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#on one hand i like a lot of things about it
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I think it's important to remind everyone about the difference between intrusive thoughts, and goblin thoughts. Intrusive thoughts are by their nature horrifying, disturbing, completely unwanted by the person having them, and by no means something that one would ever want to do. As a matter of fact, they're often literally the opposite of what one would ever want to do. Things that make you feel like you're a horrible person just for thinking that, and possibly too scared to even speak of them to anyone, because they're horrible thoughts that are an intruder in your brain.
You would never, ever, ever want to "let the intrusive thoughts win", because you are not a monster and do not want to hurt people or do disgusting things. The thoughts that pop into your brain that you know you probably shouldn't do, but now that you thought of it you really really want to, those are goblin thoughts. Goblin thoughts are mainly harmless, do not cause significant distress, and - if indulged - would not cause danger or harm to yourself or anyone whose health and safety you care about.
So if you're in a situation like holding your precious brand new baby niece and get the thought "hey what if I just threw her out of that window?" and it makes your heart sink in horror and you have to hand her to someone else because it scares you that you'd even think about doing that, that's an intrusive thought. They are completely involuntary, a symptom of OCD, PTSD, and a lot of other disorders and they are not your fault.
But the thing where you're peacefully minding your own business and suddenly become aware that you could totally DIY those accessory bat wings for your shoes and wear them in public and nobody could stop you because you're 30 and you can do whatever you want, that's a goblin thought.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 days
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retired!price liked that you had daddy issues. aw, did someone not have a functioning relationship with their father as a child and now has to find that relationship in older men? aw, poor doll. price was more than okay with being called 'daddy' as long as you called him 'captain' too, especially when you were on your knees. while you got off to having an older man praise you, he got off to a pretty little thing calling him captain. you even went as far as to worship his strong physic, how easily he could bend, flip, turn and press into you.
didn't help that your pussy became a fixation for him.
he was close to fifty, his hip had a habit of locking from time to time. he had been hearing about it for years that it was time to have a family. even simon had managed to make a family, price was still hung up on young tail that he could bully his fat cock into. while most younger women were flavours of the week with no string attached. price made sure to attach every metaphorical string onto you. he had a copy of your apartment key. he added a profile for you on his streaming services. he knew on wednesdays you enjoyed pasta, but hated cooking on the weekend. he knew everything about his precious baby girl. you folded into his praise and always were eager to please. and that was what price loved about you. so imagine his shock (anger) when you told him that you thought you'd have to end your arrangement because you met a guy at your university. and when he asked why, you simply said, "i have to grow up at some point.", and that hit price in the head like an ice pick. if you wanted to grow up so badly, baby girl. there were other ways to do it.
the broken condom held weight in price's pocket while you had few drinks during your last 'date' together, he waited till you got all soft because of the wine. till you were on his side of the booth with your leg over his lap and your face pressed against his bicep. you ran your hand across his chest and giggled, "you're taking this whole break up thing so well." and he petted your head, watching you fold into him further, "like you said, you need to grow up." but you both had different definitions of 'growing up'. for you it meant getting over you daddy issues, but to him it was making him a daddy, for real. you giggled further while he gave you another glass of wine. when you tried to say no, he simply pushed it closer to you, "don't want to waste the bottle." and so easily you were in price's grip.
price took you three times that night. first was in the backseat of his expensive car. he pressed you into a corner, claimed that he needed more space for his larger body. your hazy vision was transfixed on the glimmer of his gold chain against his hairy chest in the low light. your poor body bent in such ways while he pace was relentless. he admired your unsteady gaze and your heavy breathing. he continued to move against you with such a pace that the whole car rocked. but don't worry, the parking lot was dead at that hour. you could scream your head off and no one would hear either of you. he did however put a tear in your panties. right in the crotch area. he sighed and said that he'd need to buy you something a little. while he loved the cheap pairs you owned, he thought his woman deserved something a little nicer. the future mrs. price needed to look next to perfection.
then he fingered you heavily in his bed and watched you squirm. he had to make sure every drop got deep enough before he bullied your sweet pussy once more. he loved the sight of you, still so fucked out from prior. you were in a daze in the car ride home. your breathing was heavy when he pushed the skirt of your dress up a little and teased your cunt while he drove. only to go further once you were naked on his bed. he watched your ass jiggle with each of his power thrusts while he took you from behind. he felt like a mad man while he fucked you. he was determined. he only got to where he was in his career because of grit and determination. he wouldn't back down to a challenge, especially when the stakes were so high. your pussy need to be bred, you needed to be with price. he never wanted to hear anything about another man ever again. price would hate to take drastic measures if another man tried to get in his way. if you needed a collar or a tattoo, the taste of his cum constantly your lips or leaked into your panties, price would do it all to ensure that you were his. the most effective way to ensure that was what kept him going through two rounds of sex without any pains. to get you pregnant. you had already forgotten about the broken condom, it still was in price's pocket! no use using it now, even bother giving the illusion that he wasn't breeding you.
the third time was when you tried to leave the next morning, he had you upside down on the bed. your bottom half on the mattress while all the blood rushed to your head as you tried not to fall on your head. price put bruises on top of bruises. your poor cunt was creamy with promises of the future. a future with him. the blood rush made you cum twice on his cock, adding fresh slick to his coated cock. you thought that older men were supposed to slow down with age. but it felt like price was even quicker than before. his pace brutal, almost like punishment for trying to leave him. but price didn't get to be captain because he followed one plan. he was going to ease you into married life, slowly make you the perfect woman for him. he was traditional that way. church wedding, the white dress, the vows. that would all happen, but might take a little longer. he wasn't too sure that a baby bump would fit nicely in a wedding dress. the thought of you pregnant, trapped to him made him eagerly finish in you two times. and when he got you back up onto the bed, you were fucked out. when you managed to collect your clothes and stagger out of his flat by mid-afternoon, you thought you made it in time to the pharmacy to get emergency plan b.
you prayed, and you never prayed. you promised three versions of 'god' that you'd convert to their religion if the pill worked. but three deities failed you and a month later price was in your apartment with his hands on the plastic pregnancy test. he scratched his beard and looked at you. he tried so hard to put on his best acting face. "that's a real shame, baby girl." he said in that rough voice of his that got you in trouble in the first place. he leaned back a little in your kitchen chair and placed the test back down on the table, "always wanted to be a father." he frowned a little bit, "never got the chance too. they said when i retired that the chances were low of me havin' a baby..." he looked at you. you should've known he was lying. his swimmers obviously weren't shot by how easily you got pregnant. you felt bad, almost like you were burdening him with getting pregnant. that it was your fault. you rung your hands and admitted softly, "we can try... we can make a family." and price smiled, "oh, doll." then got up to embrace you. you sniffled and cried a little in his strong chest. he held you in his strong arms. he was your protector even though his cock was straining in his jeans at the knowledge that he fundamentally changed you.
your body, your life, everything. when he released you from the hug, he got down on his knees. made a point to make a small 'huff' noise from being down on his 'bad' knee before he pushed up your t-shirt and pressed a kiss against your stomach. he said to you, "don't worry, love. daddy'll take care of ya." then gave that smile that wrapped around you like a vice. <3
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maskedbyghost · 2 days
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lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss
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situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”
along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.
he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”
when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”
as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.
you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.
almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.
back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.
despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.
simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.
one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.
later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."
after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.
a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.
“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”
simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.
simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.
once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”
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@daydreamerwoah
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mandarinmoons · 3 days
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hi! i have an idea ive been thinking about for a while. spencer and the team (plus reader) are at a bar and reader goes off to get a drink/dance/talk to someone and either a girl or a group of girls come up to spencer and start flirting with him. the first thing she/they ask ofc is "do you have a girlfriend?" and spencer (not realizing they are flirting) is like yes!!! her name is _____ and she is amazing and i love her so much.... and he goes on like a 20 minute rant about reader. reader finally finds him talking to these girls/girl and has to recuse them/her from his ranting about herself and explain what they actually meant.
sorry that was a lot but i wanted to make sure understood what i was envisioning. thank you so much!!!
“Spence, please!”
Spencer kept pulling you closer as he tried to nuzzle his way into your neck and leave a few kisses behind your ear. He wasn’t one for PDA, but after a few shots he was puddy in your hands and everyone had to witness what a mess you made of him in this state.
“I just wanna be close to you,” you could feel him pout as his lips were pressed against your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your waist.
“Looks like you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, huh pretty girl?”
Derek chuckled as he took pleasure seeing his younger brother of a coworker finally have a girlfriend, especially with how clingy he was being at the moment. It was as if Spencer would follow you if you were to leave for only a minute, which he had done approximately half an hour ago when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow he still had enough brainpower to talk about how hand-dryers could actually spread more germs and not remove them. He’d even taken it upon himself to take some paper towels and dry your hands for you, making sure to even dry the spaces between your fingers.
You had had only one drink and you were not going home unless you had a second one. Spencer had already downed three in that time, and looking at the state that he was in, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get served any more tonight.
“Spence, I'm going to get a quick drink, okay? Stay here.”
Prying his hands off of you, you quickly slipped out of Spencer’s grasp before he managed to put his hands on your waist again.
A few minutes later, Penelope pulls Derek to the dance floor while Emily comes across an old friend and excuses herself to have a word with her, leaving Spencer all by himself at the booth, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth while fidgeting with his fingers. He was too deep in thought that he didn’t notice a group of girls come over and sit next to him, their intentions clearly not innocent.
“Hi! You’re here all alone?”
“Oh, I’m not! I’m here with my girlfriend and team mates!”
“I don’t see any girlfriend around.”
“She went to get a drink. Oh, she loves an aperol spritz, she’s got great taste, in general not just in drinks.”
The girls watched in amazement as Spencer kept talking about every small thing he could come up with about you, from your favorite color and the psychological meaning behind it to your Myers Briggs personality type and how you’re both compatible.
As the endless line at the bar finally came to an end and you managed to get your drink, walking back to the team’s spot you noticed the unfamiliar girls surrounding Spencer and your stomach churned in nerves. The closer you got however you noticed their bored and confused faces and that’s all you needed to know that Spencer had most probably pulled his book smarts out on them and left them speechless.
“Oh and this one time- Y/N, you’re back!”
Spencer pulled you in for a hug, nearly knocking the drink out of your hands. Managing to put it down on the table, you rested your hand on his back as you turned your attention to the strangers, them clearly on the edges of their seats and ready to bolt at any moment.
“We’re gonna go, nice to meet you both.”
Your eyes followed them as they quickly got up and made their way to the other side of the bar, even from a distance you could see the red hue on their cheeks, embarrassment written all over their faces.
“Spence, what did they want?”
“They came over and asked if I had a girlfriend.”
“That’s it?”
Spencer nodded as he nuzzled into your stomach, “And I talked about how great you are and how I’m going to marry you one day.”
Laughter erupted from your mouth as you heard the answer, also because of Spencer’s fingers practically digging into your sides that it was tickling you.
“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s what they meant by that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Usually when someone asks “Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?”, it’s their way of asking “Are you single?”
Spencer blinked his eyes, your words not yet registering in his head.
“They were flirting with you.”
“Oh… really?”
Nodding along, the conversation was put on halt as everyone made their way back to the table.
“You guys had to leave him alone, huh?”
“Why? What happened?”
“Some girls came up to Spencer and tried to hit on him.”
“Oh, pretty boy’s got game now, huh?”
The team chuckled, but Spencer kept burrowing his head more into your embrace. It was clear that no matter how many girls tried their luck with him it would inevitably fail, as you were his home that he would come back to every time.
You can find my masterlist here!
Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3
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eupheme · 2 days
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— double the pleasure, triple the fun
[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 5.6k
tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings
a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖
“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 
It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”
There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 
“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”
(Or, your two becomes three.)
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“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”
Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 
Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.
To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.
“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 
A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”
“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”
The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.
“Is that... Logan?”
“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”
There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”
“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“
Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”
“Definitely, maybe.”
Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 
“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”
He hums, head tilting.
“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”
Your brow furrows.
“You are talking about Logan now, right?”
Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”
And what a question it is. 
You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.
And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 
That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.
It was different. Special.
“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”
You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 
“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”
“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”
He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“
Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.
“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.
“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”
Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.
“Do you think he wants that, too?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”
You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”
“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.
“I’ll handle it.”
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It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.
A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.
He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  
It will be nice to be able to take your time. 
They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 
Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.
How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 
"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"
"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."
And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.
The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 
Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.
"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."
Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."
"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"
"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."
At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 
Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.
It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 
But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 
And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.
"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."
"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"
It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.
Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 
"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"
Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.
"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"
He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"
"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."
That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"
"Yeah, baby." He grins.
"Really fucking good." 
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The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 
Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 
Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 
And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 
More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.
It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 
Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.
Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 
“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 
It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 
“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”
“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 
A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”
“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”
Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.
“This is you handling it?” You hiss.
“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”
Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 
Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 
“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”
There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.
“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 
It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”
There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.
A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 
“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”
A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.
It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 
A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 
“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 
”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”
There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.
“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 
“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.
Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.
“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 
Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 
Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.
That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 
It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 
“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”
You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 
“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”
Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”
For us. 
Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 
Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 
Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 
They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.
There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 
“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”
Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.
“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”
Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”
Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”
Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.
“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”
Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.
Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 
Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 
“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 
A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.
Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”
Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.
“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”
“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”
Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.
Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.
“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.
His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.
“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”
Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 
Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.
“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”
Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.
“Fuck us into your tight ass.”
You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 
“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”
“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.
His fingers crook, and curl.
“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 
“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”
His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”
It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.
The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.
His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.
Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.
A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 
“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”
They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.
“Stop moving when I do.”
It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.
“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”
His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.
“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 
Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 
A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”
You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.
“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”
“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 
“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”
Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.
Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 
Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.
It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.
Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 
How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.
A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.
It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 
He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.
Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 
A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.
Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 
The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.
A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.
Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.
A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 
“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”
Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.
“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.
The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.
His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”
“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.
“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”
Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”
Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.
Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  
Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.
You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  
“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”
Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 
It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 
Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 
The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 
Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 
There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.
Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.
Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 
Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 
“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 
Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.
“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”
“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”
Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 
Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 
Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 
Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 
It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 
Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 
A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 
It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 
“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.
“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”
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Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.
As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 
“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”
“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 
Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.
“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, but the way.”
Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 
Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 
Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.
The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 
Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.
You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.
“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 
Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.
“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”
“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”
A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 
“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”
“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”
Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 
That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.
There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.
Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 
Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 
“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.
“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”
He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.
“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 
“I’m good.”
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thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )
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corkinavoid · 20 hours
Text
DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman
[A loose continuation to this post]
Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.
And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.
"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.
It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.
"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.
The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.
Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."
Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."
At least that makes the man move.
When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.
The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.
"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.
"This is not necessary, Mother."
"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.
"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.
"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."
She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.
Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"
"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.
Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.
"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.
Damian doesn't answer.
The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-
A few things happen at once.
Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.
But Talia's blade doesn't strike.
A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.
Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.
But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.
"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.
"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.
"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.
But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.
"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.
Hold the fuck up, brother?
"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.
"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.
"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.
"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."
There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.
Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.
"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.
"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.
"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."
"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."
Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.
"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."
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darnell-la · 3 days
Text
𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧
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pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader
warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.
request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.
note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.
teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…
———
How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!
———
“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.
“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.
“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.
“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”
“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.
“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.
“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.
“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.
“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.
“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.
“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.
Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt
“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.
“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.
“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.
He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.
Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.
“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.
Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.
“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.
“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.
“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.
“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.
“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.
“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.
“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.
“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.
“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.
“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.
Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.
“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.
“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.
It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.
What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.
He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.
“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.
Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.
“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.
Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.
The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.
Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.
Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.
“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.
Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.
“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.
“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.
“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.
Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.
Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.
“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.
“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.
“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.
She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.
“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.
“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.
Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.
The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.
The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.
“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.
Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.
Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.
878 notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 2 days
Note
Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
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592 notes · View notes
muffinpink02 · 2 days
Note
Alexia with the new Cupra picture is giving me ✨sugar mommy who spoils you in every way✨ vibes
(fic?)
Spoilt Princess
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Thank you for the prompt anon!
Warning - smut 18
“How does it look, amor?” 
You fixed your hair in the changing room mirror, trying on the 100th dress of the day.
“Good, I like it.” You smoothed down the edges of the short red dress. 
“Show me, princesà.” 
You smiled at the nickname. Alexia did well and truly treat you like a princess. The Spainard loved to spoil you. Just like she was doing now, she’d spoil you on any occasion she could. From buying you the newest pair of Nikes, to flying you abroad to a five star resort. The girl never let you go without. If you wanted it, you had it. You wasn’t a brat about it, well, sometimes, but Alexia would fuck that out of you very quickly. 
You pulled the thick curtain open, Alexia was sitting in the plush velvet chair in the corner of the private fitting room. A number of high end branded shopping bags sat at her feet, the majority of them being yours. All purchased by Alexia, of course. 
You couldn’t stop the shy smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth as you watched her piercing hazel eyes snake down your body. 
“Do you like it?” You asked.
It was a pointless question really, of course Alexia liked it, she was the one that picked it out. The short dress showed off all her favourite parts of you. From the swell of your breast, to the firmness of your thighs and to the most important, the curve of your arse. Her most favourite part.
“Turn around, let me see you.” The Spaniard commanded.
You smiled as you turned around for the blonde, making sure to wiggle your arse as you did. 
Alexia bit her bottom lip as she took you in, you looked good, she loved you in anything red and this dress was doing wonders. It fit you like a glove, like it had been especially made for you. That being said, you had countless dresses that she had got especially tailored for you, but it never hurt to have more. 
“I love it, amor.” She smiled a genuine smile at you. 
“Let’s add it to the pile.” You winked.
“Sí. Did you want anything else? What about those heels you were looking at or those earrings you spoke about?”
“No, I think you’ve spoiled me enough today, Ale.” You chuckled softly. 
She tutted, her calm face scrunched into a cute frown. 
“It’s not true. I’ve hardly got you anything. And they would look good with this dress, no?”
You smiled at her little pout. It wasnt a secret that Alexia loved fucking you in heels, it was her thing. Something you had worked out very quickly into your relationship, the girl would always leave the item of clothing last when stripping you. Sometimes never taking them off at all.
You walked over to the blonde, shaking your head as you laughed at her pout. You bent down between her already spread legs, holding onto her thighs for balance. Her eyes followed you, dropping to the now very revealing angle of your cleavage.
“Ale, baby you’ve got me a lot today.” 
The blonde rolled her eyes, she cupped your chin with her hands, tilting your head higher. 
“But I haven't, cariño. It's been a while since I got to spoil you.”
That was a lie, she had only bought you a new camera last week, just because you said you were thinking of doing a photography class. And she didn't go cheap, she bought you a camera that even the most professional photographer would envy. 
“Ale, baby, you know I don’t need it.” 
She kept her hand on your chin, she moved closer to you, her lips now inches from yours.
“But I want you to have them. At least pick one.” She whispered softly against your lips. 
You felt your body tingle from the simple gesture, and other things may have tingled.
“Hmm, the heels.” You smiled widely. You moved forward, closing the gap between you. “Thank you.”
Alexia hummed against your lips, inhaling as she felt your tongue glide against her lips.
You pulled back, winking at her as you stood up from the familiar position. You looked at yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder.
“I guess you're right, they were really nice.” You smiled in the mirror.
“Sí, they will. They will go with most of your dresses.” The blonde nodded.
“Hmm, or nothing at all.” You looked over at the girl whose cheeks turned a shade of pink.
“Sí, or nothing at all.” She chuckled softly at you. She stood up from her chair, you watched her in the mirror as she approached you from behind, she put her two large hands around your waist, pulling you into her front. She laid her chin on your shoulder, locking her eyes with yours in the reflection.
“But, I did see a red lace set that would really suit you.”
—-----------
“Princesà? Are you ready?” Alexia called in from the ensuite. 
You gloss your lips, finishing off the last touches to your make up in the floor length mirror. You were getting ready for your date night, you had been looking forward to this day for a while, Alexia had somehow gotten a table at a very exclusive and very expensive restaurant. 
“Nearly.” You sang out. 
She walked into the bedroom where you stood, she smiled when she spotted her new favourite red dress hugging your body. She slowly walked over to you, her eyes fixed on your arse.
“You look beautiful, mí amor.” She pressed her lips against your bare shoulder, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. 
“You look beautiful, baby.” You smiled at her reflection in the mirror. 
The blonde looked good, she looked like she was ready to command a room full of businessmen. She was fitted in a grey two piece that showed off her muscular arms. Her blonde hair fell down her back, with her silver hoop earrings hanging off her ears. 
“Gràcies, cariño.” 
You picked up your silver necklace that Alexia had purchased for you a little while back. It was a simple piece but you loved it, you wore it everywhere. It had her initial attached to it, making you feel like she was always with you.
“Here, let me.” Alexia moved your hair out of the way and clipped the jewellery around your neck.
“Perfect.” 
“Nearly perfect. I have something for you.” 
She stepped back from you, a mischievous glint sparkled in her beautiful hazel eyes.
“Alexia! Baby, what could you have possibly gotten me?” 
She ducked under the bed, grabbing out a small white box. Alexia opened the lid revealing the eye watering priced earrings you had been eyeing up.
“Oh my god! You got them for me? How? When?” Your mouth gaped open in shock.
“I made a call. It wasn’t hard. They were delivered when you were in the shower.” She shrugged.
You jumped up and down like a kid on Christmas, giddy at the thought of Alexia getting you yet another present.
She watched as you put your new earrings on.
“Sit, I’ll help you put your heels on.” 
You did as she said, sitting on the end of your shared bed. Alexia kneeled at your feet, holding your ankle as she placed your feet into the strappy heels. You really were her little princess, she made you feel like a real life Cinderella. She slotted the straps into the holes with the most gentle touch. 
“Thank you, baby.” 
She gave your bare leg a kiss, then another then another, slowly moving up to your thighs. Her mouth melted when she smelt the vanilla scented cream on your skin. 
“Ale.” You shakily breathed out. 
“Hmm.” She didn’t bother looking up at you, too distracted at your buttery skin. 
“Baby, we’ll be late.” You tried to convince her, but you couldn’t even convince yourself. 
“Just a little taste, please amor.” She begged as she already started to push your dress up, revealing your new red laced thongs. 
You could never say no to Alexia, especially when she was literally begging at your feet, but you knew you were already running late for your reservation. Your eyes closed as her lips started to kiss your lips through your underwear, her warm breath making your legs open more for her. You felt yourself melting for her, wanting so badly to just let her take you, have her way with you, but that fucking table.
She gently pulled your underwear to the side, revealing your sex. 
“Tan bonica.” She husked before swiping her tongue through your folds.
“Fuck.” You gasped, you had to hold yourself back from pulling at her hair, you didn't have time for her to fix it again.
She took another slow swipe, running her tongue gently against your folds. You groaned at the electric sparks it sent through your muscles, your body already feeling like it was on fire from her expert touches. 
You knew if you didn't stop her now you wouldn't make it out of here tonight, let alone on time for the table.
“Baby, we got to go- fuck!”
Alexia had made it just that bit harder to leave as she wrapped her lips around your clit, sucking your sensitive bud with a precise precision.
Your head tilted back as she suckled on you, you bit your lip trying your hardest to force yourself to stop her. You looked down at the blonde between your legs, she was in her own world of pleasure. You let out a loud sigh, knowing you had to stop, even though you really, really didn't want to.
“Ale, come we have to go.” You groaned at your own words.
Her hazel eyes finally looked up at you, you could see the hesitation in her eyes, she clearly didn't want to stop. She groaned in annoyance, she gave you one last lick before she pulled herself away. 
“I regret booking this now.” She mumbled between your legs.
You let out a breathless chuckle. “So do I. But once we’re done we can pick up where we left off. We can even try that new thing you want to do.” 
Her eyes lit up at that. “Really?” 
You nodded, smiling wickedly at the blonde.
Alexia stood up, picking up your red thongs that were crumpled on the floor.
“I’m keeping a hold of these.” She tucked them into her loose pocket, smiling cheekily at you.
—------------
“Gràcies.” Alexia smiled, placing her card on the receipt tray.
The evening had been amazing, the food was delicious, the atmosphere was calm, the conversation had been flowing and the fingers dancing between your thighs was…mind numbing. 
Since the moment you sat down Alexia had taken advantage of the now missing barrier between your legs. Her fingers had been relentless, skating up, down and around your ever growing sensitive lips. 
“Alexia.” You whispered, you didn’t once tell her to stop, you didn't want her to. She felt so fucking good.
She had you nearly screaming out in the busy restaurant as her talented fingers circled your swollen clit, she smirked wickedly at you when she felt your essence dripping onto her fingers. 
She didn't think to stop when the waiter came over. 
“Would you like to see the dessert menu?” The waiter asked.
“No!” You choked out a shout. The waiter looked between you and Alexia, a little confused from the outburst. You eyed the blonde, who kept that calm stupid smile on her face. 
“Erm, sorry no.” You cleared your throat. “Just the bill please.” You forced a smile, trying your hardest to hold down the filthy groan that wanted so desperately to escape your throat.
Once Alexia paid the bill you couldn't get out of the place quick enough. 
—------------
You waited outside the restaurant as a bell boy brought your car to the front. 
The teen boy smiled as he passed over Alexia’s car keys. “Nice car by the way.” 
“Gràcies.” Alexia smiled politely, slipping the boy a tip. She nodded her head eyeing the vehicle. “She's a beauty.” She agreed.
It was her new car, her pride and joy. You weren't into cars, you just about knew the different names, but you could appreciate a nice car when you saw one. It was sleek and smart, and Alexia looked fucking good in the drivers seat. 
She opened the passenger side door for you, smacking your bum as you climbed into the leather seat. 
“Oi!” You laughed as the blonde playfully winked at you. You watched as she waved at the bellboy, before jumping into the driver's side.
Finally, you were on your way home and you couldn't ignore the way your body was thrumming with desire for the blonde next to you. You was dizzy, dizzy with the thought of Alexia fucking you with her big strap. Fucking you until your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, stuttering your words as her hips bucked between your thighs. Making you scream her name-
“Everything okay, amor? You seem a little distracted.” She hummed as she looked over at you, that same smug smile on her face.
You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. You could feel your cunt aching, verging on almost painful. 
“You could say that.” You looked out the window, praying all the lights stayed green.
Alexia let out a loud laugh, the laugh that you loved. You looked over at her, her beautiful smile plastered her face. 
It only made you want her more. 
You unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over so you could easily access Alexia's neck. 
“Amor, I’m driving.” Her breath hitched as she felt your tongue glide against her skin.
“I can stop if you want?” You said it as you kissed behind her ear.
“No.” She smirked.
You hummed, smiling as you gently bit her favourite sweet spot. “Thoughts so.” You whispered in her ear, bitting a little harder at the soft skin, causing the Spaniard to let out a small gasp.
You kissed down her neck, moving to her throat. You gently sucked on the vein that you loved, lapping your tongue over the ridge of her skin, you lightly hummed as you felt it beat under your touch. 
You brought your right hand to her trousers, easily slipping past the loose band.
“This is not fair.” She looked down between her legs, her breathing quickening as she felt your fingers stroke at her thighs.
You gave out your own smug smile when you felt her hips rock up into your touch. 
“I just want to taste.” You whispered, repeating the same words she had said to you.
“W-what? Now?” 
You nodded your head, bringing your lips between your teeth. 
“Right now. Pull your trousers down for me.”
“God, you can make me do anything, can't you princess?”
You let out a low chuckle, your fingers still teasing at her lips.
She finally stopped at a red light. You couldn't stop the smirk on your face as she clumsily tried to pull her trousers down for you.
“Here baby, let me help. Lift your hips up.” You purred.
Alexia did as you asked, so you were able to slide her loose trousers and thongs down to the top of her knees. 
You smiled as you spotted the wet patch. “Is someone a bit wet?”
“How could I not be? You were so good for me in the restaurant, letting me play with you.” She stroked your loose hair back as she moved forward, connecting your lips in a deep kiss, her tongue easily pushing itself into your mouth. She pulled back, smiling devilishly at you.
“My good girl.” She whispered against your lips.
You pushed your hair to one side and moved forward, leaning your head down between Alexia’s spread legs. You connect your lips with her thighs, slowly making your way closer to her sex. The angle wasn't the most comfortable, but you needed the girl. 
“Merda. Wait, let me.” 
Alexia fiddles with something, allowing her seat to move slightly back, giving you both more room. Her free hand moved into your hair, pushing you back between her legs.
You take the hint and lick through her already wet folds.
“Shit.” She sighs, her fingers flex in your hair. 
Her mouth gaped open as she looked down at your head in her lap, she had seen you in this position plenty of times, but being out in public and easily being spotted made the situation just that little more thrilling.
You groan at her familiar taste, it instantly makes your mouth water. You go slow, moving your tongue easily though her essence, smearing her juices around with your tongue. The lights must have turned green as you feel Alexia’s body move above you, good thing the car is an automatic.
You flick your tongue across her swollen clit, her low groans spur you on, you easily wrap your lips around the bundle of nerves and gently stroke the flesh with the tip of your tongue.
“Bebé!” The blondes' lashes flutter in pleasure. 
You lifted your head, looking at the pretty pussy in front of you. Alexia was wet, you could see the leather seat underneath getting messy with hers and yours fluids. 
You shifted a little, getting yourself more comfortable. You leaned on your knees with your arse in the air. Alexia’s hips twitched, clearly wanting you back on her. 
“Amor, please.” Alexia begged. 
“I’m right here, baby.” You reassured her, kissing her dripping lips.
Alexia bit her bottom lip as she felt your breath ghost her wet sex, she was trying her hardest to control herself. Your loose hair was flowing down her thighs, tickling her sensitive skin, causing her to shiver. 
bobbing up and down as you sucked her into your warm mouth. 
The blonde was finding it hard to concentrate, all she could feel was your talented tongue swirling around her clit, drinking her in. She gently began to thrust her hips into your mouth, all while keeping her eyes on the road. 
You groaned loudly, loving the way she was slowly losing herself, you could hear her breathing becoming shallow. 
Your own clit was still throbbing, you could feel the air hitting the wetness on your lips. You would have loved to have seen yourself right now, being the princess you always was for Alexia. 
The blonde came to another red light, she took the opportunity to scoop your hair into her free hand. Having more control of your movements she forced you further down, needing more friction on her clit. She smirked as she watched your head bobbing up and down as you sucked her into your warm mouth. 
You whimpered when you felt her touch, trying to move the way she wanted you. She began to slowly fuck you face, pushing her hips harder into your face. 
“Sí, Sí, princesà. You’re so good, don’t stop, never stop.” She husked out.
You groaned at the fast movements, you could feel Alexia's clit twitching in your mouth. 
“Fuck, baby, I can’t drive and do this.” She let out a low groan.
Alexia took a quick turn down a quiet road, quickly turning off the engine. 
She pulled over just in time as her orgasm took over her body. Both her hands grip your hair, moving you to her rhythm.
“Amor. I’m going to come, don’t stop. Keep sucking.” Her head fell back against the seat, her mouth opening as she began to pant. Alexia cried out, screaming your name as her clit pulsated in your mouth.
You didn't stop, you kept your mouth on her until she rode out the final spasm. 
Alexia tried to catch her breath, as she stroked your hair back.
“I can’t believe you had me do that.” She let out a breathless chuckle. 
You stroked your tongue over her once more, kissing her clit as you moved away. You smiled smugly as you came face to face with the blonde, her hazel eyes completely blown. 
“You spoil me in every way.” You winked as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
702 notes · View notes
checkeredflagggs · 2 days
Text
Aftermath of a Storm
Pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!Storm chaser!fem!reader
summary: people are shocked to learn about alice and oscar
a/n: tbh i really meant for the first part to have more of the other drivers learning about Barbie and Alice but obviously that didn’t happen 😂
a/n 2: timelines? What timelines? Idk know them
Part 1
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Twitter
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Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice
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Private Messages - The Grid, Fun
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Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice
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mclaren
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liked by drbarbie, teammate1, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,822,445 others
tagged: drbarbie, oscarpiastri
mclaren: Check the weather this weekend! Because there must be a storm moving in —Oscar Piastri is taking Dr. Alice “Barbie” Sargeant, Williams Racing’s Logan Sargeant’s twin sister and notable storm chaser, on a hot lap here in Mexico!
view all comments
user1: oh my god this is everything I never knew I needed
user2: oh yeah hey mclaren don’t forget to mention THAT THEY ARE DATING
oscarpiasti: it’s gonna be a good time!
logansargeant: it’s been nice knowing you
oscarpiasti: I’m sure it’ll be fine
logansargeant: you sure about that? you SURE about that?
logansargeant: are we talking about the same girl?
user4: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
used5: LET US IN. LET US IN!! YOURE AMERICAN — SPILL THE TEA
landonorris: Oscar! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!!!! 😡😡😡
oscarpiastri: I’m sure I mentioned it.
landonorris: I’m sure YOU HAVENT!?!
oscarpiastri: of course I have. are you sure you were listening?
landonorris: of course I was LISTENING! You just haven’t said A WORD!? Since when have you had a girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: we’ve been together for nearly 7 years
landonorris: 7 years?!?
oscarpiastri: yes.
landonorris: WHAT?!??!
user6: WHAT?
user7: uhh raise your hand if you had Oscar Piastri has a secret girlfriend, Logan Sargeant has a twin sister, or the two would be the same person on your bingo card this year
user8: ok but if anyone on the grid had a secret girlfriend of course it’s gonna be Oscar?
user7: you got me there
user9: 7 years?!? How do you hide a girlfriend for 7 years? Especially one as cool as drbarbie?
user10: user9 asking the real questions
user11: right?? How did some guy who drives in silly circles score such a cool badass girlfriend?
drbarbie: I ran over him with my bike one day
user11: WHAT?!?
drbarbie: ummmm what is this??? oscarpiastri WHAT DID YOU DO???
logansargeant: apparently signed you up to tackle a hot lap
drbarbie: NO
drbarbie: ABSOLUTELY NOT
drbabrie: SPEED AND I DO! NOT! MIX!!
drbarbie: oscarpiastri ANSWER YOUR PHONE
drbarbie: nicolepiastri where is your son? I’d like to have some words with him
nicolepiastri: you and me both sweetie
user12: you chase tornadoes but can’t do a hot lap?
drbarbie: THERE IS A MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO!
user13: and you prefer the storms?
drbarbie: YES!!
f1gossippage
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, teammate1, and 3,997,455 others
f1gossippage: a hot lap for the records! Oscar Piastri drove girlfriend Barbie Sargeant around the track twice today! Definitely seems like she’s not a fan
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user14: not a fan? I’d say 😂 I didn’t know anyone could scream that high tbh
user15: those were genuinely screams of terror…save my girl 😭
user16: Barbie Sargeant? Nah fam you did not do my girl dirty like that. Put some respect in her damn name. It’s DR. ALICE “BARBIE” SARGEANT
user17: oh thank god someone said it. She did not get 2 phd’s by the time she was 21 to have that be disrespected
user18: no shit really?
user17: yes! She graduated with double phd’s in meteorology and mechanical engineering from Cornell when she was 20!
used18: so fucking cool! And yea! PUT SOME DAMN RESPECT IN HER NAME!
user19: someone with more experience needs to watch this entire clip and then make gif sets of the ENTIRE thing because her face goes on a lot of journeys
user20: most of those journeys end in murder i think
drbarbie: they do. They will
logansargeant: maybe don’t threaten Oscar on a public instagram post?
drbarbie: for once in your life, stay in your lane. Unless you’d like to join him?
logansargeant: …carry on.
user20: logansargeant what was that??
logansargeant: I support women’s Rights and Wrongs
drbarbie: good
oscarpiasti: oh these are good pictures!
drbarbie: you are a dead man walking Piastri
oscarpiastri: would you really hurt me?
drbarbie: yes
oscarpiastri: what about my mother and sisters?
drbarbie: nicolepiastri soooo…you’re gonna be down a son soon. I can offer Logan?
nicolepiastri: oh we’d love to have the two of you visit again soon logansargeant and drbarbie
oscarpiastri: nicolepiastri mum??
user21: not nicolepiastri supporting this 🤣😭
teammate1: 😂😂😂
drbarbie: I sign your checks. Watch yourself
teammate1: girl this is too damn funny
drbarbie: 🙄😑
Private Messages - Oscar, Logan, Alice
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drbarbie
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 3,728,388 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
drbarbie: it’s your turn now! 🥰
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user22: the hearts make this a very ominous message
drbarbie: it’s supposed to be!
user22: oh!
oscarpiastri: babe?
oscarpiastri: what do you mean my turn?
drbarbie: I told you! I’d only ever get in your car when you get in mine!
drbarbie: so convenient that you have a break and dolly is back from the mechanics right now! 🧡🩵🧡
oscarpiastri: ummm…🏃🏻‍♂️💨
user23: ok but is she really gonna take him through a tornado???
user24: that does seem like it’s the plan?
user23: I can’t watch this 🙈
user24: she’s a professional?
drbarbie: more confidence in me please
user24: you right you right
user: SHES A PROFESSIONAL
drbarbie: thank you!
logansargeant: good luck! Have fun!
drbarbie: 😊😊😊
logansargeant:…no.
logansargeant: What did I do?
logansargeant: come on I helped you
logansargeant: I’m on your side!!
teammate3: dolly is ready to roll!!
oscarpiastri: that better be a joke
teammate1:…
teammate2:…
teammate3:…
teammate4:…
teammate5:…
Private Messages - The Grid, Serious
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drbarbie
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 4,288,373 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant
drbarbie: don’t worry guys! They made it through the “storm” a-ok! (Come on guys, have a little faith. I’d never actually take someone unprepared into an actual tornado. Plus prime tornado season is over for the year!)
view all comments
user25: oh thank god. I was so very nervous
user26: girl you ain’t the only one. Check the video at 14:25. Oscar’s fingers are fucking white with panic 😂😂
oscarpiastri: thank you love for not subjecting me to a tornado
logansargeant: yes thank you my very favorite sister who is definitely the best and best and most wonderful
oscarpiastri: yes! Most wonderful and loving and beautiful girlfriend ever
drbarbie:…laying it on a little bit thick aren’t you?
logansargeant: quite literally whatever I have to do so I never ever ever ever have to get in that truck again!
drbarbie: don’t you dare disrespect dolly!
logansargeant: never!
oscarpiastri: dolly is a queen! We aren’t worthy.
logansargeant: yes! We definitely shouldn’t be in that truck ever again
drbarbie: babies…fine
user26: wow!!!! 🤩 those photos are stunning!
drbarbie: thank you! When I was planning this I knew the conditions were gonna be good for some nice thunderstorms but even I didn’t expect this level!
user26: so you just…followed them around?
drbarbie: yup! It’s something our parents used to do for me when logie and I were young - the driving being a lot more calm then normal is just about the only difference (my passengers complained the entire time 🙄)
user27: oh that’s so cute! (They seem like the type 😂)
landonorris: stunning
drbarbie: thank you!
oscarpiastri: no
landonorris: I didn’t say anything?
oscarpiastri: and yet the answer is no. Go away
georgerussell63: shut down!
landonorris: why am I catching strays on my comment thread???
charles_leclerc: these are magnificent photos! And it looked like a fun trip to get them
drbarbie: thank you! (Oh my god oscarpiastri I’ve been noticed by your father!)
oscarpiastri: that’s cool babe
charles_leclerc: yes! Welcome to the family. We expect you for dinner soon
drbarbie: score!
alicepublic
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 3,590,455 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
alicepublic: happy anniversary my love. The best 7 years of my life so far — with many more to go 🧡🧡🧡
view all comments
oscarpiastri: I can’t believe that it’s only been 7 years, I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime already — I couldn’t imagine spending it with anyone else.
alicepublic: oh my love…
user28: water is wet. Fork found in the kitchen. I’m sleeping on the highway!
user29: sleepover!!
oscarpiastri: You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me 🩷
mclaren: you won the race last week?
alicepublic: uhhh your point?
oscarpiastri: and? I said what I said!
mclaren: alrighty then! Well said!
charles_leclerc: happy anniversary my son and daughter in law!
alicepublic: not a daughter in law yet but thank you!
oscarpiastri: soon!
alicepublic: WHAT?!? 😳 🫢
logansargeant: 7 years of being a third wheel and they don’t even tag me…EVEN THOUGH I'M VERY BLATANTLY IN THIS PHOTO DUMP
alicepublic: chill out dude
oscarpiastri: thank you for being our favorite third wheel and for taking these wonderful photos
logansargeant: Oscar is my favorite
alicepublic: I’d be mad but same tbh
user30: it’s been years but yay! Dr Barbie’s priv account is finally open
user31: oh my god baby her and baby Oscar are so cute!
user30: I know!! I’ve been getting fomo going through her posts - like what do you mean I haven’t been growing up with them?
user32: yeah alicepublic can we get an explanation for that photo near the beginning of you on a bike and Oscar bleeding?
alicepublic: that was the first day we met! My bike broke (no brakes) and as I was trying to slow down I accidentally ran over Oscar!
oscarpiastri: best accident I’ve ever had!
user32: ok this is the cutest meet-cute! ♥️
landonorris: unfortunately you guys are cute…
alicepublic: what 🥺 🥺 …
oscarpiastri: what do you mean unfortunately?
landonorris: yeah — can’t have anyone cuter than me in the garage so you’re uninvited to mclaren
oscarpiastri: happily you can’t make those decisions (slides $5 to mclaren)
mclaren: don’t worry alicepublic ! Permanent paddock pass for you!
landonorris: WHAT? NO!
landonorris: IM STILL CATCHING STRAYS ON MY COMMENT THREADS
480 notes · View notes
Text
Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
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Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.
It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.
Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.
You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.
“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.
“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.
“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.
“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”
After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.
After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.
“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.
You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.
“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.
“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.
“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.
“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.
“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.
After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.
An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.
“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.
“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.
You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.
You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.
Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.
Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.
“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.
“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.
“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.
As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.
They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.
You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.
“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.
You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.
You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.
You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.
You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.
“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.
You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.
“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”
“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”
Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.
“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”
You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.
“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.
“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.
“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”
Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.
“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”
Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.
“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.
“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”
You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.
“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.
You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.
As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.
Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.
You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.
The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.
Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?
Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.
You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.
After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.
Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.
Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.
You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.
Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.
Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?
You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.
As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.
You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.
Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.
She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.
What if you don’t even want her around anymore?
The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.
She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.
What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?
Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.
She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.
In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.
That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.
When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.
What if you don’t want her here?
She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.
I shouldn’t have come.
She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.
But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.
What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?
She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.
She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?
Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.
Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.
It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.
The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.
As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?
You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.
Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.
With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.
Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.
"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.
"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."
She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"
There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.
"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.
"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."
You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."
Another beat of quiet passes.
"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.
"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.
She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"
You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."
The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.
Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.
"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.
As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.
Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.
"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.
"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.
She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."
Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.
You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.
"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."
You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.
The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.
When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.
You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”
You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.
“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.
She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.
You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.
“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”
Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.
“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”
She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”
You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”
Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”
You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.
“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”
You take a second to think about what you want to say next.  Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.
You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.
“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”
Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”
You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”
Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.
“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”
Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.
“I love you too,” you whisper.
For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.
Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.
After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.
“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”
You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”
It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.
Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.
“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”
She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.
As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.
At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.
Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.
Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.
When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.
“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.
“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.
She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.
There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.
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ariestrxsh · 3 days
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, blowjob, voyeurism, blackmail, mean!roughdom!chris
🖤 author's note: 🖤 part two is going to be some of the filthiest, roughest shit i've ever written, so proceed with caution.
🖤 summary: 🖤 your manager, chris, finds out you've been giving away free drinks at your bartending job, and he blackmails you. he won't tell your little secret as long as you can give him what he wants..
this story was requested/inspired by this ask 💖 (promise that i will be serving filth in part two)
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Closer part one
You rolled your eyes when you walked into work, saw the schedule, and realized who you were closing with.
You loved everything about being a bartender. You liked serving drinks, flirting with the customers, and listening to music all night. You made decent money, and you even liked your coworkers. Well, most of them.
The one thing you couldn't stand about your job was Chris, your manager, who was insufferable to work with. Anytime the two of you shut down the bar together, he'd waste time either playing around on his phone, sitting in his car smoking weed, or hiding in the backroom doing god knows what. This meant you'd end up doing most of the closing tasks alone.
All Chris really did was count the money and lock the door at the end of the night, and it always pissed you off that he got paid more than you. It's not like he was better-qualified for the position or had a better work ethic than you did, but he'd landed himself a position in management because the owner was his best friend's dad.
"Can't wait to close with you, sweetheart. You always get us out faster than I do with any of the other girls," Chris grinned at you with a tooth pick between his teeth while he leaned up against the stainless steel counter in a black tanktop and jeans.
"Wow, that's crazy, because we'd get out even faster if you could go one shift without getting high in the parking lot, and instead helped me rinse out all the beer taps," you snarked back.
"You know, I have way more important shit to worry about than wiping down surfaces. That's why I have you," Chris remarked, flashing you a smirk and brushing the back of his hand across your cheek. You pulled away and scoffed at him. "Love when you play hard to get," Chris whispered before wandering off towards the back. You rolled your eyes.
It was Friday night, which meant it'd be busy, and you were hoping to pull in enough tips to make rent by the end of the shift. You were getting into a flow, mixing drinks, and engaging in witty banter with some out-of-towners when your eye caught Chris heading out to the parking lot. There was a pretty blonde girl with him.
You finished serving the drink in your hand and turned to your coworker, Sam. "Hey, cover me while I go have a cigarette?" You leaned in and asked. She gave you the thumbs up. You went to the back, shuffling around in your purse for your American spirits.
You weren't gonna spy on Chris. You were just curious to see where he was going, who he was with, and what they were doing. Okay, fine. You were spying on Chris.
You made your way outside, sparking up the end of your cigarette, and heading towards the back of the building where the smoking area was. You didn't see Chris or the girl anywhere at first until your eyes landed on Chris' car. Chris was in the driver's seat, and it looked like he was alone.
That was until you saw that Chris had a fistful of her blonde hair in his grip, bouncing her up and down on his lap. You studied Chris' expression, the way it was steeped in desire, the way his jaw hung slightly open, and the way he was peering down. He was definitely getting head in his car.
The girl's head bobbed up down, disappearing and reappearing behind the dashboard. You knew you shouldn't be watching, and you always thought you'd be grossed out if you ever caught Chris doing anything like that, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.
You sat there, taking drag after drag off your cigarette while you watched Chris enjoying himself in his car. In your deepest, darkest fantasies, you wondered what he sounded like behind the glass windows.
A wetness started to pool between your legs, and it's not that you were jealous that you weren't the one doing it, but.. fuck, were you a little jealous? You watched in awe until you'd smoked your cig all the way down to the filter.
You knew it would be hard to hate Chris and be annoyed with his closing process when your mind was overwhelmed with daydreams about sucking him off. You threw your cigarette on the ground and smushed it into the asphalt with your sneaker.
Thankfully, the night stayed busy, and you were able to keep your mind off the incident momentarily when an older gentleman who immediately caught your eye walked in through the door and sat at the end of the bar. You noted how handsome he was with his salt and pepper hair, his nice suit, and his intense stare. He looked like he could be in his forties, but you didn't mind. You liked older men.
"Whatcha drinking?" You smiled, approaching him. "A double of your finest scotch. Neat," he replied, looking deep into your soul. What a refined drinking order. He paid for his scotch right away, probably not planning on staying very long, but the two of you hit it off.
For next hour or so, he nursed his drink while you got to know a little bit about each other. You learned that he was a professor who taught philosophy, and he learned that you were a avid lover of philosophy. The subject had meandered towards absurdist theory and Albert Camus' works.
"You know, I remain unconvinced that life or anything at all really, has any meaning," you leaned onto the bar, looking into his dark, sultry eyes, "if there is no inherent meaning, then that takes all the pressure off." You grabbed his empty glass off the counter between the two of you, and you gestured to see if he wanted another.
"Please," he accepted, "don't you think it's a little sad if you don't give life some kind of meaning?" He squinted at you, trying to pick your brain.
"No, not at all, because we humans subconsciously give meaning to nearly everything that happens in our everyday lives, and it actually distorts our view of objective reality and keeps us assuming and imprisoned to a slew of reactions based off of a bunch of self-drawn conclusions," you replied, "plus if I were sad about life not having any meaning, I'd be a nihilist, not an absurdist." You topped off his glass and slid it over to him with a smug look on your face.
"Hmm. Smart girl," he responded, picking up his glass and taking a few sips. You liked that you'd found a man who could actually hold an intellectual conversation with you, and you boldly requested his number. He wrote it down on a napkin and slid it over to you.
"Does this mean I'm gonna see you again?" He stared at you longingly. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean," you smirked at him.
When he finished his drink, he pulled out his wallet to pay, but you stopped him. "Last one's on the house. Thanks for the mentally stimulating discussion. I don't get much of that around here," you insisted.
"Maybe that's because you're talking to boys instead of men," he suggestively raised an eyebrow at you and left you a generous tip before leaving the bar.
Shit. You hadn't even caught his name.
The rest of the night went well. It was fast-paced, everyone was in a good mood, and the tips were flowing in. Last call rolled around, and you started to clean up your station. "Who was that pretentious douchebag you were talking to?" Chris came up behind you, rasping directly into your ear and startling you, causing you to drop a shotglass.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little jealous.
"Shit!" You exclaimed, bending down to clean up the broken glass. Chris' eyes were drawn to your perfectly-shaped ass that your jeans hugged so well. "He teaches philosophy at the University. But I didn't catch his name," you replied.
"But you got his number," Chris snatched the folded napkin hanging out of your back pocket. "Give me that back!" You exclaimed, reaching for it as Chris held it above his head.
"I'll give it back to you, but first. You and I need to talk," Chris' tone got a little more serious. "About what?" You asked, picking up on the sudden shift in his voice. "You know, Professor Pretentious was drinking Macallan Scotch Whiskey, don't you?" Chris inquired as if that was supposed to mean something to you. "And?" You asked, shrugging at Chris.
"Do you have any idea how expensive that shit is and how dead you would be if Boss Man knew you were giving it out for free to old men you wanted to bone?" Chris leaned in close and gave you a disappointed look. "Well, we won't know, because he won't find out about it, will he, Chris?" You shot him a look.
"Well, the cameras show you handing him two drinks, but his bill only has one listed," Chris responded, indicating he had evidence. "Chris, come on. You wouldn't do that," you sneered at him. "Sure, I would. Unless you give me something I want. Then I won't tell boss man, and I'll give you professor dickhead's number back," Chris smirked at you deviously.
"What do you want?" You rolled your eyes, not really having a choice but to hear him out. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, I'm gonna go do inventory and count the safe, and you're gonna clean this shit up. Fucking loser," Chris said, motioning towards the broken glass on the ground and rolling his eyes. Then he left out the front door, presumably to go smoke weed in his car.
The clock hit 2:00 a.m. It was the end of the night, and no thanks to Chris, all your closing duties were done even earlier than you'd expected. The two of you were the only staff still there, and you were ready to hear whatever sick ultimatum Chris was about to give to you.
You trudged into the office where he was sitting on his phone with his feet kicked up on the desk. "All done, princess?" Chris asked, lustfully glancing you up and down. "Ew, don't call me that," you responded. "Why? You like it too much?" He chuckled at you.
"What's it gonna take for you to keep your mouth shut and give me back my future husband's phone number?" You crossed your arms, avoiding addressing his accusation. Chris fixed his contemplative eyes on you and gave you a bit of a malicious grin, "All you have to do is let me fuck you."
You were immediately taken aback, thinking you didn't hear him right. "What!?" You swallowed hard and narrowed your gaze at him. He stood up and got into your face, making you feel small and weak. "What? You liked watching me get head in the parking lot, and now you're getting all shy on me?" Chris cooed, stroking your cheek with his knuckles.
Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, and you found yourself unable to say anything. You were completely humiliated by the fact that he'd seen you peeping on him.
"Don't worry, princess. I won't tell anyone you like to watch. But I will tell Boss Man about the scotch if you don't let me do whatever I want to you," he said in a low, sexy voice, his carnal needs carved into the expression on his face.
"It kind of feels like you're not giving me a choice here," you studied his hypnotic blue and eyes and your gaze fell to his full lips.
"Well, then here are your choices. Let me spell them out for you. First scenario, I tell the boss, you get fired, you go work at a new bar, and you never have to see me again. Second scenario, you get on your fucking knees and you let me use that little back-talking mouth of yours and whatever other way I want to have you, and I'll make this whole problem of yours disappear," he winked at you and leaned in, chuckling into your ear,
"And if you choose the last option, I'm just letting you know in advance, I like it disgustingly rough."
part two posted here 💖
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monstersflashlight · 2 days
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do you have anything about some sort of reptile-based monster that involves hemipenes? i think it’s a very cool way to do double penetration with only one top
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A/N: First part of this was one of the stories in the 10k followers event (find it here). Enjoy!
Lizard-brain: the research
Lizardman x fem!reader || double penetration, hemi-peens, tail play, light choking, exhibitionism, dirty talk (low key)
When he pulled out, you felt your holes twitching at the same time a mechanical voice said from the speakers: “You did well, researcher, very interesting data was recorded.” Shit, you forgot there were people watching and probably saw you get fucked within an inch of your life. All your coworkers just watched you getting double creampied by a giant lizard-man. Great.
You were allowed to go home after that, your boss telling you to go clean yourself and the next day you could go over the data with them. Your lizard mate wasn’t happy about it, but he complied knowing he could see you the next day. You felt many emotions when you left the place, not ready to name any of them, you only showered and went to sleep, your body sore in the best way possible.
You arrived to the facility next day, and the first thing your boss said was: “We need you to do it again,” you looked at them confused, what the fuck did they mean.
“What?” You asked, looking at the monitors in the wall to try catch a sight of your mate.
He explained some of the data they collected, but how it was still very early in the research to know for sure, that’s why they said: “We need more data, and you are his mate after all.” You looked at him with understanding, your scientific brain already working all the possible conclusions of all the data collected so far and how much more you could know if you kept it. But also...
“I need to talk to him about this,” you told them. You had feelings for a big monster, and he considered you his mate, there was a lot of possible ethical problems there.
“Oh yes, it talks. True.” They said, but like it didn’t matter at all.
That infuriated you, but you swallowed your complaints, trying to understand why you felt so protective over him. And then it clicked, mate bonds weren’t only one way, he felt the mate bond, but you felt it back. You cemented your bond with sex and now you felt tied to him the same way he was tied to you. That realization should have scared you, but only made your stomach flip with butterflies. You had a mate. And that came with a new goal in mind: demonstrate that lizard-people could go outside and live like equals to humans. That started with proving your mate bond was true and necessary, scientifically. And if that meant to be fucked in front of some researcher, so be it.
The talk with your mate went as well as expected. He was more than okay with the idea of fucking you again, but not so keen on the idea of other people being there. But the head researcher insisted it was important for somebody to be in the room with you to catalog fine movements and reactions that cameras couldn’t capture. You agreed with them on that, that’s the only reason you accepted (nothing to do with the fact that you might or might not have a bit of an exhibitionist kink).
And that’s why you were naked over a medical bed with your lizard-man mate over your body and a researcher standing a few meters away. Your pussy was already wet, needy and desperate to be filled to the brim again. Your lizard mate was looking at you intensely, caressing your body with one hand as he jerked his upper dick with the other. You knew this position meant big dick downstairs, and you were already anticipating the stretch.
He approached you and rubbed his small upper dick against your entrance. “Good job, keep going,” the researcher instructed. “Touch her pussy.”
Your lizard stopped and turned to look at them. “Don’t tell me what to do with my mate,” he growled, making the researcher step back and cover their mouth. “You are here because she wanted it, but I will kill you if you say more,” the danger in his tone indicated he wasn’t kidding. And it made your clit tingle.
You reached up to touch his face and redirect his attention to you, rolling your hips to feel his dick against your needy pussy. He pushed his dick slowly, breathing hard over you, his eyes never leaving yours. You could hear his tail thrashing behind him as you caressed his head with your short nails. He purred, making you giggle as he pushed his upper dick a bit further inside your pussy. The groan he got in response made him chuckle as you felt his claws probing your asshole.
“Are you going to be a good mate today, too?” His question was filled with hope, and you could only nod, trusting him and his magic precum to make it possible. Seeing as you woke up without any pain, you guessed the magic was more than great and would help you out this time around, too. “Such a good mate for me, your holes are so perfect,” he was talking to you but not really. He seemed far away, like your pussy was transporting him into another dimension.
He started rubbing his big dick against your asshole, and you instantly felt the calmness and relaxation of his precum, allowing him to push the tip inside. You cried out, way too big. There was no pain, but the stretch was noticeable as he kept going, and going, and going… By the time he was fully inside you were breathing hard and he had crazed eyes. It was intoxicating.
“How is he doing that?” The researcher asked out loud, stepping a bit closer and earning themselves a warning growl.
“Ssssshut up!” Your lizard mate hissed in their direction, his pace fluttering at the distraction.
“But I-” The researcher tried again.
You looked over at them, trying to move your hips to get your mate to move again. “I will fill a report later,” you told them between pants.
“But I-,” they insisted.
It was enough. “SHUT UP!” You yelled at them as your lizard man stopped moving completely to glare at you, surprised. “Shut the fuck up and I will answer the questions, but you won’t be able to get any responses if you don’t shut up and let my mate fuck me senseless,” you let out between your teeth.
Said mate liked your outburst very much, soon grabbing your face forcefully to look at you. He started fucking you with intent then, the combination of his dicks inside of you driving you insane in a matter of seconds. He reached you neck and squeezed, feeling the vibrations of your moans against his hand and increasing his thrusts to make you lose your mind.
You felt something different this time, the tip of his scaled tail reaching around his body to rub against your clit. The textured surface made you see stars and the universe as he played with you in every way, taking your pleasure to the next level. It was exhilarating, your mouth open and your head thrown back as he fucked you like a machine.
He lowered his body, whispering against your ear: “Come for me, my mate, let me feel your holes milking me.” And like a good girl, you exploded into a million pieces as he growled over you and painted your insides with his cum.
This time around he didn’t stop, though. He kept fucking you for what felt like hours, probably were. You forgot everything about research and people watching, you forgot everything about your boss and the world. You could only focus on his dicks inside of you and his tail rubbing your clit until you came so many times that you had to ask for mercy, which he sweetly complied. He kissed your forehead and pulled out, leaving you messy and exhausted.
Once again you found yourself creampied in front of all your colleagues. Your job was suddenly a lot more interesting than two days ago.
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emilys-bangs · 2 days
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The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !
Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.
You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.
You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘
Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3
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Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning
Word count: 2.5k
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You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.
It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 
At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.
Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 
Everyone except you.
It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 
But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 
“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.
You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”
Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.
“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.
Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.
Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.
“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.
She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.
“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”
You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”
But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.
Your throat goes dry. 
Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.
Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.
Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.
“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 
There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.
God, you need to go to bed.
“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”
That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”
You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.
“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”
“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”
That makes you crack a smile.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.
It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.
It’s fine. Sure it is.
You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.
She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.
She’s not wearing a bra.
You’re staring.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.
“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.
She’s literally going to be the death of you.
“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.
“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.
Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 
It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.
Emily.
Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.
Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.
You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.
You should let her go. 
It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 
It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.
But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.
You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.
Fuck.
You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 
Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.
———
She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.
Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.
Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.
Emily’s eyes flutter open. 
Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 
You’re caught.
Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.
Just before you apologize, she does.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”
“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.
“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.
“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”
Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.
“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”
Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.
“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”
The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.
It only confirms your love for her.
Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 
She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.
It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.
“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.
Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.
“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”
You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”
Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”
Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.
“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”
She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.
You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 
“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”
Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.
“Never.” You whisper.
Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.
Because now, you have all the time in the world.
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) - HEADCANONS
Requested: No
Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)
Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language
A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^
Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus
Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms
Mattheo Riddle:
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His feelings for you probably confused him at first 
If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)
Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back
Will tell you things he never told anyone
Would rather spend time with you than with his friends
Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 
VERY jealous, but trusts you
Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 
LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him
He's crazy about your body
Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends
HOT, passionate sex
Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)
100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time
Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him
Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger
You're his whole world
Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 
Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious
Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed
Will listen to anything you have to say 
Crazy about your perfume
Theodore Nott:
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Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 
Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you
It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’
Always goes to you for comfort 
Loves sleeping with you in his arms/on his laps, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you
Loves watching you sleep 
Loves having you on his lap
Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)
“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”
Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 
Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)
Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public
Always has a hand on your waist or around your shoulders 
Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t really interested in it
Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 
Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him
Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  
Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games during summer
Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 
He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"
The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact at all times, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)
Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 
Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it
His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother
Will tell you sweets things in Italian
Very clingy in private - and also in public with time
With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had
Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 
Will often say you're all he has (and means it)
But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend
Blaise Zabini:
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Probably will court you like the gentleman he is
He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 
But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot
Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 
Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead
However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you
Dates in parks or restaurants  
Get you flowers at least once a month
Will always defend you against others 
One of his love languages is acts of service
Lorenzo Berkshire:
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You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between
Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 
Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about how he feels about you
Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 
Always smiles when you enter a room
So supportive 
Loves when you're on his lap
He has no problem with PDA
Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree
He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 
Loves taking naps with you 
Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food
Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations
Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 
Many pet names
If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world
Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous
His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him
Draco Malfoy:
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Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention
Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say he doesn’t work
Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 
At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence
With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father
Takes you on dates every chance he gets
Will ditch his friends to spend time with you
Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you
So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant
Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 
Will invite you to his home and write you nearly everyday during holidays
Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you
Surprisingly has no problem with PDA
Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches
Tom Riddle:
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Oh boy
It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for he reason he can’t understand
SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why
Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one
Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who it was
Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants
After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it
Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 
Won’t let another man touch you
Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him
Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work
No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 
Is a surprisingly good listener 
VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you
“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 
He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)
Will let flowers in your room with a note on it
Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 
Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him
Is secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 
As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power or spending a simple life with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 
As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 
Possessive kisses 
Would hurt anyone who does you wrong
Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough
May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 
Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path
Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you
Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough
You’re the first (and only) person he will feel romantic love for
He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel
Loves fingering you
"You like it, dove?"
Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 
Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours
Regulus Black:
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Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way
Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at
You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years
He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings
Always defends you
He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers
Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)
Thinks he’s very lucky to have you
Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 
A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you
Will gladly do your homework with/for you
Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close
Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)
Will literally do everything you ask him to
You’re everything to him
Can’t stay away from you for long
Will get worried if you’re five minutes late
Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 
Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher
Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder
You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 
If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him
Harry Potter:
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Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 
His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had
Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  
Loves cuddles
Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does
Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you
Hot kisses in private
Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 
He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do
Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands
Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear
Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it
During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)
Very supportive 
Loves getting you gifts 
You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 
Gets more and more clingy with time
Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)
I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs
However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come
Any act of service you do for him means a lot
You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine
Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 
Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 
Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 
Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be
Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you
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shawtuzi · 2 days
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this one’s for you anon <33
this is 18+ so mdni thank yew
“oh….wow….”
you were absolutely speechless at the sight between your legs—suguru holding satoru by the hairs at the nape of his neck in a heated….kiss???
you knew nothing good could come out of more than half a bottle of d’usse and two blunts, hence why the two of them were between your legs once again, taking turns obscenely slurping at your pussy—but something felt different this time.
the first time they ate you out, yes their tongues were in close proximity but they never exactly touched. this time around though, they had no problem tonguing at your clit at the same time, moaning in unison as they made out with your pussy and boarder line each other but not quite. until geto abruptly stopped and pulled gojo in for a bruising kiss.
“really? in front of her??” satoru giggled, laughing even harder when geto shoved him away, wiping your essence and the salvia from the kiss from his puffy lips. suguru kissed his teeth, “let’s not act like you weren’t trying to shove your tongue down my throat a minute ago,” he said referring to gojo purposely brushing his tongue against his while they were going down on you.
satoru’s eyes flicked over to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “look at her,” he chuckled nodding his head towards you, “babies at a loss of words.”
“well i mean how could i not be i just saw you two kiss—with a lot of tongue mind you!” you knew the two boys were very close and had a knack of sharing their women but this was very unexpected, just how far did things go between them??
“him giving me head is as far as it’s ever gone,” suguru said, breaking you out of your thoughts. he continued, “when spend copious amounts of time with someone you begin to get curious about things…didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if we did—”
“no no!” you squealed, shaking your head. you sat up to get a better look at them, “i’m not uncomfortable i just wasn’t expecting that is all,” you giggled, giving suguru’s arm a comforting squeeze. you leant over and grabbed a roach from the coffee table, now getting comfortable on the couch, confusing the two men kneeling before you.
you sparked the blunt, a mischievous glint swirling in your eyes. “did you like it?” you asked taking a hit of the blunt. geto’s cheeks immediately tinted pink, he cleared his throat before answering, “yeah it was pretty good.”
gojo scoffed, “‘pretty good’ yeah right. you were immobile by the time i was done with you.”
you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past your lips—the image of suguru geto sprawled out, breathless, and unable to move because of some head from gojo had you a little tickled….and kinda turned on.
“y/n are you okay? your smile is kinda creeping me out,” geto’s words fell on deaf ears, your mind too preoccupied with the best fucking idea you’ve ever had. “i have an idea, a really good one—suguru take off your pants.”
“huh???”
“yesssss!”
“please be quiet satoru.”
and that my friends is how geto ended up swapping places with you, sweatpants around his ankles, eyes rolled into the back of his skull while you and gojo both slurped at the tip of his dick.
“do you like it sugu? you aren’t even looking at us,” you pouted, cupping his balls in your hand, giving them a semi-rough squeeze. suguru’s mouth dropped open, his chest now heaving up and down rapidly.
“i c-can’t look—fuck! i can’t or i’ll cum i can’t i can’t i can’t,” his voice was shaky with every word it was too cute. you’ve never seen him in such a state—it made you kinda jealous gojo got to see him like this whenever he pleased.
“open your eyes suguru c’monnn,” satoru snickered, squeezing suguru’s tip so perfectly it had his toes curling. geto’s eyes suddenly popped open when he felt sloppy kisses against his thick thighs, he gritted his teeth, grabbing gojo by his white locks.
“don’t. do. that.” suguru panted, the urge to cum becoming unbearable. gojo cocked his head to the side, he licked his lips, humming at the salty yet sweet taste that was suguru geto. “what? you don’t want y/n to know how sensitive your thighs are—hmph!” satoru was interrupted by geto shoving his dick in his mouth, a low rumble emitting from his chest.
“thas’ more like it….c’mere baby,” suguru patted the spot on the couch next to him, his other hand still holding gojo’s hair in a tight grip. you were quick to hop on the couch, immediately smashing your lips against geto’s. geto moaned into the kiss, his arm finding purchase around your waist to pull you closer.
you ran your hand down suguru’s chiseled chest, satisfied by the little whimper that slipped past his lips when you began to tweak at his nipples. his hips bucked up making satoru gag, but it was certainly nothing he couldn’t handle. geto’s hand snaked down to your soaked center, he wasted no time plunging two fingers inside, his thumb making quick work rubbing tight circles on your clit.
the three of you stayed like this for a while—suguru sloppily fingering your dripping cunt, meanwhile satoru deep throated sugu’s dick like his life depended on it. “i’m!—i’m cumming!” your pussy clenched around geto’s fingers like a vice, your body slumping against his.
geto still held you close, roughly pumping his fingers in and out in and out until your thighs were soaked and you were pushing him away with whatever strength you had left. gojo pulled off geto’s dick with a lewd pop! “mmm that was hot y/n,” he smiled up at you, running his big hand over your trembling thigh.
“think you can help me finish him off?”
you’ve never been knocked out of your post nut clarity so quick. you didn’t even bother responding, hopping off the couch and onto the floor once more between suguru’s thighs.
man did he look so good right now. his hair that was once in a bun was completely disheveled, strands of jet black hair out in every direction. his chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, along with his face that was also a couple shades redder than when you first started. his muscles were bulging out due to him having the couch cushions in a death grip. yeah he looked delicious.
“ah shit,” suguru hissed when felt two hot tongues begin to caress his weeping tip. you suddenly felt a heavy hand rest on your head, turning it ever so slightly to the side until you were practically locking lips with gojo, suguru’s twitching dick still in the middle. geto let out a low whistle, patting your head gently, “what a fucking sight—ah! this is mmm fuck.”
geto’s praise had you both preening, now making it your mission to make him cum. you swirled your tongue down sugu’s dick to his balls, sucking one into your mouth. you ran your hand over geto’s trembling thigh gently before digging your nails into the soft skin, you dragged your nails down, leaving red streaks trailing behind.
“f-fuck shit—okay m’cumming m’cummingggg,” suguru threw his head back, moaning so loudly and pathetically it had your thighs clenching with need once more. milky white spurts dribbled from his cock and you and satoru slurped up every bit, the feeling of both your tongues lapping at his tip nearly driving him into overstimulation.
gojo gripped you by your cheeks, pulling you in for a nasty kiss full of tongue and clashing teeth. “that was good yeah?” he smirked, wiping spit from your bottom lip. you nodded slowly, mind a daze from what had just happened. gojo chuckled giving you another kiss, which you happily returned.
“doesn’t the guy who just got his soul sucked out deserve a kiss too?”
you both turned your heads to look up a breathless suguru, his bottom lip poking out just the slightest. you climbed on the couch, satoru following suit before leaning in to give geto exactly what he asked for.
you’d never been in a three way kiss before but it was definitely something. the three of you took turns sloppily exchanging kisses, and you definitely didn’t miss the way suguru palmed at satoru’s erection, making him whimper into the kiss.
“need some help?” you asked, breaking away from the heated kiss. gojo being the shameless man he was nodded with a pathetic ‘pleaseeee’.
“what do you say sugu?” you purred, looking up at him with the best doe eyes you could give. suguru looked at the both of your before letting out a dramatic sigh, “i guess—”
“YES! REJOICE!!!” satoru jumped up, quickly removing his pants, freeing his aching dick from its confinements. he cackled at the look on suguru’s face,“don’t worry i’ll go easy on you sweetheart,” he giggled patting his cheek.
what on earth had geto gotten himself into???
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