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#this was so much fun! thank you for the ask!!
muwapsturniolo · 3 days
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✯𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐒𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥✯
IN WHICH... Chris experiences the best head of his life at the freak show.
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! switch!chris, dom!colby, cuck!colby, switch!reader. clowns, fire, alcohol, sexual escapades, oral (m receiving), slapping, choking.
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Chris doesn't know how he got into this situation.
One minute he was at a club in LA with his friends, then he was in some bedroom getting head from Tara's friends who works at the place.
Let's start from the beginning.
Chris was a bit on edge tonight.
The triplets had turned 21 about a week ago, and Tara and a few of their other friends (Sam and Colby, Jake and Johnny, Larray and Quen) had planned to take them to a club. Because Tara was the one who came up with the idea, she decided the club of the night should be ''FreakShow''.
When the triplets heard this, they were all put off by it.
Who names a club FreakShow?
With some convincing, Tara got them to agree. They arrived at the club and instantly were confused with the people they were seeing.
It looked like a rock show with how much leather and gothic faces they were met with. "Tara, what the fuck is this place?" Nick asked as they walked right past the security guard and into the club. Tara answers with a giggle, excitement coursing through her veins.
"Relax! Just have fun tonight!" Colby says clapping his hands and rubbing them together. The group walks through a tunnel that's illuminated in black light, wild scribbles on the wall catching their attention. Chris makes out some of the words scribbled on the wall and he chuckles to himself.
They approach a door where a girl in a clown outfit and face paint greets them. "Tara! Long time no see! How are you?" The girls voice is a bit high-pitched, fitting her clown costume.
"Janey! I know I've been so busy but I brought some new friends since they just turned 21!" The girl, now known as Janey, eyes the triplets. It's as if her mood switches, her body movement becoming more animated. She gives a wide creepy smile showing off her sharp yellow teeth.
"Well, Tara you know the rules. Each new person has to tell the freakiest thing they have done, after all this is the FreakShow."
The triplets immediately look at Tara, their eyes wide. "Tara you did not tell us this!" Everyone laughs as the boys begin to freak out. "Oh calm down! there are no cameras or anything, and this place is free of judgment! Look I'll even say mine!" Tara turned back to Janey and smiled, "I made out with Y/n and Jake watched!" Jake nods along, proving the statement is true.
"Ok, now you guys go! Hurry up I don't want to miss Y/n's show."
The brothers look at each other, speaking with their eyes.
"Fuck it! I blew a guy in the locker room during a fire drill." Nick states.
Chris chokes on his spit hearing Nick's confession. He remembers that day and how Nick was talking about a sore throat. Now he knows why. "Matt your turn," Nick says waving his hand, not wanting the attention to stay on him.
"Umm... Can I like whisper it to you?" He asks Janey. She nods and takes a step closer, allowing Matt to whisper in her ear. She pulls away with an eyebrow raised. "I'm going to find you later, you seem fun to play with." Matt blushes and turns to Chris waiting for him to go.
"Umm, I had sex with a girl wearing a Ghostface mask?" Janey smiles at the group and unlocks the metal door, letting them through with a bow, "Have fun at the FreakShow."
Tara thanked her before pushing the group through the doors.
The sight they are met with is almost scandalous. Multiple people in revealing outfits. Most of them are clown-themed, and others are just straight-up lingerie. Like Janey, some of the faces are covered in paint, and their hair being done up in crazy ways.
There are girls and guys on stages, some dancing on poles and others just dancing provocatively. There are some people in cages and others on aerial hoops.
"This is like a fucking circus!"
Chris states holding onto Larray tightly when a girl walks past him with a snake. Tara guides them to a section that's blocked off and has a perfect view of the stage. Chris immediately notices a wide variety of liquor on the table with a placement card that reads Tara's name.
They sit down and begin to drink, the alcohol instantly loosening Chris up and making him relax.
The group laughs and talks, pointing out the different acts of the "freaks" around them.
"She just shoved a knife down her throat! I definitely think I cou-Holy shit!" Nick jumps back into his seat as a girl walks by, blowing fire out of her mouth. She cackles before bouncing away, literally.
A bit of time passes before a loud voice resembling the Jokers comes over the intercom.
"Tonight we have a special show for you freaks, created by our one and only Y/n, a true freak herself. She loves to scare, and she loves to make all genders crumble. Try not to drool and try not to cream." He lets out a manic laugh that makes some of the crowd uneasy, and the rest shout.
A loud bass fills the club, shaking the whole floor. Chris could feel his insides vibrating along with the bottles on the table. His eyes dart to the stage as the familiar lyrics all over Tiktok makes it's way through his ears.
"Go, go, go, go Head so good, she a honor roll She'll ride the dick like a carnival I done did the impossible!"
A bunch of contorted bodies crawl onto the stage, sending a shiver up Chris's spine. He watches their ragged but hypnotizing movements, the way some of them flip and bend intriguing him.
He sits up seeing an aerial hoop descending down onto the stage, a body attached to it.
"That's Y/n!" Tara shouts as she jumps up from the couch, clapping excitedly.
Y/n does a bunch of tricks on the hoop that has the crowd shouting in encouragement.
Pain all in my eyes, I can't see, huh I'm 'bout to jump out my body, I'm ready to leap, uh
She hangs upside down from the hoop by her legs, two of the dancers beginning to spin her.
Dollar signs all in my dreams, I don't never see Z's, whoa, whoa-whoa That swag cover my body like it's a disease, whoa, whoa-whoa
She sensually lowers her body from the hoops and crawls on the runway of the stage, almost like a lion getting ready to pounce on its prey.
Go, go, go, go Head so good, she a honor roll She'll ride the dick like a carnival I done did the impossible
When she gets to the end of the runway, she arches her back, stretching her arms forward like a cat.
She stands quickly and does backhand springs until she lands in the center of the stage, the rest of the dancers circling around her. One of them grabs her neck, yanking it back harshly and pouring a liquid into her mouth.
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go
She blows bright pink flames from her mouth, the pyrotechnics on the stage following her lead. Everyone screams in shock as the song ends.
"She finally did it! Holy shit!"
The girl smiles and gives her final bow, blowing a kiss to the crowd before cartwheeling off the stage.
"That was different," Matt says after he stops clapping. The club resumes with random songs playing and people continuing their partying. " Y/n always puts on good shows! Never a disappointment."
Colby jumps feeling a pair of hands caress his chest before sliding down, "Aww you flatter me Colby." Tara squeals seeing her best friend. As the girl walks around the couch, Chris takes the time to examine her. Her outfit consists of black ripped fishnets, a bright pink thong that is covered by a black leather mini skirt, and a leather bikini top that presses her boobs together. Her hair was in some kind of style Chris couldn't exactly name, but it suited her. Her makeup wasn't the craziest he'd seen tonight, but it was still enough to pique his interest considering she had one-star eye-contact in, as well as concealed eyebrows. Her feet were covered in black chunky boots that made her seem taller than she actually was.
She plops down in Colby's lap, smiling at Tara. "So I take it we liked the show?"
Everyone begins to hype her up, expressing how good it was. "I'm glad you all loved it! I had to practice my fire blowing for weeks!"
Suddenly Y/n's eyes fall on the three boys, "I've never seen you three before." Her eyes stay on Chris, making him quickly look away. "They are my friends! They just turned 21 and I wanted them to have a fun night! This is Nick, Matt, and Chris!" Tara explains.
Y/n hums and leans back into Colby who is rubbing her thighs through her fishnets.
"Are you three having fun?"
Chris is too busy watching Colby’s hands, he doesn't answer her, leaving Nick and Matt to do so. "This place is very ...different?" Y/n laughs at Nick's descriptive words.
"It is different, that's the joy of it all. A place for any and everyone who might be into the weird things to come in and relax, have fun, unleash their inner freak."
"What are you into?" Chris suddenly asks.
"Ask Colby what I'm into." Chris’s eyes dart to Colby who is cheesing hard. "Oh yeah, this one is crazy. She asked me to hold a knife to her throat a couple of times."
"Girl what? You're insane." Nick says shaking his head. She does nothing but wink before leaning forward and grabbing a cup of alcohol. Chris can't help but watch the way some of the liquid spills out the side of the cup, and falls down her glimmering breasts.
"Oh my god wait! I haven't seen you in so long! I saw you got your tongue split! let me see!" Quen shouts over the music.
Y/n cheeses and opens her mouth, letting the split tongue fall out of her mouth.
Chris thought he would have been disgusted with the muscular organ, but he found himself adjusting how he was sitting, attempting to hide his rising boner.
Colby notices instantly and smirks to himself, plotting.
“I don’t know if I find it cool or weird,” Larray states, poking the tongue in the process. “It hurt like a bitch but it’s so fun now! I can tie a cherry stem now…I also got to eat a girl out and she said it felt amazing.”
“Wait I need to see the cherry thing!”
She takes a cherry from the jar on the table and puts it in her mouth, chewing on the bittersweet fruit before moving her tongue around.
Chris can’t help but imagine what the split tongue would feel like on his tip, wrapped around both sides as she-
“Done!” She sticks her tongue out, the tied stem on display.
Chris sucks in a sharp breath and abruptly stands up, “I-I have to go to the bathroom.” He announces, walking off without another word.
“Y/n you should show him where the bathroom is.” Colby suggests.
Y/n isn’t dumb, she had seen Chris looking at her and trying to hide his boner since she sat down on Colby’s lap.
She gives Colby a look before standing up and strutting off, her eyes set on Chris. She slides infront of him making him stumble back, “let me show you to the bathroom.” She doesn’t give him an option, grabbing his hand and leading him through the club.
They walk through a dimly lit hallway before she pushes him through a curtain.
“T-this isn’t the bathroom.” He mumbles looking around the room. He notices a bed and his heart begins to race.
“I know.” The smile she gives is anything but innocent. She walks closer to him, her taller stature towering over him. “I also know you were only going to the bathroom to jerk off.”
She trails an acrylic finger down his chest before stopping at his belt,
“Tell me Chris, do you like freaks? Cause I like freaks too.”
Her eyes dart up, making the boy gulp as a sheer sheet of sweat forms on his forehead. She leans down and whispers in his ear, “I’m not stupid, I saw the way you were looking at me, especially my tongue.” She allows the split muscle to lightly lick his ear.
His face burns a bright pink as he whimpers. “Come on, you know you want to.” She taunts as her hand lightly begins to palm him.
“W-what about Colby?”
“What about me?”
Y/n whips around and smiles seeing the tall boy. He walks over and stands behind her, wrapping his large hand around her throat. “Is this s-some kind of joke? Aren’t you guys dating?” Chris asks looking at the two, his heart beating out of his chest.
“Dating? Nooo, me and this one just like to have fun sometimes.” Y/n giggles and nods along to Colby’s words, her hand still palming Chris.
Colby lets go of Y/n and walks over to a chair in the corner, taking a seat. “Now, I’m giving you the opportunity to have fun tonight.”
“Come on Chris, don’t you want to have fun?” Y/n tags on.
Chris looks over to Colby who nods, giving him the ok to agree.
"Yeah...Ok"
Y/n grins sadistically before grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pushing the boy back on the bed. Chris is looking at her as if she’s crazy, he’s never been manhandled by a girl before and he didn’t expect it to turn him on this much.
She crawls over him before settling down on his lap, grinding down on his erection. His hands fly to her hips as he lets out a barely audible moan.
“Tell me what you want pretty boy,” she continues to grind her hips, her own wetness spreading through her folds.
“He wants your mouth,” Colby answers as he palms himself through his jeans. She grins down at Chris, tilting her head to the side.
“You want my mouth?” She leans down, watching his eyes dart to her lips. She sees the temptation in his eyes and she feeds into it. She grabs hold of his jaw and plants her lips against his.
He squeezes her sides tightly as she pushes her tongue in his mouth, a chill running up his spine as he feels the split muscle fighting against his own tongue.
“Quit teasing him,” Colby demands. Y/n pulls away from Chris with an eye roll and looks at Colby.
“I’m not teasing him, it’s called foreplay. Maybe you forgot since everyone else you fuck is trash.” Her bratty response causes Colby to rise to his feet. He yanks her off of Chris and forces her to her knees.
He grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back and looking down at her smirking face.
"She's a brat Chris, always wanting to press your buttons and get you worked up until you go over the deep end-"
Chris's eyes widen for what seems like the umpteenth time this night seeing Colby slap the girl on her knees. Her face whips to the side but her chesire smile never leaves.
He does it again, and again, and again, until Y/n is sniffling softly, her smile slowly falling. Colby grabs hold of her jaw and forces her head upward, "are you done being a brat?"
"Yes," she answers obediently, her once playful and seductive tone replaced with a submissive one.
Colby takes the initiative and shoves Y/n's face into Chris's hard-on, the bulge pressing against her aching cheek.
"Now be good and suck him off. We both know you've been wanting to try that new modification out."
Chris stays frozen, this whole situation being new to him. He doesn't know what to do besides sit and watch.
"Now!" The girl jumps and hastily begins to unbutton Chris's belt. He lifts himself up, aiding her in pulling both his pants and boxers down.
His cock springs up and Y/n can feel her mouth salivating, her lips parting slightly as she examines the phallus.
She grabs the base and inches forward, holding eye contact as she spits on his tip. He whimpers at the feeling on his tip, the whimper turning into a soft moan as she begins to pump.
His moans are like music to her ears, egging her on. They differ from Colby, more soft and a bit shy. Colby's is deep and more dominant. She figures it's because he's not in his element of control in the bedroom, not used to having a girl calling the shot and handling him how she sees fit.
She loves it.
He flinches feeling both sides of her tongue running up his shaft. She wraps her plump lips around his swollen tip, swirling her tongue around it. Suddenly her head is pushed down and held in place, shocking both her and Chris.
Chris groans and clenches his eyes shut feeling her throat clench around him.
"What did I say about teasing? Suck his dick the right way or I'm not fucking you tonight."
The threat of not being fucked into the mattress after not seeing Colby for a month gets to her.
She doesn't hold back, immediately bobbing her head and slobbering all over him.
Chris can feel his soul leaving his body, his toes curling as her split tongue adds even more pleasure. It felt better than he could imagine.
"Shit!" He doesn't know if he wants to push her away or let her continue the assault on his dick. As she begins to fondle his balls, he bucks his hips forward, his dick hitting the back of her throat. He panics thinking he hurt her but stops realising,
She didn't gag.
She didn't gag when Colby pushed her head down either.
She doesn't have a gag reflex.
"You can be rough with her Chris, don't be scared. She likes being used, isn't that right?"
Chris sucks in a sharp breath and bites his lip as the girl moans around him, confirming Colby's words. She pulls away from him, a wide and deranged smile on her face.
"Fuck my mouth Chris, I know you want to." She kitten licks his tip, pushing him to break.
And he does just that.
His hand finds its way to the back of her head, gripping the pink hair and pushing her head back down.
He begins to fuck her mouth, not hard enough to hurt her (his actions still unsure to him), but hard enough to make spit pool out of her mouth.
The drool mixed with precum falls out the side of her mouth, some getting on the bed, some falling on her chest, and the rest trickling down his shaft.
His grunts and moans along with the lewd slurping noises bounce off the walls of the room as his thrusts become more erratic, chasing his orgasm.
She can tell he's close, feeling his dick twitching in her mouth, the way his stomach caves in with the harsher he breathes.
She pushes his hands away and lifts her head, "cum in my mouth pretty boy, you know you want to."
She swirls her tongue around his tip, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
"Ah sh-" Chris cuts himself off with a loud groan and shoves her head all the way down. She feels the cum hit the back of her throat, sliding down with ease.
She pulls off of him with a pop and licks her lips, watching Chris breathe heavily.
She pulls him down and begins to make out with him, standing up slowly and crawling on top of him.
She's hungry for him now, wanting to experience his girth inside of her. Before she could even begin to remove her fishnets, Colby stops them, "Not so quick pretty girl." She stops and looks at Colby, still grinding down on Chris. She watches as he approaches them.
"You think you get to fuck two people tonight?" She giggles, moving off of Chris and closer to Colby, "Greedy girl. He can't even handle you and you want to play with him." He snatches her by her neck and leans closer before planting his lips against hers.
chris watches as the two make out next to him, his body buzzing with adrenaline. "You wanna give Chris a show? Hm? You want to show him how to handle you for next time?" Y/n nods eagerly, not even paying attention to what Colby is saying, just wanting to be fucked dumb.
"Sit on the chair Chris, you're going to learn how to fuck her just how she likes it."
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can yall tell where i lowkey gave up? 😭 lmao sorry.
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ohsuguru · 2 days
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hi li shen i’m so late forgive me pls 👴🏽: can i request edging with gojo? making her describe in detail what she wants even tho he knows bc he’s a bastard like that
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satoru who gets his girlfriend to voice her wants in bed, even if it meant edging it out of her ⁀ ❣︎
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˚ʚ minors, ageless and blank blogs dni! ɞ˚
cw: p in v, unprotected sex (pls wrap before you tap), edging, thigh job, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, mean satoru
an: omg omg hihi ❣︎ thanks so much for requesting naomi (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚i hope i did your request justice hehe i had so much fun writing it !! i kept getting inspired the more i wrote so thank you again for sending it ~
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"use your words, princess," that sultry, sweet coo of your boyfriend's voice flits to your ears as his large hands guide your hips against his length. "i've taught you well, haven't i?"
your back is pressed against his toned chest, sweat pooling at the bottom of your spine, head thrown back against his broad shoulder. all the motor neurons in your body twitch with arousal and frustration when you feel satoru's cockhead catch against your aching hole before it slips past once again, his mushroom tip peek-a-booing between your thighs.
"uhm– uh–" your mind tries to formulate your instructions to satoru, but it feels like your brain is smothered in cotton, fluffy and dampening your senses - so much so that the only thing you can think of is the way your lover's fingers grip your hips slightly harder to drag you back to reality.
"i jus'- jus' need youu," you hiccup, your voice pitchy and cloying all for satoru's ears.
he couldn't help but think that this was all your fault, really. who asked you to sound so fucked out and lewd, like a siren beckoning him to the depths of your flesh, goading him to sink his throbbing cock into your soft and warm core. who asked you to sound so needy that he can't help but want to edge you and edge you and edge you?
"i know that, baby girl," satoru hums, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he slows down his movements, the drop in friction making you push your hips down against his length, trying to get him to pick his speed back up. "but i need you to tell me exactly what you want. i don't know what goes on in that pretty head of yours."
you can't help but dig your nails into the pale skin of his arms, a frustrated whine leaving your drool-slicked, kiss-bitten lips.
"i- i want you in me," you try again, making your instructions clearer for the cheeky white-haired sorcerer. "wan' you to fill me up."
"yes, but what do you want in you, princess?" he giggles - the audacity of this man to giggle - his large hand dragging up your body to tilt your head to face him as his other one disappears down between your thighs. 
"do you want my fingers?" he continues, his thick digits swirling against your swollen clit, your boyfriend humming when he feels that pearly nub twitch and harden under his touch. he swirls it, and circles it before he parts your lower lips, index and middle finger spreading your sensitive flesh.
the spreading of your labia slots his thick length against you more, coating his cock in more your sweetened juices as he bucks his hips, the sudden action jolting that squeak he loves so much.
"or do you want my cock?" satoru grins lecherously, his twinkling blue eyes taking in your lewd expression. the fingers on your face push your maw apart, forcing you to speak.
"your cock! satoru, please," you immediately plead, voice cracking, eyebrows pinching into the middle of your forehead, sweat pricking at your hairline. "pretty please."
"see? that wasn't so hard now, was it?"
of course, satoru wouldn't praise you for voicing your wants, not when he knew exactly what you needed. your boyfriend knew your body better than you did, where to push your buttons, how to bend and mold your body to his needs and desires.
but what he never said in words, he always made up with his actions.
satoru pushes his aching length into your warm pussy, the sensation dragging out a satisfied moan from the two of you. but what you don't realise through your lust-filled haze is that satoru had also been edging himself as much as he has been edging you. the self-restraint this man has is unwavering, especially when it came to you. 
satoru was long, veiny, and had the most wicked curve to his cock, pressing against that sweet spot within your cunt without him even needing to try.
carved by the gods, just for you.
but just when you thought his edging marathon was over, he completely stills in you, dick buried to the hilt in your gummy walls.
"what do you want now, princess?" satoru asks, head tilting to the side like a cat who's cornered a mouse. "and i need you to tell me in painful detail, okay, baby?"
you swallow thickly, core stretched out around him as you try to take charge instead, pushing your hips down. the veins on his cock drags against your gummy walls, pulling out a relieved whine from your lips as you ride his dick slightly, a reprieve, a shining light at the end of the tunnel.
until satoru completely snuffs it out by gripping your hips strongly, completely stilling your movement. 
"nuh-uh, baby," he tsks through a mischievous giggle. "you gotta listen to me. so i'm going to ask you again, whaddya want?"
"ugh– i want– i want you t'fuck me," you groan out, eyes fluttering as your mind plays out first what you wanted before your pretty voice tells satoru. "i want you to– to use me, roughly..."
"and then?" he probes, a shiver travelling down his spine when you finally give in to what your lover wants. hearing you talk so dirtily always made him harder than a rock. his fingers travel down to your pussy, using your body almost as a fidget toy, tapping your clit idly, a tacky sound echoing through the room.
"i wanna feel your– your cock drag through my cunt. tip fucking my cervix and your fingers playing with my clit, and– and– and then i want you t'fill me up with your cum–"
"woah, princess," he cuts you off, head dropping to your neck as he drags his tongue up the expanse of your throat, committing the taste of your skin to his mind as if he could never get enough of it. "aren't you a lewd thing? who knew you had such a dirty mouth on ya? you've been hiding that from–"
"satoru, just fuck me!"
and to get your point across even more, you clench around him tightly, trying to get him to move along. your boyfriend did always talk too much sometimes.
"jeez, okay," satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, his hand leaving your hips briefly to run it through his dampened hair. "but just so you know, you asked for this."
satoru immediately flips you onto your front, smushing your face into his pillow as he pistons his hips into yours. it's salacious, the sounds that he's dragging out from your body, squelch after squelch, your moans muffled by his pillow as you bite down into it, drool pooling from the sides of your mouth.
he fucked you like a rabid dog, leg propped up beside your perked-up ass, using that leverage to do exactly what you wanted. his bulbous tip drags through your cunt, stretching it out for the rest of his length, veiny skin adding to the friction of it all. his fingers move to your clit, bullying the swollen nub, pinching and circling it, pooling arousal from your body which creates a white ring at the base of his cock, the sight sinful and arousing for your boyfriend.
"toru– hahh– thank you, s'ank you!" your words melt into an almost incoherent babble as your orgasm flares up quickly after being edged for so long. satoru pushes your back down more, arching your body up as he gives your ass a spank, getting you to keep that position. the zing of pain jolts your body, sending your pussy clenching around him more, sucking him into your cervix.
the curve in his dick smushes against your g-spot, sloppily making out with it until you momentarily pass out with a loud cry of his name, bed rocking with the pure force of your orgasm, body going completely limp if it wasn't for the way satoru was holding your hips up.
your squirt completely sends him over the edge as he finishes soon after, painting your wet insides with white-hot cum, filling you up to the brim just like you asked. so much so, it seeps out of your sopping cunt despite his dick still buried inside, his gaze trained on the mix of your essences dripping out.
satoru pulls out his softening cock, the plug of his length no longer keeping everything inside as it bubbles out of your twitching hole which causes him to tch unhappily. 
"i thought you said you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, princess. i guess i better stuff my fingers in you to keep it there, huh?"
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benkeibear · 2 days
Text
⋆꙳✧༄ Faking an orgasm
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꒰ ͜͡➸ How they react (and punish) you for faking an orgasm
❖ Characters: Geto, Gojo, Toji
❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB
❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), reader getting called "Angel", "bunny", "baby"
❖ A/n: Don't wanna miss a post? Sign up for my taglist in my Navi! || Repost bc community label after 5 seconds
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☰ Geto:
ꕤ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was at the moment
ꕤ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter
ꕤ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act
ꕤ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back
ꕤ You pouted at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head
ꕤ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he didn't believe that fake orgasm
ꕤ Before you were able to explain yourself to him, he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it.”
ꕤ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now
ꕤ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer
ꕤ “Go ahead, dove, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips
ꕤ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted
ꕤ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your weeping cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers
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☰ Gojo:
ꕤ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it
ꕤ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice
ꕤ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked
ꕤ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face
ꕤ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm
ꕤ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release
ꕤ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas you needed him so desperately
ꕤ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but oh so turned on
ꕤ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now
ꕤ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment
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☰ Toji:
ꕤ RIP to your little kitty
ꕤ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after
ꕤ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts so you fake it
ꕤ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandles you into a mating press
ꕤ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper
ꕤ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it
ꕤ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots and it made you lose your mind
ꕤ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as degrading words fell from his lips
ꕤ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful
ꕤ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't even get the satisfaction of being filled
ꕤ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return
ꕤ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
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Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
------
You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
Note
doing grocery shopping with the batboys
Could you write something fun and fluff please?
is one of my favorite activities.
I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.
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Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️
Dick:
You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)
Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.
Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;
‘Dick?’
A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’
He was in the pet section. again.
You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’
You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.
The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.
However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.
Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.
Jason:
Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.
And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.
‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.
‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.
‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.
You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.
Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.
His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.
How sweet of him.
(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)
Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!
He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’
You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.
Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.
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wandussyfantasy · 3 days
Note
request (i hope its still open)
powerbottom!Wanda x Beefy G!P reader
(this is gonna be kinda long and dirty so be prepared)
Reader and Wanda are both college students who have been mutual pining each other, Wanda tells Nat that she likes reader and really wants to get down and dirty with them but doesn't know what to do Nat gives Wanda these chocolates (which is like those sex Viagra chocolate things) and tells Wanda to invite reader over for a movie night and share the chocolate, and that leads to hella sexual tension and they both can't hold it in anymore and fuck, Wanda rides readers abs and also handcuffs reader to the bed and she teases reader a lot and after a while reader just wants to touch Wanda so bad that they break the handcuffs which turns Wanda on even more and they fuck hard, lots of overstimulation and maybe some breeding (also maybe some fluff at the end as well as reader wants to live in this moment forever so reader uses Wanda's polaroid cam to take a pic of her naked and saves it in their wallet)
sorry this is long but if you do decide to write it just have fun with it and add your own stuff as well, love your fics <3
Study Date
Summary: Wanda and Reader have wanted each other for so long. Natasha, being the good friend that she is, helps the two speed things along and realize just how much they want each other.
Pairings: Wanda x NB!AMAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,767
WARNINGS:
18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!
smut, gn!reader shapeshifter, powerbottom!lwanda, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, fantasies, teasing, foreplay, and creampie.
𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
“Hey Wanda, I noticed you weren't in class today. I thought I'd lend you my notes,” you say as you hand the pretty girl from your expository writing class your notebook. She smiles as she accepts your offering. 
“Awe, you're so sweet! You didn't have to do that! Thank you, I'll type this up and get it back to you as soon as possible,” she says. You smile back and tell her to take her time. The conversation falls flat but you don't want to stop talking to her. You stand there awkwardly as you try to think of something to keep the conversation going. Wanda was doing the same, she didn't want you to leave. She wanted to keep talking to you. She always wants to talk to you. “Hey, I heard there is going to be a party this weekend. My brother is hosting it so I'm going to be there and so will other people. Because it's a party! And that's how… anyway are you going?” Wanda asks nervously as she fiddles with the notebook in her hands. Natasha tries her best to not be repulsed by Wanda’s bad attempt at asking you out. She had no idea that her friend was crushing so hard on someone, let alone you. 
“Nah, I have a lot of studying to do,” you reply without giving the invitation much thought. “Maybe another time? This semester has been kicking my ass and I might lose my scholarship if I don't get my grades up.” You admit as you shift on your feet awkwardly. 
Wanda frowns and looks hopeless. Natasha rolls her eyes and then cuts in. “Wanda is a fantastic tutor,” she says. “Maybe you should ask her to tutor you,” she spells it out for you when all you said was cool. 
“I mean. Um. Would you have time to? I would really appreciate it,” you say as you gesture at Wanda. 
“Uh,” she looks at her friend.
“She is available tonight,” Natasha offers up. “I have plans so she’ll be alone in the dorm.” Natasha scribbles down information on a piece of paper and hands it off to you. “Let’s go,” she grabs Wanda and pulls her away. 
“See you later!” You shout at them as they leave. 
Natasha shakes her head as they continue to walk away. “That was pathetic,” she says to her friend. “I know you’re new to flirting but,” she starts as she opens the door for their dorm building. “That was not flirting. That was just… sad.” 
Wanda shakes her head, “I know. I know. I’ve never liked anyone the way I like Y/n before. I want them in ways that I’ve never wanted anyone before.” She presses her palm to her forehead as she blushes.  
“Like, losinging your v-card type of want?” Natasha’s eyes widen as her voice lowers while they walk to the elevators. “You hardly wanted to lose it to your Vision! And you were with him for three years!” 
“I know!” Wanda says as they enter the elevator. “But gosh, there is something about Y/n that has me,” she stops as someone enters the elevator. She puts her hand on Natasha’s shoulder and sends her a mind message to continue the conversation privately. “I’ve had several wet dreams about Y/n since I saw them running around the track field shirtless.” 
Natasha looks at Wanda with wide eyes and thinks, “They had their titties out on the field?” 
Wanda shakes her head. “No, they have a shapshifting ability. It’s why they prefer they/them pronouns because they can shift their physical appearance to how they feel they that day. And that day it was a male chest and it was strong and sweaty and-”
“Ok! I don’t need to know anymore. But that is quite an ability, I’m sure a lot of gender nonconforming people would love to have an ability like that.” She said out loud as they stepped out of the elevator. Wanda agreed. 
“I think they can do more but I could hardly focus. I started to imagine the possibilities and I was just happy mind reading isn’t one of their abilities.” Wanda says as they enter the dorm. 
“I’m glad it’s not an ability of mine either,” Natasha says as she opens the mini fridge. She flips through the different types of chocolate bars that she owns and smiles when she finds the one she it looking for. “I’ve been saving this for a rainy day and honey, it’s getting pretty cloudy.” She hands the chocolate bar over to Wanda. 
“Oh, I’ve been craving chocolate all day!” Natasha stops her roommate from eating the candy.
“Woah, not so fast. Wait for your date tonight. Share it with Y/n,” she suggests. 
“Why?” Wanda makes a weird face as she tries to figure out what is special about the unlabeled candy. 
“Just trust me,” Natasha quickly puts on a special bracelet that prevents anyone with telepathic or empathic abilities from entering her mind and she smiles as she flashes it at Wanda. “The less you know, the better.” She starts to gather her belongings. “I will be out all night. I gave Y/n your phone number so you should be receiving a text or something soon.” She looks around the room to assure herself that she has everything she needs. “Good luck, Wanda. I hope it all goes well. Just please don’t use my bed.” 
Wanda rolled her eyes at the bracelet and smiled at her friends departing words. The hug each other, “Thank you.” Natasha leaves the room. Wanda flops onto her bed as she waits for you to text her. She thinks about the times she’s seen you half-naked and sweating. How she’s wished to have your body on top of hers. Wanda bites her bottom lip as she fights the urge to slip her fingers between her legs and imagine that they are yours. 
Her phone pings with a notification and she springs up to look at it. It’s you asking what time you should arrive. She licks her lips she tries to make a flirty response but she ends up cringing at everything she types. She settles on just telling you to meet her an hour from now and flops back onto her bed with a sigh. She needed to get it together because in anhour you would be in her room and you needed tutoring. And some how she needed to work in sharing the mysterious chocolate bar with you. 
Wanda changed into something a little more suggestive and flashed on a set of lingerie underneath, just in case she became brave enough to try something with you. She cleaned up the room a bit and lit a candle that was enchanted to keep sound in any room that it was lit in. She doesn’t know why but she has a feeling she’s going to get her way and she won’t be quiet about it when she does. 
“Smells nice in here,” You say as you enter Wanda’s room. She shuts the door behind you. 
“Thank you, it’s a new candle I made. I kind of got into the trend,” she says sheepishly as she stands behind you. There wasn’t room for a sofa in the dorm room so there isn’t one. There was only beds and desk chairs as seating options. “You can sit at my desk,” she points to the desk that is between the beds. 
“Thanks,” you say with a blush, “Um, if you’re selling your candles, I would love to buy some from you.” Wanda’s cheeks flush bright pink as well as she sits on her bed. 
“I think I have a couple that I can gift you,” she smiles as she gets comfortable. “Alright, so what subject are we starting with?” She asks as you are pulling assignments out of your bookbag and setting them on her desk. She looks at the chocolate bar that was left on her bed and tries to think of how she can offer it to you without it seeming weird. 
“Um chemistry has been brutal,” you say as you organize yourself. You try to keep your eyes on the work in front of you because her shirt was tighter than the one you saw her in a couple of hours ago. It was hard enough to be around her when she had loose fitting clothing on. Now that it was accentuating her chest, you thought you might pass out. 
“Chemistry happens to be my strongest subject!” Wanda says as she leans over to look at your papers. She quickly gets into helping learn the formulas that you struggled with as well as a lot of the vocabulary that you had mixed up. Deep into the study session, Wanda starts to mindlessly break off pieces of the chocolate bar and eat it. 
You accept the pieces that she offers and by the time you've moved onto math, the chocolate bar is gone. You start to feel even hornier than when first walked in but you try to focus on the subject.
“It's kind of hot in here,” Wanda says as she fans herself with her hand. She doesn't know why but her body is on fire. Her clothes feel horrible on her skin but she can't take it off. Not with you here. Oh but she wishes she could convince you to take your clothes off. 
“Yeah, it um it is,” you shift uncomfortably as your eyes land on her glistening chest. Wanda’s eyes are glued to your chest as well. The sweat on your body was causing the white fabric of your shirt to become see through. The shirt was clinging to your abs, exposing your six-pack. “Maybe I should um-” 
“Fuck me,” Wanda gasps out as she bites her lips. “I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from I-” You cut her off with your lips. Finally kissing her after spending the past few years pining for her. Wanda responds to the kiss just as eagerly. She pulls on your shirt to pull you closer to her until you land on top of her. Your body against hers on her bed. She couldn't think of anything but your lips and your body. She needs you. She needs you now. 
“Are you sure,” you try to slow down your kisses. “We can stop at any moment,” you say as you try to catch your breath. Her lips start sucking on your neck and you let out a soft loud groan. 
“Why would I want to do that?” She says as she rips your shirt in the middle. You are surprised by her urgency. You didn't know that Wanda even liked you. “Wow,” Wanda gasps as she admires your naked chest. She unhooks your bra and her eyes grow hungrier at the sight. You get rid of the rest of the fabric of your shirt and toss it to the floor. You roll off of Wanda and lay next to her to start to get rid of your pants. You had most of your abilities down but when it came to sexual urges, there was one thing you couldn't control completely. That was the cock that is currently growing and will soon be straining against your jeans. 
But before you can unbuckle your belt, Wanda climbs onto your chest and kisses you on the mouth again. “I have an idea,” she says against your lips as she holds your face in her delicate hands. 
“Mmm, please share,” you say as you kiss along her jaw. She maneuvers you so that you are laying properly on the bed. Then with magic, she chains you to the bed. Wanda removes her tight shirt and short shorts to reveal the red lace bra and the black thong. Your eyes widen at her lingerie. You never thought in your wildest dreams that you would be here. 
Wanda straddles your hips and you groan at the contact of her skin against yours. Her thighs rest against your sides. Her pussy juices drip through her thong and land on your stomach as she starts to gyrate her hips on your abs. You watch her breasts bounce as she moves on your abdomen and you lick your lips as you think about touching her. About sucking on her breasts. Licking her smooth stomach. Wanda puts her hand on your breasts as she continues to use your abs to create friction. You moan as she plays with your nipples. She makes eye contact with you as she leans in close to you. She makes you think she's good to kiss you but then her hips slide down and her pussy starts to ride your bulge as her lips kiss your neck. 
“Fuck” you his as her lips move to your collarbone. She sucks on your skin lightly as she makes shapes with her tongue. You imagine her sucking your cock and it causes you to thrust your hips into her middle. She yelps and looks at you. Her pupils have taken over her emerald eyes as she takes your breast into her mouth. “Wanda,” you beg as you thrust your hips up again. She takes her mouth off of your chest as she sits up again. Teasing you by slowly removing her bra. You groan again as you fight against your magical restraints. When her breasts are exposed, Wanda drops her hands to your belt. She unbuckles the accessory and unbuttons your jeans. She pulls your zipper down and stops there. 
Wanda drags her fingers at the top of the waistband of your boxers. She is driving you crazy. When she slips her fingers into your boxers you can't take it anymore. With your super strength, you break the magic handcuffs off and grab Wanda and flip the two of you so that you're on top. “That was hot,” Wanda says as she kisses you again. 
You get lost in her lips as your hands touch her everywhere. You have them on her hips then on her breasts then on her ass. Her skin is so soft and you want to touch every inch of her. You begin to suck on her neck as you move to explore her body with your lips. She sighs and moans when you reach especially sensitive spots on her body. Her hands continue to trace the ridges of your chest. You drop her breast from your mouth and grin. “You like what you feel?” 
Wanda blushes as she grows a bit shy. “I’ve been dreaming about them,” she says with pink cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just want to appreciate them while I have them.” She reaches up and kisses your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she starts to suck on your neck again. Her hands start to trail further down your body. She starts to push your pants and underwear further down until your cock bounces out. You moan from the relief. Her eyes widen at the sight. Her ex-boyfriend was a super computer that looked like a Ken-doll in the private area. She’s only seen dicks online and none of them come close to what is laying against her stomach. She couldn’t imagine how it was supposed to fit inside her virgin hole. She is surprised that fear isn’t controlling her nearly as much as it has in the past. But she can’t keep the thought as you roll your hips and the base of your cock grazes her clitoris just right. Her lips latch to yours again. You are typically someone that likes to take it slow but something has your body buzzing with energy and taking over your actions. 
Wanda’s hand wraps around your cock and you roll your hips into her soft hand. You have imagined her jerking you off before. It was in a car or in a closet or at a movie and it was always after or during a date. It wasn’t this fast, or this amazing. Your hand doesn’t compare to hers. You have to pull away as you feel yourself near your edge. 
“I’ve dreamt about you too,” you whisper against her lips. You fall lower on her body until your head is between her thighs. You kiss her left thigh first then her right. Wanda wimpers each time your lips press against her thighs. With your tongue you trace letters along her thighs claiming her as yours. “I’ve wanted to be in this position since I saw you at the freshman mixer,” you admit as you drag your tongue along the crevice between her thigh and vulva on her right side. “But you were taken for two  more years after that.”  You lick the left side and Wanda licks her lips as she watches you tease her. 
“Now I’m yours,” she says desperatley, “I’m all yours.” Her fingers lock into your short hair as she pulls you closer to her pussy. “Show me your deepest desires, Y/n.” You nod as you put your mouth on her entrance. You slip your tongue inside of her and use your abilities to have a deeper reach. Wanda’s eyes widen at the sensations as she feels your tongue wiggling inside of her. You feel a wall as you extend your tongue further and your eyes widen as you shrink your tongue to it’s normal size. 
You pull away and ask, “Are you a virgin?” Wanda grows shy again and tries to hide her face in her pillows. “It’s okay to be it’s just, are you sure you want to… with me… like this?” You say as you crawl up her body and remove the pillow from her face. “I just don’t want you to regret your decision later if there are reasons you waited this long,” you tell her softly. 
Wanda gazes into your eyes and takes your hand and brings it close to her. She kisses the palm of your hand as she holds eye contact and then places your hand over her heart. “I'm sure,” she answers softly. Then she pushes you back so that you lay on the bed. She pulls your pants and boxers all the way off and tosses them behind her. “I want you so bad right now, Y/n. I've wanted you for a long time.” She says as she moves her hands up your thighs until they meet in the middle to give attention to your cock again. She kisses the tip of your penis. Her soft plush lips send shivers down your spine just before she wraps them around the bulbous head. Your head falls back as she deep throats your cock. Taking as much as shee can down her throat without gagging. You’ve never seen that before. You can’t believe it. Wanda removes her mouth and you lift your head back up to watch her. “I don’t have a gag reflex,” Wanda smirks. You make a confused expression and Wanda giggles. She taps her temple, “Mind reader.” 
You sit up on your elbows, “Hold on,” you stop her from sucking your cock again. “You’re telling me that you’re more than a witch?” You shake your head. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry for what you saw today. I promise, I like you for more than-”
“No, I don’t… I didn’t read your mind earlier. I,” she crawls up your body and sits on your chest again. She holds your face as she tries to explain her abilities. “I don’t like to know what other people are thinking so I take something that decreases my ability to read peoples minds. I can only read your mind when I’m touching you. I wasn’t doing that earlier,” she explains. 
A slow smile graces your lips. You move your fingers a long the length of her arms. “Does that mean you’re seeing what I’m thinking about now.” You take the palm of her hand and press your lips against her soft skin. The hitch in her breath is enough to let you know that she can see exactly what you intend to do with her tonight. “And what do you think?” 
Wanda leans in close to your lips and whispers, “I already told you to show me your deepest desires. So stop stalling.” She meets your lips in a slow, deep, kiss. Every time she kissed you she felt the effects of something grow stronger. She couldn’t place where it was coming from but she has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with that chocolate that Nathasha was being so weird about. It didn’t matter anymore. She was so close to having exactly what she wants. 
“Yes, ma’am,” you say with a raspy voice as you kiss her back. You move your hands down her body and rip her thong off of her. You aim the tip of your penis at her entrance and slip just the tip in to tease her as the two of you continue to kiss. You pump in her softly, slowly stretching her out with your girthy cock. Wanda’s mouth falls open as you slip inside her previously untouched walls further. You move your kisses from her lips to her cheeks then to her neck. Her hands move from your face to your shoulders as she helps you lower her further onto your throbbing rod. Her nails start to dig into your skin and it causes you to lose control of your thrust as you break her hymn in one strong thrust. 
“Holy shit,” she gasps. “I can feel you,” she says as you lick the sweat off from her collarbone. “You’re stretching me,” she moans as you thrust further into her. “I’m so full with your cock,” she continues and you groan as you bring her breast into your mouth. You get the full length of your dick inside of Wanda’s tight walls and you nearly bust a nut from how amazing she feels around you. “It feels so good,” she says while she moves her hips. You smile with your mouth full of her boobs. Then you drop it with a plop as you grab her hips.
You begin to pump inside of Wanda and fuck her as hard as you can. She is shocked by the pleasure she is feeling from such force but she is far from complaining about it. “Yes!” She screeches out as you pound her pussy with your thick meat. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She pulls you closer to her by wrapping her both arms around you. “Fuck you’re in so deep! Oh fuck! It’s so good! Fuck me Y/n! Fuck me!” She shouts as she continues to ride your cock while your hips slam into her. 
Your thrusts get so erratic that your cock slips out of her hole and you have to stop your hips from moving. You flip the two of you so that you are laying on top of her before you enter her again. “Ah fuck your pussy is so good, Wanda,” you moan as you enter her tight wet walls that is gripping your dick and pulling you further inside of her. “I’ve never done it raw before. Oh my gosh this feels amazing!” You say as rock your hips into Wanda. The sensitive skin on your penis is feeling every inch of her and you can’t believe any of this is real. 
“I’m so close,” Wanda gasps as her nails start to dig into your back. You didn’t know that you’d enjoy that feeling as much as you do. It drives you to speed up your thrusts again as you rub her clitoris with your thumb. 
“Cum for me,” you tell her and watch as her eyes roll back and her chest arches up into yours and feel as her walls squeeze the life out of your cock as if her body was trying to milk you. She screams out as she rides the waves of her orgasm. You don’t stop playing with her clitoris even after her body falls limp. 
“Don’t stop,” she says as she enjoys the over stimulation. You continue to rub her bundle of nerves while you pump your cock into her. 
“I’m, fuck, I’m close,” you warn her. “Don’t, mphm, worry. I’ll pull out,” you grunt out as you start to slow down your thrusts. That’s when Wanda’s legs wrap around your waist and lock you in. “Wanda what are you-” 
Wanda pulls you into a deep kiss. She dances her fingers along your jaw as you try to pull away. “Cum inside me,” she whispers. You head starts to shake but the request is too delicious that your eyes roll back as your cum starts to flow out of you and flood her pussy. “Mmm I can feel you pulsing inside of me,” she says as your cock empties inside of her. When you stop erupting, you try to pull out but Wanda shakes her head. “Not yet,” she says, “I don’t want to feel empty just yet.” You nod as you keep the two of you connected and sigh as you lay your head on her naked chest. Your limp body laying on top of hers. She is combing her fingers through your sweaty hair. “That was amazing,” she kisses your forehead. 
You give her a lazy smile with your eyes still closed, “It was. I wish we could live in this moment forever.” 
“I’ll allow it,” she responds softley. “But you’ll have to promise that you won’t want to be with anyone else.”
You make a face, “That’s an easy promise.” You lean up and kiss her cheek. “There is no one I’d rather be with.” You grab her hand and lay it on your chest over your heart. “You can even scan my mind. Sure, I’ve slept with people in the past. But I’ve always wanted to be with you. No one has ever invaded my mind the way you have.” 
Wanda bites her lip and sighs. “I don’t have to search your mind. I trust you.” She kisses your lips. 
After an hour of laying in her bed, connected to each other, you eventually pull out of her. Some of your cum flows out when you do and Wanda catches some on her fingers. She sucks them clean and you almost get hard again. But you manage to control yourself since you’re no longer under the influence of whatever you were under. You grab her polaroid camera from the top of her dresser and you point it at her. She gets shy and pulls some of her sheets over her body. She covers her face with her long light brown hair and you snap a picture. You wave it to help develop the image even though you know it doesn’t really do much. 
You smile as you look down at the image a year later when you’re getting ready for your wedding. You put the image in your wallet again and it’s still there when you’re racing Wanda to the hospital to deliever the babies. You glance at it when you’re sitting with her in the nursery as you remember the first time you got to have the most wild sex with Wanda and think about how the chocolate her best friend gave her led to all of this. Natasha confessed to what she did in her maid of honor toast. You have it with you on your tenth wedding anniversary and show it to Wanda during the special dinner. She blushes as she remembers how things used to be before the two of you became parents. Although she still made enchanted candles, the Tommy and Billy were quite disruptive with nightmares and bedwetting. It made moments that the two of you wer alone long enough to have sex that much more special. 
“You still have this?” Wanda asks as she was looking for cash to pay the pizza guy for the twins fifteenth birthday party. 
“Babe, I will carry this in my wallet until the day I die,” you tell her and give her a sweet kiss before running the pizza boxes over to the insatiable teenagers. Wanda paid the man and smiled to herself as she admired her younger form. She kept herself quite fit and so did you, but she couldn’t help but think that some areas were tighter in the picture than they’ll ever be again. She puts it back into your wallet so that you can keep your promise and you do. 
The End.
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channie-143 · 1 day
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Bff Skz when you’re shorter than them
Pairing: best friend ot8 x reader
Genre: crack
Request: short reader (like 160 cm lol) who likes to joke and tease that the only reason skz keeps her around is because she make the boys feel tall? 😆 I really like your writing and I feel like you'd do something really fun for this idea that will not leave my brain !!
Warning: swearing
A/N: thank you so much for the request and I’m really glad you like my writing! Sorry this has been in my ask box for months though 😭 Also the bangchan one is absolutely based on me scaring my tall friends 😇
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adriennebarnes · 1 day
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Can You Be My Boyfriend?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N is Ferrari’s social media manager and when one of the mechanics doesn’t take no for an answer, she pretends she’s dating a certain Ferrari driver.
Warning: grammatical and spelling errors cuz I don’t proofread
A/N: i just wanted to say thank you so much for the love y’all gave “Prince of Ferrari”, it means a lot to me as a new Charles Leclerc writer. I hope y’all like this one too, just like Olivia Rodrigo, I am so American,
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Y/N walked into Fred’s office.
“Mr. Vasseur, I had an idea for a new C2 challenge.” Y/N said.
“What did you have in mind, Y/N?” Fred asked.
“I was thinking we make dishes from each place we go to. Like Cuban food from Miami, Texas barbecue ribs, paella from Spain, and we have Charles and Carlos match the dishes to their flag. I personally think it would be fun, you know? Or we could do a video where the drivers tell us from which Grand Prix the photo was taken.” Y/N suggested.
“Those are very good ideas, Y/N, see if the boys are up to it, will you? Figure out when the best time is to film that.” Fred said.
“Yes, will do.” Y/N said and left his office. She walked to the living room (does the hospitality have a living room? I don’t know) to see Carlos and Charles chatting to away.
“There she is! Como has estado, hermosa?” Carlos asked Y/N, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.
“Ha estado súper bien, un poquito cansada, pero nada que no se puede arreglar con un café.” Y/N said, her and Carlos laughed.
“I understand half of that.” Charles said.
“Now you know how I feel when you speak French.” Y/N said. “Anyway, as your social media manager, I had an idea for an upcoming challenge, we have to make the most of this season.” Y/N said.
“We hear you, mon ange, what’s the idea?” Charles asked.
“Can you guys guess what Grand Prix this is based off the picture?” Y/N asked, showing them a picture on her phone.
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“That’s when I won in Monza.” Charles answered.
“Good, this is your challenge, guessing Grand Prixs based off a photo.” Y/N said putting her phone away. “It’s not much, but it’s different from what you guys have done in the past. You could also match dishes to their countries.” Y/N said.
“Sounds like a fun challenge.” Carlos said.
“Good to hear. I’m gonna be with the photographer, he’s taking photos of the new livery and I need to approve them before I post them on Instagram. See ya later, okay?” Y/N said, stepping into the garage where she sees the photographer looking over the photos on his camera.
“Y/N! You’re here, tell me what you think, and be brutally honest. Do you think they came out to blurry?” The photographer, Daniel, asked. Y/N started looking them over.
“They look great, honestly, it matches Ferrari’s instagram feed, you did a good job. Can you upload them to the computer?” Y/N asked and Daniel said that he could. He left Y/N alone on the garage and that’s when one of the mechanics, Ruggero, approached her.
“Sei bellissima, a more mío.” Ruggero told her. Y/N rolled her eyes,
“Grazie, Rugge, what do you want?” Y/N asked.
“You are very hostile towards me, you know? I might be able to forgive you if you go out with me.” Ruggero said.
“Not gonna happen, Rugge, aren’t you tired of getting rejected?” Y/N asked.
“I bounce back. Come on, amore, why won’t you let me take you out? You think you’re too good for me?” Ruggero asked.
“What are you talking about? Oh my god, I don’t think I’m too good for you, where the hell did you get that from?” Y/N asked, so confused at the turn this conversation took.
“Well that’s the only thing I could think of, you come from the states, you clearly think you’re better than Europeans.” Ruggero said and Y/N had enough of this nonsense.
“I have a boyfriend! Que pesado eres, me cae.” Y/N said.
“Really, who’s the boyfriend?” Ruggero asked. Y/N saw Charles walking into the garage.
“Muñeco, there you are!” Y/N said loudly, walking up to Charles and kissed him. Charles widened his eyes in shock but kissed her back and they both pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest and Charles rubbed her back.
“Congratulations, does Fred know?” Ruggero asked.
“It’s private right now, we’re just seeing how this goes.” Y/N replied and as soon as Ruggero left, Y/N pulled away from Charles. “I am so sorry! Ruggero wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to tell him I had a boyfriend and honestly whoever walked through that door was going to be the victim of my lie but I am glad it’s you and not Carlos, mainly because Ruggero knows Rebecca is dating him.” Y/N explained quickly but Charles was still distracted, thinking about the kiss Y/N gave him.
“I’m sorry, what?” Charles asked.
“Can you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could pull this off, Y/N. We work together.” Charles said.
“We would only have to pretend we’re dating around Ruggero, no one else has to know, I promise.” Y/N said.
“Okay fine.” Charles said, him and Y/N were walking back to the main area (I don’t know how this works) and Carlos was standing next to Fred and Ruggero with a smile.
“Congratulations, cabrón,” Carlos told charles, hugging him. “You two are adorable.” Charles turned to look at Y/N with a look that said ‘no one will know, yeah right’
“I didn’t know you two were dating.” Fred commented.
“It’s still new.” Charles replied, putting his arm around Y/N.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the social media posts, it should be fine.” Fred said before walking away. Ruggero smiled before going back to the garage.
“Now I know why you always called her ‘mon ange’, que coqueto saliste, eh charles.” Carlos said, leaving Y/N and Charles alone, Y/N pulled away to face Charles.
“Well so much for that plan, I really am sorry, Charles.” Y/N said.
“You know what? It’s alright, it’s okay, pretending around here should be easy enough, this can’t get worse, right?” Charles asked.
“I Don’t think it can. How about I buy you lunch for getting you into this situation? I swear I did not mean for this to happen.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, sure let’s get lunch, where do you want to go?” Charles asked.
“Well since this lunch is my treat, you choose where we should go.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked to the parking lot together and Y/N was walking towards her car when Charles grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards his car. “Seriously?”
“Well what kind of boyfriend would I be if we went to lunch in different cars?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, makes sense, Ruggero is watching through the window too, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles opened the passenger door and Y/N got in, he close the door behind her, ever there gentleman, and he got into the driver seat. He turned on the car, and gave Y/N his phone so she can choose the music.
They arrived at the restaurant and like always, there were fans recording Charles and Y/N in the car, leaving the car, eating at the restaurant, talking, laughing, within the hour, Charles and Y/N were trending on Instagram, Twitter (X), and TikTok. As they waited for the check, Y/N was scrolling on TikTok when she found a video of her and Charles in the car.
“Charles, i think our ‘relationship’ went public.” Y/N said, showing him her phone. Charles’s eyes widened.
“Cant say I’m not surprised, I just thought videos wouldn’t be posted until later, you know?” Charles said and Y/N put her phone away.
“We haven’t even been ‘dating’ two hours and now everyone knows. You have no idea how sorry I am, I feel so bad for dragging you into this.” Y/N said.
“None of this wouldn’t have happened if Ruggero understood the word ‘no’ so you are fine, I’m glad I was able to help. But what was that thing you called me? ‘Muñeco’? Why did you call me that?” Charles asked.
“So ‘muñeco’ means ‘doll’, you have a pretty face, everyone says you’re good looking, you know you’re good looking. So muñeco just suits you, okay, especially with those dimples.” Y/N said, Charles smirked a little.
“You think I have a pretty face?” Charles asked teasingly.
“Great, I boosted your ego, like your head wasn’t big enough already. You literally said in one of those C2 challenges when Carlos had your photo that if you were a woman, you would be in love with yourself.” Y/N said. The waiter came in with the check and Y/N was going to take it but Charles was faster. “Dude, I told you I was gonna pay.”
“It would look good if you paid, there are cameras everywhere apparently.” Charles said, placing his credit card with the check. The waiter took the check.
“Then I’ll Apple Pay you. You gonna train today?” Y/N asked.
“Yes actually, come with me? You could post it to my story.” Charles asked. The waiter came back with Charles’s card.
“Yeah, I can do that. But we gotta go to Scuderia Ferrari for my car.” Y/N said, getting up from the table, Charles getting up as well.
“I think it can stay there overnight.” Charles said.
“You want me to spend the entire day with you? You’re insane.” Y/N commented as they were leaving the restaurant.
“Maybe, but it is to keep up appearances.” Charles said.
“I guess, but how long do we say we’ve been dating?” Y/N asked, getting into Charles’s car, he does the same.
“4 months seems good, don’t you think?” Charles asked.
“I guess that’s plausible.” Y/N said, Charles starts the car and drives off.
“Do you miss New York?” Charles asked.
“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.
“You travel a lot with us and you moved to Monaco for work, but do you ever miss New York? Your family? I know I miss my family when I’m away for races.” Charles said.
“I miss the food in New York, I can’t get decent tacos al pastor in Monaco, I gotta wait til the Mexican Grand Prix for them.” Y/N stated. “But yeah, I do miss New York.”
“You should ask for vacation time so you could go.” Charles said.
“I Don’t think they’ll give it to me, but thanks.” Y/N said.
For a week, Y/N and Charles have been spotted together everywhere, at races obviously, with Joris, Andrea, Doni, and Victoria, even with Charles’s family. Right now Y/N was with Charles at a club in Monaco. Y/N was at a table with Charles was at the bar getting drinks. Y/N noticed a girl flirting with Charles, touching his hand, before he pulled away with two drinks for him and Y/N.
“Charles, can we talk for a second?” Y/N asked.
“Sure, what’s on your mind, mon ange?” Charles asked, the nickname still causing butterflies in Y/N’s stomach.
“If you wanted to hook up with that girl, you can. I don’t want to have you tied down for a fake relationship.” Y/N said.
“I wasn’t interested in her at all, you know.” Charles commented.
“Really? What happens when the next girl that hits on you is more your type? I don’t want to hold you back, we are friends after all.” Y/N said.
“I have a confession to make.” Charles said, Y/N nodded her head for Charles to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while. Before you kissed me, it was a little crush, I thought it would have went away, but being with you this past week made my crush grow stronger. You don’t have to feel the same way, I just wanted to get this off my chest.” Y/N was shocked. Charles usually went for Instagram models, but he actually likes her, this was her dream come true.
“I’ve liked you for a while too, I just never thought you would see me that way.” Y/N said.
“I’m going to kiss you right now, okay?” Charles whispered, getting closer to Y/N, looking at her lips then back into her eyes, Y/N nodded, leaning in until their lips touched. It was a soft, gentle kiss, until Charles gained more confidence to do more. They pulled away. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real, this time?” Charles asked.
“Yes I will.” Y/N responded, they kissed again.
The End
Was this good? I think it was good, the pacing is weird, but I had no idea where this was going, just saying. Was it just as good as “prince of Ferrari”? Probably not, but I hope y’all liked it, should I keep writing Charles Leclerc fanfics?
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ghouljams · 1 day
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The only foil Gaz has in his little scheme of fucking his pretty clients? Rich business man Price and his pretty wife. Prices’ wife? The most oblivious bimbo he’d ever met. He wants to nail her *so* bad but, she doesn’t pick up on his ‘double meanings’ or anything! She just paid his estimate outright, (full price! The jacked up price!!! wtf?)
“I’m sorry, I’m not good at manual labor!!! I’d probably knock down the building, lol!” And prances off. She dresses like a tease, tiny skirts, tight shirts, heels, nice hair, pretty makeup.
She’s got daddy Price paying for her and Price finds deep, endless amusement in Gaz going crazy trying to get her to understand what type of ‘manual labor’ he’s talking about. Every time Gaz tries to flat out tell her he wants to f- Price walks by, blue balling Gaz because he can’t proposition his clients wife right in front of him!!! Gaz gets blue balled *again.*
And Price keeps hiring him too! He has the money, so why not? Gaz really amuses him, it turns him on to have someone chasing after his pretty wife *so* bad, and imagine how great it will be when Price finally lets Gaz have her?
Maybe they can have Gaz over for just sex without the fake excuse of ‘building’ or ‘remodeling’
(Bonus: if Price overhears Gaz’s double entendres, he comes in bends over the marble counter like ‘oooooh, this is how I get the discount, I can do that’ because he thinks Blue collar Gaz is hot too, why does his wife get to be the only one nailed over their new counter? And his wife is like ‘oh- oooooh! OOOOOOH!’ Sparkles in her eyes ‘now’ she get’s it!!! Well why didn’t he just *say* so!!! And drops to her knees. Yeah, They all take the new marble counter for a spin.)
The problem... the problem...
The problem is I want Gaz to fuck that old man over the marble counter now. Gaz plays for both teams, if he can't get the bimbo wife, he'll take the hot older husband. Price wants to bend over the counter, Gaz'll press his hand firm between Price's shoulders and his hips firm against his ass. A little surprising for Price, he was joking(sort of) because that's the fun of it. His wife isn't getting it but he is, and it should be a good haha laugh it off moment of "I know what you've been doing." But Gaz presses his weight down against Price and tells him he'll do just as well.
"Can probably take it better than the bird, isn't that right sir?" He murmurs, his cock already starting to stiffen against Price.
The ideal end to this scenario is Gaz fucking Price over that shiny new counter, Price's eyes rolling back as he grunts out moans and Gaz bites his shoulder, pretty wife sat on her knees behind Gaz licking his balls and occasionally dipping back to eat his ass. Both of them really should be thanking him for doing so much work on their house, and for teasing him so long. He wants Price white knuckling the counter, shooting his load all over his wife's tits as she tongues Gaz's ass. He'll fill Price and then move on to the bird.
"When's the last time someone took care of you properly," Gaz asks Price, leaning back to spread Price's cheeks apart, watching his cock getting swallowed greedily with each thrust. Price mumbles out some answer, well before he was married, and sorely missed. Gaz hums with a smile, "Might have to start staying late then, make sure you're satisfied with my services."
Don't think Gaz isn't eager to get the wife over the counter too. Stripping the condom off his thick cock when he's done with Price and lifting the giggly wife off her knees to fuck her raw. Normally he's safer about this sort of thing, never know where a housewife has been, but he doubts she's smart enough to be sleeping around. So he bounces her on his cock until she's shaking and clinging to him, stifling moans by biting his shoulder. He'll leave her dripping come so Price can eat it out of her.
"You know," Gaz tells them, gathering his things, "You really could do with a couple French doors out to the garden."
"When can you start?" Price asks.
"How's tomorrow work?" Gaz grins.
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nomazee · 1 day
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Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉
May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢
Take your time! ❤️❤️
this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 
Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 
“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 
“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 
“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 
“It’s ‘you and I.’”
“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 
Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 
“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 
“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 
“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 
In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 
You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 
“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 
“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 
He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 
“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 
“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on his face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 
“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 
“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes
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rosedom · 1 day
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AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.
AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike
Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs
It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing
-pera
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"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . dress for the slide
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .
A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile. 
The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such. 
Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.
It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)
And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:
a goddamn motorcycle. 
Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you. 
And, well.
It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.
“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour. 
You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”
You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up). 
“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”
He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.
You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale. 
Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.
You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises. 
You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you. 
“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.” 
(It’s fun, to be immature like this.) 
He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover. 
Everybody will know he's yours.) 
“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”
“A horny teenager.” 
He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”
“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand. 
He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.) 
It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)
“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal. 
Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say. 
“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.
“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike. 
“You’ll always be reminded of this.” 
You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.” 
“Good?” You tip your head to the side. 
Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.” 
And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth. 
“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.” 
“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?” 
“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)
“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.
“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing. 
He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”
Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.” 
Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery. 
It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn. 
“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers. 
“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls. 
Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)
No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”
Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick. 
“Ready?” 
He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.” 
You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.
“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him. 
A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)
Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.” 
With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust. 
Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.” 
“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons. 
“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs. 
He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.
But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear. 
“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.” 
“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”
“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”
No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.
While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”
“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected. 
“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”
He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.
Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.
“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”
“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.” 
Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep. 
“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll. 
But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile. 
“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?” 
He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.” 
“I did.”
“Get to it then.” 
You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”
Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum. 
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i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (;′⌒`)
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ellecdc · 3 days
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💰jingle jingle💰
how much for you to continue the barty shirt fic where they make it up to the tower and tell the marauders🤭
I'll give you this one for free but the rest will cost you
Barty Crouch Jr x potter!reader who tattles on Jegulus
CW: making fun of only children, siblings insulting one another, platonic Prongsfoot drama, no real angst - just chaos Continuation of this one shot
The trek from the Slytherin dungeons up the Gryffindor tower in a full sprint was unideal for even the most athletic and fit quidditch player in the castle; but if there was one thing a lifetime worth of living with James Potter and his pranking ways prepared you for, it was running.
Fortunately for you, this was not a universal experience and you were quickly able to leave Regulus and Barty well enough behind you.
You screamed the password at the Fat Lady who shrieked in fear when she saw you barrelling towards her causing her to open so quickly that the portrait thwacked against the stone walls and you all but dived into the common room. 
You stood up straight as your chest burned to survey the patrons of the common room only to find that the entire common room was already doing the same to you.
“Circe’s tits, Potter.” Lily said with a smirk. “You look like you were trying to outrun Peeves.”
Your smile turned devious as you continued panting. “Better.” You answered quickly, turning your sights towards your brother, Peter, Remus, and…
“Sirius!” You greeted as you speed-walked over to their sofas.
“Hey Trouble; get tired of the snakes?” Sirius teased as he moved a chess piece with an air of nonchalance.
You were eager to change that.
Before you could open your mouth, two Slytherin’s came spilling into the common room before the portrait had a chance to close behind them.
“I’m so glad you could join me for this.” You taunted Regulus who’s jaw tightened as he straightened himself up and shook Barty’s hand off his shoulder.
“Isn’t this a nice shirt, Siri?”
Sirius looked up at that as he considered your form. “Yeah, actually; that’s designer, right?”
You look down at it with a smirk when you heard Regulus whisper a cautionary, “Potter.”
“I’m not sure…it’s got a little crown on the sleeve.” You explained innocently.
Sirius’ eyebrows widened at that. “Shit. Yeah those are super expensive; but great quality and super soft. Great choice, Junior.”
“Thank you!” Barty accepted eagerly. “See Treasure? Black gets it.”
You smirked as you looked over at James who you could see by now was clearly sweating. “Right…but I actually stole this from Jamie’s trunk.”
James’ eyes shot to Regulus as yours moved back to Sirius who was staring at you bemusedly.
“That is not Prongs’ shirt, and didn’t Junior just admit it was his?”
“Nope.” Barty answered with a pop of the p. “I admitted buying it.”
“Why are you buying clothes for James?” Remus asked cautiously then, eyes darting nervously between your mischievous form, James’ anxious form, Regulus’ tense form, and Sirius’ confused form.
“Oh, I’d never buy clothes for that Potter.” Barty scoffed. “That shirt was Reggie’s birthday present last year.”
The sound of Peter’s hand slapping against his mouth as he stared at you all wide eyed was the only sound in the entire common room.
Remus was holding his book in front of his face like a shield as he watched the spectacle that was his friend group.
Finally, Lily let out a long suffering sigh. “Potter, you might want to take this chance to get a head start.”
“Right.” James agreed quickly as he took off towards the portrait hole, pausing as he passed Regulus, seeming to decide since he was already going to die tonight, he may as well go big or go home.
He paused long enough to pull Regulus into a searing kiss before ripping away from him and taking off out of the common room.
The room continued to sit silently as everyone digested what they just saw.
“Did we seriously lose both Potter’s to Slytherin’s?” Marlene asked finally, causing Regulus to scoff.
“Like you’ve got a leg to stand on here, McKinnon.”
“At least I’m not fucking my brother’s best friend!” She volleyed back, causing Sirius to let out a dramatic gagging sound.
“You lot really need to spend less time worrying about who your siblings are shagging.” Peter said with an air of finality.
“Thank you!” You and Regulus chorused, causing you to glare at one another.
“You’re taking this rather well, Pads.” Remus chuckled, tapping Sirius’ knee with his book as Sirius continued staring unseeingly at the portrait hole.
“Mhm.”
Remus and Peter exchanged a worried glance. “What are you waiting for?” Peter asked finally.
“James will get lonely when he realizes no one is chasing him.” He replied in monotone. “He’ll be back in a few.”
“Sirius, please be cool about this; I’m happy, alright?” Regulus sighed in exasperation.
Sirius’ eyes flit over to his younger brother as his brows furrowed. “Listen, am I particularly pleased about…this? No. But that’s not what I’m going to kill him for.”
“What are you going to kill him for?” You inquired, wondering if it was worth writing home to your parents about.
The second your sentence finished, James cautiously stepped back through the portrait hole to find the common room in much the same state as he’d left it.
Suddenly, Sirius stood from his spot on the sofa. “ALL THOSE TIMES YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE TOO BUSY TUTORING TO PRANK WITH ME, YOU WERE DITCHING ME FOR MY BROTHER!?”
The room collectively grimaced as they looked over at James. 
“Listen mate, it’s not what it looks like.” James pleaded, earning him a scoff from his best friend.
“It isn’t what it looks like!? Because the way it looks to me is that you lied, and you kepy secrets! You know, there was a point in this relationship that trust and honesty meant something!” Sirius shouted back.
“It does!” James offered quickly. “It does, Pads! Swear it!”
“Right, forgive me, but your word means nothing to me right now.” He spat as he went storming up towards their shared dorm, James quickly following behind.
“Please don’t shut me out like this; you’re still my other half!”
But the rest of the argument performance was silenced when the door to their room shut behind them.
“Well, Regulus.” Remus sighed with a tired smile. “Welcome to the family; our boyfriend’s are each other’s boyfriends, and this happens every three days.”
“Salazar’s fucking balls.” Regulus groaned as he threw his head back. “This is why I didn’t want it going public.”
“Oi!” You shouted as you lobbed a throw pillow at your new future brother-in-law. “If you’re going to love my brother, love him with your whole chest, coward!”
“You take that back.” He hissed at you.
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“I…I don’t know what to do…should…should we get a professor? What’s happening?” Barty started, looking around the Gryffindor common room with a look of panic on his face.
“Oh, relax, Junior. Your only child is showing.” Remus sighed as he pulled his book back out.
“Aren’t you an only child, Lupin?”
“Yup.” Remus responded as he turned a page of his book. “But I’ve lived in the same tower as the Potters for seven years, and dealt with Sirius and Regulus for the past two; you pick up a few things. Things like this-” he explained as he pointed towards you and Regulus who were still throwing insults back and forth. “Is what siblings call bonding.”
Lily chuckled as Marlene, Barty, Peter, and Remus watched as you called Regulus a “spoiled rotten toerag” to which he replied that “even listening to your voice made him feel like he was losing brain cells”.
“Siblings are weird.” Barty decided.
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bisexualiteaa · 2 days
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could you write something where cooper is talking the reader through it, but like, super sweetly and lovesick?
Talk Me Through It, Baby
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!! And some domestic fluff)
CW: NSFW MDNI!! Established relationship, lingerie, flirting, cursing, reader being all enticing, 🤭 p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, domestic Cooper, irradiated cream pie, fingering, oral, (fem receiving) praise, Cooper talking you through sex and making love to you, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from TV series
AN: the creative juices are flowing people! I’m loving it, thank you all to have given me asks, it has been so much fun getting to write stuff for you guys! I think i may be done posting for today and have a busy rest of the week ahead of me but keep a look out within the coming weeks for those whose asks I have not done yet! I haven’t forgotten you lovelies, I promise ❤️ hope I did your ask justice, Anon! Enjoy some smut and domestic fluff! 🥰🤠
It’s days like these that made you remember just how nice it was to live a domestic life back in the day. No worries of murderers at your doorstep, no worries about food supply running too low, radiation sickness, it was just perfect. You could bake, you could cook whatever you could get your hands on, but the best part? Was when Cooper walked through that door after a long day to see the beautiful smile that would light up your face when you would greet him. You’d come up to him, greet him with a “welcome home, honey!” Followed by a sweet, soft kiss as his hands would fall to your hips once he’d make it through the door of your home in the settlement. You wished it could be like old times, but this was the closest to that that you’d gotten and you were proud of it. You had a nice home that almost was completely patched of all holes, working appliances thanks to the electricity you got going, clean water, food and some furniture to really spruce things up.
It was the activities that transpired after dinner however that left you both the most excited for when we would be home. You smiled cheekily as you returned from the bathroom, sitting against the doorway clad in a nightgown that you had made for yourself from collected fabrics. It was soft and silky, yet slightly see through, adorned by lace cups and lace around the bottom as it flowed out yet also hugged your frame. One where it left very little to the imagination of what lay underneath. “What do you think?” You asked excitedly yet with a sensual calm tone, making Cooper look up at you with a grin. He whistled as his eyes roamed your figure, loving the way it hugged your curves just right and let your pert nipples poke through the lace. “What do I think?” He asked, standing up and walking towards you, meeting you half way as you sauntered into the room. “I think you look like a dream come true, sweet pea” he said, his hands coming to rest on your hips as yours looped around his neck with a smile. “You like it? I made it myself” You asked, knowing by the tent in his briefs and the smirk on his lips that that answer was obvious. “Oh I love it” he said genuinely, trailing his hands along the smooth, silky fabric as he looked down at you with a soft smile before pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed contentedly into it, removing his hat from his head and placing it on your own with a chuckle into the kiss. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were propositionin’ me, little lady” he said, making you grin up at him with that half lidded look of mischief and love in your eyes that he just couldn’t get enough of. “Maybe I am” you answered as your eyes flitted between his and his lips, your hands coming to rest against his chest softly, just enough touch to tease, yet enough to make him chase after you for more. “Then let’s take it for a spin, hmm?” He asked, making you giggle softly before a light gasp left your lips as he leaned down, planting sweet kisses to your neck, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your arms held him tighter, pressing your chest against his as his teeth found all your weak spots, being sure to exploit them to work you up even further and hear those beautiful sounds he loves so much. “Cooper…” you sighed, your head falling back at the feeling of his rough hands running along your body, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. Between kneading the pleasantly soft flesh of your ass, to fondling your breasts, he just couldn’t get enough of you.
“Always look so pretty for me, sugar” he said, making you smile at his heartfelt compliment as he worked at the straps of your hand-tailored nightgown. “I always do my best for you” you replied, making him chuckle. “Don’t need to, you’re perfect as is” he responded, watching as it fell off of you with ease, the fabric pooling at your feet as he kissed you. He felt your hands smooth over his shirt as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the gin and sweet cherries you had with dinner, making him groan. You always tasted so damn sweet, so addictive. Sugar-Bombs be damned, you were 100% of his daily value of sugar and he wouldn’t want it any other way. When he noticed you had nothing on underneath, he couldn’t help but grin. “Look at you, you’re just so damn gorgeous, what’d a bastard like me ever do to get so lucky?” he complimented, making you smile giddily at his continued compliments. “By being you, Mr. Cooper Howard. Wouldn’t want you any other way” you replied, making him give something between a groan and a chuckle as your lips came to his neck. “The bed looks awful empty, what’dya say we change that?” You asked, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed as he chuckled. “I like the way you think, sugar” he replied, watching as you sat down on the bed before him, looking to him expectantly. “C’mon don’t be shy now, tell me what you want” he said, but rather than speak your mind, your hands spoke for you, finding their way to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up to where he’d take it off. He chuckled. “How ‘bout these? Want these off too, sweet pea?” He asked with a grin, knowing the answer before you even shook your head yes to confirm it. “Go on, take ‘em off for me. I know you like it more when I let you do it” he said softly, bringing your dainty small hands to his belt buckle, watching and helping you undo it and the button to his pants before taking a hold of his zipper with your teeth, and bringing it down. He groaned watching you toy with him, his fingers gliding through your hair, scratching your scalp before moving down to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “Eyes up here, darlin’” he teased, a grin on his lips as your pretty little doe eyes squinted with your smile, completely love drunk. He watched as you placed your fingers to his hips, helping pull down his pants and briefs as you looked him in the eyes the entire time. “Good girl, so good at it you ain’t even gotta look” he said, making you bite your lip and giggle as excitement was nearly tearing you apart, but you were being good. Patience was key, he loved drawing things out with you to where you were left absolutely crazy for each other.
“Sit your pretty self back some, let me have my dessert” he said, making a pleasant tingle flow through you straight to your throbbing clit. You did as you were told, scooting back a little and resting back on your hands as you spread your legs for him. “There ya go, nice ‘n wide for me, perfect. Look at you, so pretty for me. ‘f I had film in that old camera I’d snap a picture just to keep around of this sight” he said, making you grin up at him, the look in your eyes full of need as he got down on his knees at the edge of the bed. His lips trailed searing hot kisses up along the insides of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most before placing the most feathered light kiss to your clit. Your hips bucked up involuntarily out of need and anticipation, a moan leaving you before you whined as he lavished the other thigh with kisses. He gave an amused chuckle. “Patience sweetheart, you’re doin’ so good for me. I promise it’ll pay off” he said, trailing back up to your soaking cunt where he’d placed soft, searing kisses to your clit, making your eyes flutter shut once more and your head drop back with a moan. He groaned at your taste, at the way one of your hands rested on his bald head to tell him how good he made you feel. He looked up at you as he let his tongue lull out, running it up your slit to your clit, flicking the tip of it against your sensitive nub. You keened at the sensation, your chest rising and falling drastically with the harsh inhales and exhales of your pants and moans, a small smile turned the corners of your lips as your eyes were shut. “Cooper…” you moaned, and it was music to his ruined ears. “Taste so good sugar, I swear it’s like you’re made of it” he said, placing a playful bite to the inside of one of your gummy thighs, earning a louder, surprised yet pleased moan in response. “Fuck…” you panted, making him chuckle as one of his fingers prodded your entrance, sliding in all the way to the knuckle as his tongue flicked against your clit in a rhythm that had you bucking your hips to meet his mouth. “Feels s’ good, please..” you begged, feeling him curl his finger inside of you to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves. He was going to be the death of you one of these days, you swore it, he was too damn good at this. He watched as you looked down at him, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him eating you like a man starved. He gave a wink at you as your gazes met, smirking into you as he felt you get closer and closer. “That’s the spot, ain’t it sugar? That’s it, doin’ so good for me, I know you’re close. Let go for me honey, I’ve gotchya” he said, keeping that delicious pace with his tongue and fingers rubbing that spot inside, it didn’t take long for you to do just as he asked. With a moan you came on his fingers and his tongue, a low, feral groan leaving his throat and rumbling his chest as you did. “Good girl” he praised, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers. his mouth and chin shining with your slick and his spit. He used his fingers to wipe it off, looking you in the eyes as he sucked on his fingers to remove it, groaning at the taste as he licked his lips clean.
He climbed up on the bed over top of you, leaning down to kiss you which you graciously accepted, unbothered by the taste of you on his lips and tongue. “Ready sweetheart?” He asked, making you shake your head yes at him, enjoying how desperate you were for him. He leaned back to rub his tip through your slit, collecting your slick and mingling with the pre-cum that beaded out from it. “Don’t tease, Coop..” you begged, making him chuckle. “I know, I know, just makin’ sure I don’t hurt ya” he said, before easing his way into your tight cunt. Didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, the stretch always burned at first but subsided into nothing but absolute bliss. “Doin’ so good for me, doin’ okay sweetheart?” He asked once he was fully sheathed inside you, waiting for you to tell him when to move and making sure you weren’t in pain. You looked up at him, that smile that he swore was the brightest thing in the universe eased all his worries. “I’m good, Coop. You can move whenever you’re ready” you said, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you again, starting a soft, slower pace. He didn’t want to fuck you tonight, didn’t want to have sex with you, no. He wanted to make love to you, show you how much he loves you, show you how much he worships the ground you walk on. He wanted to give you everything you ever wanted and more just to see that pretty little smile in return, it’s all he ever asked for. You both moaned into your shared kiss, his one hand holding yours by your head, fingers intertwined with each other as the other rested on your hip. Your free hand roamed along his scarred back, your head tipping back as his thrusts were deep and calculated. You shut your eyes as his lips roamed your neck, once again abusing the sensitive skin to hear your voice sing for him. “Feel so good honey, like you were made for me” he said, making you hum at the thought, you certainly liked to think so. “Maybe I- hah~ was” you said between moans, making him chuckle dryly. “Maybe you were” he said, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, his tongue laving over one of your nipples as his other hand toyed with the other between his thumb and finger. You moaned as your head fell back against the pillows, hair fanning around your head like a halo. You were ethereal, he swore it. His perfect little angel to keep him out of too much trouble, but just naughty enough to keep him on his toes.
“I love you so much, darlin’. Love everything you do for me” he said, making you smile warmly. “I love you too Cooper, and everything you do to- I mean *for* me” you said playfully, making him laugh at your witty joke, feeling the way your gummy walls hugged him tight, fluttering around his cock as he kept a good steady pace. “Felt you tighten around me, go ‘head, let go for me baby. I’m here” he said, bringing his thumb down to rub tight circles against your clit, leaving your back arching off the mattress and a wide O shaping your lips. “Fuck…Cooper, cum with me, please…inside” you said, making him groan into your neck as he buried his face there. “Anything for you sweet pea” he replied, moaning into your shoulder as you held onto him for dear life, knowing your orgasm would hit you hard. And that it did. You saw white stars flash in your vision, as your body arched up from the mattress once more, pressing yourself to him as your walls clamped down around him, milking him of everything he had to offer you as he painted your walls white. You panted as you rode out your highs, his lips coming to yours for a sweet, gentle kiss before resting his forehead against yours.
As you both lay there, basking in the after glow, he couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked teasingly, making him chuckle. “Just that I found the love of my life” he said, so casually as if it were common knowledge, making you give him that beaming smile he loved so much. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing the irradiated skin with your thumb as you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his once more. “Good, because I’ve been lookin’ at mine for a few months now, wondering when you’d finally admit it” you said, making him laugh along with you as he pulled out, got you both cleaned up and hooked you up to some RadAway. “Maybe I’ll go down to the market and getchya that ring you were eyein’ last time we went” he said, making you look at him astonished. “Oh Cooper, you ain’t gotta do that! You know how many caps that’ll run you?” You asked, making him laugh. “Does it look like I care? Besides, if it’s that ridiculously expensive, no one ever said anythin’ about spendin’ the caps if the person sellin’ it ended up missin’ somehow” he said with a grin, making you grin as you kissed him, only he could make murder look so good.
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erwinsvow · 2 days
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you write rafe so good and like you get me like sometimes i’m reading and i’m like “how’d they know😦” so HEAR ME OUT lifeguard!reader (bc i’m a lifeguard at a few country clubs) and i think rafe would be drooling and kelce and top would make fun of him and they’d like break all the rules like back flipping off the diving board just to get readers attention
oh my god first of all i completely adore you!! im so glad yess we must be little brain twins <3 i would love to know which parts made you think that! but here is the best i could come up with for a lifeguard au which is soooo cute but imagine.. its a pogue reader...
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rafe knows every pretty girl who frequents the country club, he's made a point of making sure he does. so a fresh face in the crowd stands out pretty easily, especially one like yours.
you're pretty without trying, hair tugged behind you in a ponytail and a simple red one piece, the bottoms covered with denim shorts. it's not the usual kind of outfit for the club, but maybe you're headed out by the pool or something.
he can only see you from the back, though when you turn around, he sees the white cross on the front of your swimsuit. then he sees the boy in matching red trunks next to you, the whistle around your necks and a little first-aid box in your hands. a hot life guard, it doesn't get much more stereotypical than that.
you look around the club, following the boy who can only be giving you a tour of the facilty, with curious eyes like you've never been here before. it's only then a comment from top snaps him into a frankly startling realization.
"can't believe they hire pogues for this shit. wouldn't be surprised if shit started going missing by the pool deck."
rafe thinks normally he'd throw another line in, laugh at what top's saying, but he can't find it in him today. so he keeps watching, the sweet way you smile at a little girl who stopped you to ask for a bandaid, the way you nod while taking in something else in your training.
"alright. you've been staring at that pogue girl for twenty minutes. what gives?" kelce asks finally, after rafe ignores what they've been saying to him for the third time.
"huh?" he snaps back, tearing eyes away from you to look at his idiot friends.
"don't tell me you got hots for the lifeguard. what're you, thirteen?" they laugh, but rafe doesn't.
"shut up." he stands, downing the rest of his drink. "m'goin' to the pool. you loser can come and shut up or stay here and yap."
when he finally gets out there, you've shed the shorts, looking over the kiddie section of the pool with a watchful eye, taking the responsibility of watching brats seriously. he doesn't hesitate, jumping into the deep end with a huge splash, one that gets your attention.
you walk over, making sure whoever that was didn't just fall in, when two boys yell over.
"hey! lifeguard! our friend needs help!" you turn to look back at the boy who's been training you, wondering if you should dive in or wait since you're still in training, when you hear them again.
"not him! you! in the red. hurry!" you don't hesitate, though you're confused, jumping straight in and swimming over to the boy. he doesn't look like he needs help, in fact, he looks like he's floating.
"um, excuse me-" that's all you get out when you get close to him, because he scoops you up like he's rescuing you, carrying you out of the pool like a bride. you kick your feet, yelling out. "hey! put me down! you're not even drowning!"
he sets you down, and you wipe your face, staring up at pretty blue eyes and an arrogant face, once you recognize, one that your best friends hate.
"oh. you. i should have known."
"me? yeah, heard about me, have you? only good things, i hope."
"yeah, no. what the fuck was all that? i thought you were drowning."
"yeah, i was. thanks for the help." confused, soaking wet, and not appreciating his two little sidekicks snickering behind you, you try to get away, when rafe follows.
"so, uh, how long you been working here?"
"it's my first day."
"yeah, i thought so. i never forget a pretty face, so-"
"are you serious?"
"dead serious. and yours is definitely pretty."
"rafe," you say, leaning in closer so he can hear you clearly. "stop hitting on me. i have to work. some of us actually have to work."
"know my name already, huh? what else have you heard-" you roll your eyes, he laughs.
"i heard you're a good swimmer," you say, taking another step closer.
"yeah. from who?"
"i don't know. i'm about to find out." with one hand, you push his chest, and he falls backwards into the pool, the water splashing around your feet. you laugh, watching him bob in the pool, his friends laughing too. "good talk. hope we never speak again."
rafe gets out of the pool, pushing his wet hair back. he calls out after you.
"yeah we'll see about that."
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184 notes · View notes
vscabarca · 1 day
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how about a gavi fic where they’ve been dating for a long time but long distance so the whole relationship is basically a secret and the public finds out and the internet sort of breaks and keeps commenting on how gavi is so different with her. if you do end up liking this and writing this please tag me <33
sant jordi - pablo gavi
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summary: you visit your long-distance boyfriend Gavi and he accidentally hard launches your relationship.
genre: fluff!
a/n: @weekendlusting that request was so cute, thank you for your patience!🫶🏼 Also, i was listening to this song while writing, check it out for the full experience;)
———
Exhausted, you placed your school bag onto the floor of your hallway, walking towards the darkly lit living room. Just as you sat down, your phone buzzed and Pablo appeared on the screen.
With an immediate smile, you pressed the green button, accepting his call.
„Hello my love.“ He chimed, already laying in bed with his hood up.
„Hey amor.“ You tiredly answered, now also kicking your feet upon the couch.
„How was your day?“
„Exhausing but I wrote my last exam today.“ A feeling of relief washed over your body when you realized you‘d have now two weeks of pure relaxation, without having to do any schoolwork. But this feeling of relief was over quickly. Being in another country, several hours away from your boyfriend was hard. Especially if you had now so much freetime, you would love to spend it with Pablo.
„I‘m proud of you. Any plans for the upcoming days?“ Your boyfriend asked while playing with his hair.
„Not much. I wish I could spend them with you, I miss you.“ You pouted, feeling sad for only seeing him through the screen.
„Fly to Barcelona. I‘m having a few days off and I wanna see my gorgeous girl again.“
That’s how you ended up on a plane on a Tuesday, flying two hours to visit your long distance boyfriend for the next week.
The reunion was more than sweet. Pablo surprised you with flowers as he waited in his Audi for you. You two were over four months together, but still kept the relationship from the public. You wouldn’t actively try to keep it a secret, but also didn’t have the need to show everyone you two were together. After all, Pablo was Spain‘s teenage heartthrob and you were just a normal girl going to university.
He drove to his house first, giving you time to freshen up and put down your luggage. As it was the 23rd of April, also known as Diada de Sant Jordi, a catalan holiday, the city was decorated in red roses and Catalan flags.
As you two strolled aimlessly around a more quiet part of the city, Pablo never let go of your hand. To be not recognized too often, he wore his sunglasses and a cap, looking as handsome as ever.
The touch of his hand made you blush and the smile never left your face.
Suddenly, Pablo walked towards a little shop at the end of the street. It was so small you wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for your boyfriend. Outside, there was a shelf filled with second-hand books and roses. Like the tradition says, Pablo grabbed a book with the most romantic title and went inside to pay. He stood in front of you, his signature smile plastered across his face as he gave you the book and the red rose.
„Feliz dia de Sant Jordi mi amor.“ You couldn’t help but blush, your face turning red from the charm of your boyfriend.
„Muchas gracias Pablito.“ You mused and stepped closer to press a gentle but yet passionate kiss onto his lips.
After you two enjoyed a fun day in Barcelona, you headed back home to cook dinner and have a relaxing night together.
During cooking and occasionally dancing to the music playing in the background, your phone started buzzing almost every two seconds. At first you dismissed it, thinking it was your friend filling you in on one of her hookup stories, but even Pablo turned his head in curiosity after the buzzing wouldn’t stop several minutes later.
„Don’t you think it’s important? It won’t stop.“ He asked with furrowed eyebrows, just as confused as you were. Your phone screen was flooded with people you barely knew asking about Gavi. Gavi here Gavi there, things like „you’re really together?“ or „could you ask him to sign me something?.“
It was so confusing until one of your family members told you to check Pablo‘s instagram.
You opened the app, seeing your boyfriend posted a story. Clicking on it, you saw a picture of you, holding the rose and book in your hands. Written was next to it „Feliz dia de sant jordi mi amor💞“
The blood froze in your veins. Did Pablo realize he just hard launched you?
„PABLO! why did you post me on your instagram account?“ You asked, eyes wide while he just shrugged his shoulders.
„I always do that. I thought you were okay with me posting you on my private account. You know only my family and close friends follow that account.“
Now it dawned on you. Pablo mistakenly posted the picture on his official account, the one with sixteen million followers instead of his private one with only twenty-seven.
„Baby… Of course I‘m okay with that, but you posted it on your main one. The one with sixteen million followers.“ You started laughing in despair, finding the situation oddly funny, even though whole Spain now knew about your relationship with the famous footballer.
Pablo grew red, standing in front of you in horror as he took a look himself.
„Fuck… I‘m so sorry. I swear I didn’t want to post that on there.“
„It‘s fine. I bet there are picture of us anyway from today.“ You said and assured him it was alright. He embraced you in a hug, kissing your head softly.
„At least I don’t have to hide you anymore.“
———
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footy.gossip: teenage heartthrob Pablo Gavi is not on the love market anymore ladies!💔
He was seen spending the romantic holiday Sant Jordi with a mysterious girl by his side, buying her roses and a book. What a true gentleman!
view all comments:
user1: she’s really living the Y/N lifestyle…
user2: Gavi is for sure such a sucker for his girlfriend
->user3: I mean you can even see the heart eyes behind the sunglasses😭
pedri: yn finally you came to visit… he wouldn’t shut his mouth
->pablogavi: how could I not
->user4: HE‘S NOT EVEN DENYING IT??
user5: not pedri exposing gavi😭😭
user6: WE WANT A GF REVEAL!!
user7: I just know she dresses him
->user8: fr, the change from skinny jeans to this is a blessing
->user9: pedri step up your game
user10: don’t know who the girl is but… mamá y papá.
author: wish that was you huh?🫵🏻🤨
———
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pablogavi: whoops accidental hard launch… anyway yn te amoo🫶🏼
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bunnysbrainrot · 2 days
Text
Unspoken Rules
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𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU
Content: Angst, protective Joel, kissing, sexual themes, make out session, size kink (kind of?)
Summary: The day after the town dance, Joel doesn't seem so sentimental for your time together. The emotional rollercoaster leaves you confused. Something is off about him now, and it's taking everything in you to not leave yourself to blame. Finally, Joel tries setting a boundary, but will he hold to it?
[ A/N: For this series, I invite the reader to make up their own backstory for how they end up in Jackson. I'll keep descriptions in the chapters vague, as I didn't want to assign a backstory when it's something people can have such fun with! ]
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Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep
The gentle chirping of your watch pulls you from sleep, but not without some protest. You groan softly at a headache taking form and begin to regret last night's decisions. Prying an eye open, a green 6:31 AM shines back at you, though the sun hardly shows it through your curtains. A dim lavender sky peeks through instead.
What a nice start to the day, you think to yourself, sighing loudly as you shift to sit up; the rush of movement swells your pesky headache, making you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Shit," you grumble, rubbing your eyes, "fuckin' mead, man... never again."
And especially never before patrol day.
The thought of riding your horse through rough Wyoming terrain doesn't excite you. Instead, you get the gift of an unsettled stomach, but pull yourself out of bed nonetheless.
••••
"Good morning!"
Your neighbor's cheerful greeting rings in your head, but you know she means well. She'd been at the dance last night, too, but you didn't get a chance to talk, from what you remember, at least. Giving her a small wave, you force a smile you hope is genuine enough to sell the 'I'm not hungover' act.
The food stall is desolate, to your relief, save for the man running it. You seem him every time you stop by, though neither of you have exchanged names, but he has memorized your order already. His eyes shine genuinely when he hands you your food.
"It's good to see you again," the man says, "welcome to Jackson."
You smile appreciatively and take the sandwich, giving him a brief thanks before heading off. He provides breakfast for the patrol groups, but never wants anything in return. Maybe you could repay him, somehow, you think. Mulling it over, you tear into the sandwich while you make your way to the stables. The thick, earthy smell of hay wafts past, and the sputtering of horses sounds ahead.
Rounding the corner reveals today's patrol group - it's evidently much smaller than last time.
Joel doesn't turn when your footsteps approach. You spot the beautiful mare you'd ridden last patrol, Belle, occupied with a bucket of hay. She huffs loudly when you meet her, angling her head to look at you, before resuming her breakfast. Joel silently adjusts a hefty saddle onto his horse nearby. Clinking of metal clasps fills the silence before Joel breaks it.
"How's the hangover?"
There's a terseness in his tone, as if forcing a conversation he doesn't want to have. He doesn't turn to you when he asks the question.
You pause for a beat, "Kicking my ass a little."
Joel nods once, "Been there."
This Joel isn't the same man you danced with last night, this version doesn't remember, or simply doesn't care. Nothing from last night was special enough to hold onto today. Shame starts to sink in your uneasy stomach. So he really did mean it, when he called himself a fool for dancing with you.
"Where are we meeting up with the rest of the group?"
A casual tone masks the pain blooming in your chest, and the tears that prick your eyes. You wouldn't dare let them fall in front of Joel. He shouldn't know how much last night meant to you, even if he wouldn't bat an eye at your tears. It seems like last night's biggest mistake was thinking that he, somehow, was true to his actions. When his lips were brushing against your neck, hovering over your ear, before his tone had gone seductively darker.
"Just us today. Smaller groups help cover more ground."
It feels like an invisible string is pulled between you when he speaks, growing more taught with each bated breath and expressionless comment. You come to notice that Belle is already donning her saddle and gear, a task you hadn't done yourself.
Glancing at Joel, you hesitate, "Thank you for getting Belle ready."
Finally, he turns from his horse's saddle and shifts attention to you. A steely look in his eyes reprimands you without words. It didn't seem like a favor. He'd done your work for you.
"Saddling up is the boring part. Not as tricky as it looks, though. I'll ask Maria to show you how," he offers dismissively.
It’s a nice gesture, but the Maria part begins to register. He won’t show you, or doesn't want to spend time alone with you after what transpired last night. Confusion lingers in the back of your mind - Joel invited you to dance, and now it's as if you've never held a conversation before.
You nod, "Sounds good to me."
Even though it was not, in fact, good at all. Maybe last night really was some drunken mistake, but it wouldn't make sense of Joel's demeanor now.
Why did he look like he had something else to say?
••••
"Pretty day today," Joel states.
Sunlight streaks between distant mountain peaks, painting the morning fog with a breathtaking display of orange and yellow. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how it casts a golden halo around Joel's salt and pepper hair, highlighting its warmer browns. He turns to his saddle bag, giving you a glimpse of his face; the sunlight works wonders. He's warmer and brighter... there's more life to him.
Joel gestures to one of the peaks ahead, "See that mountain over there? The shorter one to the right - we stop at the base of it. On the way out there, we're on lookout, gettin' rid of any stragglers. At the turn-around point we'll rest, and the trip back is supply pickup, in case we find anything."
You clear your throat, carrying on, "Got it... Must be a long route, hm?"
"At an average pace, 'bout two hours or so. If you're bookin' it, you could do it in less than one."
The talking is helpful when it's useful information, but anything else reminds you of last night, of that version of Joel. When he was in such stark contrast to this gruff personality, and if you were being honest, it had intrigued you. Pulled you in deeper.
In fact, from the moment you saw him, he caught your eye. On that chilly morning, where you stood timid and anxious amidst the crowd, something clicked in place when he'd briefly turned to you.
A certain roughness in his look told you that something, many things, has roughed him around the edges over the years. You couldn't tell his age, but you could assume that he witnessed the fall of everything. Back then, the world crumbled with the rise of the infection, its haunting mortality rate, and there was no hope of it being stopped after it had begun. You wondered what Joel's life had been before he ended up in Jackson - how his 'regular life' was, back when the world made more sense.
His accent is distinctly and seductively Southern, one you could listen to for hours. Clearly he isn't from around here - any kind of travel across so much terrain isn't an easy task, and it would take months at a steady pace.
So how the hell did he wind up in Jackson?
Joel reaches for a canteen of water, unscrewing the top and tossing his head back, taking in a few deep gulps. His jaw twitches as he drinks greedily, and follows it with a low, satisfied sigh when he's finished. The sound casts you into a void of unholy thoughts. Something tightens in your core, a feeling that, you now realize, you haven't had in months. Years, maybe.
Effortlessly, Joel shines light on an emotion you hadn't addressed to even yourself: a primal need for something.
••••
With the exception of picking off the straggling infected, the patrol is continuing quite smoothly. The sun is slowly inching its way across the sky, keeping you comfortably warm in a gentle breeze that relieves your dull headache. Now, Joel leads you down a path veering toward an open stretch of pasture at the base of the mountain. Peering ahead, you see the trail reach its end at the start of the field, and beyond spans into a sea of rolling hills that takes your breath away.
"How you doin' back there?" Joel asks.
"Still good," you reassure him.
He nods his head toward a fence far off in the pasture, "We go to the edge of the perimeter, then we loop around. We'll take a breather first, though."
You follow in his stead until he reaches the old wooden fence, dismounting his horse, and carefully tying its reigns to a nearby fence post. Dismounting Belle gives your hips and thighs a wave of relief to get some blood flowing again. You head to the fence on unsteady legs, leaning against the weathered wood as another gust of wind rushes by. The cool wind across your skin makes you turn to face its source, tossing your head back to invite its presence at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and the world melts away for a while.
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He wishes he could burn this image in his mind. You throwing your head back as the wind blows, entangling itself through your hair, your clothes. That soft smile tugging at your lips has him completely distracted before you let out a happy sigh. A soft, breathy sound that makes his imagination wander, against his better judgement.
After all, last night was a mistake.
The moment Cara had called for your attention, inviting you to join his group, Joel knew the night would end differently than he expected. You wore a shirt that accentuated every area his eyes shouldn't have wandered to, but they did. Across the lot, he'd watched you dance for hours, spinning and twirling and laughing and really, truly, living. He could see a light in you, a fire that couldn't be put out.
But if you're a fire, Joel is gasoline.
"Listen," he starts. He already knows where this is heading, that he's ruined this moment, and that there will be nothing in his power to make it any better.
But he can't let you fall into a delusion. This idea that you want him, yet you have no idea of what's underneath. He can't have you focused on him when there's a whole community to serve. He's doing a service by telling you now, he assures himself.
Nipping it in the bud.
You turn to face him quickly, knowingly. He can tell by your fidgeting hands that you might know what's coming. And he can see it in your wide-eyed expression, still somewhat hopeful. He braced himself to see that face fall.
"What happened last night... ain't my best moment. I didn't hold myself back when I shoulda have, and I..." he straightens, "it can't happen again."
The words come out meaninglessly. Joel speaks, but can't hear himself, his words come from some far-off mental script he'd prepared when he'd gotten home last night. He can see it hit you - the realization, the way your body goes completely still. Your bottom lip trembles slightly, yet you hold a solid smile despite the hurt he sees in your eyes. Your hands have frozen in place, knuckles growing white from gripping them together so tightly.
"I-I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away," you explain.
Your apology is a blow to his gut. Have you been blaming yourself this whole time? As if you could even be at fault. Joel asked you to dance. You were about to go home, and he asked you to stay out of his own selfishness.
He needed that light, that fire. A brightness that only you've possessed, and it had him hooked from the first time you'd spoken, at last patrol. You had strayed away from your position in the party and had wound up next to him. It hadn't registered who had joined him, and before he had the chance to issue a harsh 'stay back', there you were, in complete awe.
Joel remembers it clearly: the way your eyes shone with delight, an infectious smile that for a moment, lifted his spirits. Every patrol was the same. Same people, same routes, over and over and over again with exhausting mundanity. Until you came along.
There was a light about you he could not touch.
In every way you are his opposite. On one hand, Joel is harsh, serious, and doesn't care much about his impact on others, let alone their feelings. You, on the other hand, represent everything Joel could've had for himself - kind, flexible, and you naturally cared for others.
Joel can't seem to remember when he lost that side of himself. He doesn't understand your capacity for kindness in a world this dark.
"You shouldn't be apologizing for anything," he says.
You pause and look toward the ground, wringing your hands again, "I should've just gone home."
If you had, you wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now.
A surge of regret fills his chest. Someone as kind as you doesn't deserve the pain of rejection; you should have someone who cherishes you, who can appreciate your softness without tainting it.
"Why'd you stay?"
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There was no use for excuses now.
It's harder to meet his eyes this time, but you want to see his reaction to your answer.
"Because you asked me to dance."
Confusion knits Joel's eyebrows together when he asks, "And that was so special?"
"Yes. Was it not that way for you?"
He opens his mouth to answer, yet he hesitates. The long pause doesn't much to help your confusion, you truly want to know, to hear it from him first. If it wasn't important, it'd be easier to forget it happened in the first place.
It would certainly be easier than an unrequited love. Anything is easier.
"That's not what I said."
"It's implied," you state. Joel averts his gaze to the fence, idly picking at a loose piece of wood. "It's alright if it wasn't, I just... I need to know."
Another beat passes before he gives his answer, at long last. Joel matches your pose from earlier and leans with his back against the fence.
"It was. Special, that is," he says gently. That softness in his voice was greatly missed, and it's a breath of fresh air to hear it once more. "It's just... you're still new here. I don't want you getting distracted-"
"Are you calling yourself a distraction?"
Joel's eyes dart to you, "Am I not?"
You press your lips into a thin line, making his question ultimately rhetorical. He nods once, then turns his head to you. The intensity of his stare demands it to be met, so you meet his eyes and find a playfulness there, a hint of the Joel from last night.
"Am I one?"
"Telling you would just give you ideas," he teases.
You smirk, "So I am."
"The worst kind."
Shifting your weight on your feet reminds you of the soreness in your legs, so you lift your arms, and push yourself onto the top of the fence, dangling your legs over the side. The silence between you now isn't as uncomfortable as earlier. No, this is the silence of anticipation, wondering what or who will give a resolution.
"What about me is so distracting?" You ask.
In place of words, Joel makes his way to you, positioning himself in front of your swinging legs, which now shook a little more than you'd like to admit. He closes the gap with hands on either side of you, gripping the wood beneath his rough fingers.
There's no way to place his expression when he looks at you again.
He replies, voice low and strained, "Everything."
You can't miss it when his eyes wander to your lips, hovering there a moment longer than he needed to. Taking the opportunity you look at his as well - you knew they were soft, but hadn't felt much of them. Need and hunger are all you can feel as you stare.
When his lips meet yours, there's something that tells you that maybe this situation was inevitable. One look at him, and you knew how you felt, and exactly how willing you'd be to take your time with him.
But today, Joel doesn't need time. He knows what he wants.
He groans into your mouth when you move your lips against his - the sound of a starved animal finally getting their fill. It draws a moan from you, matching him in a sweet harmony. There's a gap between you still, that simply isn't enough.
You reach forward in search of the waistband of his jeans, hook your fingers through his belt loops, and tug Joel forward. His mouth crashes into yours once again, skirting his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entry. One at a time, you wrap your legs around Joel's waist and secure yourself tightly against him, gripping at his shoulders with a ferocity you didn't recognize.
It's not as slow as you would've liked him to go, but it's the pace you need. For how long it felt to wait, for how impatient you'd been.
And he knows how to deliver it.
His hands roam carefully around your waist, squeezing and fondling with an avarice that shows he's been waiting just as impatiently. Every caress sets you alight, erupting goosebumps along your arms and neck, which Joel is slowly shifting his attention to.
"Joel," you pant, but it's all you can muster. There's more to the sentence, but his lips stop you. They play at the soft skin below your jaw, suckling gently before his tongue slides along your supple flesh, bringing himself to your ear.
He catches your earlobe between his teeth and bites playfully. Another moan falls past your lips, another breathy utterance of his name. Joel plants a kiss below your ear. You card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands.
"Careful, pretty girl," says Joel, reaching upward to support your head as it's thrown back in pleasure. He weaves his fingers into your hair for a comfortable grip, and pulls your head back further.
The constriction chokes you, but you smile anyway at the dull pain from where he holds you. With his strength, he has you exactly where he wants you, and can keep you there. The high-pitched moan you sing next has Joel losing his composure, his actions growing sloppier as you continue.
But, to your surprise, he releases you first.
Joel pulls back with a final kiss pressed to your lips again, a deep and savoring one. The back of your head stings from the grip he held on it, though it gives you a rush of adrenaline you won't trade for anything.
The sigh he lets out is one you can recognize, because you're breathing the same one.
This complicates things.
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Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a long time to write, and I think it's because it's not smut, and it was very frustrating, so next chapter will have a LOT more (i'm already plotting)
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