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allaboutnayeli · 4 months ago

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STAR GIRL | s.paralluelo x reader

summary: fans go crazy online after you make your first appearance at a barcelona game as salma's wag.

author notes: this is a fic for my bestie @pinkyqil expect i changed the entire plot and took a thousand years to post this. regardless, enjoy it 💓

contains: salma paralluelo x model!reader, implied black!fem!reader but yk if the shoe doesn't fit just use your imagination babes, salma being downbad, reader is not spanish but their entire career is mostly in spain, lesbians being lesbians, smau? nah social media just mentioned 🙏🏾, badly translated spanish don't mind it please, TW!! probably my worst piece of work

playing fashion killa by a$ap rocky 🎵

the sound of the chants from the fans in the stadium pound in your ears as you sit down. you smile at olga when she turns to talk to you, "el estadio está animado hoy, ¿no?"

you nod in agreement, "reminds me of male football games. i love how the women's game is growing."

the stadium is absolutely packed with fans with this being an el clásico match. you're so happy that this is your first experience of a women's match. you grew up with a family obsessed with football, but only on the male side. it isn't until you met salma that you got interested in this side of the sport.

olga lets out a hum of agreement, her eyes now focused on the pitch. your eyes focus there too. the players are out on the pitch now, you should have known with how much the cheers increased. immediately you spot salma walking out behind ona. a smile breaks out on your face; the main reason you were here was salma.

you and salma met through a mutual friend. both of you went to that friend's birthday dinner and hit it off right away. salma was a little starstruck since she has seen photos of you around barcelona for a while now while you didn't know about women's soccer or women's sports in general, but knew about salma's existence. all you knew about her was that she's good and a rising star, just like how you are in modeling.

the more you got to know her, the more you fell in love until eventually you confessed your feelings and thankfully she liked you back. you both decided to keep the relationship low-key for a while, just to let you two get comfortable and secure. that doesn't mean she hasn't been to some of your shows, bringing along vicky since you said she could bring a plus one. it's easy to act like the tall girl was just at the shows because she enjoyed the fashion or was invited by someone other than you. however, this el clásico match was the first time you have ever step foot in a soccer stadium for salma in particular. your schedule wasn't the most forgiving and somehow during the season, you were always swamped with shows and photoshoots.

now you made time to come to a game and you don't regret it.

the match flows well, but still the competition between the opposing teams is intense. you try to look at everyone on the pitch, but your eyes naturally focus on salma only. she looks gorgeous, all focused and in the zone. you feel starstruck seeing her in an environment that she absolutely thrives in.

half-time comes quickly and barcelona is up by four while real madrid only has scored two so far. you're proud to say two of those four goals were scored by your beautiful girlfriend. the same girlfriend who somehow is able to spot you before entering the tunnel. salma waves, a bright smile on her lips. she isn't able to come over to you as jana pulls her into the tunnel.

olga immediately turns to you, starting to talk about the match so far. you try to keep up the conversation as long as possible, but all your mind is on is your girlfriend and how good she looked on the pitch. also that adorable smile she sent your way. eventually the spainish woman turns to alba who's on the left side of her, leaving you to your own thoughts. not for long as someone moves to sit next to you.

a blonde girl with a barcelona jersey and some denim shorts smiles when your eyes land on her.

"i love your modeling, can i get a picture?" she asks, a nervous tone in her voice. you agree right away, "of course."

you lean into the girl as she takes a few selfies. then she moves back to her original seat next to her friends, a bright smile on her lips and giggling about how she met one of the best models in spain.

it's a surprise that more people haven't tried to approach you for a photo since it has been a good hour of you being in the stadium at this point and whether it is really you is not a question anymore. your popularity in spain and europe in general has been growing especially after your campaign with chanel. walking around barcelona and seeing your face in stores was crazy, but you just have to get use to it now.

you are a star.

and so is salma. you see star power written all over her as the players come back out for the second half. the tall girl smiles and waves at you just like she did earlier. ingrid pats her back, making her focus. you can tell she will definitely be teased about this later on and come complaining to you about it.

the match continues on with barcelona coming out strong with a fiery passion you can't help but to admire. when salma scores her third goal of the day, you swear you screamed the loudest.

right when the match is finished, with a barcelona win six to two against real madrid, you make your way down to the pitch alongside olga and alba. you get stopped twice by some fans, but eventually you make it down there.

"hi baby!" you smile as salma pulls you into her arms. the hug lasts for a few moments before the tall girl pulls away to look at you, "you look so pretty in my jersey."

"not as pretty as you looked playing," you say back to her, admiring how well she looks after playing a full 90 minutes. you two's eyes meet, making you both giggle.

before y'all can continue the conversation, vicky interrupts, walking right up next to salma.

"you didn't tell me your girlfriend was that pretty model we see in the beauty store all the time," vicky playfully glares at salma before smiling at you, "hi, i'm vicky, the better player between the two of us."

you laugh softly at how quickly salma's smile drops. she tries to push vicky away from the two of you, but fails because vicky grabs her arm, making them both almost fall.

"¿puedes dejar de intentar avergonzarme?" salma says, making away from vicky so she can pull you close.

"entonces deja de ser vergonzoso y no lo haré," vicky says back. she gives you another smile before moving away.

"she's so sweet," you say once the younger player is out of earshot. salma immediately gives you a playful glare that doesn't hold when you laugh at her expression. she kisses the laughter off of your lips, smiling when she pulls away, "she's a pain in my ass."

salma got pulled away for a post-match interview, so you ended up going with vicky into the locker room. sitting down in salma's cubby while talking to vicky about the most random of topics. at first you were a little hesitant about coming into the locker room when none of the players knew you personally, just yet, but vicky reassured you that it's fine and in the end it was as the other barcelona players didn't really care. too high off the win.

when salma comes into the locker room, she rolls her eyes when she spots vicky near you.

"is she bothering you, bonita?" salma comes to her cubby, pecking your forehead before looking at vicky. the younger girl rolls her eyes then shrugs, "i wouldn't call it bothering.. more like entertainment."

"well she doesn't need anymore entertainment from you so shoo."

vicky doesn't get a chance to make a cheeky reply back because alexia walks past, saying, "leave her alone, salma."

"what? i didn't do anything!" salma frowns but alexia is already over at mapi's cubby, obviously ignoring her words. vicky sticks out her tongue at salma before going to bother jana.

you giggle as salma frown intensifies, "it's okay, baby."

you go out with salma and the team later at night, happily celebrating the win. of course you tried to keep a low profile, but that failed when salma got some alcohol in her and decided to start going around talking about how she has the best girlfriend ever to random strangers. you stayed sober enough to get both salma and you to her apartment.

trying to get salma off of you, so you could do your skincare routine and brush your teeth was a struggle but she tired herself out, so she ended up falling asleep on the floor beside you in the bathroom. the tall girl resting her head against your leg, having just enough energy to wrap her arms around your leg.

"c'mon baby.." you move slightly so she wakes up. salma is not typically a pouter, but she pouts when she looks up at you.

you laugh softly but continue encouraging her to get up. "baby seriously. stand up so we can go to bed and cuddle all you want." salma perks up at the mention of cuddling. she stands, immediately hugging you and essentially putting all her weight on you. of course you stumble a bit because having all that muscle suddenly on you is not easy, but you don't fall over. slowly but surely you get salma and you to bed.

"hm.. goodnight," the spanish player says, snuggling up to your body. she is fast asleep when you say it back even though it only took you a minute or two.

"goodnight baby," you murmur against the top of her head.

in the morning, you wake up earlier than salma due to needing to get ready for a few shoots you have today. the extra time in the morning gives you some time to cook breakfast since you knew your girlfriend's hangover would be pretty bad. the woman in question stumbles into the kitchen right when the cooking is finished.

"buenos días hermosa," she says softly, coming up next to you to get a hug. she pecks your cheek before pulling away to go sit down at the counter.

"good morning, did you sleep well?" you plate the food, sliding one in front of salma before sitting next to her.

"yeah.. but my head is killing me," there goes another pout on salma's lips. you giggle, just gesturing the water bottle on the counter. she grabs it, chucking half of it before setting it down.

"better?"

"slightly," salma shrugs. then she starts to eat and you do too. a comfortable silence falls between you two, just the sound of forks scraping glass plates and the soft hums of satisfaction.

you get up first, moving to wash your plate. salma gets up not that long after you.

you slide over slightly so you both can stand at the sink. "what time are you leaving again?" salma asks.

"around ten, why?" you finish washing your plate, setting it aside to dry before looking at her.

"because i want more cuddles with my girlfriend and your job is intervening with that." with a flair of childishness salma looks away from you to look at her plate like it's entirely your fault you need to leave soon. you laugh at her little attitude, pecking her cheek before moving away from the sink. the clock was ticking and you really had to get ready soon if you were going to be on time to your first shoot of the day.

you slip away into salma's bedroom, having left enough clothes over her place to change into. you end up wearing some of hers anyways, but no body has to know about that part. it's when you're trying to decide how to do your makeup for today that your agent texts you. the specific ringtone you set for the woman rings out into salma's bathroom.

a sigh leaves your lips as you pick up the device, clicking on the message,

cynthia with the blonde bob

you're going absolutely viral on social media right now

the message makes you furrow your brows in confusion. you go viral quite often, but your mind doesn't immediately catch onto why you're going viral right now in particular. until you look in the mirror and see that you're wearing salma's t-shirt with her sweatpants. then you remember how you took a few photos with fans at the el clásico game; you're going viral because of your relationship. it's endearing, but a little frightening because your sexuality has never been discussed at the court that is social media, but you calm yourself.

your agent wouldn't be having such an enthusiastic tone if it was anything bad.

the first app you go on is twitter and your name is trending alongside fc barcelona,

alexiacouldsteponme

salma having a model gf was not on my bingo card for this year

lucysfavefangirl

wow salma congrats... 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔

inlovewithmapileon

y/n is one of the best models in the new generation and salma is one of the best players in the new soccer generation. power couple anyone?

and more tweets with a similar tone. most are about how they didn't expect you to be gay or how salma and you have matching braids or how good you looked in the stands.

"at least they're all positive," you say as you set your phone down.

"at least what is all positive?" salma walks up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"all your fans reactions to us," you say softly.

salma smiles, "they love you nearly as much as i do."

you laugh at her words then continue finishing up your makeup with a clingy salma attached to your back. she frowns when you actually have to leave, pulling you in for a good-bye kiss.

"love you," she smiles

"love you more, my superstar."

author notes: i love how it takes me ten business days to upload a fic after posting one, love it so much. anyways hope y'all liked it! it doesn't really go anywhere and is sorta boring but yk we ball 🔥🔥🔥

#salma paralluelo x reader #fc barcelona x reader #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso fanfics

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copper-16 · 11 months ago

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did she feel better than me?

A continuation/parallel of girlgenius1111's work titled "do you want my attention?"

Mapi makes the decision to rile Ingrid up with the help of Alexia's girlfriend. And she gets exactly what she wants...in due time.

(a/n: My brain simply couldn’t get out of its head what Mapi and Ingrid did after Alexia and r left the club, so I reached out to girlgenius1111 and got permission to write about the same story but from Ingrid and Mapi’s perspective! Please, please go read their fic first mostly because it is phenomenal and also a little bit because this will make more sense if you have read that first - I have it linked at the bottom of this!

This is literally eight thousand words of sex. I'm normally a pretty vanilla person (nothing wrong with that yk just personal preference!) so this isn’t the spiciest or craziest thing in the world by any means, but it's still spice and not much else.

Also I couldn't make up my mind about who would be more possessive over who so this is giving major switch energy...I plead the fifth I'm indecisive!)

The thing was that the last few weeks had been hectic, to say the least. The schedule for Barcelona was packed with league matches combined with Champions League games to be played, and then for Ingrid, national team camp only added to that already frantic schedule.

But Mapi was still not playing for her national team, which meant that she had been left with two weeks to herself before Ingrid had gotten home that Sunday, just a few nights ago.

Two weeks to miss Ingrid.

Two weeks to miss…certain things about her. Two weeks of waking up alone and going to bed by herself, left with far too much time to imagine exactly all the ways she wanted the Norwegian.

Mapi wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was getting a little bit desperate. It had been weeks since they had done anything really, and this past week she could feel herself getting wet just when the Norwegian looked at her a little hard while they were with the team.

The week leading up to their Friday game was a lot, with a Champions League game on Tuesday and added practices considering that they had the upcoming weekend off. Ingrid had arrived back from Oslo late on Sunday night, and with the chaos of the schedule, they hadn’t had time to do anything other than a hot makeout session before leaving for training one morning, which had left Mapi more wrecked and wet than she cared to admit.

Between herself and the other girls on the team, they managed to wear Alexia and the captains down to the point where they all agreed to go out to the club after the Friday game. It was a surprising move from the Barcelona captain, but when she takes one look at her girlfriend’s outfit, at the way her eyes paused at the lace covered chest, at the way it pulled across taut and supple skin, all of the girls can’t help but smirk in understanding at one another.

Mapi had dressed the part as well, knowing exactly what she wanted to come out of this night. She had days, weeks really, to come up with the perfect plan, and she wasn’t going to let this night go to waste without completing it. She had on black leather pants that she knew made her ass look good, and a maroon corset top cinched over her chest.

Ingrid was wearing a sapphire colored crop top coupled with a pair of black jeans that Mapi couldn’t stop staring at as they walked into the club. But she needed to focus, she had a plan to complete and it wasn’t Ingrid who needed to agree to it in order for it to work. No sooner had they made it through the door than the defender was pulling their teammate toward the bar, Ingrid and Alexia watching their respective girlfriends go with raised eyebrows, already slightly suspicious.

But the two taller women say nothing, getting a table before they all order their drinks. Ingrid can’t help but look surprised when Alexia orders a gin and tonic, after the Norwegian had rattled off her request for a negroni.

“Drinking tonight, Ale?” The dark haired midfielder asked, clearly more than a little amused. But Alexia just scowled, her gaze not meeting Ingrid’s, but rather still trained toward the bar, where Mapi and her girlfriend were standing, clearly in conversation.

“I feel like the night calls for it,” Alexia murmured carefully as the two Barcelona players turn back toward the table where their partners are, both of their girlfriends greeting them warmly.

The two women stand at the table for maybe thirty seconds before they are headed toward the dance floor, a pair of hazel and green eyes tracking their every move. Caro and Patri could only watch in complete amusement as Alexia and Ingrid don’t even bother to try conversing anymore, simply too enamored with their respective girlfriend to care about trying to seem civilized. None of the women at the table are dancers per say, but the two midfielders are staring at their girlfriends like they might be considering it, given how aggressively their eyes are tracking the women.

Alexia, surprisingly, seemed to have less restraint than Ingrid for once, the Spaniards hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were beginning to turn white. When her girlfriend turned toward her, her ass pressed back into Mapi, the captain shakes her head slightly, but she only receives a nod that looks suspiciously like a smile in response.

Ingrid was slightly more composed than her fellow midfielder, but it still wasn’t hard to spot the fact that she was staring at Mapi, her gaze intent. The club was busy, and it was a gay club, so to say that the two dancers had eyes on them would have been an understatement, but they only had eyes for their respective partner, too busy trying to make them jealous to notice the abundance of women watching them.

It’s when Mapi’s hand reaches around to practically palm at her teammate's chest as she turns her head into her hair to speak to her in such an intimate way that Alexia finally snaps, Ingrid right along with her. In reality, the top of her thumb only made it far enough up to graze at the underside of her chest, but that feels like semantics to the Barcelona midfielders right now.

“Come to dance?” Alexia is asked by her girlfriend as she presses into their space, and the blonde looks nearly murderous. Ingrid isn’t really paying attention to them though, far too focused on letting her eyes rove up and down Maria, who is pointedly choosing not to look at her in favor of the discussion, or rather lack thereof, that is happening in front of them.

“I think we’ve had enough dancing,” the Spaniard grits out as she pulls her girlfriend flush with her side, not even bothering with a goodbye before the two are moving through the club, leaving the Spaniard and Norwegian alone.

It’s only at this point that Mapi finally lets her eyes meet Ingrid, and she can’t help but bite her lip to force back a whimper at the look that Ingrid is giving her, at the intensity of it. She entirely misses the way that a triumphant smile is thrown back at her by her teammate, clearly thrilled that their plan has worked, in favor of holding Ingrid’s green eyes, which could only be described as smoldering.

She was completely entranced, didn’t even care about the fact that everyone around them was dancing, can’t do anything but hold Ingrid’s gaze, can’t tear her eyes away from the green ones watching her so closely.

It’s only when Ingrid looks away, clearing her throat lightly that Mapi feels herself suck in a breath, unaware that she had even been holding it to begin with.

“Dance?” Ingrid asks lightly, her tone too innocent and unassuming given the circumstances. It honestly throws the defender for a loop, but she chooses to follow along. She expected for Ingrid to get possessive in the way that Alexia had, but it’s clear that the Norwegian is playing a bit longer of a game then the blonde captain had been able to manage.

“Sure,” Mapi acquiesces, and Ingrid turns on a dime, pressing her entire body back into the Spaniard, who grips it with ease. They’ve been together for long enough to know each other's bodies well, perhaps even better than their own.

And still, Ingrid pressed against her feels like the most natural thing in the world for the brunette. Dancing to make their respective girlfriends jealous was fine if not a bit awkward, tense and tight, the knowledge that neither of them really wanted to be doing it other than to make someone jealous, not allowing them to really enjoy it.

But it isn’t like that with the Norwegian, quite the opposite in fact. Her hips move in time with Mapi, her back completely flush with the Spaniard’s front. The brunette’s hands reach around to grasp at Ingrid’s hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she ground into the dark haired woman, trying not to let out a whimper when the Norwegian arched her back.

They’ve been dancing together for a few minutes when Ingrid finally places one of her hands over Mapi’s, pulling it up and over her stomach and chest, reminiscent of something that the Spaniard did just a few minutes ago with another woman.

Mapi swallowed as Ingrid brought her hand up high and higher, until it was fully on top of her right breast, and she squeezed Mapi’s hand lightly, the defender's hand pressed under the midfielders meaning that she ended up gently kneading the Norwegian’s chest at the action. The Spaniard lets out a harsh breath at the feeling, at the action itself but also the publicity of it.

Ingrid loved her girlfriend very much, but she admittedly was no longer huge on such sexual public displays. And it had been months since she was this forward in public, and it was turning Mapi on so much that it was practically painful. She remembered the early days of their relationship, when she had been so attracted and desperate for the defender that they couldn’t even make it home, but rather had to fuck in the club bathroom, the Norwegian’s hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from getting them caught.

Alexia’s jealousy might have burned hot and bright, but Ingrid’s simmered. It continued even when Mapi’s hands were all over her body in wildly inappropriate ways, low and threatening, more contained but no less deadly when it finally did strike.

Ingrid threw her head back on Mapi’s shoulder, her back once again arching as she tilted her head toward the Spaniard, her nose brushing against the defender's neck before she spoke. Her voice was thick and low, and Mapi felt her legs involuntarily clench together at the feeling. But the words out of her mouth are ones that the brunette wasn’t expecting, and it causes her to do a bit of a double take.

“Did she feel better than me?” Ingrid husks, and Mapi stills against her, her expression jumping in surprise. It seemed like an outrageous question, with the simplest of answers.

Never.

“What?” She asks, the surprise evident in her tone. It’s at this that Ingrid pulls away entirely, spinning around until her front is pressed into Mapi’s, their chests pressed together as she looks at the defender, their faces barely inches apart. It’s then that the Spaniard sees the jealousy, painted into the lines of her girlfriend's face.

“I said. Did. She. Feel. Better. Than. Me?” Ingrid spits out, each individual word holding a note of malice, and Mapi’s eyes narrow as she presses further into Ingrid, their lips brushing together, not caring who saw them.

“No.” Mapi answers plainly, because it’s an answer that doesn’t need to be undressed to be completely true.

“Prove it,” Ingrid snaps in response, and one of Mapi’s eyebrows lifts in surprise at her tone, but she pulls back slightly before nodding, grabbing the Norwegian’s hand and intending to lead them toward the exit, when the midfielder changes their direction, headed toward the bathrooms instead.

“Not there. Here. Right now,” Ingrid insists, and Mapi genuinely can’t believe that she’s hearing these words come out of her girlfriend's mouth, but she also doesn’t complain in the slightest. If anything, it’s more of a relief to know that the Norwegian still wants her this much, in this way. Not that Mapi doubted that very often, but occasionally when times like these last few weeks occurred, it was an inevitability.

Ingrid and Mapi had been together for nearly two years now, and the Spaniard sometimes wondered if she would ever grow tired of this, if their sex life would ever become boring. It was what had scared her about a long term relationship, but she found that the more that she grew to love Ingrid, the more she grew to enjoy and find the fun with experimenting in their relationship. She felt safe to let go, and not like she was contained in the ways she thought a relationship would bring.

Two years later, and there’s nobody else Mapi would ever fuck in a club bathroom, on the side of the road, in a bed, against the kitchen counter, anywhere, than whereever she was with Ingrid.

Ingrid leads them back toward the bathrooms of the club with little fanfare. There are separate rooms, two for the men and two for the women. The midfielder drags the two of them to the last one, all but shoving Mapi in the door and stepping in after her, clicking the lock shut before she’s on the Spaniard, pressing her back into the wall as their mouths finally meet.

The kiss is hot and desperate and needy, Ingrid’s mouth hard against Mapi’s, swallowing the light moan that the Spaniard lets out at the feeling of Ingrid’s body pressed so close to hers. The Norwegian leans back just far enough to splay one of her hands on the defender's abdomen, her lips moving down toward Mapi’s neck.

The brunette can’t help the whine that slips past her lips when Ingrid nips at her neck, and she can feel the way that the dark haired woman smiles against her skin as she soothes it with her tongue. Her mouth is insistent and unwavering in its path, kissing anywhere and everywhere as a litany of tiny breathy noises slips past the defenders lips. She moves up Mapi’s neck rapidly, before pulling back so that her mouth is right next to the Spaniard's ear.

“You know how much I love to hear how much you want me, but you’re going to get us caught María,” Ingrid murmurs before she returns to Mapi’s neck, her movements now languid and relaxed, a sharp contrast to the mildly frantic nature of her kisses before she stopped.

Mapi squirms uncomfortably, the ache between her legs growing hard to ignore. She can’t remember the last time she was this turned on, the last time she wanted Ingrid this badly. The brunette had a bit of a reputation for being rather voracious when it came to sex, and today was no different.

But the Norwegian is merciful, if only for the fact that she is equally as desperate, her hand descending rapidly south, her nimble fingers popping the button of Mapi’s pants before she pulls the leather down with a sharp tug. The midfielder managed to get the material to Mapi’s mid thigh, and that's really all the space she needs in honesty.

Ingrid cups the Spaniard over her underwear, letting out a harsh breath at how wet she found the fabric under her. Her expression told a different story, and when Mapi managed to work her eyes open she found a frown written across Ingrid’s face, one that made her pause, just slightly.

She’s about to ask Ingrid what’s wrong when without any warning whatsoever the midfielder shoves the brunette’s underwear to the side, sinking two fingers into the wet heat she finds between Mapi’s thighs.

The defender muffles her sharp cry with a hand to her mouth, her eyes slamming shut as stars practically erupt before her closed eyelids. Between the combination of dancing, the fact that it’s been weeks, and the stretch of two fingers right from the get go, Mapi is already painfully close.

Ingrid moves her fingers achingly slowly, and Mapi lets a little mewl past her fingers that has the Norwegian looking up at her sharply, clearly unimpressed. She clamps her hand over her mouth once more, her hips rutting down, chasing the light friction she’s being given.

It doesn’t really matter though. She’s so turned on that if Ingrid asked her to come, she probably would. It’s not going to take much.

Mapi knows it.

Ingrid knows it.

But the midfielder is still slightly desperate to drag this on despite the circumstances, so she continues with her bitterly slow pace as she looks Mapi in the eyes, her face tilted as she asks her the question.

“Would her fingers have felt better? Is it her who you imagine when I’m inside of you?” Ingrid taunts, the anger clear in her tone.

Mapi was hers, and hers alone.

She didn’t share.

“No, god no,” Mapi gasps out as Ingrid picks up her pace, faster and faster and faster until the Spaniard is gripping at her shoulders tightly, chasing the pleasure to the ends of the earth.

“Who is it you want then?” Ingrid husks, and the sound of her voice combined with the relentless pace is the thing that sends Mapi over the edge out of nowhere, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth as the coil within her snaps.

“You!” The defender moans out as her back arches into Ingrid, making a complete mess of her underwear as her body shakes and Ingrid grips her tightly. The Norwegian had to admit that she had been expecting the orgasm, but not for it to happen so quickly or quite so pornographically in nature, but she isn’t complaining. She simply holds her girlfriend as she comes down from her high, knowing what her next move is but also not wanting to be completely inconsiderate.

It’s only when Mapi’s body fully relaxes back into the wall that Ingrid slips out of her, walking over to the paper towel holder and cleaning her fingers before she moves toward the door.

“Car. Now.” Ingrid doesn’t even bother with full sentences, instead making her intention perfectly clear with two singular words. The Spaniard is quick to pull her pants up and button them, following the Norwegian out of the bathroom stall and to the car, where Ingrid slipped into the driver's seat. She had only had a few sips of her negroni, and didn’t even feel tipsy beyond the slight headiness of getting Maria off.

Speaking of, the defender had sat down in the car and barely closed her door before Ingrid was pulling away from the curb. Once they had gotten onto the road, the midfielder slid her right hand over, placing it as far up as she possibly could on Mapi’s thigh. The dark haired woman shows no evidence of being affected, compared to the brunette, who whimpers slightly as she shifts in her seat, moving toward Ingrid imperceptibly.

Despite the fact that she’s already had an orgasm, Mapi still feels desperate. She was hoping that coming would help to satiate her, but it seems to have only done the opposite. She needs Ingrid twice as much as she did at the club, and she’s fighting to sit still in her seat and not suggest they pull over for a repeat of the club, but on the side of the road.

And Ingrid is absolutely no help. Mapi isn’t sure if her desperation is all that transparent or if Ingrid is egging her on, but halfway through the drive she begins to rub tiny circles into the skin of Mapi’s inner thigh. It’s over the leather of her pants, but it’s still enough for the Spaniard to bite her lip to keep from letting out a grunt of frustration.

Mapi is so desperate in fact, that when Ingrid finally pulls the car up to their parking spot, she doesn’t even bother with allowing the Norwegian to get out of the car. She simply climbs over the center console, pressing down to shift Ingrid’s seat all the way back before she lands squarely in her lap. It’s a tight fit, but she honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck.

The defender wastes absolutely no time, gripping Ingrid’s face in her hands as she smashes their lips together in a searing kiss. Ingrid’s hands fly up to hold the Spaniard’s side, keeping her body flush with the Norwegian in the cramped car.

But Mapi doesn’t care, she simply presses her lips to Ingrid’s again and again and again, teeth clashing and thirst unquenchable as she slips her tongue into the midfielders mouth. She can’t help the grunt that shoves itself out when Ingrid slides her hands lower, palming at Mapi’s ass over the leather of her pants. The defender grinds down into Ingrid, even with how cramped her legs are, chasing any, any kind of friction.

Ingrid somehow manages to work one of her knees toward Mapi, so when the Spaniard grinds down again she is hit with an actual surface to grind against, and she tips her head back in an unabashed moan.

“Come on María, come for me,” Ingrid encourages, not expecting for much to happen from it. They’ve hardly done anything, and it’s nothing but a little bit of dirty grinding. They haven’t even lost any of their clothes yet.

But it only takes a few desperate movements from the brunette, directed in pace by Ingrid’s hands which are still on her ass, for Mapi’s head to fall back once more, her mouth opening in a silent cry as she crashes over the edge, Ingrid staring at her with wide eyes. It wasn’t a big orgasm, and it wasn’t really satisfying in the way that the defender desperately needed, but it was still an orgasm nonetheless.

The Norwegian couldn’t help but be surprised. Between the orgasm in the club and now one here in the car, she was starting to understand perhaps why Mapi had done the things in the club that she had. It didn’t excuse them, but she understood it now, at least.

And if she really was this desperate, then Ingrid was determined to give her exactly what she needed. Not without a little bit of teasing, however.

Ingrid leans over to pop her car door open, taking a moment to look at the foggy windows of her car before Mapi was stepping off of her and out toward their apartment, Ingrid following her quickly.

Mapi kept her head angled away from Ingrid, more than a little embarrassed about her now two orgasms. She knew she seemed desperate, but she really wished that she had more resolve than this. She wasn’t sure what Ingrid was thinking after that last orgasm, and her cheeks remained flush with embarrassment as they came to their front door. The Norwegian unlocked it for them before she held the door for her girlfriend, who still refused to meet her eyes.

Mapi tried to move past the entryway, but Ingrid wouldn’t let her. The midfielder grasped the defender's wrist, forcing her to turn around to face her.

“María?” Ingrid asked lightly, her tone a complete contrast to the entire night thus far. Now that the defender won’t even meet her eyeline, she needs to understand what is actually going on here. “What’s going on?”

Mapi shrugs, pulling her arm back to herself before she offers a half assed answer.

“I don’t know. It’s been awhile,” she commented off handedly, and Ingrid felt understanding begin to wash over her as she took Maria in. The flush of her cheeks, the way she was shifting from foot to foot, how she refused to meet the midfielder’s eyes after the orgasm in the car.

“Are you a little needy, corazón?” Ingrid asked, her voice low and thick, and Mapi looked up to find that the same fire that burned deep within her was mirrored back at her in the Norwegian’s eyes.

The shame she had felt walking back from the car melted away as she nodded, swallowing roughly. Ingrid had this uncanny ability to make her feel incredibly seen, even in instances like this, right now.

“Yes. For you, and only you,” Mapi adds the last sentence at the last second, and just as she hoped that it would, Ingrid’s face twisted into a satisfied smirk as she moved toward the Spaniard. The midfielder decides in that moment to take a bit of a different approach than what she had originally planned on. Because as much as Mapi had missed Ingrid, the Norwegian had missed the Spaniard just as much. Getting herself off in an empty hotel room devoid of the defender was no match to the real thing standing here in front of her. To the muscled and tattooed form she knew was hiding under all of that clothing, the soft peaks accompanied by taut and muscled valleys of her tan, tattooed skin.

So she decides to go about this in a way that will satisfy both of them, eventually .

“There’s other ways to get my attention than to put your hands all over another woman, you know that María?” Ingrid muses, her tone unserious but her words far more goading than Mapi had expected, and the brunette rushes to explain herself.

“I didn’t–” Mapi starts, only for Ingrid to press her back into the wall, her face inches from the defenders, once again. Her words are low and dripping with sex appeal, and if Mapi’s underwear weren’t already completely ruined it would be now.

“If you need me to fuck you, you tell me. Because you’re mine, and I don’t share with anyone, not our teammates, not the needy women at the club who eyefuck you, nobody.” Ingrid presses two of her fingers into the entrance of Mapi’s mouth, the Spaniards jaw slackening to allow for her to take the middle and ring finger of the midfielder into her mouth. Ingrid doesn't need to tell her for Mapi to know that she is supposed to suck, and that’s exactly what she does, her eyes never leaving Ingrid’s as she rolls her tongue over and over again.

Ingrid removes her fingers from Mapi’s mouth before she quickly steps out of her jeans, shucking off her pants and underwear before she slips her top off, and Mapi is rewarded with the sight of her bare chest.

Mapi follows suit, tugging her leather pants down before she undoes the tie of her corset top, tearing it off her skin, not caring if she ripped the stitching. She reaches back to unclip her bra, discarding it on the ground with little care as she returns to look at Ingrid.

But what she finds surprises her, because out of all the options she would have counted on, to look back and find her girlfriend touching herself was not one that Mapi was prepared for. Ingrid is pressed up against the opposite wall, her hand moving over her clit in small, tight circles as she breathes harshly, and it fills Mapi with a flare of jealousy, one that Ingrid immediately clocks, a smirk on her face before she opens her mouth to let out a breathy moan.

“Oh what? You want to help get me off, not her?” Ingrid asks lightly, her hips canting down slightly as her fingers speed up, and Mapi practically growls at the implication, her hands tightening into a fist. But Ingrid isn’t done yet, instead continuing to provoke her girlfriend, obsessed with the way that Maria is looking at her, all protective and filled with want.

“We could always call Alexia. I’m sure she would have no problem fucking me into next Tuesday if I asked,” Ingrid hums lightly, and the Spaniard’s lips pulled back in a snarl at the thought, suddenly feeling even more territorial. It’s that comment that finally snaps her restraint, and she charges across the hallway, shoving Ingrid’s fingers away from herself so that she can replace them with her own. The thought of Alexia having Ingrid like this, of anyone but her having Ingrid like this is enough to make her shudder with poorly concealed jealousy.

The Spaniard coats her fingers in the copious wetness that was accumulating between Ingrid’s legs before she slipped a finger into the midfielder, who let out a ragged sigh at the feeling. Her head thumped back against the wall as Mapi attached her lips to the sensitive skin of Ingrid’s neck. She works her lips and tongue down the column of her throat, stopping to suck harshly at her pulse point as the Norwegian lets out another breathy groan, opening her eyes to find Mapi looking at her with blown pupils and hooded eyes.

It’s all the encouragement needed for the dark haired woman to press herself further into Mapi, slipping her own hand in between their bodies to curl into the defender as well.

Mapi moans, not having expected Ingrid to do it, but she squirms and presses closer to the Norwegian at the feeling as she doubles down, increasing her pace, desperate to get Ingrid over the edge.

Desperate for Ingrid to only want her, and her alone.

Ingrid curls her fingers within Mapi, and the brunette's pace stutters as she lets out a keening whine, and Ingrid smirks around a groan that she lets out, looking far too self satisfied.

But Mapi’s face is still set in what can only be described as jealousy, and she increases her pace as Ingrid does as well.

Ingrid is closer than Mapi, but she shakes her head, clamping down on the brunette's fingers, forcing her to slow her pace.

“Together,” Ingrid insists, grits out really as she fights her own impending orgasm, and Mapi watches her for a second before she nods, focusing on her own pleasure for a moment as Ingrid’s fingers curl tighter into her. Mapi grips the Norwegian’s shoulder with her free hand, nearly sobbing in relief at the feeling of Ingrid so deeply inside of her, and just when she’s on the crest does she nod fervently. Ingrid relaxes herself, allowing for Mapi to pick up her pace once more.

Their front hallway is filled with the sound of choked sobs and low moans as the two women fall over the precipice, Mapi first and then Ingrid right after her, holding tightly to one another as their bodies shake and work through their respective orgasm.

Ingrid is the first of the two of them to fully come back to herself, but she allows for Mapi to remain tightly wound to her as the Spaniard shudders through her orgasm, letting out a sigh of relief as she lets out a final shake.

The Norwegian is looking at her with quirked lips, and Mapi looks slightly hazy, having finally, finally having gotten some of the relief that she had been craving so acutely.

Without words, the midfielder steps back into her space, pressing her lips to the corner of Mapi’s mouth for a moment before the Spaniard turns into her, kissing her properly.

Ingrid grips Mapi’s hand, bringing it forward to press it to her stomach before she slid it up, over her chest. Mapi took the hint easily, kneading at Ingrid’s breasts as the Norwegian whimpered slightly, a smirk still on her lips.

“And to think,” Ingrid began, her lips just barely ghosting over Mapi’s, they were so close together.

“It could be Alexia doing this,” the midfielder mused, and it’s enough to make Mapi’s whole face darken as she pulls back sharply.

“No.” Mapi answers simply, trying to sound tough, but it comes out rather breathy and needy.

“No? And why is that?” Ingrid asks, and Mapi is happy to supply the answer.

“You’re mine,” Mapi answers simply, and Ingrid grins devilishly before she pushes the Spaniard back slightly, offering her a wink before she begins to head to the bedroom.

Ingrid had the defender right where she wanted her, and she wasn’t about to let that go to waste. When Mapi slips in the door just a second after her, she’s greeted with the sight of Ingrid bent over, her perfect ass on display as she looks through their toy drawer.

Mapi was honestly expecting Ingrid to grab something to use on her, given the possessive nature of the Norwegian earlier in the night, but what she forgot to factor in was that perhaps Ingrid was just as desperate for some relief as she was.

So maybe Mapi really can’t be all that surprised when Ingrid tosses her the strap, before fishing out the toy she wants to use. It’s a green one, long and thin, and a personal favorite of the midfielder. The Norwegian watches with hungry eyes as Mapi attaches the toy to the strap before stepping into the harness, taking care to cinch it up all without her gaze ever leaving Ingrids.

When Mapi is finally getting the last few straps adjusted, Ingrid points toward the bed wordlessly, and despite the eyebrow raise she receives, the Spaniard is quick to obey, laying down on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to watch Ingrid.

The dark haired woman walks toward the bed slowly, climbing on top of Mapi and settling on her lap, her core connecting with the toy that is laying dormant on the defender's stomach.

Ingrid leans down, attaching her lips to Mapi’s chest, swirling her nipple around with her tongue and laving it with attention before she switches to her other breast. Mapi laid back on the bed at the sensation, her chest arching up into the Norwegian’s mouth as one of her hands came to tangle in Ingrid’s dark, thick hair. The brunette doesn’t direct her exactly, but when she pulls lightly on Ingrid’s hair she is rewarded with a moan that is pressed into her skin.

Ingrid kisses up between the valley of her breasts, over her collarbone and up over her neck, nipping at her neck tattoo before she moves to suck earnestly at Mapi’s throat. It takes all of her energy for the Spaniard to not writhe under the Norwegian’s careful ministrations, and Ingrid can’t help but smirk into her neck by how taut and tense Mapi’s body has become.

The midfielder finally moves until her nose is just to the outer edge of Mapi’s ear, her head turned in toward the brunette. ‘

“Have you ever considered María,” Ingrid drawls, her voice low and positively dripping with sex, “that I might need you just as much as you need me?”

The dark haired woman provides no further elaboration before she is off of Mapi, reaching for the bottle of lube and squirting some into her hand, gripping the dildo and coating it appropriately, making sure to press it back into the harness and toward Mapi’s body when she moves downward. It’s not a two way strap by any means, but the Spaniard can feel the pressure against her navel, and her hips buck up of their own volition at the slightest bit of friction.

With a smile, Ingrid wipes her hand on a clean towel they keep in their toy drawer before she slips back onto Mapi’s lap, her knees on either side of the Spaniard’s hips. She reaches down to grip the dildo, bringing it up so that she can sink onto it, very, very slowly.

It’s not a thick dildo, but Ingrid is still tight and it shows. Mapi remains laying but she opens her eyes to watch the show, as Ingrid presses further and further down with each pass, giving herself time to adjust.

When she finally does bottom out, she makes sure to move her hips in a circular motion, just like she knows that Mapi likes, just like she knows will drive the defender crazy.

If Mapi can tease, so can Ingrid.

And tease, she does.

The Norwegian is near pornographic in her display, moving up and down as her chest bounces, and she arches her back as a moan ripples out of her mouth.

Her hands have come first to run through her hair, and when she looks down Mapi is looking at her in exactly the way the midfielder wants her to, like some sort of ethereal person. Ingrid, at least to herself, might be far from it, but she would never lie and say that Mapi looking at her this way didn’t turn her on.

She can feel her wetness running down the inside of her thighs as she continues, picking up her pace as more groans and whines slip from her lips. She’s closer now, probably needs a little bit of stimulation on her clit to send her over the edge, but she wants to make it last a little bit longer, wants Mapi to look at her like this a little longer.

When the defender reaches up to palm at her chest Ingrid is quick to stop her, grasping her wrist as her pace stutters, the midfielder sitting down and shifting her hips side to side in slow motions.

“Uh-huh. Touching is only for Alexia, right? Just like you touched her?” Ingrid asks in a saccharinely sweet tone, and Mapi’s eyes widen in surprise as Ingrid lets go of her hand, reaching down to play with her own clit for a few seconds as she resumed her pace. It only took her a few more moments to crest over the edge, a broken cry leaving her lips as her body contracts, her chest pressing up as she slides the hand that had been on her clit up her body to palm at her own chest.

Meanwhile, the Spaniard has been left absolutely fuming under Ingrid, and she doesn’t even allow the Norwegian to fully come down from her orgasm before she’s flipping the two of them, the dark haired woman landing squarely on her back with Mapi over her.

The defender doesn’t even bother saying anything, she simply moves Ingrid’s legs to open her up before she begins to press into her, her eyes watching for any sense of true discomfort.

They had a safe word, and they’ve used it before, but Mapi is always still conscious to check. She knows they push the boundaries of this sort of thing on occasion, but when she looks at Ingrid she finds nothing but acceptance looking back at her.

The dark haired woman pants Mapi’s name as the brunette rolls her hips into the Norwegian’s over and over and over again, her pace quick and efficient.

Ingrid is losing her grip on reality slightly, completely overcome with pleasure as she looks up at the defender. She’s still sensitive from her last orgasm, and the pleasure is nearly all consuming when Mapi gets this focused. The Spaniard is bracing herself on either side of Ingrid’s chest, her arms flexed as she presses down toward Ingrid again and again and again, and the Norwegian can’t find it within herself to be of any complaint.

“You’re mine,” Mapi grunts out as her hips slap into Ingrid’s, and the Norwegian’s mouth opens in a deliciously unabashed moan as she nods insistently, too far gone to remember the little game they had been playing.

“I’m yours María, all yours,” Ingrid gasps as Mapi slams into her, and the defender can’t help the groan she lets out at hearing Ingrid say that she was hers. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow, a dark contrast against the white bedsheets, and her cheeks are flushed as she bites her lip, her chest positively heaving, stuttering with pleasure.

Mapi’s positive she’s never seen anything more gorgeous, and when Ingrid finally comes it’s in a silent cry, her abdominal muscles rippling as a guttural moan finally appears as she comes with a force. There are tears leaking out of her eyes as her body arches into the feeling, and Mapi is quick to pull out and work her middle finger and ring finger over Ingrid’s clit in tight circles, and just when Ingrid is sure that she can’t take anymore, the Spaniard slips her fingers into the midfielder.

Ingrid’s mouth opens as her chest arches, but Mapi is relentless.

The defender is completely insatiable, never wants to see anything but Ingrid come like this again and again.

“María, María, I–” Ingrid tries, but hearing the Norwegian moan her name is doing nothing but making the Spaniard work harder, her two fingers curling into the midfielder as her thumb teases her clit over and over and over again.

Ingrid comes without warning, a warm gush of liquid spilling over Mapi’s hand and out onto their bedsheets, as her body convulses, her lover's name slipping from her lips like a prayer as her third orgasm shudders through her.

Mapi works her through it gently, far more smug with herself than she had been when she had come inside the house initially. The ache between her own thighs has grown entirely unbearable, but all she cares about is Ingrid as she settles next to the Norwegian, whose eyes are still screwed tightly shut, her chest working overtime to get air to her lungs.

Aftershakes work their way through her body as Mapi places a hand delicately on her stomach, a soothing presence rather than an overly sexual one. It takes her a few minutes to come back to herself, but eventually the midfielders breath evened out, and she places her own hand over Mapi’s as she looks over at the Spaniard, who is propped up on one elbow looking at her.

“Better?” Mapi asks softly, in reference to the thing Ingrid had last said before she had started fucking herself on the strap. Ingrid swallows thickly as she takes Mapi in, how thready and tight her body appears, the way her legs are crossed even as she lays in bed, all of the hallmark signs that her girlfriend needs to get off.

Ingrid knew this when she got into a relationship with the Spaniard. Mapi’s sex drive was on another planet, and the Norwegian loved it about her. She could go for hours and hours, and was completely bottomless not only in her desire, but also in her ability to give.

The Norwegian knew if she asked to stop that Mapi would easily agree, likely slipping off to the bathroom to get herself off once or twice before she returned to Ingrid, wrapping her arms around the Norwegian and letting her fall asleep on her chest.

But Ingrid, despite being blissed out currently, is more than happy to continue this. So she shakes her head, one eyebrow raising as she raked her eyes over the defender's bare figure.

“No,” Ingrid answered simply before she sat up, leaning over into the Spaniard’s space and pressing her down onto the bed with a hand on her sternum.

“Can’t have you going to bed with the feeling of your hands on her now, can I?” Ingrid teases, but it lacks most of the bite of earlier. Mapi only smirks back at her as the Norwegian returns to her chest once more. She’s more thorough in her attention this time around, less desperate for herself and more attuned to Mapi’s body. She flattens her tongue against the defender's nipple as she brings a hand up to pinch at the opposing nipple, smiling into the brunette’s chest as she whines at the feeling.

Ingrid kisses her way down Mapi’s abdomen, licking a line down her abs before she nips at the skin there playfully, enjoying the way that Mapi’s hips jump at the contact.

The Norwegian has to take a few minutes when she finally meets her destination to pull at the cinches of the strap, undoing it before she carefully slides it down Mapi’s legs, the brunette lifting her hips to help the Norwegian get it off.

Ingrid rids it of the green dildo before she sets it carefully to the side, well aware that she’ll be coming back for it shortly. But for now she turns back to her girlfriend, well aware of her current destination.

Mapi can’t help but spread her legs wider as Ingrid settles between her legs, looking up at the Spaniard once more before she lowers herself right toward where the defender wanted her.

“You sure you don’t want me to call Ale, ask her if she can send her little girlfriend back here to get you off instead of me?” Ingrid offers, so close to Mapi that she can feel the hot breath from her speaking, right where she needs the midfielder.

“God, no Ingrid, I just want you,” Mapi promises, trying her hardest not to squirm as she nods her head. Ingrid seems to be satisfied with that answer, and she leans down, bracing her hands on either of Mapi’s thighs as she licks through the defender.

The Spaniard lets out an ungodly noise as her hips jump into Ingrid’s mouth, and the Norwegian can’t help but moan at the taste of the defender, salty and wonderful and just as she remembers it, even after all this time.

Ingrid moves up to flick Mapi’s clit, first side to side and then up and down with her tongue as the brunette’s hands bunch in the sheets, grunting at the feeling of Ingrid’s soft tongue against her.

The Spaniard clenches her thighs around Ingrid’s head, pulling her in as she brings Mapi’s clit into her mouth earnestly, sucking hard as the defender bites back a scream.

Mapi struggles to keep her hips pinned to the bed, and when she arches for the third time the Norwegian slides her hand up to press it over the base of the defender’s navel, keeping her hips trapped down to the bed sheets.

Once she is assured that the defender won’t move, the midfielder dives back in, slipping her tongue into the wet heat between the defender's thigh, letting the slick coat her lips and chin as she pressed further and further into the brunette.

Ingrid wasn’t trying to tease, she was far past that at this point, and she smiled when she felt the familiar tightening of Mapi’s abdomen, still working herself against the defender as she slipped two fingers into the Spaniard, curling them quickly and effectively.

Mapi cried out, gasping Ingrid’s name as she came with the Norwegian’s finger buried deep within her, her tongue working her clit over in circles as she came down from her high. She sucked in air in a greedy fashion, only realizing once she opened her eyes that Ingrid wasn’t on the bed with her anymore, but rather standing next to her, currently getting herself adjusted to the strap.

Mapi’s eyes widened in surprise before her pupils dilated, the thought of Ingrid fucking into her a more than welcome thought. The dark haired woman had attached Mapi’s favorite toy to the strap, the red one with ridges, and just the sight of it practically has the Spaniard drooling in want.

“All fours,” Ingrid instructs, and the defender is quick to pop up and settle just as Ingrid had told her. One look at the wetness between the brunette’s thighs is enough for the midfielder to know that she probably doesn’t need any sort of lube, but she does it regardless, not wanting Mapi to be uncomfortable.

Mapi has settled herself on the edge of the bed, and Ingrid walks right over to her and places her dominant hand on the small of the Spaniard’s back. She runs her hand over the tattoos she finds there, the cross, the lion, the two sphynx’s, the lotus flower at the base of her neck.

She runs her hand down the defenders spine, trailing it with just one finger and smiling at the way that Mapi shivered under her before she palmed at the Spaniard’s ass appreciatively before she finally returned to exactly where Mapi wanted her.

Ingrid eases the strap into Mapi slowly, allowing her time to adjust to it as she moves in and out of her shallowly. It didn’t take long for the Spaniard to adjust, arching her chest into the ground and throwing her head back as she pressed back into Ingrid.

The Norwegian grips at Mapi’s hip for security, beginning to set a slow rhythm of pumping into the defender. But Mapi wants more, and faster, and she reaches around with one hand to grasp at the midfielders thigh, encouraging Ingrid to go faster.

“Please, more,” Mapi practically begs, and Ingrid smirks at the desperation in her tone but she obliges all the same, beginning to move faster and faster.

The brunette lets out a ragged sigh at the feeling, her head still thrown back as her hips press up. The Spaniard drops down onto her elbows, changing the angle and releasing a groan at the feeling as Ingrid continued, her pace quickening. She’s reaching the perfect spot, and it only continues with her next movement.

The Norwegian reaches forward with one hand to toy with the defender's clit, knowing that Mapi was close, and knowing that this was going to be a good orgasm. The muscles of the brunette’s back were rippling as her chest contracted and spasmed, and her breathing wasn’t so much breathing as it was raspy moans.

Mapi was tightening around the strap, making it hard for Ingrid to move even as she continued to pump in and out of the Spaniard, her hand working tirelessly over the defender's clit.

Mapi can’t even stop the whines to warn Ingrid that she is going to come, not that she needed to. Ingrid could tell, and she chased it, pressing faster and harder into the Spaniard as the coil inside Mapi snapped, sending her crashing over the edge violently as her body spasms and contracts.

There is stillness in the bed for a moment, the brunette suspended in pleasure before her entire body begins to shake with the force of her orgasm, Ingrid’s name falling from her mouth in a breathy moan, reverent as her entire body relaxes into the mattress, her hips still up in the air, Ingrid still completely inside of her.

The dark haired woman leans forward to press a line of open mouthed kisses to the defenders spine softly, allowing her to come down from her orgasm slowly before she slipped out of her, stepping out of the strap and discarding it to the side before she made for the bathroom briskly.

Mapi is still laying on the bed when Ingrid returns, brandishing a wet washcloth that she uses to clean first the defender, and then herself before she discards it back in the bathroom. By the time she manages to get back to bed the defender is settled against the pillows, her chest and face flushed but alert, and she gestures for Ingrid to join her, something the Norwegian happily does.

Ingrid curls into Mapi’s side as she always does, tilting her head up to ghost her nose over the skin of the brunette’s throat before she presses a featherlight kiss to her jaw, the softness a juxtaposition to the frantic yet deliberate sex they had just finished having.

But this was one of the things Mapi loved about Ingrid, her ability to be just as sweet as she was sexy, to do those kinds of things in the bed before they curled into one another, their adoration just as prominent as their lust was. It was the first time that Mapi has felt that kind of balance with someone, and now she craves it almost as much as the actual sex itself sometimes.

“You know,” Ingrid murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper but still audible nonetheless. “You don’t need to hump on one of our teammates to get me to fuck you, you know that right?”

Her tone is gentle, forgiving and understanding in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. When Mapi doesn’t say anything, she continues.

“I missed you just as much as you did me, I promise. We don’t need to let it get this bad, I just need you to talk to me. I had no idea how you were feeling,” Ingrid admits, because the fact was that she was relatively unaware of exactly how Mapi had been feeling, and she hates that. Maria is her favorite person, and she always wants to know what she is feeling or what she is concerned about or needed.

Mapi sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of Ingrid’s hair before she wrapped her arm tighter around the Norwegian, more protective and secure.

“I know, you are right. In the future I will be more honest and try to communicate with you more about what I need and when,” Mapi vows, and there is silence for a few moments before she smirks, letting out a huff of a laugh before she speaks once more.

“It was pretty nice to rile you up and get you all jealous like that, though, that was hot,” Mapi admits, and realizes as soon as she’s said it that it’s a mistake.

“Really María? Well…I guess two can play at that game!” “Wait, no I didn’t – what?!”

#woso imagine #mapi leon x ingrid engen #mapi leon #ingrid engen #alexia putellas x reader (sort of?)#alexia putellas

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tiredofthehumanlife · 1 month ago

Text

Woodpecker? More like I wood slob on that pecker

Part one

Barbie dolls: rosekiller x gn! Reader

Word : 3.8k

Summary: you guys bang in the woods after making your relationship official

Warnings: you like bones, semi public sex, sex outside, Evan draws Barty's blood with syringe bc of this post you don't watch tho bc you don't like needles, you give Barty head, Evan is kinda mean to Barty but alas tis the crumbling of the sugary bread circle, Barty is blindfolded, food play with honey, yk I had to eat a spoon of honey for this fucking fic, also I started writing this in the summer but I missed fall so I wrote it with like the senses of fall and now it's just in time for kinktober so yay!, Evan likes sticking his fingers in ppl's mouths, also only Barty finishes again stg I don't mean to do this, Evan slaps Barty's hip once, you bite Barty once, you're more soft dom while Evan is more mean Dom and Barty is a pussy sub I said sub,you don't like Evan putting his hand on the back of your head, Barty bites Evan and Evan is like 🤭, Barty get degraded and slightly restrained, there is like two+ thousand more of this that I decided not to include bc I couldn't finish it depression and all that jazz, lil bit of dumbification yk the word I'm trying to make, you swallow, yeah

After your night in Evan’s bed, you three were trapped in some form of limbo. You were stuck between dating and just being friends that also happened to have hooked up. Granted your night was a little more adventurous than your average hookup, but the heart scar you left on Barty’s hip still peaked out when he stretched. You obviously still talked to them but it felt like there was an awkward unclear air between you three. If you were ever left alone by your friends you just looked around the room as you sat in silence.

So after weeks of breathing in the awkward pollution in the air, Evan and Barty told you to meet them near the Black Lake. You thought it was a little odd but you assumed they’d use this as an oppurtunnity to clear up the relationnship confusion.

The sun was slowly slipping down, you still had daylight to kill but it wouldn’t be much longer until sunset. Curfew had recently been pushed back by an hour or two for older students, meaning people could still wander the grounds at this time and that you and your not-boyfriends-boyfriends weren’t breaking any rules. As you approached the tree they set you saw the aforementioned not-boyfriends-boyfriends leaning against the bark. Barty was staring up at the branches above them, the top of his head pressed to the tree. Evan had his arms crossed and stared at the ground, his chin inching towards his chest.

You stomped your feet a little harder on the dead leaves to announce your arrival. They both looked up or in Barty’s case down, smiling at you. You returned the look, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Evan motioned for you to come closer.

“We have something to show you,” Evan whispered.

“Is it…a million dollars?” Barty groaned at your poor attempt to make a joke.

“No,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. Barty moved behind you, covering your eyes with his hands. You lightly rested your fingers over his. You dragged your feet a little more. Evan pulled you forward by the fabric of your shirt, Barty’s feet shuffling akwardly behind you. Eventually, you felt Evan drop his hold and Barty’s fingers move from your eyes. You glanced around trying to catch up with what you were looking at.

You were surrounded mostly by trees, the Black Lake on one side and trees on the other three. The ground was covered in fallen leaves. In front of you were what appeared to be bones in the air. You slowly stepped through them, wanting a closer look. There was more than there should be, to be perfectly honest. You recognized ribs and a few that could possibly be phalenges. You tapped one with your finger, watching as it swung back aand forth on its clear string. You followed the sting, staring up at the tree above you. You looked back down at the large collection of bones slightly swaying in the air. When the one you tapped, knocked into its neighbor it reminded you of a hollow wood whindchime. You turned back looking at Evan and Barty awakwardly standing next to each other.

“They’re animal.” Evan clarified.

“Yeah, we couldn’t get human unfortunetly,” Barty muttered. You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t mind. You looked back at the bones, finding them pretty. The slipping sun gave them a lighting that made you want to paint them to keep the image forever. You smiled at the bones, glancing back at Evan and Barty. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a strung up skull. You rushed over, gently holding it in your palm. You stared into the empty eye sockets before turning and twisting it this way and that. You smiled at it. You looked over at Evan and Barty, snuggling the strung up animal skull to your chest.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.” You said, watching their shoulders relax. You looked back to the small skull, really hoping you could keep some of the bones.

“We wanted to ask you if you would be more than our friend,” Evan said.

“Not friends with benefits, I did that once. I want to like hold hands with you and do all the sappy shit.” Barty added, shoving his hands in his pockets. You hummed.

“Can I keep some of the bones?” You asked, feeling quite attached to the little skull in your hands. Evan and Barty shared a look before shrugging.

“Could we maybe make matching jewlery with some of them as our first couple arts and crafts night?” Barty raised an eyebrow, hoping you said yes. Evan nodded next to him.

“There are a few I feel a tad attached to,” Evan muttered.

”We absolutely can make matching jewelry. Also Evan you can have any of them except for the skull that I’m holding right now.” Barty pumped his fist in the air. Evan smiled at you, tilting his head to the side.

“How kind.” Evan moved towards you, kissing your cheek and resting his hand on your elbow. “There’s one more thing.” You hummed, turning your attention to him. Barty disappeared behind a tree before returning with a picnic basket. You looked back at Evan.

“It’s past dinner, Evan.” He nodded.

“Not that kind of picnic.” Evan helped Barty lay out the blanket he pulled out from the basket. After the blanket was laid out under the floating bones and over the crunching leaves, Evan returned to your side and Barty started to dig through the basket. Evan stood next to you, pressing his nose to your temple.

“I’m going to have Barty strip. I think you’d enjoy the presents in our basket but if you want out, now's the time.” Evan whispered, his breath warming the side of your face. You watched Barty digging through the basket, wondering what on earth he was looking for. You didn’t know what was hiding in the little woven basket but knowing of their shoebox you couldn’t ignore the shiver of excitement that tiptoed down your spine. You felt a grin grow on your face. You turned your head, millimeters from Evan’s. He gave you a light smile, nodding.

“Yeah?” Evan asked. You nodded, leaning closer to him.

“Yeah.” Evan closed the gap between you two, pulling you closer by your shirt. You heard Barty make a dissaproving sound.

“Uh, guys. What the hell? You know I’m the one who came up with the bones idea, I should be getting kissed first.” Evan let out a huff through his nose, puffing air on your cheek. He pulled back just enough to talk, keeping his eyes closed.

“Don’t be a brat, Barty. Go ahead and strip for us, love.” You heard Barty groan, anoyed at Evan’s words. You heard shuffiling as Barty seemed to follow Evan’s orders. Evan met your lips again. Your hands gripped onto his forearms as his tongue slipped past your lips.

“Totally unjust,” Barty muttered. You heard leaves crunching under his movements. Evan’s lips twitched against yours. Evan fully pulled back, letting you catch your breath. You glanced over at Barty to find him stark naked and lying on his back on top of the blanket. You hummed. Evan glanced back at you, leading you towards the blanket by your hand. You sank to your knees next to Barty’s side. You caressed his cheek.

“Hello, pretty boy. How are things?” He hummed.

“Cold.” You gave him a pitying whine. You glanced up at Evan to find him holding up a syringe and a rubber strip.

“Oh fuck that, I don’t do needles.” You said, sitting back on your heels. Evan pouted at you.

“Don’t look, I’ll tell you when I’m done,” Evan said. Barty was grinnign up at you, his legs bouncing with excitement. You turned around, looking at the oranges and pinks painting the sky with the setting sun. You heard Barty squeeling, wondering what Evan was doing to him back there. Eventually, within a few minutes, Evan called to you. You turned bacck around. Barty had a bandaid slapped over his inner elbow and his eyes looked droopier.

“What’d you do?” You asked, pushing Barty’s hair back from his forehead. Evan dropped the syringe into the basket.

“Drew his blood,” Evan said with a slight smile on his lips. He paused when he noticed your confusion. “It makes him a little delirious. It’s okay, we’ve perfected this, he’ll be fine.” You nodded, looking down at Barty’s dopey smile. You glanced back at the horizon, noticing someone on the other side of the Black Lake, throwing rocks in. You could barely make anything out about them but you worried they’d be able to notice the naked Barty-sized blob.

“Evan,” He hummed, digging through the basket again. “Someone could see us.” Evan nodded at you.

“That’s entirely the point,” Evan said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Right, no I knew that.” You looked down at Barty, knocking his cheek with your knuckle. He hummed, tilting his head towards you. Evan pulled out a strip of black fabric. Evan reached over and tapped Barty on the back of his head. Barty lifted his head, craning his neck up in a position that didn’t look comfortable. Evan wrapped the fabric, which you now realised was infact a blindfold, around Barty’s head. He tied it on the back of Barty’s head, avoiding his hair. Barty dropped his head back when Evan’s hands went back to the basket. You noticed Barty tilting his head from side to side, adapting to the loss of his sight. You leaned down to softly kiss him. Barty hummed, pushing his head further up towards you. You pulled back, ignoring Barty’s whine.

You looked up at Evan to see him holding a bottle of honey and staring at you very seriously. He opened the bottle and held it over Barty’s exposed chest, without breaking eye contact. You raised an eyebrow when he squeezed the bottle, letting the honey drip down onto Barty. His eyes unwavered from yours. Evan looked away from you, dipping his pointer and middle finger in the heap of honey above Barty’s belly button. Evan pushed his fingers past Barty’s lips. Barty’s cheeks hollowed. You glanced at Evan, watching his eyes flutter for a second. Evan pulled his fingers out of Barty’s mouth, dragging them down Barty’s chin. Barty’s tonuge shot out, brushing against his chin. Evan dipped his fingers back into the honey before holding them out in your direction.

You leaned forward, resting your hands on Barty’s stomach for your balance, You opened your mouth letting Evan press his fingers against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around them, swiping your tongue around the pads of his fingers. Evan stared at you, reaching out with his other hand to grip your chin. You finished cleaning his fingers, opening your mouth. He pulled his fingers away, leaning forward to lightly peck your lips.

“Bee,” Barty hummed in response, jerking his head in Evan’s direction. “We’re going to lick the honey off you and I want you to guess who is where. If you use your beautiful brain and get it right four times in a row, we might reward you. Okay?” Evan asked. He used his mocking tone that made you glad you weren’t Barty at the moment. Barty's head bobbed.

“I can do it, Rosie, I can. Promise.” Barty said, nodding his head aggressively. Evan leaned down to Barty’s stomach, lapping at the honey there. Barty whispered Evan’s name. Evan hummed approvingly as he pulled back, leaving Barty’s skin clean. Evan handed you the bottle of honey. You leaned over to Evan’s side without touching Barty. You squeezed out a line of honey that traveled under his pec before reaching up toward his sternum. You quietly handed the bottle back to Evan. You leaned down, mimicking Evan’s tongue movments on Barty’s sternum. Barty waited for a second, thinking before whispering your name. You pulled back, surprised he got it.

Evan moved to the side of Barty’s chest as you pulled Barty’s nipple on his other side into your mouth. You noticed Barty’s bare hips bucking up into the cold night air. You pinched his side when he didn’t guess fast enough. Barty guessed wrong, making Evan pull back and smack his lips dissaprovingly. Barty whined in response.

Barty kept guessing and guessing and guessing. He’d get so close to finally having someone touch his leaking cock but then he’d guess wrong on the fourth one and have to start over. You were honestly getting tired of the flowery taste of honey in your mouth by the time he finally got it, not without plenty of whining. Evan closed the honey setting it behind the basket. Barty jerked his head in your direction.

“Did I get it? No?” Barty mumbled, pointing his head towards Evan. Evan ignored his question, instead swiping his tongue up Barty's length. Barty moaned, jerking at the touch.

“I think you got it right, Barty.” You said, reaching out to lightly pinch Barty's cheek. Evan started to take more of Barty's cock into his mouth. You watched in fascination, not horniness as Evan started moving his hand and mouth in tandem up and down, along Barty. You glanced at Barty's face, finding him digging his teeth into his bottom lip.

You reached out and pushed his chin down, letting his mouth fall open and his moans slip out. You decided to help Evan reward Barty for being such a smart boy. You slipped your hand between Barty's legs, staying out of Evan's way. You played with Barty's balls while Evan kept his warm mouth around him. You kept one hand between Barty's legs as you swirled your tongue around one of his nipples. Barty jerked his hips up. You heard Evan choke and a resounding slap followed. You glanced back at Evan to find a red mark on Barty's hip, right above the little heart.

You trailed gentle kisses down to the red mark, lightly kissing up the red lines from Evan's fingers. Barty whimpered above you both. You pulled back to find Evan staring at you while his saliva made Barty's erection glimmer in the poor lighting.

You ignored him, silently hoping you hadn't pissed him off. You moved up to Barty's face, bringing him into a kiss. You swallowed his moans. His touch whispered over your forearm. You weren't exactly used to him using his hands at a time like this, last time his hands were bound above his head. You found his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers. You pulled back, finding Evan's eyes again. He closed them, putting all his attention on Barty's cock again.

You moved to Barty's neck, pulling some of the skin there between your lips. You felt Barty's moans vibrate against your lips. You kissed down to his hip, keeping your hand busy between his legs. You pulled his scarred skin into your mouth, running your tongue over Evan's initials. You stopped when you knew that area would be purple for the upcoming days. You watched Evan hollow his cheeks, making Barty push his head back. You hoped that the person throwing rocks had gone inside by now, really only wanting you and Evan to hear your boyfriend's moans.

Evan pulled back to swirl his tongue around Barty's tip, before quickening his pace. Barty arched his back, his hips running away from Evan. You removed your hand from Barty's balls, instead opting to hold his hips down. Barty seemed to enjoy that, a small smile twitching on his lips. You bit his side in a reprimanding manner. Evan looked like he tried to smile at you but it's harder with his mouth full. You tapped Evan's cheek.

Evan pulled back from Barty, wiping at the saliva on his chin. Barty whined, throwing his arms out to his sides in frustration. You and Evan swapped places. Evan hummed disapprovingly, making Barty pout. You gently kissed along Barty's, now wet, dick. Barty sighed, happy to have anybody’s mouth near his cock.

Barty was starting to take notice of the differences between the way you and Evan treated him during sex. Evan was always a little rough around the edges, pushing and prodding to get what he wanted, mocking Barty's moans and calling him mean names.

You felt softer, kissing at the red marks from Evan, cooing at him in sympathy, telling him he was good, taking your time to get Barty off. He was enjoying the balance and whiplash he got from it.

You were gently gliding your tongue over his tip. Barty dropped his elbow over his eyes, not that it would do anything he was still blindfolded. Evan started nibbling at Barty's side. You parted your lips over Barty's cock head, tracing over his slit with your pointed tongue.

Barty hummed. You slowly pushed him further past your lips in response. You followed the bottom of his dick with your tongue, moving back up. You let one of your hands slip back to his balls while the other followed your mouth. Evan rested his hand on the back of your head. You furrowed your eyebrows glaring up at him. Evan raised an eyebrow at you in a way that reminded you of when Barty would try to steal off Evan’s plate. Evan pressed his lips together, dissaprovingly. Your hand left Barty’s balls, coming up to swat Evan’s hand away. Evan sucked his teeth, his lips forming into a snarl. You glared at him before closing your eyes and keeping your focus on Barty.

You swirled your tongue around Barty’s sensitive head, before fully enveloping him with your mouth. You kept the pace of your head in tandem with Barty’s breathing. You peeked open an eye to find Evan tweaking both of Barty’s nipples and whispering in his ear. You doubted he was saying anything nice. Barty enjoyed it though, knocking his head into Evan’s shoulder. When you quickened your pace, Barty’s lips parted. Barty sank his teeth into the fabric of Evan’s shirt, biting down on his shoulder. You opened both your eyes when you heard Evan moan.

Within your experience, you’ve heard Evan moan much less than Barty. Barty seemed to moan with just a few insults. You wanted Barty to bite Evan more so he’d squirm in response. You moved your tongue in more complicated patterns on Barty’s soft skin. Barty’s chest jerked towards Evan. Evan seemed disappointed, quickly traveling his hands around the picnic blanket to find Barty’s wrists. Evan held Barty’s hands together, pressing them towards his heart. Barty didn’t seem upset with being restrained as long as he got to touch Evan.

Barty removed his mouth from Evan's shoulder. Barty rested his cheek on it instead, his black blindfold pointed up at his face. Evan hummed, pressing his nose against Barty’s cheekbone.

“Are they treating you well? Hm, needy boy?” Evan whispered, with a mocking tone. Barty whined, squirming and twisting his wrists in Evan’s hold. Evan furrowed his eyebrows, tapping his finger against Barty's hand.

“Answer me, slut. Come on, Barty. I know you can, you and that pretty brain of yours, hm?” Barty whimpered, pressing his face into Evan’s chest.

“ ‘s good. Feels nice, good. It’s good, Rosie.” Barty rubbed his face against Evan’s shirt. Evan sighed dissaprovingly.

“176 IQ and all you can come up with is ‘it’s good. Feels nice’? Wow, you really are just a dumb whore aren’t you?” Evan smacked his lips, an unsettiling grin spreading across his face. Barty seemed to really like that comment, his hips jutting up. He made you cough around his cock. You let your teeth scrape his length for just a second, enough to reprimand him. Barty whined, trying to seek comfort in Evan only to find him tightening his hold on Barty’s wrists.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Oh you’re a filthy little slut, aren’t you? You wanna be called stupid, hm?” EVan whispered into Barty’s ear. Though it wasn’t quiet, you heard all of it. You imgined Barty would’ve rolled his eyes. Evan moved both of Barty’s wrists into one hand. Evan slipped two fingers of his other hand past Barty’s lips.

“You’re too loud. Just never shut your fucking mouth do you?” Barty whined around Evan’s fingers. You moved your mouth faster. Barty’s eybrows furrowed over the blindfold, his mouth parting over Evan’s fingers. Evan was pressing down on Barty’s tongue. As you hollowed your cheeks, Barty moaned. Though it was messy, Evan’s fingers were in the way.

With a particularly mean comment from Evan, a particularly good massage of Barty’s balls from your hand, and a particularly good swipe of your tongue, Barty was squealing and cumming down your throat. You swallowed, though a little slipped out the corner of your mouth.

You slowly and gently pulled away, not wanting to overstimulate Barty yet. Evan released Barty’s wrist, moving to hold Barty against his chest. Evan gently swept some of Barty’s sweaty hair away from his temples, letting Barty catch his breath. You sat next to Evan, pulling Barty’s legs into your lap. Evan looked over at you.

Evan pulled his hand away from Barty’s hair, coming up to wipe the corner of your mouth. You looked at him questioning. Evan nudged your nose with his, giving you a gentle smile.

“You did so well.” He muttered, not really wanting poor Barty to overhear. You felt your face warm a little, feeling a tad like you were put on the spot.

“Yeah?” Evan nodded, his forehead almost hitting yours.

“Mm hm.” You smiled brightly, lurching forward to kiss Evan. He returned the fever, moving his lips with yours. You tugged him closer by the back of his neck, letting the taste of Barty flood his mouth too. Evan let out a breath through his nose in response, his chest settiling down. You felt Barty stir from his post orgasm haziness. You pulled back to look at your poor boyfriend, shivering a little from the cold. Evan gently knocked Barty’s jaw with his finger.

“Do you want the blindfold off, Baby?” You whisperd to Barty, running a soothing hand up and down his leg. Barty’s head bobbed up and down. Evan gently slid the blindfold off, throwing it in the general direction of the basket. Barty’s eyes squinted from the abrupt addition of light. Evan ran a soothing hand along Barty’s arm. Barty’s eyes adjusted, and a small smile grew on his face as he looked up at Evan. He moved his focus over to you. Barty sat up out of Evan’s hands. Barty grinned at you, moving forward to press his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re so amzing.” His words pressed their backs against each other, flowing together. You shrugged.

“It’s not that crazy.” You said while cupping his cheeks. Evan joined you two on your side, pulling his fingers through Barty’s hair. You both whispered praises into Barty’s cheeks, pecking his skin all over the place. After your crafting date, you had lovely matching necklaces and a lovely wind chime.

Was the title good or no I feel like it wasn't my best

#rosekiller #rosekiller x reader #poly!rosekiller #barty crouch junior #barty jr #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x reader #barty x evan #barty crouch x evan rosier #evan rosier x reader #evan rosier #kinktober #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fic

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nofingjustaninchident · 8 months ago

Note

Hi, I just saw your Jason Grace general headcanons and I was wondering, can you do a Jason Grace boyfriend headcanons this time?

Jason Grace boyfriend hcs

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace boyfriend material

warnings: f1 references, one direction references, other than that just mushy gushy fluff

a/n: yk what? i absolutely hate writing hcs. i prefer one thousand times to write fics. the problem is, i don’t have creativity enough to write a fic, and neither do i have time. when i have inspiration, im usually in class and i hate writing fics in my notebook but whatever. i hope you enjoy?? lmk!!

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

He. Is. The cutest boyfriend ever. In the whole world.

He’s literally the sweetest person

With you? My gods

My boy’s whipped.

He’d do absolutely anything you asked him to do, and it’s kinda cute

But also kinda scary cause he’d kill someone if you asked him to

He memorized all of your favorite artists’ songs so you can talk about that together

Frequent dates!!

Lots of gifts in absolutely random occasions

At the beginning of, he was so touch starved it was almost pitiful

But he started to loosen up the more you got into the relationship

Now he just can’t keep his hands away from you, doesn’t matter how

Interlocking pinkies or hands? Check. Hugging you from behind if you’re talking to someone? As long as you don’t get uncomfortable.

He’s just super clingy, and it’s the cutest thing ever.

He looks just like a lost puppy.

He just needs a little bit of love

Cause it’s all too much for little Jason Grace

F1 joke sorry i can’t help myself

ANYWAYS

Back to my man

He loves when you braid his hair or just spend time with you in general.

He always seems to know when you’re down

Cause he usually does know

And when you’re with your friends and he notices you’re not feeling well

He gives an excuse and pulls you with him

When you get to his cabin he just cradles you into his chest and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

He’s a great listener, and his favorite part of the day is when he gets to come home and listen to you

If you’re not the talker type, he can talk for you

He just wants you to feel comfortable around him, always.

He feels so bad when you’re mad at him or he knows he did something that probably hurt you

Even if it didn’t, he’ll apologize for the next weeks

And some days you’re just cuddling together in a totally allowed sleepover (Aphrodite threatened Mr. D to let you sleep together, but that’s not the point), he’ll just sniffs in your hair and mumble soft ‘i’m sorry’s and ‘i love you’s into your head.

He’s just the cutest person in the world.

You know that song “In a world of boys he’s a gentleman”?

It’s him. Momma Taylor wrote it for him. I know, i was there. I was the pen.

Sometimes he just gets super clingy out of nowhere, and it’s super cute in your opinion

Even if he’s embarrassed of it later on.

If you have curly hair, he’ll ask Leo how to style your curls so he can help you

He also learns all your skincare steps so he can help you with it when you’re too tired to do it yourself

He loves when you just lay on his chest and falls asleep, he can keep reading and caressing you

He’s so in love with you it’s gross

You can bet your life that he has a picture of you in his wallet

And if demigods had phones, his wallpaper would be you & him

Oh, i just know he loves listening to one direction with you

I’m not gonna elaborate. He just does.

He’s a very smart man, so he studies a lot

And he absolutely loves when you’re there with him

But in the end he doesn’t study, he just admires you as you scrunch your nose and pouts, trying to understand something.

He loves loves LOVES going on double dates, like you & him and will & nico. It’s like his two favorite people in the world and Will as a bonus

Hehehe sorry he loves Will too

But not as much as he loves you and his younger brother Nico

If you have younger siblings in the mortal side, he’s always asking to go to your house cause he LOVES kids

He just loves to take care of them

And deep down he’s also a little bit scared that maybe he’ll not live enough to have his own

But sometimes, in the middle of the night (when the wolves come down) he finds himself staring at the ceiling and imagining how you and his kids would look like

Would they have your hair and his eyes? Maybe your freckles and his personality?

He just likes to imagine how would it be like, your family

For last, your mortal parent immediately likes him. Like, sure, there’s that whole “if-you-hurt-my-daughter” blah blah blah

BUT

they know that he’s super protective

But he’s a great boyfriend.

And if you’re happy, they’re happy too.

And Jason fits in that list.

a/n pt2: I. MADE. IT. LONG. AND I CANT BELIEVE IT!! but look, i promise that im writing a real thing, it’s just that im drowning in homework and my mom is gonna give birth soon and. i feel like jason rn tbh

#postcards from leah #jason grace #heroes of olympus #jason grace x reader #pjo hoo toa #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #if jason grace has 1 fan it is me if he has 0 fans i am dead.#jason grace supremacy #in jason we believe

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azrakaban · 6 months ago

Text

Distractions - Blaise Zabini

A/N: Hiii! I'm not dead, as it turn out, just procrastinating and forgetting things because yk.. stress. Anyway, lil life update, I've reshuffled my life entirely, and had a lot of both boy and girl drama happen so literally my mind is all over the place! My grades are doing great though which is shocking given that I've been zoning out thinking of potential plotlines sm... I've been thinking of writing another fic, possibly a marvel one? Lemme know if that's something ya'll want to see <333

Request by ilovegilmoregurlsss , sorry it took so long lovely xx

Summary: Blaise realises that endless pining isn't going to get you to go out with him. More of a lil drabble then entire oneshot, but I'm sleep deprived and babysitting my brother so suck it up buttercups <3

Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, bad spelling, idiots in love <3333

...

"Mars' moons are Phobos and Deimos, not Ganymede and Callisto. Those two are Jupiters." Blaise says, a little bluntly, peering over your work with a tired smile. You rolled your eyes and crossed them out, him looking slightly apologetic.

"I'm sorry. I can't remember a thing, Blaise. There's so many distractions!" You gestured around the entirely distraction free library, groaning before looking down at the parchment, which wasn't filling with words magically, much to your disappointment.

"Come on yn. You can do this. You only need twenty more words and then you're done.The bare minimum, complete in a mere..." He checked his watch and frowned. "Three hours? For a two thousand word essay? Merlin we've been here too long..." He trailed off, looking down at you. You had completely passed out on his shoulder, head coming to rest in the crook of his neck.

He exhaled slowly, trying not to disturb you. Had it been anyone else, he might have pushed them away, or been uncomfortable but... it was you. It felt comforting, warm... and just right. And that scared him even more than having a stranger fall asleep on him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eyes flickering from the snow falling outside the castle, to your sleeping form on his shoulder. Around midnight, Draco and Lorenzo came looking for him, finding him perfectly content with you.

The two of them walked forwards, opening their mouths to speak before Blaise fixed them both with a glare and waved them away, indicating your current state. They caught on quickly, both side-eyeing each other and smirking at him.

Lorenzo made a motion like stringing a bow, and then firing it, as Draco clutched at his heart, mocking being hit and falling to the floor. He then kneeled infront of Enzo, practically making heart eyes in his state of drama.

Blaise rolled his eyes and repeated his shooing motion, watching them walk away before sighing. He knew he had to move you - it couldn't be comfortable, sleeping upright. He almost felt guilty for keeping you there for so long. He looked down at your parchment and sighed. So close.

Gently, so as not to wake you, he leaned forward and finished off your essay, careful to mimick your handwriting.

You stirred for a second, before wriggling into a more comfortable position. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. Now the hard part. Getting you to bed without waking you up.

He gently shifted his position, letting your head fall onto his chest, He slipped his arm under your knees, and the other around your back, carrying you bridal style. You took kindly to this change in position, smiling softly in your sleep. Blaise smiled down at you, then caught himself and frowned. Smiling? At you?

Sure, you were his best friend, and he treasured you, but that didn't mean he wanted more did it? Surely not. That just didn't make sense. You were his best friend. His funny, amazing, creative, quirky, gorgeous, beautiful best frie- oh fuck.

Blaise groaned out loud at the realisation, first at how blindingly obvious it had been, and then second in intense worry. Was he feeling attraction, just pure teenage feelings? Maybe. But then he remembered. He knew everything about you. He noticed every little thing about you. He stored these little tidbits of information away, but why? For when? People didn't do that if all they felt was attraction to someone. He remembered you telling him that earlier in the year, when the two of you had been silently shipping Astoria and Theodore.

You had organised a 'stake out' of Astoria and Theodore's third date, as Astoria had requested, and naturally, that meant he was coming too. He didn't remember how that date had gone. All he remembered was watching your face as you smiled, your eyes shining slightly as you watched your friend be happy.

He'd been watching you subconsiously for months now... how had it not occured to him? He loved you. But oh Godric, did you love him? Did you feel an ounce of what he felt for you? No, you couldn't that simply wasn't a possibility. And yet...

Who did you ask for help when you needed it? Him. Who's house did you stay at each summer? Granted, his mother loved you, and you loved her, but still! His house. Who did you go with to the yule ball? Him. And it hadn't been for lack of a date, quite a few boys had asked you. He remembered the discomfort he'd brushed aside when they each asked. But, in the end... you'd gone with him.

Maybe there was a slight chance. Just maybe. Unless he'd been imagining the way you'd looked at his lips a second too long during the ball. Wait...

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sack-?" Blaise said out liud, stopping in his tracks. He quickly went silent, realising he'd spoken aloud. He looked down to find you still sound asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief.

He had a feeling. Just a feeling, that you might feel the same. And he hoped that he wasn't wrong.

(time skip to the next morning)

YOUR POV:

You walked into the great hall, and were quickly accosted by your favourite person in the world, Cormac McLaggen. Yippee.

"y/n! Lovely weather isn't it? Those Cumulonimbus clouyds looking fabulous." He said with a smirk, trying to meet your eyes.

You stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him, giving a fake smile. "You're talking about Cumulonimbus clouds , Cormac, when I'm surprised you can tell your left from your right." You looked down at his hands and sighed. He had left and right tattooed on them. You disguised a laugh as a cough.

"What do you actually want?" You continued, biting your lip to keep from laughing. You noticed Blaise watching you from the Slytherin table, and made a mental note to go and join him in a minute.

"A chance. Look, I know that you Slytherins lost the Quidditch match, but I'm willing to put that aside and not bring it up so that you can feel better. I mean, it's not like I was surprised, you're a good chaser but just nowhere near my own skill level. Although I've only played against you once, I'll assume that it was your time of the month that made you play so badly." He bragged, puffing out his chest like an overconfident pigeon.

"The Lion The Witch and The Audacity Of This Bitch..." You said under your breath.

"Sorry what was that?" Cormac said, zoning back into your conversation.

"I said I was surprised we could even see the hoops, given that your ego is so big if it was solid it would cover everything in a two mile radius. Gryffindor only won because Potter is a good seeker and you have awesome Chasers." You were stood next to the Gryffindor table, and Ginny looked up at you with a smile, mouthing 'thank you. Sorry about him.'

You laughed and turned back to Cormac. "Anyway, McLaggen, you're not even Gryffindor chaser! Ron beat you! If it hadn't been for his injury, you wouldn't be playing. So why don't you just pack your ego into a trunk and mail it off to someone who thinks it's endearing that you won't brag over one win?" You retorted. Ginny and a few of her friends clapped you for a second before turning back to their food, one of them cough-yelling 'misogynist' at McLaggen. You looked back over at the Slyyherin table and noticed Blaise was gone. huh.

McLaggen didn't have a reply for that, just looking infuriated. "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I won't ask you out in future. You burst into mock tears, overdramatically pretending to cry. Cho turned around and stood up, pretending to console you.

"There there y/n, it's okay, it's not your fault his ego is choking you alive..." She said soothingly, laughing at the expression on his face. A few other girls joined in, pretending to be overcome by McLaggen's 'manly charm'. It went on for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall told you all to settle down, but there was a fiant smile on her face.

You sigh, looking upset as you meet his eyes. "You have the confidence of a much taller man, Cormac."

You fake sobbed one last time before hugging Cho and heading back over to the Slytherin table to sit with Pansy, leaving a speechless McLaggen far behind you.

Pansy smiled and pulled you down onto the bench, looking around to make sure that none of the Slytherin boys were listening to your conversation before taking your hands in hers and stating quite plainly "Blaise likes you."

You blinked a few times, processing her words before... "WHAT?"

Pansy laughed and Astoria leaned in. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Earlier, he wasn't listening to Draco at all, he was just watching you with McLaggen."

"Maybe he thought McLaggen was harrassing me!" You protested, trying to ignore the rising hope in the back of your mind.

"Sureeeee. Because when you think someone's harrassing your best friend you always say 'Do you think he's asking her out? What if she says yes? I don't care if she says yes, it's up to her, it's just... McLaggen is a dick, isn't he? Not just me who thinks that?'" Astoria imitates Blaise, giggling with Pansy.

You roll your eyes at the two of them, but decide to check on Blaise, to see if he's okay.

...

You had spent almost an hour looking for Blaise now. Thank god for Saturdays right? And finally found him. You could have sworn you'd checked his dorm, but maybe he'd moved. He was sat on his bed, looking at something.

You crept up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and startling him, causing him to shove whatever he was holding underneath his pillow.

He looked up, seeing it was you and exhaled slowly, before resuming a glare.

"What ya looking at?" you say gently, aware you scared him.

"Doesn't matter to you. Why don't you go get ready for your date with McLaggen?" He spits out, shuffling away from you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You heard me. I'm sure you two will get together, and live happily ever after and raise world champion quidditch players. Look, I'm happy for you, yn, just leave me alone okay?" He says, clearly rambling.

You frown. "I'm not going out with McLaggen. After you left the girls and I cussed him out pretty thoroughly. Told him he that the confidence of a much taller man. He didn't like that." you laugh softly to yourself as Blaise turns around, attempting to form normal words but just making weird shapes with his mouth.

You laugh and put a hand under his chin, closing his mouth. "You thought I was going to go out with him?"

Blaise grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand away from his jaw. "Looked like you wanted to to me." He didn't drop your wrist, surprisingly.

"Nuh uh. Got someone else on my mind." You say, shrugging.

He stiffens. "Who's that?" He asks, deadpan expression on his face.

You sigh. "Blaise, for a smart guy, sometimes you're incredibly dense."

You lean forward and kiss him, pulling back after a second to gauge his reaction.

Again, he's more frozen than Hermione in second year. Then, slowly, he reacts. He pulls you close by your wrist, letting your lips fall onto his again as he kisses you, holding you close. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Now I know why you've been failing charms." He says with a smirk.

You poke your tongue out at him. "Not my fault you're distracting."

He laughs. "So many distractions yn... and yet I was your favourite one."

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "You'll always be my favourite distraction."

...

A/N: SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I've had no inspo, but finally once I'm sleep deprived I can write. *sigh* Sorry it's so late, enjoy my first Blaise one shot <3

#blaise zabini #don't even ask #harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherins #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys fluff #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x y/n #fyp

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mandomaterial · 1 year ago

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I LOVE your Miguel x Reader fic so much! Can we please get another Miguel x Reader where they are complete opposites again, but she isn't use to seeing a scary/violent Miguel. So when she finally sees him like that she gets a little scared and Miguel has to reassure his little angel that he would never behave this way with her. Fluff please because i love your fluff fics!

OFC BBY! I changed it a little so that reader didn’t only see it but also experience it, yk? U’ll see :3 I hope you like it pookie!

Miguel scaring and accidentally hurting you

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You were on your way to visit your boyfriend of a few months at work, with a little Tupperware box of fresh cookies in hand, you knew that he was Spider-Man and you knew all about the spider-verse. You also knew that Miguel worked very hard to keep the society intact and that it put an immense strain on his mood and health.

He’d come home all grumpy and annoyed, just wanting to cuddle you to death, he wouldn’t even let you get up to make him some food or treats, so today you decided to bring him something to cheer him up. You’d made a variety of cookies, some frosted and others shaped like animals and stars, to some people it might seem like something from a kids birthday party where a trottle ran off with the sprinkles and went crazy with them but it was just how you liked to bake. You knew that some people thought you were weird for dressing in bright colours and having fun hairstyles, sometimes older people would whisper when you walked past them but you didn’t mind, to you the worst possible thing would be being called normal or plain. You didn’t let anyone stop you from buying or making the clothes you thought were cute and today you decided to show off the new skirt you made. You spent all of last week sitting at your desk with your sticker covered sewing machine, securing the fabric and hemming the edges.

It was truly adorable and you loved how it framed your butt and thighs! You matched it with the off white cashmere sweater that Miguel gifted you after only two moths of dating. He knew that you liked cute things so he had little bows added to the sleeves and it warmed your heart every time you thought of his attentiveness. You packed the cookies into a little shoulder bag and set off.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the main office and there you almost crashed into Jessica who you always enjoyed having a little chat with, you always asked how her baby was and if everything was going as planned at HQ, but today she decided to give you a little warning, Miguel had been a little agitated and stressed today, because Gwen got stuck in a mess and brought back a Teenage boy who was never supposed to know about the Spider-verse and how said boy was causing a bit of trouble. You thought nothing much of it and continued looking for him.

Your first stop was his main office, to be honest it looked like the bat cave, with a floating platform that was his favourite. It always made you giggle when you compared Miguel to batman, but he wasn’t there, so you decided to just walk around and see if you’d find him, when you suddenly heard a loud bang. Instinctively you whipped around, running to a large window and what you saw shook you to your core.

It was thousands of spider people chasing after what seemed to be a small figure in a black suit, it was a sight that you’d never seen before, was everything alright? Was that an anomaly? Why were so many chasing it? Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you sprinted down the stairs to the ground floor to get a better look, but everything was moving so fast that you lost sight of them as that disappeared behind another building.

You rushed through the halls, trying to catch up with them and somehow you ended up in the room with the go-home machine, all while everyone was surrounding Miguel and the young boy who was in the midst of being “sent home” and Miguel had his talons dug into the electric walls of the capsule, almost tearing it apart while growling and yelling. You’d never seen him like this, as if he were a feral creature hunting its prey with cruel intent. Your body started shaking a little as you took a small step back, maybe this was a really bad time. In that moment the capsule fully closed itself, sending the teen home and leaving Miguel seething with rage, ready to demolish anything he got his hands on, when he suddenly noticed his wach showing signs of an anomaly or something that wasn’t supposed to be at headquarters standing only a couple meters behind him.

Without a second thought and with pure rage and will for distraction Miguel lunges backward, his vision blurry with fury as he sunk his claws into the floor, propelling himself closer and closer to his new victim. All the while you didn’t even have time to think, fear filled every fiber of your already tensed body, he made the decision in split-seconds, not even realizing that it was you, his partner, as he rushed closer to you. You started stumbling back, screaming his name, but nothing helped clear his mind. Miguel stretched out his right arm, talons out as far as they could go, ready to tear you to shreds.

His usually gentle fingers wrapped themselves tightly around your neck, nicking you and squeezing tight, you felt him almost crush your throat but that wasn’t the end of it. Miguel flexed his arm, lifting you up into the air and just as he was about slam you down with all his force, he had a moment of clarity, his heat almost stopped as he recognized your face, albeit it was contorted in ear and pain. He noticed how tight his grip on your neck was and how you were scratching at his hand for a single breath, as he cut off your air way. His eyes widernd, fear and regret washing over him. Instead of glamming you to the ground, he quickly let go of your neck and pressed you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his suit and he heard you cries. Your cries were pain filled and your voice hoarse as he tried to comfort you by rocking you back and forth gently. He knew that it was his fault. What had he done? What if you never wanted to see him again?

He did something he swore to never let happen. He hurt you. He made you fear him. Miguel commanded everyone to leave, so that the two of you could calm down and as soon as it was only the two of you, he collapsed to his knees. It was like your tears were never ending and your fingers weakly grabbed onto him, barely able to hold on as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry…” Miguel whispered, his voice cracking as he continued muttering “I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.. I didn’t mean t-to…” he whimpered, but it was like you didn’t hear it, way too caught up in the scenario that played out just minutes ago. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you were hyperventilating, not being able to calm your breathing. Minutes passed and Miguel was still rocking back and forth, as if comforting a crying child, the horrid scenes kept replaying in his mind and he didn’t know how to make it better.

Your cries slowly turned to whines and hiccups, you moved around in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position when he gently lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, he opened his mouth but said nothing for a few seconds until he finally whimpered “I love you, you know that, right?” He pulled you into a close hug, not even waiting for your response, he squeezed you as close to him as he could, his anger long gone. “P-please don’t leave me…” he continued, he sounded utterly broken and that only made you shed more tears, you didn’t want to be sad, you didn’t want him to be sad, this was just a stupid accident right? He didn’t mean it…

You nodded a little and tried to speak, but nothing audible came out, only whimpers and whines. Miguel pulled the two of you apart, gently placing his large hand onto the crown of your head, carefully lacing his fingers between your hair as he looked at your little form that was dwarfed by his own. “It was and accident… please forgive me…” he muttered as his eyebrows scrunched together in regret. You replied with a little nod, your lower lip still wobbling a little. Miguel caressed your hair a bit before moving lower to your neck, he pushed your hair back and revealed a couple red scratches going almost all the way around. He felt so ashamed that he’d hurt you, that he was the cause of your pain. Ge gently brushed his fingers over them and you let oust a little wince. He’d take you to the med bay right after this, he promised.

Only then did he notice what you were wearing, first he looked at the sweater. It was the one he had custom made for you, when he saw it in the store window he thought about how’d you look like a fluffy baby alpaca in it and he just had to get it for you. He touched the soft fabrics and slid his grand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with your slender ones. Next he noticed the skirt, ha hadn’t seen it in your closet or anywhere else?. Did you buy it? No it fits too well for that… you probably made it. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile cross his face. The room was almost silent so he tries to shift your attention to a different topic “Did you make this?” He gently rubbed the b fabric between two of his fingers.

You looked around quite confused for a moment until you found what he was talking about, you rubbed your eyes a little and gave him another nod “y-yea, i finished yesterday.” Your voice was barely audible and littered with hiccups.

“It’s cute” he replied, placing his hands on your hips and shifting your body so that you were sitting sideways on his lap with your head leaning on his pec. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled closer, almost purring. You liked sitting like this, on his lap and utterly surrounded by him, it made you feel small and soft, like a precious delicate possession of his.

You could feel how worried he was, it washed off him like waves and you wanted to make him feel better, so you cupped his jaw and whispered “I’m okay Miguel, you didn’t hurt me” as soon as he heard, you could almost physically hear the stones dropping from his heart and his spirit lifting. The two of you were definitely feeling better but there was still a bit left to talk about, so Miguel decided that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet but kept you in his arms, you rolled over a little and decided to play with his hair as he walked out of the now silent room. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the little short curls at the back of his neck, it was one of your favourite parts of his hair because it was so much more curly than the longer pieces.

Miguel felt your little fingers and could stop the lopsided smile that formed on his face, sure he still had work to do, but to be honest, for once in his life, he didn’t care. He’d do it tomorrow and surely get an ear full from Jessica.

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Once Miguel stepped through the doorway a long sigh left his chapped lips, he still felt quite bad about what happened today, but he knew that you’d forgiven him and that you weren’t upset. You fell asleep in the car, so he decided to be the good boyfriend he was and carry you up to his penthouse. You often slept over at his place because you liked the big windows and loved his comfy king sized bed. Normally you fell asleep earlier than him and once he got to bed, he’d find you in your cute pink jammies, laying starfish with one of your legs over the blanket and the pillows long thrown off the sides. He couldn’t help but snap a little picture, you were just too adorable.

So now he careful layer you down on the side you preferred to sleep on. He took off your socks and reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra and pull it off you so you wouldn’t wake up in pain, before covering you with his blanket. Once you were tucked in, he strode over to one of his cupboards in the bathroom and pulled out one of the first aid kits (he has multiple stocked) and pulled out a salve. He rummaged around further until he found your favourite bandaids, the ones with the cute shapes on them and walked back to his bedroom.

You were sleeping soundly as he sat down right next to you, careful not to dip the mattress too much, he gently stroked your hair back so that he could tend to the little wounds on your neck. Guilt shot through him again once they were revealed, t be honest they weren’t even that bad, but he knew how sensitive to violence you were and he knew that the scare was probably worse than the pain. Nevertheless he dipped his fingers in the salve and started softly rubbing it over the red marks and covered them with the bandaids after. After a few minutes he was satisfied and snuggled up to you, making you the little spoon, he wrapped his arms around your wast to pull you close. And just like that, all cuddled up, the two of you fell asleep, meeting again in your dreams.

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