Logan as a launchpad as you throw yourself off the arch of his back and into the air - stabbing down into the boss’s skull with a dull thunk.
A line of blood dribbles out of his mouth. He starts to fall.
“Uh oh - call me Ke$ha, because I’m yelling timber!” Wade warns. With a snarl Logan rips his claws free from muscle, snatching you off of the boss’s corpse as he stumbles forward under his own weight. Pulling you free you both lose your footing, and you crash down onto your friend.
You look at Logan.
He looks at you.
Suddenly, his hands clasp around your hips. Probably you move you off of him…
And then you’re on fire.
Like gasoline has made a line from his touch to your cunt, everything in you is set ablaze. Your pussy clenches and you’ve never felt so empty before - or at least not so aware of it.
There is a cock-shaped hole and it’s begging to be filled.
You expect Logan to freak out, you’re freaking out - you never thought you had a murder kink but you guess you’re never too old to find out something new about yourself - but he doesn’t.
Instead you just see him furrow his brow as if processing something; then acknowledge the press of his hardening cock rub against your thigh as he bucks up into you.
Oh no. Something is wrong.
When you feel Wade grab your shoulder and haul you back to your feet it’s the same, that delicious burning sensation rocketing through you… and from the way he moans as soon as his hands are on you, the feeling is mutual.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he breathes. Yeah. You want to, that’s the issue.
You stagger away from him with wide eyes and electric skin, a beat passing between the three of you as the people left in the lab decide to give up the fight now their boss is toast. Hearts racing, hands wanting to reach out and touch.
Logan is the one to break the silence.
“We should call in and let the others know we’re done,” he manages. You nod.
“Yeah. Can we… can we go back across the street? I don’t feel so good.”
“Oh, don’t you go Spider-Man Infinity War Part 1 on me,” Wade chuckles. You don’t have the energy to work out what he’s referencing, especially when a jolt goes through your body to your cunt when you feel his eyes meet yours.
Damn. This is bad.
“Yeah. Of course, honey,” Logan manages. He goes to put his hand on the small of your back and then thinks better of it, though you can feel its nearness like a magnetic pull. You almost moan when he retracts his touch instead. Wade whips his phone out and fires off a message to let someone know a cleanup crew is needed as you stagger out of the alleyway and back across the street.
You didn’t bother closing the door when you ran out, too desperate to monopolise on the chance of getting your mark. The three of you tumble back into the room you’d been dying to get out of just a scant few minutes ago, relieved to be in the privacy of its confines again.
A moment passes as all three of you adjust to the feeling coursing through your bodies.
“What’s happening?” you breathe, bracing your hands on the back of your go-to wooden chair and breaking it with the force of your grip. You wince at the sound of splintering, blood dripping down your palms before you feel it heal over.
“I’ve not felt like this since I first discovered how easy it was to masturbate to Good Housekeeping,” Wade groans, whipping off his mask as he flops down onto the battered-up-couch. Logan has made his way to the fridge again, practically ripping its door off to get to a beer which he downs in one swig. Fuck. It’s so sexy. You want to lick the muscles in his neck.
“It’s a pollen,” he states, voice rocky in a way which goes straight to the burning pit of your stomach. You and Wade exchange a look and then turn to him, waiting for further explanation. “Only has a reaction in mutants. Charles said it was something about putting the id into overdrive, like a fuckin’ adrenaline shot to the libido.”
“It… it makes you aroused?” you manage, attempting not to rock your cunt into the palm of your hand. Logan grunts.
“Was trying to be more tactful, but yeah, honey. That’s the idea.”
Honey. The pet name once again goes down your spine.
“Fucking sorry,” says Wade, “someone was manufacturing this stuff as a drug for what? To make mutants too horny to fight?”
Logan shrugs, still not tearing his gaze from his empty bottle, as if to agree it’s his best guess. Wade’s head falls back against the sofa’s arm.
“I mean, damn, they could have just shown me any frame from Magic Mike XXL and it would have had the same result. Seems like a lot of effort.”
Something about the way Logan talks sticks out to you, you circle back around to it.
“Logan, you seem to know a lot about this stuff… have you encountered it before?”
Another beer grabbed and chugged down, the forward hunch in his shoulders physical evidence of his walls raising.
“Once. Back in the day with the other X-Men.”
“How did you get through it? Does it go away?”
Logan doesn’t reply. Drinks.
The unspoken answer sinks in.
“Oh my god, you had to fuck it out, didn’t you?” gasps Wade. Logan doesn’t even growl. Jesus Christ he’s right. “Who was it? Storm? Beast? By the love of all things 100k+ enemies-to-lovers-slowburn, tell me it was Cyclops.”
Logan doesn’t dignify him with an answer, instead putting the empty bottle down with enough force you’re surprised it doesn’t shatter.
“It’ll pass. I just need to sit it out,” he reasons, the grit in his jaw suggesting this isn’t the optimal solution. You feel your eyebrows tug together, a crease of concern settling between them.
“But…”
“I’ll be fine.” The way he says it, he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone. With the room in the air practically throbbing he heads to the bedroom, leaving you and Wade alone.
Holy shit. You and Wade are alone.
Your eyes wander over to him, to find his gaze is already resting heavy on you. Your skin lights up.
“So, uh,” he starts, shifting himself awkwardly where his hard-on is trapped in his suit, “you read any good books lately?”
That does help to alleviate the tension and you find yourself chuckling, only for the relief to be ablated when your empty pussy pulses. You whine.
“Wade…”
As soon as you say his name he’s rushing over to you, helping you sit down on the ruined chair. You both moan as hot skin slides against hot skin.
“Look, it isn’t…” you groan as you slide your hand up his bicep. Fuck, he’s strong. “...it isn’t a crazy idea to help each other out, right? We’re friends. It’s just two friends giving each other a hand…”
Wade dips down to run the bridge of nose along the line of your jaw, letting his lips drop to the pulse in your neck.
“Just friends…” he mutters. You buck up into nothing. Oh, god. You’re going to die here. “Baby?”
Oh shit, oh fuck. You want him to call you that over and over again, stamp it into your fucking mind.
“Yeah?” you reply, the word ripped rawly from your throat.
“I wanted to do this before we even left this goddamn apartment, you think I might have changed my mind after the mutant viagra?”
He pulls back just enough for you to see the seriousness on his face. No, he’s not joking, not saying something dirty just because he thinks it’s funny.
He’s saying it because it’s true, and it’s both thrilling and terrifying.
“Can I?”
Oh, it’s so tempting to say yes yes yes… but the more tempting thing is to tease him. Just a little.
You hook your leg over his shoulder and he groans as you dig your heel into the muscle of his back. He groans loud and long.
“Wade?”
“Mmm?”
“Ask me properly.”
His breath hitches in his throat, and you’re pretty sure he’s making a mess in his suit.
“Fuck, can I eat you out, baby? Please?”
You nod so fast you fear you’ll break your neck.
Wade lifts you like you weigh fucking nothing at all, strong arms scooping you up and bringing you to the couch - desperate for more space. His hands move quick and roughly as he goes to the pants on your suit, so wracked with need his fingers shake just from the promise of getting to touch you properly. You help him as much as you can, toeing off your boots and helping him tug your underwear off along with your waistband. His eyes widen as he realises your panties are in his hands. He takes a moment to run his thumb over the cotton of them and he fucking moans. Oh, god damn it, you’re going to be fucking ruined.
“Fuck. Never seen a pussy look this good,” he breathes as he finds himself face-to-face with your dripping cunt. You’re already so wet that it’s embarrassing and, while it would be easy enough to blame on the pollen, you know that you’ve wanted this for months. When he drags his tongue up your puffy, desperate folds, you pretty much combust.
“Oh shit,” you groan, wrapping your other leg round his face to hold him flush against you - not that Wade needs any convincing though, because you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck you with his mouth before. He buries himself in you, scarred hands reaching up to dig into the soft skin of your thighs and keep you steady. He wants you at his own pace, it seems, and is strong enough to make it happen. Fuck, you are not complaining.
Wade’s eyes flit upwards to see how you’re reacting as he moves his whole face side to side to bury himself into your cunt deeper. It’s like he’s trying to find where your scent is the strongest and, honestly? With what you’ve heard about this pollen stuff? Seems right on track. He has no hair for you to bury your fingers in so instead you press your hand to the top of his head and pull him closer, because god knows you don’t have the ability to vocalise it. You sink your fingernails in so he knows, though.
Holy hell you’ve never felt so good. The pollen is heightening everything, each movement he makes into you shooting shockwaves through your nerves. Wade’s tongue is insistent in exploring every inch of you, pressing bluntly into your clit; lapping at the wetness seeping from you like he’ll die if he can’t taste what he’s doing to you; dragging down to your ass and toying with you there, too. Yes, fuck, anything he goddamn wants. When his teeth skim the needy folds of your cunt you jackknife into his mouth, almost breaking them clean out of his gums.
“Holy shit, babe. What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles, pupils so blown wide with lust that his eyes are eclipsed with black. You chase after him with your hips.
“Not you, and that’s the problem,” you harrumph. He grins and you see how covered with your slick he is and fuck you are going to die here.
“I’ll take care of you. That’s what friends do, right?” he asks, putting emphasis on the word you’re both masquerading behind. When you reach out with a searching hand he threads his finger through yours wordlessly, using the other to grab a pillow so he has something to fuck up against. You feel a tiny bit bad for not offering to help but you know he’ll get his in time - in fact just thinking about sucking his cock your mouth begins to water.
He presses his palm into yours as he goes back to your cunt with his mouth. It takes only moments for him to start up his desperate pace again, tongue sinfully sweet, and you’re chasing and chasing…
Stars explode in your vision and in your blood. The noise you let out is feral, a euphony of pleasure and you don’t care who hears. Wade’s eyes drift close as he tastes your orgasm directly at his lips, drinking you down. You’re certain his hips stutter as he comes just from getting you off. Oh god it’s so hot.
Oh god, you’re not done.
Wade surges up your body and kisses you ferociously, you moan at the taste of yourself he gives back.
“Fuck, yes, do you taste that, baby? What did I do to you? Holy fuck you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen…”
“Wade, I need you.”
“Yeah, fuck, okay. Let me get this stupid sexy suit off…”
Hands begin to fumble messily, needily at each other’s zippers in order to strip. You sit up to get a better handle on him—
And freeze when you see you have an audience.
Wade follows your gaze to where Logan is standing in the bedroom doorway. He’s managed to get his suit off and change back into his jeans, though you can’t imagine he’ll want to stay in them for long the way his trapped cock is staining dark blue denim even darker. He’s gripping the doorframe with such force that his claws have popped out, eyes a matching pitch black to Wade’s, chest heaving as he watches the show.
“You okay, honey badger?” Wade drawls, a cocky smile dragging across him. Logan grunts. Swallows hard. You go for a softer tactic.
“Logan, sweetheart, you wanna join in?” your voice is husky as you ask, oh so inviting. Logan squeezes his eyes shut and his fist tight, taking a chunk out of the wall.
“Get into the goddamn bedroom, both of you,” he growls. The two of you absolutely do not need to be told twice. Partially undressed you vault over the back of the dishevelled sofa, letting Logan lead the way. As soon as you’re within arms’ reach he snags you around the waist and pulls you in for a kiss.
Logan kisses like he wants to devour you. Rough, commanding, dragging his tongue into your mouth as if trying to claim you. Oh, you’ll let him a hundred times over. You mewl when his hand reaches down you cup your still dripping pussy, immediately swiping a thumb against your clit. It pulses as if Wade didn’t just pull an orgasm out of you.
“Fuckin’ needy little thing,” he snarls, delighted. You reach down to grab the bulge he’s rocking, squeezing hard enough to get him to groan.
“Look who’s talking,” you chuckle. He taps at the top of your suit, an instruction.
“Off,” he says, but that’s as much as he gets to say, because Wade grabs him by the beard and steers him in for a kiss. You pause for just a second to see what will happen but clearly you needn’t have worried - Logan moans into your friend’s mouth, grabbing a handful of Wade’s pretty decent ass and digging in his fingers. While they’re busy you finish stripping, going for the zipper on the back of the red suit and pulling it down. It’s such a goddamn stupid design having it at the back like a goddamn prom dress - but at the moment you’re kinda thankful for it because it means you get to kiss along the revealed plain of skin. Wade has such beautiful fucking back muscles, you’ve stared at them for long enough to memorise every damned one.
He steps out of the suit when you get to his feet - yeah, he did come just from eating you out earlier and holy fuck are you proud - and lets out a strangled noise when you bite the meat of his asscheek hard enough to leave a mark.
“Fuck, are you gonna rim me? Because if so I’m a thousand percent down,” he chokes, pulling away from Logan’s mouth and leaving a string of spit between them, evidence of a messy kiss. You shrug.
“You want me to, baby?”
Wade seems to have a crisis of faith as he considers this, letting Logan nibble down the length of his neck; eventually he shakes his head though.
“No, I wanna be inside you, like, yesterday,” he confesses.
“I’ve got enough room for two,” you state, so absolutely sure the pollen will accommodate that you don’t even need to think about it. Both Wade and Logan suck in a breath at that idea.
“Fuck, baby, aren’t you just perfect,” Logan drawls, grabbing you by the hips as you stand up and pulling you to the pathetic twin bed this apartment was provided with. Not how you wanted this first time to go down but hey, at least it’s going down at all. No longer just a dirty fantasy you bury your fingers into your cunt imagining but a real bonafide liaison (boner-fide liaison, Wade’s voice in your head pipes up).
You paw at his jeans, desperate to have all three of you naked and ready. There’s nothing to hide between you any more. Any boundaries have been not only crossed but decimated, absolutely destroyed beyond repair, and you couldn’t be happier. When his cock falls heavy into your palm you can’t help but suck air in through your teeth at its sheer size. Logan chuckles, gravelly and tempting.
“Oh it’ll fit, baby,” he coos, as if reading your mind. Fuck. Yep, it will. There’s no two ways about it. You’re having both Wade and Logan inside you if it kills you.
He wraps you in his arms before you can have any more thoughts on the matter and pulls you down onto the mattress with him, the pollen in your veins making you feel every touch like the end of a live wire - yet you keep coming back to get shocked. Logan positions himself under you, chest-to-chest, grinning at the way your nipples rub against the coarse and gorgeous hair of his chest. There’s a slapping noise and you realise it’s Wade’s hand on Logan’s thigh, encouraging him to move up the bed.
“Big boy, you know you have to scoot up if this is happening. I’m all for fucking the same pussy together but you have to be realistic…”
Obscured by your body, only you get to see the way Logan rolls his eyes fondly at Wade’s blabbering. He manouveurs you both to allow Wade room to kneel on the mattress behind you and you gasp at the feeling of their cocks bullying at your entrance.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, body on fire and desperate to be extinguished by them. Logan hums in your ear.
“I know, baby, I know. We’ll take care of you.”
“And each other. I got sex-pollened too, old man,” Wade harrumphs, rubbing his head against the slick lips of your cunt.
“Nobody’s forgetting you, princess,” he murmurs, “now be good and put me inside.”
Logan probably misses the soft hiss Wade lets out at that, but you feel the way the mercenary’s hand wraps around his cock and presses Logan to your empty cunt. You moan in pleasure as he follows the path Wade has laid out and pushes himself inside of you, no resistance given. It takes you only a couple of seconds to adjust to the pure size of him. Holy shit, if this were any other time you’d be falling apart by now, but the way your body pumps with desperation suggests one dick alone isn’t going to be enough.
“You okay?” Logan rumbles by your ear. You cling onto him for dear life, nodding.
“Yeah. Fuck, Wade, I know you’ll fit, you’ve gotta fuck me too.”
Wade doesn’t even have an answer for that. Instead you feel his thumb tug at your lips, stretching you for him - or just watching the way Logan fills you, getting off on the filthy way you’re plugged. Another cock begins to press at your already stuffed hole and you whine.
“S’okay, I gotcha,” Logan says through gritted teeth as he feels Wade’s length slide along his own, the feeling almost overwhelming for him. You drop your head to his shoulder and choke on your own spit as Wade forces himself inside of you. Your cunt feels like it is about to burst into flames in the most satisfying way possible, flowering open between them both.
“Fuck, never felt anything so goddamn tight in my life…” Wade manages. Eventually he bottoms out alongside Logan, both of them sitting snugly inside of you, sharing you, clutched in your warmth.
“There we go,” Logan growls. “You okay, baby?”
Not knowing if the question is aimed at you or Wade you both whine a yes. Logan laughs and you feel his chest move beneath you, all muscle and heat.
“I’m gonna move now.”
He drags himself out of you, inch by glorious inch, like a match striking against a box and sparking an ember. A deep ragged breath shudders through you at the feeling of it but it is nothing compared to how he slams back inside. Lights flood your periphery. You are going to fucking die between these two men and that is fine. Heaven, even.
Once Wade feels Logan’s rhythm it is too much of a competition for him not to match it. The mercenary’s arms fall either side of your bodies to support himself as he works himself in and out of you, sliding deep as Logan retreats to the tip. Your cunt makes a lewd noise as they piston inside of you and you have never cared about anything less in your life. You are bathed in light, high off this, euphoric over being fucked. A tiny rivulet of drool falls from the edge of your mouth into Logan’s chest hair and he curses at the glorious rawness of it all.
Above you, Wade has finally found his voice again.
“Look at you taking us so well. Oh, fuck, goddamn. I’ve wanted you like this for so long. Remember when we were neighbours, honey? Those guys who you used to bring home… fuck, baby… I used to give myself the old low-five to the sound of you getting fucked…”
You make a pathetic little noise which spurs him onwards. Wade’s mouth drops to your ear.
“...and I used to get angry because I knew I could do it better myself.”
“Oh my god Wade…” you whisper. Tears are beginning to pool in your eyes at the way you’re starting to get overstimulated, two cocks hitting that sweet spot inside you verges on being too much. Were the pollen not still in full force you’re sure you’d need to tap out.
“And you?” Wade’s hand grips Logan’s bicep, squeezing appreciatively. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up every morning and see you shirtless on my couch, and not be able to fuck you? You do it on purpose, peanut, I swear…”
Logan chuckles again, that deep honey-rich sound eked out in magnitudes.
“And what if I do, Red?”
Wade pauses in his thrusting, you don’t have to see him to know that his eyes are wide.
“Wait, what? For real?”
“Wade!” you whine, reaching over to slap at his arm, annoyed that he’s stopped moving. “Can we all just agree we’ve gotten off to the thought of each other and we’d have fucked eventually anyway?”
The men either side of you seem to think it’s a good compromise to come to and redouble their efforts. All you can do is to cling onto whatever muscles you’re able to find and ride the wave of pleasure. Fireworks go off in your synapses, brain a messy goo of euphoria, cunt fucked out and thoroughly taken care of.
They speed up, thrusts getting messy and arrhythmic and yet still somehow matching, and you know that they’re going to come together. What a fucking treat, how divine, oh god. Logan’s hands sink into your ass to keep you anchored as his cock goes faster, skin slapping on skin as his sac moves against Wade’s - causing the merc to let out a string of curses - and you’re suddenly flooded with his warm, sticky cum pumping inside you in jets. Wade whines at the feeling of himself being doused and follows Logan’s lead. The filthy cocktail of them drips around both their lengths and out of your hole, falling onto the pathetic mattress below. One last little nudge of the hips is all it takes to push you over the edge again. Your next orgasm is dragged out of you… but you know your body will demand more.
For now, though, respite. The urge to reach that peak again immediately has at least settled for the moment.
“Holy fuck,” you sigh. Logan hums an affirmative note, fingers playing with the small of your back as Wade peppers kisses across your shoulderblades.
“We should go on stakeouts more often, if this is the nice little bow everything gets tied up in,” Wade sighs, dreamily. You nod against Logan’s chest. His hair rubs your cheek deliciously. Your pussy throbs again, reminding you this dirty escapade needs to continue soon. “So what does this mean? Are we a little mutant charcuterie now?”
Your brow furrows as you try to parse what Wade has just said.
“Oh. Wade, baby, do you mean ‘coterie’?”
Logan bursts out laughing, a noise you’ve never properly heard before, and it has you grinning - and Wade, too, even though he grumbles a little at being corrected. Their cocks jostle inside you and you feel them getting hard again and, as you prepare yourself for round two, it’s nice to know that whatever the three of you face at the end of this will be happy.
Three days later, you’re laid across the couch, head in Wade’s lap and legs in Logan’s, all tangled together as you get the single worst telling-off of your life.
“Non-lethal mission, Wade! How many times did I have to tell you, it was meant to be non-lethal!” Piotr shouts down the line. Wade grimaces.
“Look, there were other things we had to sort out first, okay? We kinda forgot about the no-killing part. Besides the guy can’t traffic drugs if he’s dead,” he confesses. You can picture Piotr’s disappointed face.
“Other things!? WHAT other things, Wade?!”
“Okay so there was this horny pollen, and we all had to—”
Logan grabs Wade’s phone and hurls it across the room. It shatters into pieces against the wall. Wade gawps.
“Hey! That was new! Well, okay, not new, but it wasn’t cracked. Well, it was cracked, but it had all my best dick pics on there!”
“You can take new ones,” Logan states.
You smile. Yeah. The charcuterie is nice.
#my writing#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#logan howlett imagine#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#mcu imagine#wolverine fanfiction#mcu fandom#Deadpool x reader#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader x wolverine#wolverine x reader x deadpool
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you.
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough.
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes.
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement.
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment.
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them.
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up.
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you.
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie.
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can.
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks.
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy.
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft.
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly.
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait.
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest.
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back.
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow.
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly.
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.”
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you.
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features.
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table.
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness.
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum.
Spencer doesn’t respond.
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy.
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks.
You do it again.
Another squeak.
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can.
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark.
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won.
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding.
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one.
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile.
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you.
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously.
“You’d be surprised.”
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him.
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you.
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago.
But you don’t bring those up.
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth.
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face.
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?”
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently.
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that.
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine
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wanna see? | c.s. |
chris sturniolo x fem! reader
summary: during a night of heavy drinking, y/n tells chris that her roommate, who had slept with him weeks prior, had been less than impressed by his skills in the bedroom. chris asks if y/n believes her roommate, and when she says she does, he decides to prove her wrong.
warnings: SMUTTTTT; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); p in v; DIRTY TALK; unprotected sex; drinking; spanking; ROUGH; 18+
notes: not to gas myself up but...this smut...is insane. i literally wrote all of this in like three hours idk what happened i think my body was taken over by my hormone monster or some shit. but anyways i hope u chris girlies enjoy <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
“Y/n! Our Uber is two minutes away, are you ready?” My roommate Bree called from the other side of my bedroom door just as I finished applying my lip gloss. “Yep! I’ll be out in a second.” I replied, taking one final look at myself in the full length mirror and adjusting my pleated mini skirt. Satisfied with my appearance, I finally exited my room and found Bree struggling to tie her corset top up herself. “Oh god, let me help.” I sighed, grabbing her shoulders to turn her around so that I could lace her up. “Thanks babe. Oh my god, you look unreal!” She exclaimed, facing me once I was finished, and I smiled sheepishly. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I looked down at my tiny skirt, low cut top, and chunky boots self consciously. “Absolutely fucking not. As a matter of fact I think you should wear that outfit every day for the rest of your life.” She replied before poking my cleavage playfully. I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh shut up, let’s go.” I shoved her shoulder jokingly and we both headed for the front door of our apartment.
“So,” I began once we got on the elevator, “Who’s all gonna be there tonight?” Bree’s fingers were flying across the keyboard on her phone, frantically texting someone. “Um…the usual group I think, probably gonna be a few other random people we don’t know yet, but Nick told me they’re keeping it pretty small this year.” She replied as we got into our Uber and I nodded in acknowledgment.
We were heading to the triplets’ house to celebrate their 21st birthday. Bree and I had met Nick Matt and Chris about a year ago, and the five of us had grown extremely close since then. It was a short drive from our place to theirs, but still I pulled out two mini bottles of tequila and handed one to Bree. She raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “We didn’t have time for a pre game.” I said simply before raising my bottle to cheers her. She laughed before doing the same, and we both took our shot. “Fucking ew,” She said, shuddering, “I hate tequila.” It was my turn to laugh. “The first shot is always the worst, remember?” She nodded hesitantly. “True enough.”
“So…you think things are gonna be weird with you and Chris? This is the first time you’ve seen him since-” Bree cut me off by waving her hand nonchalantly. “Nah, it’ll be fine. For him it meant nothing, and you already know what it was for me.” I bit my lip to stifle a laugh.
A few weeks ago, I was awoken from my sleep at 3 a.m. by Bree barging into my room to tell me that she had just slept with Chris. This news shocked me, since I knew that she had been pining after Matt since we first met them. When I asked her to explain how the fuck that happened, her only explanation was that she was drunk enough to pretend that Chris was Matt. Initially, I had been concerned that their intimacy would make things weird in our group, but both of them seemed to be completely unbothered by it.
“Alright well, let’s just enjoy the night.” I said as our Uber pulled up to the house. “And who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky with the right triplet tonight.” I joked before walking up to the front door, side by side with Bree. She sighed. “Probably not. Pretty sure all hope of that disappeared once I opened my legs for his brother.”
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I realized that I was drunk. Bree and I had arrived at the house about an hour ago, and we both immediately took three tequila shots back to back in honour of the triplets’ birthday. Thirty minutes later, we took another trio of shots, and that was more than enough to get me absolutely wasted. I haphazardly reapplied my lipgloss before exiting the washroom and heading back over to the kitchen to grab something else to drink.
“Whoa whoa whoa.” Shouted Nick over the loud music before rushing from the cluster of people he was with and grabbing the bottle of tequila from my hand. “Pretty sure you don’t need any more of that right now. How about some water?” He phrased it like a question, but didn’t wait for me to respond before grabbing a solo cup and filling it with water. I made a weak attempt at protesting, but deep down I knew that he was right; I was so far gone and the night was still young. “Thanks Nicky.” I said once he brought me the cup of water, and he rolled his eyes. “Ew. Don’t call me that. Now come over here and hang out with us.” He led me to the kitchen table, where him, Chris, Matt, Nate, and a few of their other friends were chatting.
“Hey Y/n, you want a shot?” Nate asked, a bottle of vodka gleaming in his hand. Just as I was about to respond, Nick cut me off with an aggressive “No!”, causing me to pout. “Oh yeah, you’re wasted kid.” Chris said with a shot glass in his hand. I looked at him for a moment, taking in his disheveled appearance and blood shot eyes. “Yeah well so are you.” I retorted weakly, and he chuckled. “It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He said before immediately lifting his glass to cheers with the rest of the group.
I stood there sipping my water slowly as they all took their shots, my eyes focused on Chris’ sharp jaw as he grimaced from the taste of the alcohol. I continued to watch his mouth as he spoke to the person to his right, caught in a drunk trance and intrigued by the rosy colour of his lips.
If I was being honest, I had felt a certain attraction towards Chris since I met him. It wasn’t exactly a crush, and I certainly didn’t have any sort of serious feelings for him, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t ever been tempted to go there with him before. There was a time, early on in our friendship, where we almost crossed that line.
I had been helping him hang posters on the wall above his bed, when he suddenly tackled me onto the mattress. It started off playful, but after a few moments of us play fighting, he ended up on top of me and the mood in the room completely changed. The smiles on our faces disappeared, and I felt my heart begin to race as his lips moved closer and closer to mine. Just as our lips brushed, the sound of Matt’s footsteps coming down the basement stairs caused us to jump apart, and we never spoke of that moment again.
Outside of that time, him and I had only ever acted as very good friends. As a matter of fact, out of all of the triplets I definitely got along with Chris the best. We both had similar personalities, and could joke around without worrying about hurting each other’s feelings.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by Nick’s voice to my left. “Y/n, did I tell you how unbelievably hot you look tonight?” I giggled, noticing that his voice was beginning to sound slurred even to me, so he was clearly drunk. “You did, but thank you Nick.” I replied, smoothing down my skirt and batting my eyelashes jokingly in his direction. I thoughtlessly glanced at Chris, and found his glossy eyes trailing slowly down my figure; clearly admiring my outfit.
“Hey Y/n, have you seen Bree?” Asked Nate, and I looked around the room quickly, realizing that I hadn’t seen her since I used the washroom. “I saw her go outside a little while ago, probably went to smoke.” Replied Matt, and I smiled to myself knowing that Bree will love the fact that he has been secretly keeping tabs on her whereabouts. “Speaking of Bree,” Chris started, turning back to look at me, “Did she tell you about what happened two weeks ago?”
The group grew silent for a moment as they waited for me to respond. I took a sip from my water and nodded. “She sure did.” Chris smirked. “I’m surprised she even had to tell you. You must have been out cold if you slept through all that noise she was making.” The entire group groaned, clearly disturbed by Chris’ lack of filter. “Oh my god! Goodbye.” Nick threw his hands in the air before storming off to join Madi on the couch in the living room.
I scoffed, grabbing the bottle of vodka from Nate and taking a swig. “Bullshit.” I replied simply, wincing from the burn as the vodka travelled to my stomach. Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?” Even in my drunken state I was very aware of the amount of eyes on me awaiting a response. “Well, I asked her to rate the sex on a scale from one to ten. She said six.” The group broke into laughter, and Chris’ jaw clenched as he smirked. “Hmm, funny.” He replied.
“You asked for the wrong number,” Said Nate through his laughter, “You should have asked her for the inches.” Chris grabbed the bottle of vodka from me before bringing it to his lips. “Oh I did,” I smiled, leaning towards Chris’ ear before continuing in a whisper so that only he could hear, “I believe her exact words were, ‘nothing special’.” Chris smirked, swiping his tongue across his front teeth. “Oh really? And you believe that?” He responded, and I nodded, crossing my arms across my chest. “I have no reason to not believe her.” We stood there for a moment, both of us just staring at the other tauntingly as the rest of the group just watched in silence, clearly feeling left out of the conversation all of a sudden. Finally, after letting his eyes travel down my body slowly again, Chris spoke.
“You wanna see for yourself?”
It took every fibre of my being to keep my jaw from physically dropping at his words. “Uh, what the fuck are we talking about here?” Nate said, his voice tentative. I kept my gaze on Chris, hoping that my eyes weren’t giving away how shocked I was. I watched him watch me; his bright blue eyes drilling into mine, his lips upturned in a confident smirk. Realizing I had been silent for too long, I blinked repeatedly and cleared my throat to regain my nonchalant composure before shrugging. “Sure.” I heard Matt groan beside me as I grabbed the vodka from Chris, taking a sip as I followed him towards the stairs to his bedroom. “I’m gonna be sick.” Matt’s distant voice shouted as Chris and I descended the stairs and walked into his dark bedroom.
Once Chris shut and locked his bedroom door, I felt a pit in my stomach begin to grow. I suddenly broke into a fit of laughter from the ridiculousness of this situation. “What are you laughing at kid?” Asked Chris, beginning to chuckle himself. I took a moment to catch my breath before responding. “You’re not actually gonna let me see your dick, are you?” I clutched my stomach as I tried to control my laughter, and he shrugged. “I will if you want to see it.” I bit my lip in contemplation, trying desperately to think properly through my drunk fog. Failing miserably, I nod my head.
Chris smirked. “Come here then.” I put the bottle of vodka down on his desk and walked over to where he was standing in the middle of his room. I stopped about a foot away from him, but he gently pulled me closer. Looking at my face, he finally pulled me up against him; rubbing an uncertain thumb against the small of my back. “Wait, I’m not hard right now.” He chuckled, seeming to have his own moment of consciousness. I smiled up at him and tilted my head, placing a hand on his stomach. “Well I need to see it in its full glory. How else am I gonna know if you’re telling the truth?” His thumb stopped its movement on my back, and a glimmer of something flashed in his eyes.
“Okay, then make me feel good baby.”
My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his before grabbing his bottom lip with my teeth and pulling slightly; watching as it snapped back into place. My right hand slowly traveled down his stomach towards his waistband, where I let it linger for a moment before moving down to his crotch. There, I had to keep myself from audibly gasping; as even through his pants, his fast growing bulge was in fact huge.
Chris smiled lazily as my hand continued to palm his clothed dick. “Impressed yet?” My eyes snapped to his, and I decided to maintain my unimpressed persona. I hummed, my lips touching his but not quite kissing them. “Is this all you got Chris?” I bit his lip once more just before it turned up in a smirk. “Not quite.”
I gasped in shock as Chris spun me around and slammed me against the door, attacking my lips with his own. His kiss was full of a sort of animalistic hunger, and I was consumed by the taste of peppermint and vodka. He pressed me even harder against the wall as he rolled his hips against me, and I fought the urge to whimper at the feeling of his restrained cock against my needy core. He brought both of his hands up and pulled my low-cut top down to free my tits before grabbing one in each hand. Detaching his lips from mine, he took a moment to look at my chest before attaching his mouth to my left nipple; swirling his tongue around its sensitive nerves before moving onto the right.
Pulling away from my tits and once again coming face-to-face with me, he spoke. “Get on your knees.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and began guiding me down to the ground. Now at the same height as his bulging member, I watched as he wasted no time in removing his jeans. Now only concealed by his thin boxers, the true size of his cock was much easier to see. I stared in silence for a moment, taking in the fact that his boxers just barely covered its entire length. “Now do you believe me?” He asked from above me. I struggled to find my words, but I didn’t want to end this crazy game that we were playing, so I shook my head. “I’ve seen bigger.” I replied, looking up at him with doe eyes.
Chris rolled his eyes before pulling his boxers down to his knees. Now fully exposed, his cock smacked my face as it sprung free from its restraint. I couldn’t help but stare at it in awe — it had to be at least eight inches — as the faint light in the room reflected on its beautiful veins. “Open your mouth.” Chris’ commanding voice pulled me from my trance, and I looked up at him in shock. “What?” He tilted his head, “You said you’ve seen bigger, so you should have no problem swallowing this cock. So open your mouth.” His dirty words went right to my heat, and I felt my panties begin to flood with arousal.
Chris used both hands to collect all of my hair and held it out of my face as I wrapped my lips around the first few inches of his cock. Starting slow, I swirled my tongue around his sensitive tip before bobbing my head; taking a bit more of his length with each pump. I released his cock from my mouth for a second to catch my breath, before quickly leaning back in and deep throating his entire length. I heard a hiss escape his lips as my nose brushed against the sprinkle of hair against his lower stomach, and I began moving my head up and down his entire length; making sure to get every inch of him in my mouth.
“F-fuck, Y/n, that’s good. Keep going.” Chris rasped, and he began thrusting his hips at the same pace I was moving at. I moaned around his cock as his grip on my hair tightened; halting my movements entirely as he began face fucking me. Tears welled in my eyes as his cock repeatedly slammed into my throat, and I watched his face as his jaw went slack in both concentration and arousal.
Suddenly, all his movements stopped and he pulled me up to my feet. With his lips on mine and his hands tightly grasping my ass, he walked me backwards towards his bed. Once my heels reached the edge of the bed, Chris reached under my skirt and slid my panties down my legs. Feeling myself lose all sense of control, I didn’t hesitate when he ordered me to lay on my stomach with my ass in the air. I began trying to remove my skirt, but was stopped short by a sharp slap to my ass. “No, leave it on. You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” My back arched subconsciously from his words, and I began to tremble in anticipation.
I felt the bed shift as Chris climbed on, and I shuddered from the heat of his breath against my core as he spoke. “You want to talk shit about how you don’t think I can make girls scream, then you better stay fucking silent.” He gave me barely any time to register his words before his mouth connected to my core. Working his tongue relentlessly against my clit, I buried my face in his duvet to keep from making any noise. Using both hands to massage my ass as he continued to devour my cunt, he very quickly proved to me that he did in fact know how to eat pussy.
His mouth moved from my clit to my opening, and I couldn’t stop the guttural moan from passing my lips as his tongue began to plunge into me. Immediately, he stopped his movements and slapped my ass hard. “What did I say?” He asked, his gravelly voice filled with a sinister edge. “S-sorry.” I replied, pushing my core back in an attempt at reconnecting with his talented mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He replied before finally re-attaching his mouth to my hole. I bit down on my lip — so hard that it began to bleed — in order to keep myself from making another noise as I felt an orgasm approach. Chris continued using his tongue to fuck me as my legs began to shake and my brain grew fuzzy.
Like a tidal wave, my orgasm overtook my body and I began to convulse uncontrollably. I was somehow able to stifle my sounds of pleasure, even when Chris moaned into my pussy as I felt myself squirt all over his face. Without even giving me a moment to recover, Chris straightened his body up onto his knees, grabbed onto my hips, and plunged every substantial inch of his cock into me. At this, I couldn’t help but scream out in shock, and Chris promptly pulled out of me; leaving my dripping core feeling empty. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Do you want me to stop?” He tapped my pussy with his cock as he waited for me to respond. Scared to say anything, I simply shook my head. “Are you ready to admit that Bree was lying?” I turned my head so that I could see him behind me.
“Size doesn’t mean shit if you don’t know how to use it. So go ahead and prove yourself right.” At my words, Chris shook his head as his lips turned up in a smirk. Immediately, his dick slid back into me slowly, and I felt my hole stretch more and more as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, before pulling his hips back so far that his tip was barely resting inside of me; and then slammed all of himself back into my cervix. He continued at this agonizingly slow and deep pace for a while, and used his words to taunt me the entire time.
“You’re such a good girl, taking all my cock like this.”
“I bet you feel so good right now baby.”
“Oh fuck, keep creaming all over this big dick.”
Suddenly, Chris pulled out of me and flipped me onto my back. Wasting no time, he hooked my legs around his neck and pushed his inches back into me. I stared at him, mouth open, as he watched my pussy swallow his cock with each quick thrust. Using one arm to support his weight, he placed his free hand on my stomach and pressed down. “You feel that?” He began, finding the spot where my stomach was bulging, “Feel how deep in your guts my cock can get?” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I bit on my own arm to stifle the noises that were dying to escape it as I felt my second orgasm approaching.
Chris seemed to notice my impending climax, as he leaned forward to reach even deeper into me. “You want to cum, hmm?” He cooed, bringing a hand to my cheek. With my face contorted in the confusing combination of pleasure and frustration, I nodded my head. He moved my arm away from my mouth and planted a deep kiss there. “You can cum as hard as you want, just as soon as you tell me how good my cock makes you feel.” I whined silently, my overstimulated nerves causing my body to fill with a sudden desperation. “Come on, Y/n,” Chris brought his thumb down between our bodies and began rubbing my clit, “I want you to cum for me.”
I was panting now, feeling as though I might explode from the overwhelming pressure within my body. I was quickly realizing that I was losing this battle, and it was time to throw in the towel.
“Fuck Chris you’re so big.” I nearly screamed out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at keeping my composure. “Feels so good, please let me cum.” I begged, and watched his face as his pupils dilated from my words. “That’s my girl. Now let go.” His hips continued pounding into me as I finally gave into my orgasm, and I lost all control of my mind as I spewed a plethora of moan-filled profanities into the room. My walls contracted uncontrollably around his girth as my orgasm tore through my body, and I felt my nails dig into the skin on his shoulders.
“Oh fuck Y/n, gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” His words came out shaky, and I didn’t hesitate before responding, “In me, please baby.” I begged, wanting to feel his warm seed spill into my worn out core. “Shiiit.” He hissed, his body slowing to a near-halt as he rode out his own orgasm. With slow, lazy thrusts, he pushed his cum deep into me as his cock twitched repeatedly.
Eventually, his movements stopped completely, and he slowly pulled out of me and walked towards his bathroom. When he returned, he came back with a towel and used it to help clean me up in silence while I caught my breath.
“I might be drunk,” He started, “But that was hot as fuck.” I laughed, holding my spinning head before sitting up. “We are never to speak of this again.” I said as I got to my feet to retrieve my underwear. “Sure sure…until the next time we do it right?” I rolled my eyes at his response and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Shut up. I need a shot, let’s go.” I headed for the door once he was fully clothed and together we began to climb the stairs. “How likely is it that everyone up here knows what we did?” I whispered to him as we neared the top. “Oh very likely, but who cares? It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He winked at me as we made it to the kitchen, where everyone’s eyes immediately landed on us.
“Oh god.” I muttered under my breath as I hurried over to Bree, who was smiling knowingly at me as she began pouring out two shots of tequila. “Please tell me one of these are mine.” I whispered to her, and she laughed. “It sure is. You have a good time down there?” She wiggled her eyebrows as she handed me a slice of lime. “If you really meant it when you said his dick was ‘nothing special’, then I’m gonna need the names and numbers of the guys you were ranking him against.” She tilted her head back and exploded into laughter before lifting her shot glass in the air and urging me to do the same. “You got it, babe. Just as soon as I get Matt to fall in love with me.” I laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before raising my own glass. “Cheers!”
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you
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Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy
Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"
Word count: 3.9k
Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention
A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)
As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned.
“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot.
She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him.
Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season.
“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?”
“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over.
“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”
“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were.
Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed.
“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered.
“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile.
“Two rooms coming up,” you promised.
They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.
“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.
“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.
“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”
“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.
“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–”
Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly.
“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?”
Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”
“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”
Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”
“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back.
The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”
“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open.
She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”
“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds.
“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head.
“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners..
“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.
“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”
“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”
“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”
After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks.
“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”
“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”
“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”
“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”
Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back.
You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.
“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.
You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”
You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”
“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”
“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”
By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison.
“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said.
“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered.
“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”
“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.”
You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna.
“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled.
“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”
Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–
“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp.
Well fuck me, you thought.
…
You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.
You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin.
After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler.
“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag.
“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned.
You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”
This fucking cowboy.
“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him.
“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”
“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation.
There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”
“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”
“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”
He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”
You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him.
You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor.
“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”
Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.
You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.
Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.
…
With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did.
“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go.
With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside.
She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses.
“C’mon!” you screamed.
“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”
“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled.
“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately.
But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won.
In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way.
“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!”
But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up.
The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did.
…
Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again.
The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next?
Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake.
Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath.
“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress.
“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”
Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.
You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.
The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed.
You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.
Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything.
You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin.
“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”
What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble.
Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.
Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry.
“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”
Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart.
You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.
You tried. Really, you did.
Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–
“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort.
Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could.
Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest.
Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.
“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night.
He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not.
“Was I screaming?”
“I mean, a little bit–”
You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself.
“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”
Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth.
“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”
Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”
“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”
One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised.
“What?” you asked.
“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”
“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.”
Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.
“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly.
“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.”
Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”
Tyler’s face lit up in surprise.
“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.”
Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”
Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”
Tyler nodded.
“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either.
“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”
You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely.
“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”
Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you.
“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you.
It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it?
“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.”
Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”
Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.”
“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”
Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”
“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed.
Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later.
“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”
He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it.
“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased.
“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked.
“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.
#tyler owens#tyler owens fic#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x reader imagine#tyler owens x reader fic#tyler owens x reader fanfic#twisters imagine#twisters x reader#twisters#twisters fanfic#twisters x reader fanfic
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List of “not-so-random suggestive and non-suggestive” prompts
“How was your sleep?” “Mm.. It was good. Better.” “Better how?” “Better because you’re here.” (THE WAY I GOT SO FLUSTERED WTF)
“That’s my girl/boy,” Character B murmurs in a hushed voice, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair while Character A rests their head on their chest, trying to catch their breath. (THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT INTERNALLY, THE AUDACITY HE AUDACITIED??? WHAT THE FUCK??? EXCUSEEEE MEEEEEE??? BTW, SIR, HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS IN THE MORNING-)
“Fuck, you turn me on so much with the noises you make,” Character B groans, thrusting their hips up into Character A’s and Character A whimpering softly at that. (Okay so I added the fuck at the start because it’s hotter this way bUTTTT WKGKSKFS PLSSSSS I JUST- OH MY GOD, I think I just realised that dialogue to me is SO IMPORTANT LMFAOOO)
“There are two hot things in this room right now: you, and the temperature.” (LET ME BREATHE, DAMNNNN)
“Mmm, I’m gonna hog the bed so you can’t get on,” Character A murmurs, laying sprawled out on the bed. “That’s fine, I can just lay on you,” Character B says, making their way to the bed. “…Are you calling me a bed?” Character A questions as Character B gets on top of them, careful not to crush them under their weight. “Yeah, you're my bed,” Character B murmurs, snuggling close to Character A. (FUCKCKKCKXKDKKSKGKAKD HE’S JUST OUT HERE FLIRTING TO THE MAX WITH ME AND LEAVING ME SPEECHLESS TF)
“I told you my bed’s cozy,” Character B says, chuckling as they make their way over to Character A, who’s snuggled up under the covers. They pull the cover back and climb into the bed next to Character A, wrapping their arms around them. “And now it’s even cozier,” Character B murmurs into Character A’s neck. “Because you’re here?” Character A questions playfully. “Yeah,” Character B answers.
A laughter filled tickling play fight session somehow turning into them making out, turning into Character A straddling Character B, head thrown back in pleasure as they grind their hips against Character B’s while Character B holds onto their hips, thrusts matching the momentum of Character A’s movements.
Spending way too much time tickling each other, peals of laughter coming from them both as they both try to attack each other’s sensitive spots. (His laughter is so cute AND I REALLY MISS HIM PLS WJDSK)
Morning cuddles and kisses as sunlight spills into the room.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good once we get there, yeah?” (MY HONEST REACTION WAS LITERALLY “???” I JUST?? WHAT?? SINCE WHEN WAS HE- AND HIM SWEARING? HOT HOT HOT HOT WKGKAKS)
Character A taking Character B’s hand into theirs while they’re driving. “You can drive with one hand, right?” they ask with a little grin, and Character B chuckles and nods. “Of course I can.” (HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND IS SO HOT BYE)
Character B guiding the speed of Character A’s hips as Character A grinds against them. (can he PLEASE manhandle me-)
“Okay, I’ll let you tickle me wherever you want if you give me one kiss.” (He lied a few times AHAHA, dodged my attacks instead after I gave him his kisses bruhhh)
Character B lending their clothes to Character A since Character A’s staying the night. (The way I smelled like him AHHHH)
The soft “yeah?” Character B would mutter in response when they’re messing around with Character A and noises would fall from Character A’s mouth, involuntarily.
Stopping their play fight every now and again to kiss each other.
Character B flirting with Character A and Character A not knowing how to respond other than half groaning and half laughing and calling them insufferable (affectionately). (Like I said, I’m romantically constipated-)
Character B laughing every time Character A calls them annoying and insufferable whenever they flirt with them.
Character A leaning in to kiss Character B… And then using that opportunity to tickle them when Character B’s guards are down.
Them just laughing with each other at the dumbest shit until they’re out of breath; finding comfort and joy in each other’s company.
Character A teasing Character B with how ticklish they are on certain spots.
Character B tugging at the hem of Character A’s top, wanting to take it off, but Character A shakes their head and Character B immediately respects that by backing off a bit. (I’m including this because I don’t think people understand that any signs of no means no. Some people need to take notes for real)
“So… Are you going to stay over tonight?” “…Mm, maybe next time.” “You always say next time, though.” (EWLKNFWELN He really wanted me to stay, and I clearly folded so um pwnfewklnf)
“I’m sorry if I’m like… Slow with all of this? I’m not experienced with any of this, and I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t think I’m ready for… You know.” “And that’s fine. Like I said, we’ll take it slow; we’ve got all the time in the world to get comfortable with each other, hm?” (WHEN I SAY I WAS GOING WEKJFNEWJKNEWFLN WHEN HE REASSURED ME, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AHHH)
Character B climbing back into bed after taking their morning shower to get more cuddles in with Character A before they have to go to work.
“You can just change in here if you want.” (WO4HKLWFN THIS FUCKING MAN LMFAOOO, the way I didn’t listen and went to the bathroom to change because I’m still feeling too embarrassed to change in front of him even though he’s kind of seen me topless before)
Hugging each other a little tighter, and Character A mumbling, “God, I really don’t want to leave” before they part ways.
“The way you keep running around in my mind everyday… How dare you?” Character A mumbles. “Well, is there a problem with that?” Character B questions with a chuckle. (I’m bold for this one, praise me LKNEFKLNWG)
The constant check ins from Character B, to make sure Character A’s all good and well. (every prompt list has this because it’s something I’ll always fucking harp on about lmao)
Character B grasping Character A’s wrists so they’d stop attacking their ticklish spots, pulling them in for a kiss instead. (He did this SO MANY TIMES AND FAILED SO MANY TIMES AHAHA, I’m a sneaky menace)
Character A pulling the Spiderman kiss on Character B while Character B’s lying down. (I WANNA KISS HIM MORE FUCKSLKFNES’F)
Character A waking up in Character B’s clothes and in their bed, hair all mussed up and sporting a faint mark on their neck. (I think I uh… I think I like having marks on my neck?? Made by him, specifically, IDK wpeofnew;nf)
Get home safe! Love you lots and lots, Character B texts Character A. (THE WAY I SMILED WHEN I SAW HIS TEXT WHILE HEADING TO THE STATION AHAHA, it wasn’t even ten minutes since we parted and he sent me this and I was fangirling about it to my friends AHAHA)
“Aren’t you going to get up now? You gotta get to work,” Character A says, poking Character B’s side. “Mmm, five more minutes,” Character B murmurs, pulling Character A closer to them. (HE’S SO CLINGY AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH AHDFOEKNF)
Character A realising they might actually be falling in love, slowly but surely, with Character B. (YEAH SO THIS IS A REVELATION AND A HALF AND IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT IT)
#long post#based on personal experience 😮💨#so sorry for all of the commentary HAHAH#and yes before you say anything i’m living the fanfic life for you all LESNFNLK#cat guy chronicles#writing prompts#prompts#dialogue prompts#writing scenarios#otp prompts#suggestive prompts#smut prompts#fluff prompts#non-suggestive prompts
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Growing Pains Pt 2 | Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Suggestive content.
2024 season. Childhood sweethearts. No facelaim, just rando Pinterest pics
This acc just ended up being Landoscar fluff because I consumed too much of them after Silverstone lol
F1 Masterlist
prev.
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mclaren just posted
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mclaren oscar’s post race interviews #bahraingp
2,559 comments
mclaren please enjoy some clips of our aussie talking about the one aspect of his life NOT involved with his job
→ user1 did mclaren just hard launch a relationship?
→ user2 no because why did they post clips that specifically don’t mention a name
→ user3 yes but the familiarity of the way he’s talking about this girl must mean it’s one he’s known since he was 14???
danielricciardo caught simping in 4k
thisisnotyn oscar sweaty got me feeling some kind of way
charles_leclerc oh god, that goofy smile is back. i know what that means
→ maxverstappen1 he’s going to start yapping more than i do
→ user4 what do you know?!
alex_albon mate, i’m not going to lie, i don’t think we can defend you from this anymore
→ oscarpiastri you sent me memes of my face. you have never defended me
→ georgerussell63 join the club. wait until he sends you reaction gifs
→ landonorris i love getting those
YourUserName pookie
→ user5 um, is she calling oscar pookie?
→ user6 well, it’s not going to be lando. he was only in one of the clips
→ user7 idk, we don’t know what happened between them. it could’ve been a bad breakup and she might be trying to piss them off
→ landonorris ew, no. it’s not me. they made up weeks ago btw. no way osco would’ve lasted this long without his yn
→ YourUserName what do you mean ew! you’d be lucky to have me
→ danielricciardo no he wouldn’t
oscarpiastri i also talked a lot about my performance in the race
→ landonorris and where is that footage, huh??? funny how it doesn’t exist
→ oscapiastri yn says you’re not allowed to tag along to date night anymore because you insulted both of us
→ landonorris :(
→ user8 what do you mean he tagged along on date night?
→ user9 why are we skipping past the fact that lando confirmed that they’re back together
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName ladies, get a boyfriend who looks at you the way Oscar looks at Lando (actually, can you get me one first because mine seems to be broken)
1,142 comments
oscarpiastri whoa, you told me i was a handsome boy. that photo doesn’t look like a handsome boy
→ YourUserName some people are into the serial killer eyes. not me though, that’s why i’m asking the fans to find me a new bf
→ logansargeant i’ll help
→ user10 we know which side logan is choosing in the divorce
landonorris how does it feel to know that your boyfriend likes me more
→ YourUserName i know how to cut brake lines
→ landonorris 😰😰
→ mclaren yn, please don’t threaten our drivers
→ YourUserName hey, i’ll take them both out if they don’t end their affair
→ oscarpiastri and here i was thinking you would cut his brake lines so i could get on the podium instead
→ YourUserName sure, we can go with that
user11 can we take a moment to enjoy the fact that they’ve been back together for 4 months and he’s still letting her bully him
→ YourUserName i’m riding the guilt trip until the very end
→ oscarpiastri i love you
→ YourUserName i know
→ landonorris but not as much as he loves me!
→ YourUserName i know where you sleep
→ landonorris yeah, with your boyfriend!
→ oscarpiastri don’t tell the internet that!
danielricciardo lando used to look at me that way
→ YourUserName i think we should start a spurned wags group
→ danielricciardo i’ll bring the wine
→ YourUserName i’ll bring the lightning mcqueen crocs
→ liamlawson30 can i join?
oscarpiastri sweetheart, you know you’re the light of my life
→ YourUserName didn’t feel that way when you guided lando away from a puddle and let me put my foot right in it
→ oscarpiastri i gave you my socks!
→ YourUserName they were sweaty
→ oscarpiastri it’s all i had…
→ mclaren yn, please stop bullying him. we can hear him crying from his driver’s room
→ user12 no because the fact that the majority of mclaren admin’s online interactions are just begging yn to behave
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oscarpiastri just posted
liked by logansargeant, YourUserName and others
oscarpiastri when you say date night and she says I’m not putting pants on
2,329 comments
YourUserName thank you for sharing your pizza with me after i burnt mine <3
→ oscarpiastri i can’t wait to share more with you
landonorris did she hide in your neck at the scary parts
→ oscarpiastri no she fucking laughed at the way he was running
→ landonorris you cuddled into her neck at the scary parts, didn’t you
→ oscarpiastri i plead the fifth
→ YourUserName it’s okay, princess, you know i’ll always protect you
logansargeant no because they had their ‘date night’ 3 days ago and the paintings they did of each other are hanging in their bathroom, and when i tell you they were a shock to the system
→ user13 logan, show them to us, please
YourUserName it’s not my fault that it’s hard to keep pants on when you’re around
liked by oscarpiastri
→ mclaren we talked about this
→ landonorris my eyes!
→ user14 @ aussiegrit come get your kids
→ YourUserName don’t tag him in it. mark still thinks i’m nice
→ oscarpiastri no, he knows you’re a gremlin
arthur_leclerc not you trying to pretend that you are romantic when you asked me for all of those ideas
→ YourUserName oh really?
→ oscarpiastri i had a whole night planned and you decided you didn’t want to go out!
→ alex_albon no because you really had him stressing
→ georgerussell63 he was even messaging the grid group chat
→ danielricciardo he had a whole group of guys debating the best alternative to rose petals
→ YourUserName because i don’t like roses 🥹 oh, osc. it was perfect
→ oscarpiastri 🤍🤍
→ user15 anyone else finding this suspicious
charles_leclerc a date night to remember, i’m sure. and not for the lack of pants
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user1 rough night in the piastri house, he’s upset mom and wifey
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, oscar. please don’t bring yn with you
→ YourUserName you’re just jealous that i didn’t want dinner with you
→ maxverstappen1 wait, i thought i was your favourite. why don’t you want dinner with me?
→ charles_leclerc you are welcome for dinner anytime, yn
→ oscarpiastri see, what you’ve done. now lestappen are fighting. you promised to keep your crushes to yourself
user2 i love how now that oscar is past his rookie year, his true personality of being a gremlin has come out
→ user3 now that shy oscar has gone we’re seeing just how well he pairs with yn
→ arthur_leclerc and i can guarantee the grid are missing shy oscar. i have had to put up with this since 2021
→ georgerussell63 i can confirm we do
→ logansargeant now you understand why i prefer to be quiet. if you don’t talk, they can’t bully you
→ georgerussell63 my name on yn’s phone is amelia georgehart
→ oscarpiastri we’ve been together for years and mine is peestri pants, count yourself lucky
→ YourUserName lando’s is just fucker.
→ landonorris the full stop included?
nicolepiastri i have some questions
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YourUserName just posted
liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and others
YourUserName weekends away with you
1,012 comments
YourUserName thank you for a lovely weekend away from the madness. i could spend forever with you in our little bubble
→ danielricciardo oh wow so you’re both simps?
→ YourUserName look away! i have a reputation to maintain
→ oscarpiastri no you don’t. you luuuuurve me
landonorris i can’t believe you left me behind
charles_leclerc remove your head from that poor girl’s shirt. i raised you better than that
pierregasly someone convince kiks to do this with me. she refuses to go camping
→ francisca.cgomes because neither of us would survive sleeping on the ground
→ oscarpiastri neither would yn if not for the fact that we camped in the back garden
→ YourUserName why would i want to go somewhere without a functioning toilet!
logansargeant where is your shirt. nobody wants to see that
→ YourUserName i think you’ll find that i did
→ oscarpiastri she’s a big fan
mclaren please come back, we miss you
→ oscarpiastri yn says she still has another weekend before she has to return me
→ mclaren we were talking to yn
→ YourUserName miss you too, boo 🧡
→ landonorris why don’t you speak to me like that
→ YourUserName ‘cause you stole my osc
→ oscarpiastri no one could take me from you
user4 no because that last pic screams engagement photo and i don't know why
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charles_leclerc just posted
liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others
charles_leclerc i am an incredibly proud father right now
10,226 comments
oscarpiastri in other words, i convinced the prettiest girl in the world to marry me
→ YourUserName and now i have the prettiest husband in the world
user5 how is lando taking oscar looking at someone else that way?
→ landonorris not well
→ danielricciardo he cried the whole day
→ YourUserName that’s why i gave him my flowers
→ landonorris no i earnt those!
→ lilymhe yeah, i still have the bruises!
user6 miss rabbit has fainted
YourUserName i enjoyed our father-daughter dance
→ fernandoalo_official @ aussiegrit the monegasque is trying to steal our children
→ oscarpiastri now i’m in trouble with mark
→ YourUserName i’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon
→ oscarpiastri 😳☺️
user6 fuck you to all the bitches who said they wouldn’t last because they’ve never dated anyone else
mclaren what a beautiful couple. i think we need to put those up around MTC
→ YourUserName i think zak would really appreciate them in his office
→ oscarpiastri what makes you think i haven’t already put them up around MTC. gotta keep my wife with me wherever i go
→ YourUserName stop making me giggle
user7 definition of soulmates
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, yn. even though i asked oscar to leave you behind when he was adopted
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YourUserName just posted
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others
YourUserName i made something
10,229 comments
nicolepiastri and an amazing job you did, sweetheart
→ YourUserName i love you 💗
→ user8 nicer to mama piastri than she is to her own husband
oscarpiastri i helped
→ YourUserName you contributed for like 2 seconds
→ oscarpiastri stop being mean to me or i may fall in love with you
→ landonorris 2 second wonder
→ YourUserName you would know
charles_leclerc i’m too handsome to be a grandpapa
→ YourUserName certified gilf
→ oscarpiastri i cannot believe you made me read that. i thought you were better than this
→ YourUserName whoa, i have never been better than this and you know that but i can blame it on baby hormones this time
→ charles_leclerc and oscar will let you get away with it
→ oscarpiastri damn right. she just had my baby
landonorris does this mean i get the chance to win godfather of the year
→ danielricciardo don’t tell me they actually named you godfather. you can barely keep yourself alive
→ logansargeant yn got to pick me so oscar was given the choice to pick the other
→ oscarpiastri we made the decision together as loving parental unit
→ YourUserName the decision was made whilst i was high on gas and motherly love
→ oscarpiastri stop making it sound like i coerced you
→ YourUserName you had your top off! of course i was coerced. piastitties
→ mclaren yn, no
oscarpiastri sweetheart, i have loved you every day since we were 14 and being by your side these past 9 months, watching you go through such a monumental change, only proved that it was possible for me to love you even more. i can’t wait to see our family grow 💕
→ YourUserName i love you so much, oscie. from growing with you to growing our own mini us, i’d go through all the pain again for forever with you
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Hi, guys. If you have requested previously, I promise they're coming. I've just got them added to my list
Baby Fever Angst Series
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 17
Somewhere in the back of Bruce’s mind, there a voice that was grateful that no one Bruce had slept with had experimented on their own child. With Talia and himself there were already lines that had been crossed, but what Danny had been through was another level of horrible. Which is why that tiny voice didn’t mater.
This wasn’t about Bruce, this was about Danny. Danny who looked ready to bolt again. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s still cold cheek.
“Danny, being my clone doesn’t make being my son any less true.”
“That’s not—” Danny’s eyes welled with tears again and he leaned into the touch even as his foot scooted backwards. “That’s not how it works.”
“It does for us. Our family is messy. It’s complicated and confusing and… wonderful,” Bruce said. He spoke slowly both so that his words were clear, but also so that he could find the right words. “It’s a butler and orphans, assassins and demi-gods, sons and daughters and sometimes people who are neither. You being a clone is just one more thing in that mix. You’re still my son, if you’d like to be.”
“You can’t want me, I’m dead,” Danny insisted.
Jason set a pot down, loud enough that Danny’s eyes flickered to him.
“Kid, Danny, that doesn’t mater,” Jason said in a carefully controlled tone. “It’s the same as I’ve said before, they all know I died.”
Danny’s eyes widened, causing the tears to sleep free. He blinked rapidly.
“…Oh.”
-
They’re sat around the living room, each with their own mug of hot chocolate, even Bruce Wayne— even… well, Danny supposed it would be Tim Drake-Wayne, once he had shown up. He had flown through the door as he spoke through gulped breaths of air. He didn’t have a domino on either. They all sipped slowly at their drinks.
They were waiting for him to talk.
Talking seemed an insurmountable challenge.
Danny took another sip of the hot chocolate and licked the sugar sprinkle bat from his lips. He didn’t look at them as he spoke.
“Dick Grayson, Jason Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane. Cassandra Wayne… Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne. I don’t know Spoiler or Oracle. I only… I looked up Bruce Wayne on a library computer after I ran. That’s why I know.”
“Close friends of the family,” Mr. Wayne said.
“And ex-girlfriends,” Night— Dick spoke up.
“Right. Red— Tim said him and Spoiler had dated.” Danny mumbled. He glanced over at Hood from under his bangs. Hood… Jason? Hood. Too many changes. Hood hadn’t said anything since he had revealed everything.
He must have noticed Danny looking though, because he sent a melancholy smile Danny’s way. “I get it. We kept a really huge piece of information from you, but we didn’t lie. When we said you had us no matter what Bruce Wayne did, we meant it.”
“But he’s your dad.”
“And that means we're all very good at not listening to him,” Tim said proudly.
Mr. Wayne just gave an amused snort at that.
“Dandelion,” Hood said, ignoring his family, “the first time that you looked up at Red and I we both clocked who you were instantly.”
“Not the clone part,” Red added.
This time it was Danny who gave a little snort.
(Fuck, they even snorted the same.)
Hood just flicked Red off. Tim. “Sure, not the clone part.”
“Because someone wouldn’t let me take DNA,” Tim interrupted again.
“It’s corrupted anyways,” Danny said and suddenly all eyes were on him again. He ducked his head down into a shrug. “From my death. This form I guess it would match enough? But my ghost form wouldn’t be any help.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Tim said softly. “But also Hood was right, you didn’t deserve us doing that to you right then, even if I just wanted to help. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t know that you came from Bruce. You just came from him in a different way than we thought.”
“You were family right away, kid,” Hood said. “If didn’t matter your name or pronouns or history or if you’ve died or even that you’re a clone. As soon as we got a good look at you, you were family.”
Danny could feel the tears coming again and he wiped at his eyes in frustration. He wanted to just stop crying today.
“You could have been wrong,” Danny said. They didn’t get it, why didn’t they get it?
“Could have. But you were still a hurt kid that needed help,” Hood said.
“You don’t need blood to be family,” Dick said. “Me and Jason and Tim and Cass and Duke… Alfred, none of have blood with each other or Bruce and Damian. If you had turned out to not be related to Bruce at all? Well, you were already family.”
The tears came now and Danny couldn’t stop them. The hot chocolate was taken carefully from his hands by Jason while Dick pulled him into a hug.
“I don’t— I don’t get it,” Danny said through the sobs. “Why can you all— why can you all love me after a month when they— when my— when the people that were supposed to be my parents never did?”
“Danny—”
“They killed me!” Danny roared. He was shaking now and Dick help him tighter. “They made me just to kill me and cut me into pieces! I was their son! I was…. I was their son. Why couldn’t they love me?”
Between one blink and the next Mr. Wayne was up from his chair and in front of Danny. His large hand was so warm on Danny’s cheek. Danny sobbed harder.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know because you are so loveable. It’s something wrong with them, not with you. I already know you’re wonderful and I can’t wait to get to know you more.”
Danny didn’t get it.
Danny didn’t believe it yet.
But god did Danny want it.
Danny flung himself forwards, landing in the arms that were waiting to catch him, and let himself cry.
-
“Nose bleed stopped and he’s resting now. Jay is staying in there with him in case he wakes,” Dick said as he closed the door to Danny’s bedroom softly behind him. A sad, wet blue lump was in his other hand. “We’ll try to get his bear dried out, it was in the bag he took.”
“See if the dryer has an air dry setting,” Bruce said. When both sons in the room looked at him in surprise he just gave a little shrug. “Dickie used to play with Zitka outside all the time. I learned to help make sure she was always ready for bed.”
Dickie gave a little laugh. It was heavily tinged with stress, but it was a laugh. Bruce would take what he could get right then. Jay still had a job, so he’d be alright for now. Dick would need to stay busy and close to people, but both those would do most of the work for the moment. It was Tim that Bruce had to worry about the moment; he was being very silent.
“Tim, chum, are you done with your drink?”
Tim blinked up from staring down at said drink. “What?”
Bruce crouched down in front of Tim (trying not to think of how he crouched down in front of a sobbing Danny just a bit ago) and took the mug. “What are you turning over in that head of yours, chum?”
Tim fiddled with his nails now that the mug was out of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t stop it unless Tim managed to make himself bleed. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last.
“Sweetheart?”
“It’s going to take him a long time to believe us— this,” Tim said, the words almost a rush.
Bruce nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
“And he could run again,” Tim continued, still speaking quickly. “It could all be going well and then suddenly he could be thinking of running again because he’s doubting things.”
“Okay Tim,” Bruce said with careful words. His mind was running through all the times when Tim had pulled away from the family, “what do you think we can do to help that?”
Tim shrugged and looked away. “I guess— I mean, saying things to him is good but it won’t get as far as actions. And those actions need to include making him feeling useful.”
“But—” Dick started, the dryer now rumbling away in the linen closet.
“I’m not saying make him do work,” Tim interrupted. “But until he can consistently believe that we want him in the family, him feeling useful will help give him a reason to stay. As long as he’s useful, he won’t think that there’s no reason for him to stay when he thinks no one wants him around.”
Gently, Bruce reached out and took Tim’s hand away from where his cuticle had started to split and bleed. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spot gently. “We’ll make sure to offer him ways to help out. We’ll talk as a family about where the lines will be and what sort of work is alright, especially as Danny is still healing.”
Tim took a careful breath and nodded. “Good.”
“And Tim?” Bruce waited until Tim was looking at him to continue. “I love you and I’m very glad that you are part of this family.”
-
Bruce sent Dick back to the manor after Cass arrived. They talked about what was best and agreed together that for Danny, Bruce still needed to be here in the morning. Bruce knew Dick hated to leave, but he was the other one who could handle Damian and whatever moods this may have invoked. And they were both worried about pulling Jason away from Danny right then.
Once Dick had wrangled Damian, they all had a meeting. Jason joined in with headphones Tim delivered and stayed mostly silent. Alfred lingered behind Dick’s shoulder.
Bruce went over the day, doing his best to treat it like a debrief just so that he could get through it without his heart breaking the rest of the way.
Danny had run of his own volition, afraid that those who had hurt him would find them. He was most afraid of them hurting Jason and Damian. (Dick pulled Damian close). He wasn’t Bruce’s son, biologically speaking, but his clone. They would try, with permission, to take some blood and analyze it soon. There were worries about the state of Danny’s DNA that Bruce wanted them to look into, for Danny’s safety.
There was worry any tests might set Danny off.
Danny knew about their identities, though they did not share Stephanie and Barbara’s name— both girls gave their go ahead. He seemed confused, but alright. They had to be ready for a possible out burst over it later after everything that had sunk in.
They would be sure to give Danny things to do that made him a quick part of the family, Bruce wanted everyone to think what those would be. There was to be nothing that was patrolling or anything dangerous. They would all agree on the list.
When Bruce ran out of things to say, Alfred stepped forward, there as always to help with the next step. “Is there anything specific I should prepare for his room?”
“Blue,” Cass suggested.
“Stars,” Tim said from where he was tucked into Cass’ side. “He likes space. Maybe one of those projectors that turns the ceiling into the night sky?”
“Soft blankets,” Jason spoke, a quiet addition.
“An air diffuser, natural scents like flowers and earth,” Dick chimed in.
“A… a pet,” Damian said, words uncharacteristically hesitant, though he straightened up defiantly at the look of confusion on everyone’s face. “If he is a flight risk, then a pet will be something he stays for. It will also be a responsibility for him that is little effort and not dangerous. Also, when he needs company but the family is… overwhelming, his pet will be there for him. There are many cats and some suitable dogsat the shelter right now, I will take him.”
Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a little smile. “That’s a very good idea, thank you. I’m sure Danny would like your help, after we introduce you two properly.”
Damian nodded, though that slight uncertainty was still there in the curve of his shoulders.
“Dami?” Dick prompted.
“When will I be able to meet him? Properly.”
“How about in a few days, before we move him to the manor, I’ll bring you over with me, okay ayouni? We can bring lunch with us and have a meal together,” Bruce offered.
Damian nodded sharply, a slight smile on his lips. “Acceptable.”
“Good. We will try to have everyone over before we move Danny, which will be mostly on his timetable. For now, everyone get some rest.”
There was a chime of voices agreeing to that and signing off. Bruce made sure he was the last to leave the call.
---
AN: It's... mmm... not great day, so you all are getting this now instead of tomorrow when ao3 updates. Stay delightful, darlings <3
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Waiting for a scene where Buck and Eddie are discussing their dating woes at the station, and Buck jokes, “Maybe we should spare the Los Angeles population and just date each other.”
And while Eddie laughs it off, Hen swoops in to say, “No, I think you might be onto something.”
Eddie suddenly stops laughing as Buck goes, “Huh?”
“Why not just date each other?” Hen asks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Chimney laughs, “Hell, you’re already practically a couple.”
And while Buck and Eddie stammer out no we’re not and it’s not like that. Chimney crosses his arms and looks at Buck. “What was it that you said to me and Maddie about how we were already a couple? Something about how ‘you always are talking and texting, you do karaoke together, you do buff-fridays together, and you finish each other’s sentences…’”
“You remember that with a shockingly high amount of detail,” Buck says to try to turn the conversation away from him.
“And Buck and I don’t do ‘Buff-Fridays’ together…”
“We do pasta and a movie with Chris,” Buck says, finishing Eddie’s sentence.
Hen and Chimney exchange a look.
Eddie frowns and says, “Okay, we do those things, but how are we any different from the two of you?”
Chimney deadpans, “When I first met Hen, I definitely didn’t want to sleep with her.”
“Hey! Maddie promised not to tell you that!”
“And she didn’t,” Chimney says with a smirk, “but you just confirmed my suspicions.”
Hen has the audacity to cackle while Buck and Eddie both shoot her a look which only spurs her on. She’s practically wheezing when she says, “You two are also practically co-parenting Christopher.”
“Which isn’t what people do when they’re dating. Sure, they can love my kid, but they can’t parent them. Now Buck is my best friend so he… he can… give him advice and help out…” Eddie argues weakly while Buck’s heart skips a beat because Eddie just practically said yes, Buck is a parent to Chris.
Finally Bobby joins the conversation to add, “You’re right. People who are casually dating usually don’t coparent a child. But people who are married do.”
This sends Chimney and Hen cackling while they gasp, “Oh my god. You guys aren’t just dating. You’re married.”
And before Eddie or Buck can argue with them, Ravi innocently asks, “But you guys broke up for a reason, right? I know you guys work great together, but getting back with your ex is usually a bad idea.”
Everyone just stares at him as Eddie defensively asks, “Since when did we ever date?”
And Ravi’s jaw drops as he answers, “I mean. When I joined the one-eighteen everyone said it was better to stay out of the whole Buck and Eddie thing and not ask questions. And someone told me about this fight in the middle of a grocery store which I thought meant a breakup but… oh god.”
Of course, Buck and Eddie can’t get a single word in as Hen, Chimney, and even Bobby start laughing as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. The only thing that gets them to stop is when the bell rings, but even on the ride over, everyone - except Buck and Eddie - seem to have the giggles.
After the call, which is just a minor fender bender, everyone thankfully takes the advice given to Ravi and gives Buck and Eddie some space. But for the rest of the shift, the two just kind of stew in silence with their own thoughts.
At the end of the shift, everyone fleas from the locker area so Buck and Eddie are left alone. And after a few moments of torturous silence, Buck finally asks, “Why aren’t we dating?”
“Buck.”
“I mean they’re right. We’ve practically been dating this whole time - married even - just without the… physical stuff.”
Eddie just shrugs. “Physical stuff has ruined every relationship I’ve ever had.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“But it has.” Eddie emphasizes his point by harshly shutting his locker and turning to Buck. “Why should I risk what you have with Chris - what you have with me - just for sex?”
“Because maybe it’s worth the risk. And maybe it wouldn’t be just sex. Eddie, you already have me. More than anyone else ever has. So why not date?”
“Buck…” Eddie trails off, endless emotions in that name.
Buck pushes on, stepping closer to him, “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t try. And if you can’t give me a valid reason, then let me take you on a date.” Buck smiles softly. “I mean, we were already planning on getting breakfast in the morning. But this time I could pick you up and maybe hold your hand at the tabl-”
“Evan,” Eddie finally says which makes Buck’s heart drop. “Just… give me some time to think about it, okay?”
And Buck nods and holds his hands up while backing away. “Got it. Sorry for pushing. We can pretend it was a joke.” He tries not to look the way he feels - absolutely heartbroken.
Eddie just gives him a weak smile and grabs his things before heading toward the door only to stop in his tracks and walk to Buck. “Hey.”
Buck glances up at him, searching his expression for something.
Eddie grabs his shoulder, thumb resting above his collarbone. “We’re still good for breakfast tomorrow?”
Buck smiles and nods. “Yeah. Always.”
“Good,” Eddie states, lingering in the moment before his thumb moves slightly, caressing Buck’s collarbone for a moment before he steps away and leaves without another word.
Buck watches as he goes, placing his hand over where Eddie’s was. He can’t help but wonder if Eddie was testing the waters with that swipe of his thumb or trying to soothe Buck in his own way.
It’s only a few hours later when Buck can’t sleep that his phone lights up with a message from Eddie.
Let’s make it a date.
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Some past timeline ppl! One of these days I’ll make Queen a design I’m happy with fjdhfjdh
#keese draws#oc posting#eternal gales#oc art#oc#ocs#furry#furry art#furry oc#trying to tag my staliens art with furry tags more even tho I don’t rlyyy consider them furries fhfjdgjf#anyways! quick pronoun recap brute uses they/them like butter but button uses he/him and queen she/her#oh and this isn’t to scale ofc brute is way taller than the other two#but ya button and queen both have more coloration in their manes than busy and dancer due to better nutrition#since softie became a bit famous and they got more in person friends sooner they had more access to resources#so while they still had some starving periods enough so to still leave them rly short they’ve been having enough food for a while now#well enough food to have more proper mane coloration than busy and dancer they evidently still don’t have That much#they’re just generally healthier#and they can reliably eat most days by the start of their story so they’re doing ok#they also have more access to warmer spaces to sleep so they never needed clothes#but ya since button didn’t go through busy’s oh god we could die at any second crisis he’s a lot less uptight than her#he doesn’t see himself as responsible for the others cause of the same thing and as such presents a lot more casually#hense the long mane and more casual pronouns#don’t let this make you think he doesn’t have issues god knows he has Issues#and most of them surround softie lol#queen on the other hand never had dancer’s snap to reality either and as such still sees herself as above button and softie#she and dancer have a lot of similar issues queen just. doesn’t try to manage them like dancer does#and after an incident where button and softie accidentally left them in a burning building and mason had to save her themself she became a#lot more actively hostile towards the two believing them to be out to kill her for being a threat to softie#she HATES how much everyone worships softie and doesn’t understand why ppl will reward them for the exact same things ppl shun her for#she just generally feels very isolated and lonely and paranoid all the time
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omg i remember your peaches and coconut fics hows my fav couple especially daddy eren i hope as freaky as ever 🤗☺️☺️
they’re doing soooo good!! you remember that fat rock and big house he promised you?? well he was able to get them for you and much more. take a walk with me real quick babe—
this is 18+ so mdni thank yewww!!! cw include: black coded reader, eren being a dad, some talk about church stuff (not rlly), mentions of sexcapades w jean hehe (literally a whole ass flashback of reader giving them both head), oral m and f receiving, eren eating it over her panties, shoe humping, mentions of a lactation kink, unprotected sex, kinda public sex?? they fuck in a bathroom, creampie bc would it rlly be a fic by me if no one was getting nutted in? NOT PROOFREAD SAWRY </3
“ren? rennyyy,” eren’s eyes cracked open at the sound of your soft voice, quickly connecting with yours. you were sitting on his stomach, hands resting on his chest while your cute lil cross necklace dangled in his face. he shifted his head the tiniest bit to read the alarm clock—
6:37 A.M.
why were you waking him up so early?? it couldn’t be for sex…no…he fucked you back to sleep around two, he couldn’t hear any noise coming from your daughters’ baby monitor, he didn’t see your eldest daughter curled up next to him so what could it be??
“it’s sunday eren.”
fuckkkkk. “oh…right,” eren let out a deep sigh, shutting his eyes once more. it was sunday— which means church, which means seeing his father, which means making pointless small talk with your parents, which means hearing your daughters whine and cry about how tired they are and how they don’t wanna go to the church daycare.
“why don’t we just stay in this sunday hm?” eren said, voice laced with tiredness. he brought his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh tenderly. you giggled, burying your face in his neck that still smelled of his body wash.
“very veryyyy tempting but i promised my mom we’d be there this week, plus we haven’t been in a couple weeks anyway,” you kissed at his neck, making him squeeze your hips harder.
unlike both your guys’ parents you and eren do not attend church every weekend and aren’t quite as religious, especially eren. the only reason he attends is because it’s what you want, and he’s not one to object anything his wife wants so he just sucks it up and goes.
“c’mere,” eren muttered, bringing his hands from your hips to your silky smooth thighs. you leant down and he was quick to capture your lips in a kiss, humming in content when you kissed him back. eren bit down unexpectedly on your bottom lip making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.
you laced your fingers in his soft, brown locks before giving them a harsh tug, breaking the heated kiss. “get ready we leave in an hour….and you may need to take a cold shower,” you giggled, giving his pouting lips one more kiss before making your way to your daughters’ room to wake them. eren glanced down at his semi and threw his head back in annoyance. a cold shower was indeed needed.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“but i don’t wanna go!” your eldest daughter stomped her foot in protest, her big brown eyes welling up with tears. eren sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with her, “it’s just for an hour, see that clock up there? once the little hand is on the 9 mommy and i will get you and we’ll get something special for lunch! how does that sound sweet thing?”
she sniffled and slowly nodded, reaching her arms out to get one last hug from him before you left her with the church daycare. “that’s my girl. mommy, sissy, and i will see you in a bit okay?” he gave her chubby cheek a fat kiss, and wiped her tears before handing her off to the caretaker.
“you’re such a good daddy,” you whispered in eren’s ear, giving the spot below his ear a soft kiss. eren cleared his throat, uttering out a small ‘thank you’. god you were going to be the death of him.
“let me carry this for you,” he didn’t wait for your response, taking the carrier that was holding your youngest. she was fast asleep and by the grace of god hopefully it would stay that way.
you and eren walked hand in hand into the chapel, immediately being greeted by people you’ve known since you were teenagers. you did most of the talking which eren was thankful for, oh how lucky he was to have married a certified yapper.
“y/n?”
you whipped your head around, your mouth dropping slightly in shock. “jean? oh my goodness how are you?” you giggled, bringing him in for a bone crushing hug. eren kissed his teeth, choosing to skip the reunion and instead find your parents to sit with them. you rolled your eyes at him, giggling once more. six years of dating and four years of being married and he still was so possessive. you wouldn’t change a thing about it though.
“he hasn’t changed i see,” jean chuckled, scratching at the scuff on his jaw. you glanced at eren once more, just to find him already looking at the both of you, brows furrowed. “nope…still the same eren we all know and love.” love was an understatement to you though—eren was your moon and stars, your reason for breathing, he was everything to you. he had once told you before—while he was balls deep inside you that he wanted to claim you mind, body, and soul and you would say he definitely succeeded.
you and jean talked for a few more minutes before going your separate ways to find your seats before service started. the second you sat down eren wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. he nuzzled his nose in your hair, internally melting at the smell of peaches and coconut. after all these years it was still your signature scent, and never failed to make his heart beat faster and his dick jump.
“jean sounds like he’s doing pretty good….said he’s been doing a lot of traveling,” you spoke softly, resting your hand on eren’s thigh, leaning into his side. eren hummed, suddenly finding more interest in your sleeping daughter. she was the spitting image of you—absolutely perfect in every way.
eren tensed when he felt you squeeze his thigh, “you alright my love? you’re awfully quiet, you aren’t upset with me for making you come here are you?” you looked at him with those doe eyes and he immediately felt like the biggest asshole in the world.
“of course not baby i never mind coming here with you, you know that. it’s just that i wasn’t expecting him to be here. we haven’t seen him since…you know,” he trailed off, giving your hand a loving squeeze.
it was true—you both hadn’t seen jean since high school which was when your sexcapdes with him were at an all time high. since then eren has never let another man lay a hand on you sexually. you belonged to him and no one else and he belonged to you just as much.
you felt your cheeks get hot at the memories of the three of you messing around, bringing an amused smirk to eren’s face. as much as he was annoyed to see that man it definitely gave him an incentive to tease you a little about it.
eren glanced over at your parents and his mother who were immersed in their own conversation before leaning in close to you. “remember when you sucked us both off at the same time? you looked so pretty, especially with both our nut on your face. remember that baby?” you gasped at his language, elbowing him in the side making him laugh.
before he could say anything else the service finally started. about fifteen minutes into eren’s dad speaking you felt eren’s thumb begin to rub soft circles on your hip, giving it a firm squeeze every now and again. why oh why did he have to bring up those memories of you with him and jean—now it was all your mind could think about.
*flashback*
“a-ah shit! just like that baby,” eren growled at the way you choked around his dick, spit dripping from your chin and onto the new floral printed dress he’d bought for you. while you were using your mouth on eren your free hand was occupied with jean, stroking his dick in the best way possible.
every time you’d gag harshly around eren your hands would accidentally squeeze his tip a little too hard, causing a symphony of moans to slip past his lips—which also happened to have your cherry flavored lip gloss smeared across them. “sucking us so good baby mmh fuck—thank you. say thank you dickhead,” eren growled elbowing jean in the side. your pulled eren out of your mouth with a pop! quickly engulfing jean’s dick in your warm mouth.
jean’s head fell back against the wall, his adams apple bobbing. “t-thank you y/n, thank you so much,” his voice sounding whiny and breathy, and he might’ve cared sounding like that in front of eren if you weren’t making him feel so sooo good. you hummed around his dick, your tongue licking the underside of him to bring him closer to his orgasm.
your jaw was aching and the whole lower side of your face was covered with spit and their pre but you were as content as could be. the way you squeezed your thighs together didn’t go unnoticed by eren, so him being the sweet boyfriend he was gently nudged your thighs apart before pressing his shoe against your pussy. you wasted no time humping his shoe, your little mewls and moans making shivers crawl up jean’s spine.
eren nudged jean, a devilish smirk on his kiss swollen lips. “see the way she’s humping my shoe like a little slut? you fucking wish huh?” he chuckled, his head tilting back in pleasure when you began to play with his balls. jean’s nostrils flared as he took in the way you desperately ground your pussy against eren’s shoe.
“she’s so wet—fuck how is she so wet just from this?” eren let out a breathy laugh because jean did sound genuinely astonished at how soaked you were. “see the way her panties are sticking to her pussy? she’s soaked,” eren pressed his shoe harder against your pussy, snickering at the way your hips stuttered.
it was too much for jean. the way your plump lips suckled on his tip, the way your hand squeezed his base just right, and worst of all—the lewd wet noises coming from your pussy just from humping on eren. “i’m not g’nna last s-she’s gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me cum y/n—”
“not in her fucking mouth you aren’t, how ‘bout we finish on her face? would you like that baby?” eren gripped onto your hair, pulling your off jean’s dick with the tiniest bit of force. your chest heaved up and down as you licked a your swollen lips. the way you looked at him—oh he could’ve taken you right there jean watching or not.
you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and nodded, the sweetest smile now gracing your lips. “yes—please finish on my face,” your hands began to stroke both of their dicks once again, your pussy throbbing at the way they both twitched and throbbed in your hands.
jean was the first to let go of course once he saw you open your mouth, tongue sticking out of course. eren was quick to follow, both of their cum landing on your face in quick spurts. “what a fucking sight this is” eren bit his lip, running his dick over your lips, a chill running down his spine when he felt you suckle on it.
*flashback over*
you felt a particularly harsh squeeze on your side breaking you out of your thoughts. “you’re awfully quiet, i bet you were thinking about it huh? dirty little thing,” eren let out a low chuckle, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. “didn’t we fuck you at the same time that day too? poor thing you were so sore afterwards having two dicks in that little pussy—”
you gasped at his foul language, catching the attention of your parents. “you alright y/n?” your mother asked making you even more flustered. you looked up at eren, then to your mother before standing up. eren’s brows furrowed in confusion when you reached your hand out to him, but he gladly took it anyway.
“my chest is feeling a little sore….i think i just need to go pump or something. do you guys minding watching her for a minute? we’ll be super quick thank you!” you didn’t give them much time to respond before you were dragging eren out of the chapel.
eren pulled you back, stopping you in your tracks, “do you really need to pump? i don’t think i brought the machine with me but i don’t mind leaving to g—” eren was cut off by your lips crashing against his, your hands clutching onto his dress shirt for dear life.
“m’fine ren *kiss* jus’ need you *kiss kiss* really bad” you words were muffled due to your lips never leaving eren’s, but he understood you just fine.
eren grabbed your trembling hand and led you to the nearest bathroom, ushering you into the closest stall the second you entered. “when’s the last time i fucked you here?” eren asked quietly, pushing your front against the stall door. you whined at the sloppy kisses he began to leave on your shoulders and neck, your backside pushing against his growing erection.
“u-um i think it was years ago when—hah! w-we were teenagers,” you let out a breathless laugh at the memory of you both crammed in this same stall, your legs thrown over both his shoulders while he devoured your pussy. eren began to kiss down your neck, then your back until he was kneeling down, face to face with your dress covered backside.
he slowly lifted up your dress, his big hands roaming all around your ass and the fat of your thighs. “m’glad you remember, that’s one of my favorite memories of us. the number one being the day i married you of course,” he chuckled, spreading your ass cheeks to get a glimpse of your already soaked pussy. he licked his lips before taking a long, fat lick up your center, chuckling when he heard you gasp.
even though you were still wearing your panties he could still taste the sweet, yet tangy taste that was you—his beautiful oh so sweet wife. you both stayed like that for a few moments before eren got impatient and yanked your panties to the side, his lips finding your swollen clit with ease.
“r-renny, not so loudddd” you sniffled, reaching your hand back to pull at his hair, running his perfectly styled bun but he didn’t mind in the slightest. your pleas for him to quiet down went in one ear and out the other because if anything it sounded like he was slurping on your pussy even louder than beforehand.
it didn’t take long before you were cumming all over eren’s tongue, your knees nearly buckling at the way he continued to suck on your sensitive clit. “fuck i’ll never get sick of eating this pussy,” eren ran his tongue over his lips and chin, fighting the urge to dive back in just so you could squirt on his tongue.
“gotta make this quick honey, don’t wanna keep everyone waiting too long yeah?” eren kept you facing forward, your back now arched, glistening pussy on display waiting for him to finally fuck you. he ran his tip between your folds, shuddering at how warm you felt.
without warning eren rammed his hips forward, forcing a broken moan to leave your lips. eren was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, hissing when he felt you bite down on the skin. “sorry baby m’sorry,” eren cooed, coating your neck in wet kisses while his free hand wasted no time toying with your clit. his pace was quick and brutal, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the bathroom.
“mmph—renny,” he heard your muffled voice and removed his hand, gripping your chin to force you to look at him. “what is it baby? what do you need from daddy hm? i’m fucking you good ain’t i?” eren looked down and cracked the smallest smile at the way your pussy was sucking him in, a white sheen of your cream coating his base.
you didn’t say anything, instead you stuck out your tongue waiting for eren to do what he did best—give you the sloppiest fucking kiss you’ve received, each time nastier than the last. eren chuckled and wasted no time sucking your tongue into his mouth, moaning into the kiss. you eyes rolled into the back of your head, your pussy clenching onto eren’s dick like a vice. oh how you lived for his kisses.
eren changed his strokes to deep and slow, trying in any way to contain the loud squelching noise from your cunt. “ah ah ah! o-oh m-my,” you bit down harshly on your bottom lip making eren tisk.
“c’mon baby say what you were gonna say he’s listening,” eren growled, pinching your clit between his fingers. if it weren’t for eren holding you up you surely would’ve collapsed.
“oh my god! e-rennnn,” your thighs tensed as eren fucked you through your orgasm, droplets of your cum dripping to the floor. “fuck yeah that’s it baby, scream for your god let ‘em know who’s fucking this pussy,” eren rolled his hips in a way that had your eyes crossing, the feeling of another orgasm already approaching.
eren released his grip on your chin, his hands now finding purchase on your hips, ramming into you with everything he had. “s’good,” he hummed, giving your ass three quick swats.
“so *thrust* fucking *harder thrust* good *really hard thrust*”
your hands scrambled to find something—anything to grab onto, your legs felt like jelly, you body slowly sliding down which each brutal thrust. “nope get up—stand up straight like a good girl,” eren growled, lifting your body up once more. you were practically on your tippy toes, tongue lolled out, and eyes crossed as eren treated you like his own personal fuck toy.
he’s so damn strong. you could feel his muscles bulging through his dress shirt, his abs that he’s maintained all these years making the most delicious clapping sounds against your ass.
“s-shit m’gonna cum, where you want it honey,” eren let out a shaky breath, balls tightening when he felt you squeeze around him for the umpteenth time. your brain was scrambled, the only form of communication you were able to give him is a whine, your mouth slowly dropping open.
“mmph alright baby i’ll give it to you,” eren gave you three more toe curling thrusts before you came with a squeal, white dots taking over your vision. eren cursed when he felt himself already cumming, quickly pulling out and pushing you to your knees. he slipped his thumb in your mouth, pushing down on your tongue to open your mouth wider before releasing the rest of his cum on your awaiting tongue.
you hummed at the taste of him, taking more of his dick into your mouth with ease. eren’s breath hitched, his thighs tensing up from overstimulation. eren gently pulled you away from his cock, a line of spit connecting your lips to the tip. “i think i got a little inside m’sorry baby” he puffed air from his cheeks, tucking himself back in his dress pants.
eren gently lifted you from the floor, making sure your body was steady before bringing you in a tight embrace. you nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne.
“you good?” he whispered into your hair, gently stroke your lower back. you nodded, holding onto him tighter, whining when you felt his cum drip down the inside of your thigh. “clean it up,” you mumbled into his shirt, your cheeks flaming hot.
eren let out a low chuckle, muttering out a soft ‘m’kay sweet thing’ before pushing your back against the stall once more. he made quick work putting your leg over his shoulder, licking and sucking at your thighs, cleaning up his cum like the good lil husband he was.
once he was finished he gave your clit a soft kiss, letting out a breathy laugh when he felt you smack the side of his head. “i’m done i’m done, now let’s get outta here before people start to wonder where we are,” he figured your parents were already wondering you two had gone off too but he rlly didn’t give a damn—not when you just gave him one of the best nuts he’s ever had.
just as you two were leaving the restroom you bumped into—of course jean fucking kirstein. “what are you doing?” eren asked, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into his side. jean looked at the bathroom door then back at eren, “um using the bathroom? what were you two doing?” he cocked his eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.
you both didn’t say anything, but the fucked out looked on your face and eren’s shit eating grin told him everything he needed to know. “you guys are gross….now if you’ll excuse me,” jean cleared his throat, brushing past you and eren to get into the restroom.
you buried your face in eren’s side in embarrassment making his laugh. “don’t get all worked up doll, you know he won’t say shit—probably in there right now jerking it to the thought fucking you,” eren gave your hip a possessive squeeze, guiding you to the chapel.
fortunately for him service was just finishing up.
“there you two are! you missed the whole thing, what took so long?” your mother rushed up to you both, you could see the tiniest bit of frustration in her eyes.
eren took the carrier that was holding your daughter from her, “she just had to pump sorry we took so long mrs. y/l/n. we’ll be sure to join you next sunday to make up for it i promise” eren used the most sincere tone he could, he gave your hip a loving squeeze when he felt you relax into his touch. “now if you’ll excuse us we gotta get genesis,” you both bid your parents farewell before making your way to the basement where the sounds of screaming children and parents could be heard.
“there’s my sweet girl!” you giggled, giving your daughter a bear hug when she jumped into your arms. eren leant down to give her forehead a kiss, “see? that wasn’t too bad now was? now let’s go get something yummy to eat! daddy’s starving,” he whispered the last part in your ear, giving your behind a pinch making you jump.
“don’t worry i’ll make sure you’re nice and fed i promise,” you giggled giving him three quick kisses on his jaw. eren gave you a toothy grin, ecstatic because he knew you’d keep your promise.
and that my friends is how peaches and coconut! eren and his wifey are living <3
#eren smut#eren yeager smut#eren jaeger smut#eren x black reader#eren x black fem!reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren yeager x reader#aot smut#attack on titan smut
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