#redhead writes a thing!

[upontherisers]

ok listen i just think dip from this prompt list is just peak song of the summer au … dealer’s choice but that one immediately jumped out at me 😇

you're right, this is peak song of the summer. again, million apologies for taking so long. this isn't quite the premise of the prompt but i got caught in mahalia's issues.

“I don’t wanna see your tits—”

“I do,” Curt says, waving his hand in front of Will’s face in case Mahalia’s under the impression that her tits aren’t welcome at the function.

“Thank you, Curtis,” she replies, and pulls her knees into her chest with a sly, raised brow. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, Veal. Last chance too, unless you’re really after that girl from Camp Taylor — what’s her name again? Daisy? Debbie?”

Will sniffs. “Her name is Dottie and I’m not doing this with you.”

“She has a boyfriend, y’know, that redhead who broke his elbow at flag football a few years ago. That’s your competition?”

Flicking his thumb at a crack in the wooden tabletop, Will tongues at a back molar and doesn’t look at Mahalia. She’s treading into dangerous territory and she’s doing it on purpose, but he hurt her feelings when he said what he said and she doesn’t know how not to make him pay for it. One squirm, that’s what she’s looking for — at the first sign that he regrets saying anything, she’ll back off.

She takes the silence to look around the table. Buck’s twirling a toothpick in the corner of his lip, Brady’s on his phone, and Curt’s scratching his neck, avoiding eye contact; Bucky’s the only one who doesn’t look away and he’s the only one who she wants to. Those eyes betraying the storm inside his still body, the angle of his jaw as he smacks on his gum like he’s determined to out-annoy their friends. She wants to flinch at him, to remind him that she doesn’t let people stare for this long unless they have a problem, but what good would that do?

All week, he’s taken her hits with nigh Catholic-levels of repentance, other cheek turned like he’s got the text open in front of him. He still won’t tell her why he was at St. Paul’s before he picked her up from Irving Medical or how long he was there, or if he prayed. For absolution or for me? she’d wanted to ask. Instead, she let Dr. Bacon pick the story out of her like pulling teeth and say all sorts of things about guilt and being the bigger person.

Bucky wouldn’t know regret if it bit him on the nose, but the other thing she’s trying out along with a newly prescribed worldview. Actions and words, that kind of stuff.

“You should come,” she says to Will, “and show the newbies your tricks.” He gets a lot of shit for cheerleading in college; it stops once you see him pick up two counselors at once.

His eyes narrow — he’s skeptical, she gets it — but she gives him a smile that’s mostly teeth and keeps her mouth shut. She still has other things to say to him, like I’m sorry I stopped calling back, this is me trying, and the Sisyphus comparison wasn’t really necessary, was it? but it doesn’t seem like the time. After a moment, he nods and now she can log onto her Zoom session with Dr. Bacon tomorrow and tell him all about her self-reflection skills and get a good grade in therapy. Just don’t ask how I’m sleeping.

Well, enough about her! “What about you, Egan? You comin’?”

“Is Hazel gonna be there?”

“Jack should beat your ass for that,” she says, and he nods in sober agreement as Buck chuffs with amusement and Curt marvels at the gall. 

“For what?” Cros asks as he plops a tray down at her elbow, Rosie sitting next to him.

Brady perks up from his slouch, tucking his phone and hands into the front pocket of his lifeguard hoodie. “It’s Penny Pond Night.”

Cros’ fork stops halfway to his mouth and sends grains of rice all over his plate. Rice with a fork, really?  “Tonight?”

“What’s tonight? asks Rosie.

Curt waves him off. “It’s a senior counselor thing.”

“We can still explain it to the man,” Buck says, and as Brady and Bucky answer Rosie’s questions — a few counselors from the otherside of the lake, a small party, a five minute walk, about nine o’clock, who knows, bro — Mahalia picks at her lunch. It’s lukewarm now and she’d be such an asshole to go into the kitchen for the microwave in the middle of service, but her appetite at present shrinks as she scrapes the wet breading off her chicken patty and nibbles at the meat. The watery ketchup does nothing to help.

Why does she have to work on everything at once? Why must it be leg and mind and hunger instead of first, second, third? That way, she can deal with the message from Bucky burning through her phone screen where it’s tucked against her thigh in her bike shorts without having to remember to take her meds with breakfast. It would be so nice to have a summer focused on food before she has to check-in about it with her shrink every week, and Bobbie might have a breakdown but Mahalia needs to heat this or it’s not getting eaten and—

A foot knocks hers under the table. As Brady rises, a bowl slides across the space his tray had previously occupied, coming to a stop next to Mahalia’s Powerade with a final push. It’s fruit, strawberries and green grapes unsullied by cantaloupe or — God forbid — honeydew. Bucky’s looking at her when she glances up from sorting out her remaining edible fries, and he tilts his head at the bowl. The foot knocks into hers again and she wants to tell him to cut it out, she wants to thank him.

Brady’s back soon enough with a brownie wrapped up for later, a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, and a plate with a steaming hot chicken patty, a slice of cheddar cheese, and a hamburger bun on the side, which he hands to her without breaking stride as he re-enters the conversation. Bucky nods at him, thank you; he shrugs his shoulders, no problem.

She pops a grape into her mouth and thinks of guilt and churches.

[reapersmarch]

reading old writing at 6:56 am on a Friday and being obsessed with how wound up bel is in his own head, he can't see that ric has BEEN saying he's mutually in love w him.

like.

GET OUT OF YOUR OWN HEAD FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!

unreliable narrator ass, telling the audience nobody loves me and ur just a poor boy from a poor family. shut the hell up and go kiss your boyfriend.

[deathbydarkelves]

Okay sorry I went on a rant in the tags of that "stop misusing epithets" post, here is my super basic guide on how to actually do that. Using them is fine in early drafts when you're still figuring stuff out, but they really shouldn't linger into your final draft when every scene is supposed to be clear and solidified.

Establish which characters are involved in the scene, what they're doing, and where they are, using their names.

Use pronouns to refer to them (yes, even if they both/all use the same pronouns) from here on. The things they say and do, if your scene is clear and/or your characters have distinct enough speech patterns, will be clear enough indicators of who is who.

Use names again if ever a sentence/series of sentences may get confusing, or if you've been using only pronouns for a while and a refresher is in order.

The brain glosses over pronouns and names like it does with "the" and "and". You have to be trying to make them repetitive. And even repetition is much better than a jarring, wordy, unnecessary epithet. If this is a scene where a woman is comforting her sister, who she's known for her whole life, her and/or the narrator suddenly focusing on her hair color is very strange and ruins the atmosphere!

Look, I used mostly pronouns in that sentence and you still knew who was who because I established what was going on at the start!

I promise you can write about even large groups of characters who all use the same pronouns without resorting to irrelevant epithets. I promise you can write a sex scene with two characters who use they/them just fine without them. Your goal is to immerse the reader in the emotion and action of the scene, not to intermittently take them out of it by randomly reminding us character A, who we already know, has red hair. And not in a "They laughed and ran their fingers through their hair, red turning to orange where it caught the sunlight" way. That's not an epithet and it works great. I mean in a "The redhead laughed" way. If you really want to mention part of the character's appearance, for example if the POV finds it noteworthy, do it the first way, because that actually takes us deeper into the scene and atmosphere instead of taking us out.

Epithets have their place. Practice avoiding them as much as you can, and you'll figure out where their rightful place is when it comes to your style of writing.

[beevean]

Dracula:"Ah, so the new Belmont comes to face me...Isaac?"

Simon:"Who the fuck is Isaac?"

(Simon was the redhead, right?)

It's him lol

My man has a dog collar. Imagine if he and Isaac met.

also bold of you to assume that Dracula would remember Isaac 200 years after his death lol

[http-paprika]

Me ignoring my need to update bite the hand because I'm frantically obsessed with my new call of duty oc....

[cherrygirlfriend]

black widow pairing: wife!reader x ceo!rafe synopsis: rafe gets a call from reader screaming about a spider, only to realize it really is that serious. warnings: fluff, spiders - wc: 1k i thought it'd be an interesting premise if it was an actually venomous spider!! i also decided to write this about husband!rafe, hope that's alright! thank you for requesting!

rafe was sitting in his chair, listening to yet another old man nitpick his way of doing business and giving his two cents where it really wasn't wanted, a small part of the man just wishing there was a sniper on top of some roof, getting ready to finish the job so he wouldn't have to listen to this crap.

he felt a soft vibration in the pocket of his trousers, digging out his phone and looking at the screen, your name lighting it up with an incoming call, the entire board of directors turning their attention to him, and he was conflicted about what to do; sure, this meeting was the last thing he wanted to be at, but he couldn't just ignore it. rafe sighed, pressing the red button and muttering a quiet apology, the meeting continuing like nothing happened.

but only a few seconds later, he felt his pocket start vibrating again, and he knew something was off; you never called him again after he declined your call, especially while he's at work.

"excuse me, i have to take this." rafe muttered, standing up and ignoring the judgemental looks the men were throwing his way, as he made his way out of the glass-walled meeting room, smoothing a hand over his short hair as he presses the green button with urgency, bringing his phone to his ear, "baby? what's wrong?"

the last thing he expected was to hear you scream.

"baby?" he asked, already starting to make his way to the elevator, knowing that whatever it was, he'd deal with it immediately, "baby, talk to me, what's happening? are you in danger?!"

"rafe!" you exclaimed on the other line, sounding breathless, "you gotta come home, you gotta come home right now."

"what is it? what's happening?" every single alarm bell was ringing inside rafe's head and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears; what if someone hurt you? what if you were getting robbed? what if you were in danger?

"there's a- eeeeek!" you exclaim, "there's a spider!"

rafe's hand drops from the elevator button, a dumbfounded look on his face as he held the phone to his ear; he couldn't believe he'd just rushed out of a meeting only for you to be calling him because of... a spider? he let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"baby, you're a big girl. i'm sure you can handle one damn spider. you know, i can't just ditch an important meeting because you're too sweet to kill a damn spider, it's-"

"no, rafe!" you groaned into the phone, "it's not just a damn spider, i'm pretty sure it's a venomous spider!"

"what? how do you know?"

"you know, it's that one redhead from the avengers! it has- it has a black body and a red hourglass on it's stomach, and i searched it up, and it's a venomous spider!"

"fuck..." rafe sighed, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for the bottom floor, "alright, baby, i'm coming but it's gonna take me a bit, i'll get someone to come take care of it right now."

luckily, rafe knew that a guy who lived a few houses away from you was a pretty prominent zoologist, having gotten stuck listening to him talk about snakes for almost an hour at a party his wife had held, and for once, he was thankful for weird-ass neighbors.

after thirty minutes of driving through red lights and ignoring stop signs, rafe slams the driver side's door closed, immediately spotting you sitting on the steps in front of your shared home, your head in your hands, gazing down at the ground. he made a beeline towards you, kneeling down in front of you.

"baby?" he asked, his hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to look at him. even though you'd grown up on the cut where they were practically everywhere, you'd never been too fond of bugs, and whenever they invaded your home, it was rafe who got the job of getting rid of them. he gently placed his hand under your chin, lifting your face up so you were looking up at him, your pretty lips turned down into a pout that would've looked annoying on anyone else, but on you, it was strangely endearing. anything you did was like that. "everything alright?"

you nodded, letting out a small sigh, "yeah, christa's husband came to help me with it and took it away."

"alright, so why do you look so sour?" rafe practically cooed, "c'mon. let's go inside." you let out a small sniffle, reluctantly letting rafe pull you up and lead you inside. honestly, you really didn't know why it seemed like such a big deal to you in that moment; the spider was gone now, and it wasn't like it got anywhere near you. yet, somehow it felt like the end of the world.

soon, you two were tangled on the couch, your head in the crook of his warm neck, rafe's hand carding through your hair. "everything alright?" he asked, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. "the spider's gone now, sweets."

"yeah..." you fiddled with your hands, deep in thought as you listened to rafe's steady heartbeat underneath you. "i don't know why i got so... fussy over it. i just haven't been sleeping properly, so i guess i'm more emotional."

"oh, i've noticed your little mood swings." rafe guffawed, "i still remember last week when your package hadn't arrived so you gave me the silent treatment like i was the damn mail man."

"to be fair, you managed to get it to me the very next day."

"anything for my grumpy cat." he pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose, "but i wasn't the one who made it late in the first place."

suddenly, the sentence he'd just spoken started ringing in your head, one word especially seeming to stick with you like glue.

late.

[the-acid-pear-ocs]

I think the only good thing about X is his relationship with his one and only friend, Y (yeah, i really didn't care about naming these guys). Bc on their own, they're both some of the most disgustion violent mfs ever, with X prefering psychological violence and Y prefering physical one (just little trivia for yall LMAO). But together? Together they're nothing like that. They are the worst there ever is towards (almost) everyone BUT each other. They just fucking Love and Respect and have a very strong platonic bond which is just plain fucking cute man.

[shrimpkini]

I greatly adore the idea of teen Dazai being touch-starved and not having known many kids his age. Then a fiery redhead who speaks his mind, has strong morals even in dubious situations, and is so undeniably alive enters his life. He is an anomaly that Dazai immediately becomes obsessed with. Going out of his way to find any files on him, learning his code, constantly trying to find ways to grab his attention (or annoyance), and writing about him in weekly newsletters and in personal notebooks. He is enamored by this kid and the only way he knows how to express it is be a dick.

He even sticks around longer instead of drinking the elixir Mori was going to make for him.

I’d like to think that a sense of child-like possessiveness overtakes him a bit. That in cases when he learns Chuuya has experienced things without him he is frustrated. Because not only has Chuuya had the luxury to experience some childhood staples but he also experienced those things without Dazai. Chuuya is a first for Dazai, but Dazai is not a first for Chuuya. It’s one of the first heartbreaks I think a child experiences. Like when your best friend has another best friend. Or your best friend got their ears pierced first with other people. You were supposed to do that together and now you’re lagging behind.

Of course I think he’d grow out of this like most kids do. But it makes my heart ache to think of a jealous Dazai that sees Chuuya parading around with The Flags or having already had alcohol or his first kiss before Dazai has. They’re so competitive with one another.

I have a HC that in a scenario in which Chuuya claims to have had his first kiss, Dazai calls him a liar. He calls him a liar because he doesn’t believe him but also because he doesn’t want it to be true.

Kind of unrelated but I also deeply subscribe to the HC that teen Dazai is touch-starved and therefore finds excuses to touch Chuuya. Like they’re both picking a fight because they need a hug but are too proud to ask for it or touch each other in a remotely affectionate way. Very fun.

Anyway that’s been me overanalyzing and headcanoning the crap out of soukoku.

[joeloverture]

hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

[cattordi]

a/n hi i have explanation as to why i was gone for so long please don’t sue me. i wrote this after watching saltburn and watching 2037633 felix edits. but i honestly forgot how to write so im getting back into it. don’t judge :P

summary it’s 2006 and you’re an american who recently decided to study overseas in england at oxford and there’s one person who just won’t leave you alone

pairings felix catton x american!reader

warnings smut, orgasm control, begging, foul language, creampie/breeding, overstimulation, slight choking, oral sex, not proofread, smoking cigarettes(not reader), unprotected sex, fluff, angst, name calling, daddy kink, praise, 18+ MINORS DNI

chips or crisps?

“can i just get a vodka martini?” you ask the bartender. he nods and quickly scurries off to make your drink.

england is not what you expect it to me. it’s nice. nicer than america in your opinion but the people were something.

one person you just couldn’t shake stood in all his glory across the pub. “he’s gorgeous right?” a redheaded girl says as she walks from his direction towards you.

“uh no not really” you lie. no one in their right mind could think that felix catton was unattractive. he’s 6’5, has a gorgeous smile, and a very very hot body. the only thing about him that bothered you was how he teased you. m

you didn’t know if it was because you liked him or what. “no one thinks felix is unattractive. felix doesn’t even think felix is unattractive.” the redhead continues saying.

“um do i know you?” you ask as the bartender slides your drink across the bar and you had him 4 pounds. “oou an american. i’m annabel” she says.

“hm.” you say and turn to look in felix’s direction again. hes now looking over at the bar where you and annabel are. first hes staring at annabel and then his eyes wander over to you; catching your gaze. you quickly look away not wanting to hold eye contact but for some reason your eyes wander right back to him.

he’s now smiling at you goofily because you got caught staring.

you roll your eyes and turn back facing the bar. annabel walks away after getting her drinks and now you’re officially by yourself again.

just the way you liked it.

you finish off your drink and quickly get a new one.

times passes and more people start filing into the pub; which calls for more drinks. “chips or crisps?” you hear next to you and you already know who it is.

“what do you want felix?” you groan and throw your head back.

the way your mouth is open and your neck is exposed makes felix feel a way inside. “is it chips or crisps?”

“felix i swear-“ you begin but he cuts you off. “you swear what love?” he begins and you finally look at him, “you’re you’re slap me? you’ve done that before.”

“what is your fascination with me?” you snap and he looks so amused.

“that,” he says a points at me, “what you just did is my fascination with you love.” furrowing your eyebrows he continues, “the way i get you all riled up without even touching you.” he says and his mouth is next to your ear at the point.

the smell of bourbon wraps around your head and into your nose. “you’re drunk.” you say and he chuckles.

“i’m not. lighten up y/n, you know i like teasing you.”

you can’t really tell if he’s lying so you just stop talking hoping he goes away after he gets his drinks.

newsflash: he doesn’t.

“y/n?” he says.

“what could you want now felix?”

“talk to me, love.”

“don’t call me that.. and no.”

“you just spoke to me.”

you don’t speak this time and he chuckles, “this little game we’re playing,” he begins and gestures between the two of you,” is lovely.” his accent warms you inside.

“i’m leaving.” you groan and push off your chair. you quickly gather your purse and coat before walking out; all while not even glancing at felix.

the cold england air hits you like a truck as you step outside. “it’s awfully cold.” felix says.

you jump at the unexpected sound of his voice. “felix what the hell are you doing?”

“don’t be foolish y/n. it’s 10 at night. i’m walking you back to your dorm.”

“i don’t need you to walk me back.” you say and he shrugs, “i didn’t ask you that did i?”

“whatever.” you begin walking and you can hear felix walking behind you.

after about 5 minutes of walking he finally speaks, “so y/n why don’t you like me?”

you ignore him but he won’t take that for an answer, “y/n answer the bloody question.”

you still don’t answer.

“for fucks sake,m y/n.” he says and he sounds upset. “whatever.” is all you hear before a hand wraps around your wrist pulling you between a small alley.

“felix let go.” you groan in annoyance that he won’t just leave you alone. but behind your little act, you want him to bother you; in more ways than others.

“stop acting like i don’t exist.” he begins as he gets close to your ear, “stop acting like i don’t have an effect on you.”

“you don’t.” you whisper and that pisses him off more.

“y/n,” he scoffs and you feel yourself beginning to get wet,”you act the way you do because you know, everything i do makes you feel good.”

if only he knew how true that statement was.

you shake your head, looking up at him. “listen, im not like every other girl who bows down to you. you can’t think i’m just gonna give out.”

“and why wouldn’t you love? i see the effect i have on you. i try to be so nice to you love.. and you push me away.” he begins as his hand slides into your mini skirt. “i bet you’re soaking for me.”

you refuse to make eye contact so you look down at his chest. “look at me love.” you shake your head now causing him to grab you by your jaw. “i said look at me.”

you whimper quietly at the feeling of his hand now touching the wet spot of your panties. felix’s eyes soften at your sound, “do i make you this wet love?”

after a few seconds, you finally give into all the feelings. so you nod your head but this doesn’t satisfy him, “words.”

“yes.”

“good girl. now,” he begins before pulling his hands out of your panties; causing you to whimper again at the lost of touch, “let’s go to my dorm. i’m not taking you in a bloody alley, darling.”

with that, he grabs your hand and begins walking quickly in the direction of the dorms. you can’t help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours.. and how long his legs are. one of his steps is 3 of yours.

after another 30 seconds of walking he stops. “you walk awfully slow love.”

“well sorry i’m not-“ you begin but yelp as your feet leave the ground and felix throws you over his shoulder. “felix put me down!” you groan.

“darling we are like 3 minutes away. just let me carry you.” he says and smacks your butt. the stinging feeling after keeps you quiet.

those three minutes pass so quickly you don’t even realize he’s walked the stair of his dorm and is now unlocking the door.

slowly, felix sets you down and points to the bed. “take your skirt off.”

you hum in response before pulling your skirt down. he’s watching you intently with his arms crossed. his button up shirt is unbuttoned halfway down; revealing his sculpted chest.

“now your,” he begins and points at your panties. as you slide them off the moon shines on your glistening folds and a low groan comes out of him.

as you discard of you panties, felix walks over and stands between your legs. “look at me.” you do as he says, “is this what you want?”

felix begins squatting down slowly. “do you want to be mine y/n?” he ask when he’s parellel with your pussy. his hot breath sends shivers up your spine. “hm y/n? answer me love.”

his hands wrap around your thighs. “yes felix.. that’s what i want.” you moan out as he begins kissing your inner thigh.

“well before we start.. call me daddy.” he lips your pussy in between words, “and you only cum when i say so. understood?”

you whimper lightly, “yes daddy.”

you’d never called a guy daddy before but it got you off more than you expected.

“well then,” with that felix’s mouth attacks your folds and clit causing your back to arch in pleasure.

your hands find his hair as he continues licking up and down your slit; ever so often he’ll hum and the feeling it gives almost pushes you over the edge.

“can i cum please daddy?” you ask and he hums something that sounds like a no. “please, please i want to cum.”

the begging and humming goes on for another minute or so until felix stops. “what happened?” you ask breathlessly.

“you tasted delicious darling, but i don’t want you to cum until i’m in you.”

he quickly pecks you on the lips before rolling you onto your stomach. you can’t see what he’s doing but his shadow cast on the wall as he stands.

you hear his belt being undone and soon his hand cupping your ass. “god, you’re perfect darling” he groans as his hand slides down; his accent is music to your ears.

“thank you..” you moan as he moves his dick between your wet folds. “thank you what?”

his hand wraps around your throat, “say it y/n.” the way your name rolls off his lips makes you feel so good. “thank you daddy.”

“good girl.” with that he slides in. you couldn’t see how big it was but you could definitely feel it. you moan in pleasurable pain as he stretches you.

doggystyle wasn’t always your first choice of positions because after a lot bit it was too much. every thrust would hit your cervix and begin hurting but with felix: it felt good.

“so- damned- tight.” he says and thrust harder in between words. you dig your face into the comforter moaning.

his hand snakes around your body to the front and begins rubbing your clit in small agonizingly pleasing circles. “felix-“

a sharp smack hits your ass, “that’s not my name y/n.”his hips continue to smack into you as he fucks you senselessly. “what’s my name?”

“fuck i need to cum.” you moan and he smacks your ass again, before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you up towards his chest continuing to fuck you. the new position caused him to hit your g spot in more ways than before. “what’s my name?” he ask through gritted teeth.

you’d never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone before. “can i please cum, daddy?”

“that’s what i like to hear.. but no.” his hand continues massage your swollen bud as he breathes heavily on your neck; fucking you maliciously. “god, do you feel god. all wet for me.. letting me fuck you to no avail like daddys slut.”

“please can i come daddy? please.. you feel so good.” you moan,

he pushes you back onto the bed, holding your by the neck; keeping you in place. “please daddy can i cum?” the feeling of release deepens so much and you can’t take it.

“i can’t take it.” you say through pleasured cries. the way he rubs your clit and hits your g spot repeatedly overstimulates you.

“yes you can and you will y/n.” he begins, “you’re mine now. all mine. no one could fuck you like i do. don’t you agree?”

you nod while whimpering out hushed “yes daddy”’s

“good. do you want to cum?”

“yes, yes please.”

“beg. and make sure it’s loud. i want everyone in this dorm to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

“please daddy. please can i come? i want to make you feel good.” you plead and you have to admit: you can be louder.

“that’s not loud enough darling.” he says and stops rubbing your clit. the lost of friction causes you to whimper. “louder.”

“please daddy. i need to come. please, i can’t take it anymore.” you grab the sheets of his bed and grip them tight as an anchor as he fucks you.

“louder y/n, you’re almost there.” he groans. you can tell he’s getting close as well. his grip on your hips has tightened and you can feel his shaft pulsing slightly against your walls.

his fingers touch your clit again and you moan loudly, “oh my gosh, can i please cum daddy? you feel so good in me. i want to cum all on your dick.”

this time you’re so loud he’s even threatened to cover your mouth. “cum love. milk my cock like i know you’ve wanted too since we met”

at the sound of his permission, you release your orgasm. white flashes take over your vision as you release what felix has took his time to build up.

he continues to fuck you through your orgasm causing more pleasure. moaning loudly, you arch your back towards him. “holy hell, you’re so tight around me.”

he groans and pushes your hips into the bed. his thrust begin to slow and become sputtered movements. “you were made for me y/n.. so perfect.” he groans as releases hot white spurts that coat your walls.

the way he talks to you turns you on even more as you come down from your high. he continues to fuck you slowly as his cum drips out of you and onto your clit.

“fuck y/n..” he moans softly as he pulls out slowly. you continue laying down trying to catch your breath as he stands.

you hear things being more behind you but you’re too weak to turn your head and look. after a few seconds, you feel felix straddling you. “roll over.”

you do as he says to reveal he’s holding a cloth. “open your legs for me..”

slowly, you open your legs to reveal your swollen sex. “you did so good love.”

felix squats lowly and begins wiping you up. “thank you.”

smiling at you he continues,”but you know.. you never answered my question.”

“hm?”

“chips or crisps?”

[amourluvie]

Omg I saw you were making Homicipher content,idk if you write for Mr.Scarletta but can you just write typical relationship headcanons for him and Mr.Crawling thank youuu

I DO WRITE FOR THE DELUSIONAL REDHEAD !! LOVE HIM FRFR

◟✿ typical relationship hcs with mr crawling+ mr scarletella . . .ᐟᅟ

notes . . .ᐟ i am hungry

characters . . .ᐟ mr crawling and mr scarletella from homicipher

MR CRAWLING . . .ᐟ

. . .ᐟ he's such a puppy,following you everywhere to make sure your okay and protect you from any possible danger

. . .ᐟ whenever your scared or sad,he will pat you on your head,his touch is weirdly comforting as he reassures you everything is going to be fine

. . .ᐟ he would sometimes hug you behind and startle you,with a eerie yet cute giggle

. . .ᐟ when you kiss him,his lips are cold like winter. And strangely comforting of that of a warm blanket during the cold days.

. . .ᐟ I feel like he doesn't have to eat or drink to survive,but will accept any food you offer to him,as he savours the flavours.

. . .ᐟ cuddling with him is heaven,you and him locked in eachother's embrace.

MR SCARLETELLA . . .ᐟ

. . .ᐟ just like mr crawling,he's very protective of you- and tends to be with you at all times,his mysterious yet intimidating figure looming over you,his dead,eerie eyes covered by his Ruby coloured hair.

. . .ᐟ he would carry you whenever you get exhausted from wandering around the realm.

. . .ᐟ he will also scare you sometimes,seeking the joy in seeing you get so startled by him.

. . .ᐟ his lips are surprisingly pretty warm,so kissing him feels comforting too.

. . .ᐟ he loves it when you tangled your fingers in his hair.

. . .ᐟ his hugs are pretty comforting too

. . .ᐟ If he ever finds you sad or scared of something, he will make sure the thing that makes you feel unsafe gets squashed into a bloody pulp. + He will comfort you with both words and touch.

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,” 

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

[lightseoul]

Hiii congrats on 2k! Can you please do no. 22 for this event. Love you💗

hello, nonnie! thank you so much for the greetings <3 and yes, of course! this was so fun to write lol it practically wrote itself. hope this one makes y'all laugh! and love you too 😚

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

22. "ARE YOU SINGLE?" (1.3k)

none of this would’ve happened if shitty hair—the hulking brute of a gentleman he begrudgingly calls his best friend—didn’t notice.

they were just taking a short albeit much-needed water break at the tail end of the day-shift patrol, the unforgiving sun having pushed them to near dehydration (as it always does) as they guarded this rather quiet part of the city.

and to be fair, it’s not like he did it on purpose.

he was just briefly but thoroughly scanning the area, like a responsible pro-hero on duty would, when his eyes laid on you.

“what was that?” kirishima, who just downed an entire 500 mL liter of cold water they got from the convenience store a block away, suddenly pipes up from right beside him.

“what.”

when the redhead doesn’t say anything for a beat, bakugou chances a glance at him, only to find the man sporting a shit-eating grin.

bakugou feels himself bristle.

kirishima’s grin only widens. “you just did a double take at that girl.”

“what girl?” bakugou grits out, feigning ignorance.

but any plans he had to keep that charade up practically fly out the proverbial window when the damned hardening hero moves to unabashedly point in your direction, and before his mind can catch up, his body lunges forward to restrain the man’s arm.

the man in question laughs. “i knew it.”

bakugou only scowls at him before shoving him away, as if he wasn’t the one who threw himself onto the guy in panic. kirishima takes it in stride, though, used to years of his friend’s rough treatment, taking the opportunity to look at you instead.

“ooh, she is cute.”

“shut up.”

bakugou fights the urge to follow his friend’s line of vision, knowing all too well what’ll greet him at the end of it.

he admits his gaze might’ve lingered a beat too long, not that he’ll ever admit that to his patrol buddy.

no, he’s taking that secret with him to the grave.

“let’s go say hi.”

bakugou instantly looks up in alarm, but before he can lunge forward again and hold the stupid fucking man back, kirishima is already up and crossing the street, the traffic lights having conveniently turned green for pedestrians just a moment ago.

he pauses for a second, the urge to flee and hide from you before his best friend does something to embarrass him and the curious need to go do say hi raging a tug of war inside of him.

but if there’s one thing he knows for certain as a pro-hero, it’s that a second’s worth of hesitation can cause irrevocable damage.

and so with gritted teeth, he follows suit and crosses the street, and in just a few strides, he finds himself trailing slightly behind the redhead, who’s now merely several feet from where you’re standing, holding to your chest what seems to be a clipboard.

you notice kirishima first, probably having heard the heavy booted footsteps of the two men, turning on your heel at the sound. your eyes widen at the sight, before your face morphs into a look of recognition and… pleasant surprise?

“oh gosh—” you start, eyes annoyingly fixed on his best friend, “—red riot, hello!”

“heya, …” kirishima trails off, and you promptly supply him with your name.

his pr prince of a best friend beams at you. “nice to meet ya!”

and only then does his presence seem to register to you, because your gaze finally drifts to him, and your smile falters for just a millisecond before you school your features into a polite expression.

“hello, mr. dynamight, sir.”

he feels his eye twitch at the salutation, and he doesn’t have to look at the pro-hero beside him to know that the guy is watching the scene before him in mild amusement. he doesn’t know how else to respond if not to ask you why the fuck he’s being treated so formally while you regard shitty hair with subtle familiarity, so he settles with a grunt.

that seems enough to satisfy you, though, because you swiftly turn back to kirishima. “my best friend is a huge fan of yours, by the way.”

and as kirishima readily accepts the compliment and thanks you, bakugou finds his mind singlehandedly honing on what you just said.

your best friend is a huge fan of kirishima, not you.

also, that means your best friend is a fan of his best friend.

and if the four of you were to pair up, perhaps on a double date…

bakugou shakes his head at the thought, and perhaps too aggressively, because he catches both of your attention, the two of you glancing at him with worry.

“you okay, bakubro?”

he steals a glance in your direction, which he instantaneously regrets, because he makes eye contact with you. he immediately averts his gaze, choosing to face the guy instead.

“‘m fine.”

kirishima hesitates. “you sure?”

bakugou only tosses him a glare.

“i’m gonna take that as a yes,” kirishima shoots back, before returning the smile on his face and shifting to regard you. “anyway, we were just taking a short break from patrol and wanted to check in. everything alright here?”

that apparently is enough to make you light up. bakugou’s gut churns in what is absolutely not jealousy.

“yeah, thanks!” you reply, gratitude bleeding into your tone. “i was just—” you trail off, eyes shifting down to that clipboard you’ve been clutching this entire time, before: “you know what, do you guys have a minute?”

“sure!”

“no.”

kirishima whips to look at him. “come on, bakubro! let’s help the citizens out, yeah?”

and bakugou doesn’t know why or how, but his mouth runs off before his brain or heart can dictate to him what to say.

“yeah,” he mutters, “for all i know, this is just a fucking pyramid scheme.”

instantly, the air around the three of you goes quiet.

that is, until kirishima pipes up. “he’s just joki—”

“thanks, red riot—” you cut him off, much to bakugou’s surprise, his eyes shooting up to look at you whose lips are now pulled into a tight line.

“—but i think only dynamight here fits my research’s inclusion criteria.”

your what?

and before he could even comprehend the last three words you just uttered, you bring up your clipboard and pen like you’re about to jot something down, and hit him with it.

“are you single?”

bakugou only gawks at you, too stunned to speak. although he apparently doesn’t have to, because you continue.

“are you?” you repeat, before laughing dryly. “of course you are, what with that fucking attitude…”

at that, kirishima instantly barks out a genuine laugh, his booming voice reverberating throughout the street, even startling the cat perched on top of those large garbage disposals.

bakugou, on the other hand, only gapes at you in horror, because who would’ve thought the pretty girl from across the street was a fucking rude ass potty mouth?

a fucking rude ass potty mouth who could clock him like that?

“does he tend to go speechless like this?” you ask kirishima a few moments later, who’s still shaking in suppressed laughter.

“no,” the pro-hero finally replies after catching his breath. “you’re the first one i’ve ever seen make him this way.”

“really?” you reply, voice low and laced with sarcastic disbelief.

“he is actually single, though,” kirishima quickly adds, much to his chagrin. “…if you’re interested.”

as if on cue, you finally turn to look at bakugou, and he—swear to god—feels his heart stop when you glance at him, something akin to curiosity hidden amidst your features.

but he doesn’t get to bask in it, though, or in its implications, because his dipshit of a best friend drawls on.

“if you are, though, that’s great—”

oh, don’t make him do it.

“—because he finds you very much attra—”

BAM!

[mywritersmind]

OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4

summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3

listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader

word count : 1017

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”

I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.

“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.

The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?

“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.

They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.

“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.

“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.

“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes

“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.

“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.

His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”

I nod, “I’m sure.”

“I could have sworn it was her room!”

I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”

“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”

I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”

He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”

“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”

He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”

I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.

The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.

“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.

I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.

He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.

“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”

“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”

He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”

“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”

“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”

I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”

“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”

“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”

Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”

“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”

“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.

“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”

Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.

“Good luck.”

The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.

I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.

I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.

Except when I open the door, no one’s there.

I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.

I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.

[hard-core-super-star]

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

[andikiramman]

your little girlfriend thinks i'm pretty

caitlyn x vi x maddie

word count: 5.7k

A/N: y'all i did it... but jsyk i started writing this before the finale so unfortunately this isn't the hate sex some of y'all were hoping for, but i mean if y'all really want it i wouldn't mind making it happen (◠‿◕)

MEN, MINORS, AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Ever since Vi became an Enforcer, she knew that there’d be those that wouldn’t want her there. Entitled Pilties that think she’s leeching off the head of the Kiramman household for whatever stupid reason they came up with. Honestly, she was okay with that. She spent her entire life being judged and discriminated against by Topsiders; at this point, she really couldn’t give less of a fuck.

However, even she had her limits.

Vi barged into Caitlyn’s office (being the only one in the entire precinct with enough audacity to do so), kicking the door shut and plopping down in one of the chairs in front of Cait’s desk. She was visibly fuming, her arms crossed tightly in front of her as her leg bounced with agitation. 

Even though she wasn't looking at her directly, Vi knew Cait was watching her, waiting for her to justify her behavior.

“Cupcake, I’ve had it up to here with your little girlfriend, okay?!” Vi sneered.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes at that, sighing and dropping her pen onto the desk.

“Vi, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling her that? Maddie is not my girlfriend, you are!”

“Then can you please remind her so she can leave me the fuck alone?!”

Cait went silent for a moment as she took in Vi’s words.

“What do you mean by that? Has she been giving you problems?”

Vi scoffed. “Uh, yeah! I swear, ever since you broke things off with her, she keeps… staring at me!”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Staring…?”

“Yes, staring!” Vi repeated. “I swear, it’s like she has some sort of problem with me, or something!”

“And since when did you care if someone had a problem with you?” Cait frowned.

Vi prepared to say something, but she just sighed, rubbing her temple.

“Look, typically I really wouldn’t give a shit– I wouldn’t have even come to you if it were anyone else but, you know…”

Vi gave Caitlyn a genuine look, and she finally understood.

“Alright, I’ll… I’ll speak to Maddie myself, okay? I’ll see what’s going on.”

Vi nodded silently, standing up to leave. “Thanks, Cupcake.”

“Oh, and Vi?” Caitlyn called just before she left.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Vi smiled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “I love you too, Cupcake.”

Feeling a sense of relief, Vi opened the door, only for a body to come tumbling down from the other side.

Vi jumped back, her fists instinctively came up to shield her face, ready for a fight.

“What the- Maddie?!”

The junior officer brushed herself off, grabbing the beret that fell off her head and fixing it back on. “Oh, Vi… top o’ the morning…”

Cait silently observed in confusion, but at this point, Vi was enraged.

“Do you see what I mean?!” she shouted. “Why the fuck is she here?!”

Before Cait could offer an answer, Vi was picking up Maddie by her collar, the smaller woman’s feet dangling in the air as she yelped.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem with me, Nolen?” Vi questioned aggressively. “What is it about me that’s bothering you so damn much, huh?!”

Maddie spluttered, struggling to find an answer as she fought to find some sort of footing. 

“I don’t… I–”

At this point, Caitlyn was growing increasingly frustrated that she was being inhibited from completing her paperwork, so she decided to put an end to the shitshow immediately.

“That’s enough!”

Vi and Maddie both froze, turning their attention to the Sheriff.

“Vi, please put Junior Officer Nolen down, now.”

The redhead did just so, setting Maddie down gently (though she felt more inclined to just drop her).

“Maddie, close my door.”

Maddie gulped, wordlessly turning and closing the door to Caitlyn’s office.

“Now,” the sheriff sighed, clasping her hands together, “from what I understand, there seems to be some sort of dispute between the two of you.”

Maddie furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t have any problem with–”

“Yeah fuckin’ right!” Vi interrupted with a scoff. “Ever since Cait dumped you you’ve been eyeing me like I got something that belongs to you!”

Maddie blinked a few times, her cheeks starting to redden in a blush.

“I… I have?”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that shit, Nolen. Every time I happen to glance your way, you’re staring right at me!”

Maddie averted her gaze as she began nervously playing with her fingers. “Oh…”

“Oh, so you’re not even gonna deny it?” Vi sneered, marching right up to Maddie and harshly grabbing her cheeks to turn her face back towards her. “What’s your fucking deal, Nolen?”

Maddie gasped, her blush spreading to the rest of her face. She gulped, seemingly steeling her resolve, before opening her mouth to speak.

“You’re pretty…”

A beat of silence.

“W-What…?”

Maddie took a deep breath in to cool herself down.

“I-I have to admit Vi… at first, I was kind of jealous of you. I guess at first, I really was glaring at you.”

Vi finally let go, taking a step back and raising her eyebrow. “But…?”

“But,” Maddie spoke again, fiddling with the edge of her shirt, “the more I watched you, the more I found myself becoming… attracted to you.”

Caitlyn was still eerily silent. She’d never imagined the scenario before her ever happening but she wasn’t going to complain about it, either. If she played her cards right…

“A-Attracted… to me?” Vi rasped out in shock. Her breathing became heavy, and she couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or anticipation.

Maddie nodded. “You… you’re very pretty, Vi. I never considered you to be my type but–” she turned to Caitlyn– “I see the appeal.”

Caitlyn said nothing as she looked between Maddie and Vi, letting her girlfriend attempt to handle this situation on her own.

After being paralyzed with shock, Vi finally let out a scoff, which turned into a chuckle. She stuck her hands in her pocket, slowly making her way over to Caitlyn’s chair.

“You hear that, Cupcake? Your little girlfriend thinks I’m pretty…”

Caitlyn side-eyed her, waiting for the redhead to continue.

“…So much so that she couldn’t keep her eyes off me for months. To top it all off, she even followed me to your office, for who knows why.”

Maddie gulped, keeping her eyes glued to the floor in front of her. She gasped when her chin was suddenly forced upwards, being met with Vi’s cloudy grey eyes.

“So now what, Nolen?” Vi muttered huskily. “You told us exactly how you feel, n’ you got us both right where you want us, so what now?”

Maddie’s breath quickened, her eyes dropping to Vi’s lips for a brief second before returning her gaze.

“I… I think this is something we could maybe talk about another time…?”

Before Vi could answer, Caitlyn stood, cutting the conversation short.

“You know what? Officer Nolen is right,” she announced. “Do keep in mind we are still on the clock.”

This time, Caitlyn allowed herself a slight smirk, turning her attention to Maddie.

“Maddie, why don’t you come pay us a visit tomorrow?” The taller woman offered. “I feel the relaxed environment would be more suitable for this sort of dilemma… how does that sound?”

Maddie, visibly stunned, stuttered for a moment, before finally finding a response.

“Uh… y-yeah, sure.”

🢝 🢝 🢝 🢝

“O-Oh fuck… Vi…”

The redhead simply hummed in response, her mouth occupied on Maddie’s neck. She alternated between kissing, biting, and sucking, anything to elicit those cute little sounds she’s been making since Vi got her hands on her. Vi’s hands in question were roaming Maddie’s body, shamelessly groping her ass as she pulled her ever closer.

The warmth building up within Maddie’s body was starting to grow unbearable, despite the slightly revealing spaghetti strap dress she currently had on (she had to admit, though she’d have no problems with simply coming over to talk, she prayed that her visit would lead to something a bit more… physical).

“Sure you don’t wanna join in, Cupcake?” Vi asked Caitlyn from the crook of Maddie’s neck. “I'm sure our little guest would enjoy her visit more if we both showed her a bit of hospitality…”

Oh my god, yes please! Maddie begged in her mind.

Caitlyn was currently seated on a chair efficiently placed in front of the bed, which happened to offer a splendid view of the two women making out on the mattress before her. She took a sip from the cup of tea she poured herself, humming at the sweet taste of organic raspberry leaf.

“I’m quite alright at the moment,” she respectfully declined, “I believe the two of you should spend some time working out your differences first. Though, I may feel more inclined to join a bit later on.”

Vi only shrugged before bringing her attention back to Maddie. She grabbed the smaller woman’s neck, pulling her in for a nasty kiss full of tongue. She swirled the muscle around Maddie’s own for a few seconds before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching out between their lips. 

“Why don’t you take this off for me, sweetheart?” Vi muttered as she tugged at Maddie’s dress.

Maddie nodded, wordlessly tugging her dress off of her body and tossing it to another part of the room. She nervously bit her lip when she noticed Vi’s teasing stare.

“Lace?” she questioned. “Oh, you really came here hoping to get fucked, huh?”

Maddie shrugged. “Guess there isn’t a point in denying it anymore, is there?”

The younger woman grabbed Vi’s face, pulling her in for another kiss as they fell back on the mattress. Vi growled into Maddie’s mouth, rough hands coming up to harshly palm at her breasts. A whimper turned into a gasp as black lace was torn apart, dusty pink nipples hardening as they were exposed to the cool air.

“Vi!”

Vi hummed as she kissed a trail down Maddie’s chest, the tip of her nose following the trail her lips left.

“Sorry, ‘m getting a bit impatient.”

Maddie let out a curse as she felt the wet warmth of Vi’s tongue envelop a nipple, her back arching off the bed as her legs wrapped around Vi’s waist.

“Fuck, so am I… just fuck me already…”

Vi scoffed, and Caitlyn simply offered an amused huff.

“Don’t think you can boss me around just ‘cause you’re getting what you want,” the muscled woman grumbled, punctuating her warning with a bite to Maddie’s breast.

Maddie yelped, her body flinching from the pain. Still, that didn’t stop her audacious behavior.

“What I want is for you to stop fucking talking so much and just eat me out or something!”

At that, Vi pulled away, sitting back on her heels as she glared at the ginger in front of her. Maddie, realizing she was a bit out of line, shrunk in on herself, her face turning a deep shade of red.

“P-Please…?”

Vi squared her jaw, before shaking her head and sighing. “Y’know, I see why Cait likes you so much,” she mused as she tugged Maddie’s black panties down her legs. She had half a mind to shove them into Maddie’s mouth, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, she grabbed Maddie’s thighs to pull her closer before holding her by the back of her knees to keep her legs spread open.

“It’ll be fun to get you off that damned high horse of yours.”

That was all that was said before Vi finally dove into her, her tongue tasting all that Maddie had to offer. She groaned as her tongue delved into Maddie’s hole, relishing in the sweet essence that was her arousal. And fuck, was there so much of it, the anticipation building up over the last two days keeping the woman soaked. Vi ate Maddie out like she was her last meal, her strong hands keeping Maddie’s legs firmly tucked against her chest.

Maddie, on the other hand, was absolutely losing her mind. She’s dreamed of this. Touched herself to the thought of this. Nothing, absolutely none of it, could’ve actually prepared her for the real thing. Vi was inexplicably good at giving head. Every time Vi decided to slip her tongue into her pussy, her nose nudged her clit, sending a hot jolt down her spine that had her thrusting her hips into Vi’s mouth. And when Vi decided to finally give attention to her aching clit— holy shit, it was like Maddie’s third eye opened, the pleasure alone had her feeling on top of the world. She kept one hand tangled in Vi’s hair and the other bunched in her own, sweet cries of pure bliss escaping her slacked jaw and spit-covered lips.

“Oh my– o-oh my god, fuck… Vi!”

Vi only responded with a whine of her own; she was clearly enjoying herself down there, eating Maddie simply for her own pleasure and nothing else.

Cait quietly watched the scene before her, one leg crossed over the other as she began pouring herself another cup of tea and adding a spoonful of sugar. Her scrutinizing blue eyes traced the curves of the women’s bodies, especially zeroing in on where Vi’s mouth moved diligently against Maddie’s core. It was as though she had front row seats to her own private show, everything on such clear display for her viewing pleasure. She couldn’t tell whether the warmth sizzling inside of her was from the tea or the two women making a mess on her bedsheets, but what she did know is that she’d feel the need to join them very soon. She pried her eyes away from the main event for just a moment to examine Maddie’s face. Her fucked out expression, her scrunched eyebrows, her eyes that were squeezed shut, the staccato breaths that left her lips… Maddie was going to cum, and very soon.

“Vi… Vi, please I’m so close… I’m, I– oh, ohfuck!”

Maddie clawed at the bedsheets as her orgasm rushed through her, her entire body quivering with the white-hot rush of ecstasy. Vi didn’t stop, though. She didn’t even slow down her ministrations against Maddie’s cunt. She ignored the sporadic twitching of her hips, Maddie’s whines from overstimulation, and even her unsuccessful attempts at closing her legs against Vi’s strong hands.

Maddie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as both of her hands tangled themselves in Vi’s hair. Her back arched with each insistent swipe of Vi’s tongue.

“Oh my– Vi, shit… Vi, I already, mmph oh my fucking–”

Maddie went tumbling headfirst into another orgasm, this one knocking the wind out of her. Yet, Vi didn’t stop, nor did she show any signs of stopping. The stimulation was bordering on overbearing at this point, and Maddie turned her head to Caitlyn in hopes that she could talk Vi out from between her legs.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” Caitlyn apologized, despite the obvious lack of sympathy in her voice, “Vi’s enjoying herself so much that I don’t believe she plans on stopping anytime soon.”

And Caitlyn could not have been more right in that moment. One, two, three orgasms later, and Vi was still devouring Maddie from the inside out. At this point, Maddie was barely present, her entire body going slack on the bed. Her eyes couldn’t even focus, and all she could muster at this point were pitiful whimpers.

“No…” she whined weakly. “Vi…”

Caitlyn let out an amused hum, grabbing her teapot in hopes to pour another cup of tea, only to find that it was completely empty. She tsked in annoyance, finally standing from her seat.

“Vi, be nice.”

At the sound of Cait’s authoritative voice, Vi finally lifted herself up from between Maddie’s legs.

“Just look at the poor thing,” Cait mumbled, “I fear you may have broken her.”

Vi put Maddie’s legs down, and the ginger woman immediately took the chance to squeeze them shut, whimpering a small fuck as she did so.

“‘S not my fault,” Vi grunted, “she was getting arrogant.”

“Oh yeah?” Cait challenged as she began stripping down herself, until she was left in just a camisole and panties. Her pebbled nipples poked through the sheer fabric, and Vi couldn’t help but lick her lips at the sight. Her eyes moved down, taking in the entirety of Cait’s lithe figure: her long legs, her gentle curves, and a face with looks that could kill.

Damn, how did she manage to get so lucky?

It was seductive, the way Caitlyn’s hips rocked as she stalked over to Vi. She cradled her girlfriend’s cheek before going in for a kiss, sweet yet deep and full of passion. Once they pulled away, Cait bit her lip, looking Vi’s up and down.

“Go get the strap, love,” she commanded softly.

At that request, Vi’s cheeks reddened in a blush. “You’re gonna let me…?”

Cair raised an eyebrow at Vi’s implication. “I believe you’re mistaken, dear. I plan on folding you up just like you had our friend here,” she clarified with a motion towards Maddie, who was laying with an arm slung over her eyes.

“Now hurry up and go get it,” Cait reiterated. “I’m feeling a bit… energized. In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s comfortable.”

Vi nodded rapidly as she stuttered out an affirmative. She was quick to scurry off the bed, going into their large walk-in closet in search of the toy and harness.

In the meantime, Cait made her way over to Maddie, signaling her presence with a soft brush of her hand.

“You okay, honey?” she hummed.

Maddie groaned, her arm falling away from her face.

“Vi is fucking insane…”

Caitlyn chuckled. “Vi’s a munch,” she corrected. “You were doomed from the second you told her to eat you out. Go on and get comfortable on the pillows, you can rejoin when you’re ready.”

With a grunt, Maddie moved herself up to settle on the mountain of pillows. Today was going to be a long day…

Vi came back just seconds later, the jet black toy in one hand, a harness and bottle of lube in the other.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn praised, taking the items from Vi and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I want you on your back.”

“Yes ma’am,” Vi replied, finding her place on the bed and resting back on her elbows. She could feel Maddie’s eyes on her, probably admiring her physique. She ignored her, instead focusing on Cait tightening the harness on her hips and strapping up.

When Cait finally turned her attention to her, Vi’s throat immediately went dry. The sight of the strap-on sitting perfectly on her hips had her body firing up from the inside out. Cait mounted the bed, crawling towards Vi until she was in between her spread legs.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Caitlyn muttered sensually, “all ready for me…”

Vi swallowed the lump in her throat, but all that came out was a strained whimper. Cait grabbed Vi’s calves and placed them on her shoulders, leaning in closer until their bodies were flush against each other. Vi let out a gasp as she felt the tip of the dildo run through her folds, and Cait hummed in response.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Vi… Maddie’s got you all riled up, doesn’t she?”

Vi’s ears blushed a deep shade of red, and she turned away from Cait’s lingering stare. Cait bit her lip at Vi’s sudden shyness, deciding to tease her by grinding her hips forward. Vi squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth falling open at the toy catching against her clit.

“Fuck… Cait, please…”

Caitlyn smirked. “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.”

Cait pushed her hips forward again, and this time the dildo went inside, stretching Vi out with each inch that gradually slipped into her.

“H-Holy shit, Cupcake,” Vi whimpered once it was all the way in. The position Cait had her in had the dildo reaching so fucking deep, it was like she could feel it in her stomach.

Caitlyn slowly pulled back a few inches, before snapping her hips forward again. Vi cried out in response, rough hands coming up to grab Cait’s shoulders.

“Please! Holy fuck, Cait, I need you to fuck me please!” she whined in desperation.

Caitlyn chuckled. “Gods, I love when you beg for me, Vi…”

Cait decided to give Vi exactly what she wanted, setting a brutal pace with the strap and being sure to bury herself to the hilt each time. She knew she was fucking Vi good, too, the redhead’s eyes glazing over as sweet whimpers and gasps escaped her lips. Fuck, what Cait would give to be able to feel Vi’s pussy in this moment. She’d stay here forever, just buried in Vi’s warmth.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so damn good, Vi,” Cait growled huskily as she roughly grabbed Vi’s face. Vi’s eyes finally focused (barely), and she keened at the sight of Cait above her.

“Mmh, shit, Cait you’re– oh fuck– you’re in my stomach,” Vi slurred in between loud moans.

“Is that right?” Cait teased. “This pussy can get so fuckin’ deep, huh?”

Vi nodded rapidly. “Mmh, yeah…”

Meanwhile, Maddie watched the scene before her like a hawk. Vi and Caitlyn… it was so rough, yet so intimate. She never thought Vi would be the type to beg, nor be the one to let someone pin her down and strap her the way she was, but since it was Caitlyn, she guessed that anything was possible. She had to admit, even though she wasn’t currently included, the two of them fucking like this was so hot. She swallowed, bringing a hand down to rub light circles against her clit. Her hips twitched; she was still a bit sensitive, but growing more aroused the longer she observed the couple in front of her. She used her other hand to pinch a nipple, rolling the rosy bud between her fingers at the same time. She let out a soft whine, the light pleasure she was giving herself had her rolling her hips against her hand. Shit, I wanna get fucked like that…

“Open your fucking mouth,” Caitlyn growled, and Vi did just so, allowing the taller woman to spit onto her tongue. Vi swallowed, opening her mouth again to show off her obedience.

“Good girl,” Cait muttered, leaning down to rest her forehead against Vi’s as she fucked her harder and faster.

“Ooh– oh Cait, Cait, Cait, fuck!”

Caitlyn groaned, her warm breath fanning Vi’s lips, not daring to stop her brutal pace for even for a second. 

“A-Ah, Caaaait, Cait, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Vi screamed. Just seconds later, she was cumming, her strong legs locking Caitlyn in place as the rest of her body shivered violently with her release. After a few moments, Cait finally slowed down, leaning back and letting Vi’s legs drop to the bed below her.

“Fuck, you did such a good job,” Cait praised, pulling out of Vi to reveal the slicked up toy, drenched in Vi’s arousal. “You took me so well.”

Vi sniffled as she came down from her high. “T-Thank you…”

Caitlyn smiled down at her, so genuine and loving, before turning her attention to Maddie.

“You. Come here.”

Maddie, taken aback at the sudden shift, was stuck in place for a moment. The way Caitlyn watched her, one hand on her breast, the other in between her legs, she suddenly felt so… exposed.

“I don’t have all day, you know.”

At that, Maddie scrambled forward, until she was face to face with the Sheriff herself. Caitlyn grabbed her, kissing her in a similar fashion to the way Vi did earlier. It was nasty, sloppy, and full of tongue. To top it all off, Caitlyn started sucking on Maddie’s tongue, making the younger woman shiver with arousal. Before she could get too comfortable, however, Caitlyn pulled away. This time, she grabbed her roughly, positioning Maddie on her hands and knees right on top of Vi. Maddie gasped, now right in between the two, her heart was pounding at a mile a minute. She felt hands on her waist, which caused her to jump a little, before hearing snickering coming from below her.

“What’s wrong? You’re so jittery all of a sudden,” Vi teased. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Mads? Both of us…?”

Maddie gulped, letting Vi wrap her hand around her neck and pull her down for a kiss. It was slow, sensual, missing all the roughness from earlier. She could feel Caitlyn touching her, her slender fingers dipping in between her legs and inside of her. Maddie moaned against Vi’s lips, rocking her hips in tandem with Cait’s fingers. Vi’s free hand was aimlessly roaming her body, feeling the goosebumps along her back, the dip of her waist, and the swell of her ass. She could easily get lost in this letting the two women touch and play with her body however they pleased.

Then, she felt Caitlyn’s fingers leave her, only to be replaced by something much thicker. She gasped, turning around to look at Cait.

“Caitlyn…”

“I know how you are, Maddie,” Cait warned. “Don’t bother trying to run.”

With that, Caitlyn slowly pushed in, stretching Maddie out on the toy. Though it was well lubricated with Vi’s own release, it was still a tight fit.

“Oh my god!” Maddie cried. “Caitlyn, that’s too big!”

She tried lifting her hips forward to alleviate the pressure, but Vi was quick to stop her, using her strength to keep her in place.

“Didn’t she just say not to run?” Vi muttered. “Gonna disobey the sheriff?”

Before Maddie could muster a reply, Caitlyn was pushing forward again, gripping Maddie’s hips tightly to make sure she didn’t try moving. Maddie’s jaw dropped, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she was stretched to the limit. Her head was spinning; the toy was hitting every spot inside of her. When Cait finally bottomed out, Maddie felt a shiver run up her spine, tears welling in the corners of her eyes from the stretch.

“Aw, don’t cry,” Vi taunted. “You’re taking it so well, Mads.”

Maddie whined, sharp nails digging into Vi’s broad shoulders as Caitlyn started a slow pace, sheathing herself completely with each deep thrust. Maddie couldn’t help but try to pull away each time the tip kissed her cervix, but Caitlyn made sure to keep her in place so she wouldn’t go too far.

“Fuck,” Caitlyn groaned from behind her. She could see everything from her angle: Maddie’s walls fluttering around her cock as she tried to accommodate the size, strings of Maddie’s arousal stretching out between her pussy and Cait’s hips each time she pulled out, Vi tangling a hand in Maddie’s hair as the pair in front of her sloppily made out, one of Maddie’s own hands slipping between Vi’s legs to play with her clit; the straps of the harness rubbing oh so well against her clit wasn’t making her situation any better. Shit, if she didn’t make Maddie cum before she did, she wouldn’t be able to fuck her the way she’d liked.

Caitlyn quickened her pace, fucking Maddie with short and deep thrusts that had the sound of skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. Her nails dug into Maddie’s waist, pulling the woman’s hips back to meet her with each push forward.

Maddie pulled away from Vi’s lips to look back at Cait.

“Fuck… Caitlyn you’re so deep…”

“Takin’ her like a fuckin’ champ,” Vi replied before Cait could, grabbing Maddie’s hair and pulling her back to her lips.

Caitlyn huffed, breaking her gaze away from the two women to focus on the strap fucking into Maddie. She was dripping onto the sheets at this point, and the dildo had a white ring around it.

“Damn it,” she grunted under her breath. She slowed her pace down, giving herself a chance to come down before she reached her peak too soon. 

Maddie whined against Vi’s lips, pushing her hips back as a wordless plea for more. Cait smacked her ass in reply, causing the ginger to yelp.

“You really are an impatient one, aren’t you?” Cait grumbled. “If you want to finish this prematurely, just say the word. I can grant you that request.”

Vi chuckled, pulling Maddie away from their kiss.

“Aw, you’re being so hard on her, Cupcake.” Vi grinned as she took in Maddie’s expression, heavy with unabashed desire, lips wet and bruised from their harsh kissing. “You’re fucking her so good, and she just wants more, isn’t that right, Mads?”

Maddie nodded, a strained sigh escaping her lips.

“Mmh, I can give you that… say aah…”

Vi slipped two fingers deep into Maddie’s mouth, biting her lip when she gagged on them. Vi didn’t leave them in there for long, pulling her fingers out and smirking when a string of saliva stretched out from her lips. Then, she slipped her hand down Maddie’s back and right in between her ass cheeks, using one of her fingers to circle the place Maddie’s never been touched before. Maddie gasped into the crook of Vi’s neck, whimpering as the redhead’s finger continued rimming her ass.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” Vi smirked. “Wonder if you’d even let me put it inside…?”

It was only a taunt, a teasing suggestion, but the way Maddie reacted to the possibility of having a finger in her ass turned it into a reality.

“Please,” she begged. “P-Put it in, Vi, please!”

Vi scoffed. “You’re something else, you know that, Nolen?”

Cait leaned forward just a bit, letting a dribble of spit fall right onto Maddie’s pucker. Vi teasingly pressed her middle finger against her, until Maddie pushed her hips back once more, showing that she really did want this.

Vi didn’t make her wait any longer, slowly pushing her middle finger into Maddie’s ass, right down to the knuckle. Maddie keened, her nails digging into Vi’s shoulders. At the same time, Cait gradually picked up her pace, fucking her pussy while Vi fingerfucked her ass.

Fuck, Maddie was on Cloud 9 right now. She couldn’t even think straight, the dual stimulation making her absolutely melt from pleasure. She was letting out incoherent babbles into Vi’s shoulder, completely unable to form full sentences. Suddenly, she felt a harsh hand tangle in her hair, and she was being pulled upwards. She had to hold herself up with her own hands, whimpering at the stinging sensation on her scalp. It was Cait’s hand, using her grip on Maddie’s hair to fuck her harder, deeper.

“I can’t believe one of my own subordinates turned out to be such a slut,” she huffed. “Letting Vi stick her finger in your ass? Needing both of us to satisfy you? You’re just insatiable, aren’t you?”

Maddie couldn’t even reply, each thrust of Cait’s dick and Vi’s finger knocking the wind out of her.

“Just look at her, Cupcake, she’s fucking addicted,” Vi added, “won’t be surprised if she starts following us around like some lost puppy.”

Maddie should’ve felt insulted, she really should’ve… but the couple was right. Her tryst with Caitlyn was quite enjoyable while it lasted, but having both of them… ‘fucking amazing’ couldn’t even begin to describe it.

Vi’s free hand snaked between Maddie’s legs to play with her clit, and it was over for her.

“Haa… I-I’m gonna cum!”

Maddie’s orgasm was powerful, so much so that she ended up squirting and soaking the bed sheets (and Vi) with her release. She trembled violently, wave after wave of aftershocks had her body pulsating. Caitlyn let go of her hair, and Maddie slumped against Vi’s chest, eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to catch her breath. Vi slipped her finger out, using both hands to massage Maddie’s waist.

Caitlyn, however, was not finished. After staving off her own orgasm for so long, she was right at the edge of release. She leaned over Maddie, grinding against her ass despite her weak whines of protest.

“Just take it Mads,” Vi shushed, “Let her cum first, she’s almost there.”

Maddie started to sob from overstimulation, one of her hands reaching back to grasp onto Caitlyn’s leg. Cait ignored her, squeezing her eyes shut as she only focused on getting herself over the edge. Her hips stuttered the closer she got, and she lost her rhythm, but soon she was groaning with bliss, her orgasm washing over her. She fucked herself through her orgasm until she physically couldn’t take it anymore, and she pulled the dildo out of Maddie with a slick ‘pop!’

Maddie slumped forward, dropping her hips to rest her entire weight on Vi. Caitlyn, on the other hand, slumped onto the mattress, silently catching her breath. 

“Well, that was fun…” Vi finally spoke after a while.

Caitlyn hummed, her lips forming into a tired smile. “Certainly…”

“What about you, Mads?” Vi asked the woman on her chest, only to be met with silence.

“Maddie…?”

Nothing but soft snores left Maddie’s lips, and Vi let out a soft chuckle. 

“Well, what do you know, we fucked her right to sleep.”

Caitlyn lifted herself up onto her elbow, resting her head in her hand. “I’m glad she enjoyed herself.”

Very gently, Vi turned to lay Maddie on the bed, before standing up. She put a hand out to Cat, who took it to stand as well. She helped Caitlyn take off the strap-on, even though she could very well remove it on her own.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

As their legs were still feeling the effects of their long fuck session, even the short walk to the bathroom had the couple walking funny.

“To be honest, I’m glad we did this,” Vi said as she turned on the warm water. “But y’know… really is a shame I didn’t get to eat you out myself…”

Cait was silent for a moment, her heart beating loudly in her chest at the flagrant suggestion. With a sigh, she poked her head out of the bathroom door, noting that Maddie was still fast asleep, before shutting the two of them in.

“Make sure you don’t wake her up,” Cait muttered, as Vi was already descending to her knees.

“Well, that’s all up to you, now isn’t it?”

okay so what did y'all think...? was it bonita?