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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

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teasing. | syltherin boy headcanons

author’s note: based on a request i received. i am feral.

- your boyfriends reaction to you teasing him under the table at dinner.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been in a proper fowl mood all day, and you could tell he was stressed, a clear mixture of a million different things floating through his mind.

You were literally counting down the seconds until you could finally be alone with him, but dinner was fucking dragging.

Sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but to sneak continual glances at him, noting his silver eyes darkened to a deep shade of grey, the tension in his jaw practically palpable as he stared at his plate like he could hex it into another dimension.

Just looking at him made your breath quicken, made your pulse soar.

Of course, part of you empathized with his shitty day, but the other part of you wanted to get on your knees for him right then and there--

because, undeniably so, he’s at his fucking sexiest when he’s pissed.

As Pansy’s chipper voice filled the air, yammering away to a blissfully blazed Zabini, both of them seated across from you and your boyfriend, an idea sparked in your mind.

Without hesitation, you scooted closer to him, subtly enough to not draw any attention to yourself, but enough for Draco to shoot you a side-eyed glance, eyebrow raised.

Feeling his eyes on you, you kept your gaze on your plate as you brushed your hand against his thigh, testing his reaction.

You could practically hear him swallow, could practically feel his body tense, and you’d try not to smirk.

Thrilled, you’d inch your fingers further, tracing small patterns along the middle of his thigh before trailing upwards.

He’d shift on the bench, the veins in his hands tensing as he tightened his grip on his fork.

His reactions would fuel your fire, and you’d keep going, grazing over his crotch, and he’d groan, stifling it with a cough instantly, and that’s when he’d had enough.

Shifting his hand, he’d grasp your thigh, now--with an intensity in his grip so strong you’d almost squeal. A silent warning.

He’d lean in, his voice darker than the midnight sky as he’d whisper, “you’re lucky I have some dignity…but keep it up and I’ll bend you over this fucking table right now, in front of everyone.”

your grin would be unmissable, and you’d only make it another few minutes before he dragged you away from the table and back to his dorm.

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise was literally just eating. And that’s all it took.

That’s all it took for you to want him, to damn-near need him, right then and there.

He’d been flirty with you all morning, making you swoon over his every word with his typical Zabini charm, as though he was still trying to win you over.

You found yourself giggling like a goddamn first year more times than you could even begin to count while he was around, and it drove you crazy, in the best way.

You couldn’t help it, you just always wanted to be near him, kissing him, touching him. He just made you feel that needy. Effortlessly.

And that feeling carried over throughout the entirety of your day, and didn’t falter at dinner. Oh, not even in the slightest.

If anything, it intensified.

Just watching him, in his own little world, focused on his food, casually chiming into the conversation every now and then between bites--it just did something to you. Something you couldn’t explain.

The way the veins in his hands tensed with each movement, the confident aura that surrounded him, regardless of what he was doing, was just fucking intoxicating.

And so, while caught in a moment of both mental and sexual tension, you discreetly placed your hand on his thigh while continuing to eat, feigning innocence as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Blaise looked over, immediately, and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips.

But then, with his typical Zabini composure, he’d go back to eating, letting you keep your hand there.

As you dared to inch higher, he’d seamlessly continue conversing with his friends, as if entirely unaffected by your advances.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and to anyone else, it’d seem as though nothing out of the ordinary was transpiring.

At this point, you’d be completely convinced that you were enjoying this more than he was.

But then, as you’d get close to his crotch, dangerously close, he’d lean in, his voice so deep it’d send chills down your spine.

“You better stop.”

You’d grin, slowly moving higher, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Or what?”

“You just wait until I get you alone, babygirl…” he’d smirk, wetting his lips. “I’ll get you back real fucking good.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Lorenzo bloody Berkshire; your absolutely sexy, tease of a boyfriend.

Earlier, you had been paired together for an assignment in class, which had turned out to be the most infuriating part of your day.

Enzo was relentless in his teasing; partially because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands off of you, but also because he just loved getting a rise out of you.

All class he’d stared at you with those big brown eyes, biting on his fucking lip as he smirked at you, pressing his crotch against your ass as the two of you gathered supplies for the assignment, acting like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

By dinner, your head was spinning, your nerves were shot, and you were more than determined to get him back.

And you’d do just that; finding your perfect opportunity while he was casually eating, not really paying you much attention.

You’d shift closer to him, resting your chin on your palm as you fixed your gaze on him, smirking a devilish smirk.

“So, Enz, what do you think of the new charms professor?”

You’d inquire, your voice like honey as it slipped past your lips, your fingers brushing against his leg in unison.

As soon as your hand connected with his thigh, he’d freeze, not daring to look at you, but stalling his movements completely, staring down at his plate as though it’d just grown two legs and spoke to him.

You’d grin, pulling your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide it, watching him as he’d slowly resume his chewing, his breath coming in shallower bursts as you inched higher, excruciatingly slow.

“I-uh…he’s, he’s good-“ he’d stammer, his voice cracking, clearing his throat to mask it. “Thorough.”

“Oh, thorough, huh?” You’d tease, grin widening. “Why don’t you elaborate on that?”

His jaw would tense, his lids fluttering shut for the briefest moment as you grazed his crotch, adding pressure as to really get back at him, to really give him a taste of his own damn medicine.

He’d be flustered, undoubtedly, but he wouldn’t dare stop you, playing it off until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then he’d lean in, softly setting his fork down as to not arouse any suspicion.

“My dorm, right now.” He’d practically beg. “I fucking need you.”

Mattheo Riddle.

Teasing Mattheo was not something you did, ever.

Because ‘teasing’, with Mattheo Riddle, was not a concept. It simply did not fucking exist.

You’d attempted it a few times, over your months of dating, and each time you’d found yourself either bent over a table, on your knees for him in a way-too-public location, or edged until you fucking cried/begged for release.

Mattheo never failed to let you know that he’d take you whenever and wherever the fuck he pleased.

‘Don’t poke the dragon’ or ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ ; were very much literal phrases when it came to your boyfriend.

and so you made sure not to tempt him, unless absolutely fucking necessary--However, today, it was more than absolutely fucking necessary.

And why was that, you might ask? Two reasons.

First one being that you’d slept in his dorm last night and woke up late late for class; all thanks to him.

Even though you’d made sure to remind him ten bloody times to set the alarm, he’d somehow still managed to ‘forget’.

And the second one was because he just looked so goddamn fucking sexy, and you were displeased with the fact that you didn’t have time for morning sex.

Regardless, as he was picking at his dinner, looking unbelievably exhausted, you took your chances.

You leaned closer to him discreetly, casually placing your hand on his thigh. He’d instantly tense, legs spreading wider almost involuntarily, grip tightening on his fork.

You’d inch higher, excruciatingly slow, nodding to Blaise as he said something to you, causally entertaining the conversation.

Mattheo’s jaw would tighten, so much it’d genuinely look painful, his head bowing toward the table as you slowly moved upwards.

But then, he’d grow tired of your teasing and grab your wrist, hastily moving it to his dick as he huffed, dropping his fork and running his now-free hand through his hair.

You’d be fuelled on, leaning toward his ear to whisper; “I need you so fucking bad, Matty…”

He’d snuff a groan, his nails digging into your wrist as he continued guiding your hand, guiding you in palming him through his trousers.

“You’re going to regret this, princess…” he’d mutter, his voice torn and laced with promise. “Can’t keep your fucking hands off of me, can you?”

You’d increased your movements, feeling him grow unbelievably hard beneath your fingers, and you’d know he wasn’t bluffing.

“I should bend you over right here, show the boys just what a desperate little slut you are for me….”

You’d smirk, snuffing your giggling, and that would be the last straw. He’d drag you up from the table and fuck you in the nearest closet/empty classroom.

Theodore Nott.

You were fucking bored.

So unbelievably bored that you weren’t sure how much more of it you’d be able to take.

The conversations at the table were about nothing of particular significance, and if you had to endure another second of Enzo’s mindless babbling you were certainly going to be sick.

Theo was seated beside you, aimlessly picking at his food, also looking incredibly bored.

It was not unnoticeable that the two of you were about ready to fall asleep on the damn spot.

In a moment of desperation, you turned to your boyfriend, attempting to spark up a conversation.

“So, what are we planning on doing this weekend?”

As Theo looked up, you’d instantly grow warm, his stormy blue eyes swirling with admiration as he glimpsed your lips, his once flat features beginning to soften.

“Can’t speak for you Bella, but know what I have on the to-do list,” he’d murmur, leaning in for a kiss.

Theo was never one to shy away from PDA.

As your lips met in a quick, soft kiss, you’d smile as he slowly pulled back. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

That’s when you’d put your hand on his thigh, slowly trailing it upwards, instantly causing his eyes to darken, his jaw to tighten.

He’d spread his legs wider, inviting you to keep going, and you’d gladly oblige, palming him eagerly as the two of you held eye-contact intense enough to make you dizzy.

he’d smirk, sucking in shallow breaths as he leaned in for another kiss, muttering against your lips;

“You…you, and you again…”

Someone at the table would playfully groan in disgust and tell you two to get a room, and you’d just laugh before Theo agreed and dragged you back to his dorm.

Tom Riddle.

If you had to listen to one more second of Tom Riddle talking about school related topics, you were going to find the nearest bridge and jump. zero hesitation.

You absolutely loved your boyfriend, loved him to fucking death,

but after he’d spent all afternoon drilling transfiguration concepts into your brain, you honestly just wished he’d drill something else into you, instead.

And by the time dinner rolled around, your brain was mashed potatoes, yet Tom remained completely fucking relentless.

In between bites of food he’d ask you to recite the animagus transformation theory, and when you’d undoubtedly get it wrong, he’d sigh, grabbing the book and reading it back to you.

But no matter how many times he’d repeat it, it didn’t fucking matter, your mind was gone, completely elsewhere.

To be more specific, your mind was lost in a sea of your thoughts, thoughts about Tom’s big strong hands gripping your hips, his strong frame towering over you as he-

Gods, this was complete fucking torture, and you needed it to stop, right now.

Loosening your tie around your neck, you glimpsed him, watching his dark eyes scan the page, watching his long fingers as he pointed at what he was reading to you,

As you undid a few of the buttons on your blouse, your hand fell gracefully, landing on his thigh for support as you leaned over him, looking down at the book,

“Can you repeat that part for me again, Tom?…” you’d murmur, voice a slow drawl, failing to hide your smirk as your felt him tense. “Silly me…I don’t think I heard you correctly…”

Tom would know exactly what you were doing, and at first he’d try to play it off, clearing his throat as he tried to decipher where the fuck he’d left off.

But then, as you continued to inch higher, grazing his crotch, he’d groan, slamming the book shut.

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” He’d hiss, the annoyance in his tone mingling with amusement.

“Let’s go before I bend you over the fucking table.”

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ghosts-cyphera · 7 months

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reader getting jealous when she’s seen pornstar!Ghost’s previous work with other girls even if she knows it’s irrational to be jealous since it’s his job 🤭

you chewed on your bottom lip as you flicked through photo after photo. each of them was with a different girl looking up at him or kissing him on the cheek. in some of them, his arm was draped over their shoulder, or they were perched on his lap with twinkling bright eyes.

most of the girls you knew. you'd worked scenes together or met them at work events. they were all lovely, and beautiful, and clearly his type too, judging by the grin on his features.

"christ."

it was silly. of course it was.

it was his job, just as it was yours: you knew that getting dicked down day after day did not mean anything.

it had not meant anything.

not until you’d allowed yourself to get used to the way he looked at you, his eyes full of adoration. the way he touched you, like the mere permission to run his fingers along your skin was something special. you had gotten used to the way he made you feel special.

and suddenly, it had all begun to mean something.

the realization had of course followed soon after. you were not any different from the rest, were you?

the fans all shipped you, yet there was not a single picture of you on his social media. the studio praised you for the money that the two of you were bringing in, yet they kept scheduling him with other girls.

girls who looked at him with the exact same twinkle in their eyes that you knew had to possess your gaze whenever you looked at him.

stupid. your fingers swiped through the photos faster in a surge of something bitter: something childish in the way that your lip moved into a pout. it was all stupid, all freaking—

"thank fuck you're here." the low rumble of a familiar voice startled you, and from the surprise, your fingers slipped: the betrayal followed by your phone falling.

flat across your face.

with a groan, you listened to it clatter against the floor of the common space of the studio, yet as soon as you pushed off the couch to reach for it you realized it to be too late.

ghost's fingers had wrapped around it, the man now grinning from ear to ear as he dangled it between two of his fingers. "if I didn’t know you any better—“

“ghost.”

“—I’d think you were doin' somethin' sneaky."

you shot him a warning glare as your fingers rubbed your aching nose. "give it here."

he had never been nosy: never dabbled into your privacy, and you could tell that this time too it was not his intention in the slightest. yet you could not blame him for recognizing himself on the dim screen of your phone, now could you?

fuck.

"darlin'," he paused, fingers still wrapped around your phone. his gaze flicked to yours as he raised a brow. "really?"

"just give it back."

with a grin—nearly boyish in the way his eyes twinkled—he tossed the phone back at you. "you shooting today, stalker?"

"just finished."

ghost raised an amused brow. “did you, though?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the implication: at the knowing smirk on his features as he uncorked a bottle of water and brought it to his lips. he looked casual like this: leaning against an armchair opposite from you, dressed in grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt.

“can’t really say that we just wrapped up either, now can I?”

“fuckin’ rawdogging my girl, eh?”

“your girl, am I?” you fell back on the couch, gaze headed towards the ceiling of the penthouse as you bit down your silly little grin. "funny considering that that's what he called me. inspired by our vids, I assume."

“who’d you shoot with?”

“graves,” you mused.

“ah so, no.” you could hear the grin on his features. “you did not actually finish.”

god.

your laugh was bright as you rolled your eyes. “if I did not know you any better I’d think that all this—,” you chuckled, “was jealousy. you’re not—jealous, are you?”

"nothin' to be jealous about, is there?"

"it's just work."

"opposed to what we have, eh?" his grin was playful, yet as your gaze met his, there was something else too. something deeper in the way that his eyes studied you.

what, you did not know. before you'd managed to place a finger on it, he'd pushed off the armchair.

now walking to you.

"so what if I were a little jealous?" his voice was a warm chuckle, and he crouched on the floor next to you. "would you feed my ego? would you go 'n tell me?"

"tell you—?"

"look me in the eyes," he tilted his head ever so slightly, his voice low, "and tell me, darlin', that graves fucked you like I fuck you."

"no one fucks me like—," your words died down with a laugh: your lips parted before you'd managed to bite down the words. "I'm not gonna go and feed your ego, ghost."

"already did," he grinned. no, he downright glowed, as he took a seat on the floor next to you. "y'know, I do sorta wish it was you today."

the corners of your lips tugged into a warm smile, and you propped your head against your hand. "who is it?"

"shel."

"shel's lovely."

"yeah," he nodded. "yeah, but she's not you, is she?"

you nipped your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt your cheeks turning warmer by the second. "it's not—," you then managed out a soft laugh. "it's just work."

"doesn't feel like fuckin' work with us, though, does it?"

"no," you hummed. "it doesn't."

where your sudden courage to address any of this was coming from, you did not know. yet as you saw the switch in his eyes: the touch of something warm, of something relieved...

"darlin', I wanted you to know I—"

a call for his name, echoing from the hallways of the penthouse cut his words short, and he pushed off the floor with a chuckle.

"fuckin' A."

"duty calls." you smiled. "I'll see you—"

"tomorrow," he grinned. "oh and—," ghost wet his lips with a chuckle, slightly breathless, "it was kate who stopped me from posting our photos, y'know? on social media. somethin' about the marketing team thinkin' it's better to—they want us to be exclusive. as in," he rushed to speak with a shake of his head, "for the website. so that to see what everyone is fussing about—"

oh.

"right," you managed as you fought back the bright smile that threatened to take over your features. "right, alright. so if it wasn't for kate—"

"sweetheart, I'd have you as my goddamn profile picture just to see more of you."

huh.

a call for his name—this time audibly frustrated—echoed across the space once more, and you grinned.

"go before they fire you for keeping them waiting."

"your loss, eh?"

"only financially," you smirked—your laugh warm as you watched him bump into the doorframe on his way out. and as you unlocked your phone, the grin that ghost had in the photo on your screen—smiling next to a girl—seemed to suddenly dim in comparison with the way he had just looked at you.

a/n: giggling, blushing, kicking my feet. I’m so goddamn soft for these two, lmao help. / pornstar!ghost masterlist / I'm so freaking here for all your thoughts about him!! 💌

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #pornstar!ghost

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noisilyscreechingsong · 4 days

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“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #red hood #tim drake #duke thomas #mad scientist #danny phantom #batman

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lesservillain · 3 months

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alpha!steddie x omega!reader Part One. summary: after finding yourself in a pinch, an ad in the local paper for a paid surrogacy gig catches your attention. free food, housing, and all doctor visits covered, and all you have to do is pop a baby out for a a hot alpha couple? what could go wrong! cw: OMEGAVERSE. established steddie. smut, angst, m/m/f, anal (m receiving), daisy chain, free use kink, breeding kink, lots of unprotected piv, surrogacy, strangers to lovers, alpha x alpha relationships are considered taboo wc: 10.6k

A heavy ball of nerves filled your gut as you sat in the busy coffee shop. You sipped on your drink, eyes darting to the door every time it opened as you waited for them to show up. Them being the alpha couple that you contacted the day before.

Looking for a way to make some money in this small town that you’d decided to settle in, an ad in the classifieds caught your attention.

Wanted: Omega Surrogate for Male Alpha Couple.

It wasn’t something you’d expected to see in the Sunday paper. Hawkins came off as a more conservative town, and it was pretty common practice for people to look at male alpha and same sex beta couples a certain way.

Of all the combinations of couples in this world, most of them could produce children except for two male alphas and same sex betas which made the coupling quite the taboo. It was pretty well known that most adoptive agencies and surrogacy clinics wouldn’t assist those kinds of couples, so an ad like that isn’t uncommon, just not something you would have bet money on finding.

The ad itself seemed very enticing. The couple lived in an allegedly nice neighborhood called Loch Nora, according to the barista you’d asked. It made sense considering the couple said they would pay for all your needs like food and doctors appointments.

You were currently living in a motel while you searched for a place to live here. And the more time you spend searching, the more money you spend on food, the less you have to put down for a deposit. So the offer to have your food paid for for the next 9 months was something you weren’t about to pass up.

The bell on the coffee shop door rang again. Your eyes flicked to see two men walk in. They were both clearly alphas; tall, handsome, and their mixed scents were strong enough to reach your nose even over the strong coffee smell. They were quite the opposite of each other; the one looking like he belonged on a stage performing for a metal concert, and the other looked like he just came from a business casual style modeling gig.

Their eyes began to scan the shop and it hit you that this might be the alpha couple that’s meeting you. Butterflied erupted in your stomach at the thought of the two of them together. The omegas in this town must have all collectively cried when these two got together.

The rock star guy’s eyes caught yours first. You gave him a small wave and he perked up and returned the gesture excitedly. He bumped the model guy and pointed you out to him, saying something in his ear before the two of them made their way to you. As they got closer, the knot in your stomach got tighter. How they hell were these guys so attractive?

The model guy approached you first, saying your name like a question, as if to confirm you’re who he talked to on the phone.

“Yep, that’s me,” you say as you stand to greet them. “You must be Steve. Your voice sounds familiar.” The model guy nods, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m Steve. And this is Eddie, my partner.” Eddie takes a step forward and extends his hand to you. You take it to shake, but as soon as your hand touches his, a shock of electricity shoots up your arm and all over your body. It was a feeling you’d never had before, and it made you pull away from him. You wondered if he felt it too by the way he looked at his hand and then to you.

“Everything okay?” Steve says, extending his hand out to you as well.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine,” Eddie says, wringing his wrist in his other hand. You nod, not sure what to say as you grab Steve’s hand to shake. But the same thing happens when you touch him as well.

“Woah,” Steve says with a laugh, pulling his hand away. “There must be a lot of static in here or something.”

“Must be,” you say as you shake your head, sitting back down in your booth seat.

The two men slide into the seats opposite of you, shoulder to shoulder like any other couple would. Steve opens the flap of his blazer, pulling out a stack of papers from it’s inner pocket and laying it on the table, attempting to flatten it with his…vary large hands.

“Okay, so,” Steve starts, running a hand through his hair. He takes a breath and looks to Eddie and then to you. Eddie’s fingers lace together on the table as his thumbs fidget nervously, is attention staying on the papers.

“This is kind of the guidelines we’ve come up with for what we’ve planned out.” Steve slides the paperwork across the table to you. “Like we said on the phone yesterday, we can negotiate some things to work better for you if you decide to go through with this. Just let us know what we might need to change and we can have our lawyer rewrite it.”

At that last sentence, you realized this was a contract. It made sense that they would want one. What if you had decided to keep the baby and run away? Not that you would. Your life was too much a mess right now to take care of a kid on your own. And you were relieved when you read that they wouldn’t abandon you with the child either.

When you went to flip the page, you could see Eddie physically shift from over the papers edge. There was a pink tint to his cheeks, his eyes downcast with…embarrassment?

“Um,” Steve clears his throat, “This next page…” He hesitates, mouth opening and closing like he can’t quite figure out what he wants to say. “We, uh, we asked for an omega specifically for a reason.”

Your eyes caught the title for the next section of the contract:

Terms of Conception.

“Terms?” You say as you begin to read on. Honestly, when they’d confirmed that they would pay for all of your doctors appointments, you’d just assumed that included the insemination appointments. They were a couple after all, one that had been together for more than 5 years now, so you’d figured there wouldn’t be any...intrusion on your part.

But that became abundantly clear that was not what they had in mind.

“We just figured it would be easier and less invasive on your end if we did things more naturally.” Steve’s tone was slightly distressed, worried that their proposal would run you off once you fully understood their terms.

‘The surrogate party agrees to stop all forms of suppressants and birth prevention measures. Heat cycles will be tracked and monitored by all parties for peak conception. Intercourse will be performed by all parties during the following days leading up to and during the peak fertility window. Due to the schedules of the donating party, said party requests that the surrogate party legally, physically, and emotionally consents to make themselves available at all times to the donating party. This includes at all hours of the day and night, as needed.’

“The consent part is really important to us, too.” Steve adds, pointing to the papers in your hands. “Obviously we want you to feel comfortable enough to tell us no, but sometimes with our jobs we don’t work set hours.” Eddie moves for the first time since you turned the page, nodding quickly in agreement to Steve’s words.

“I get it…” you say, pretending to keep reading even though you’re mind is reeling. “It’s like…free game, right?” You laugh nervously, and the two men both shift very differently where they sit. Eddie’s eyebrows go up, leaning into the table with interest in your phrasing, while Steve seems to tense up a bit, his ears turning red.

“That’s a good way to put it,” Eddie says with a nod, “We just want to make sure you’re willing to work with us. We—” Eddie looks to Steve with a smile, “We’ve been talking about this for at least a year now, and we’re really ready to take this next step.”

The way the two men look at each other in front of you makes you melt from how lovey they are. It becomes abundantly clear that, to them, this is just an obligatory step to expand their family. A means to an end for a couple that wouldn’t be able to get help any other way.

“Oh!” Steve says as if he suddenly remembered something, “This isn’t in the contract yet, but Eddie and I were talking last night when you said you were still looking for a place to live. Well, we live in a fairly big house and we think that for the sake of…convenience, for lack of a better word, that we would like you to stay with us during this whole process. It would give you plenty of time to get a feel of the town, find a place to live.”

You looked at the two men with surprise. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about asking to live with them, but you didn’t think that they would be the one offering. And all of Steve’s points made sense to you so it didn’t take long to mull it over in your mind.

“Well, I mean, as long as this isn’t some elaborate plan to murder me, then I don’t see why not.”

Steve and Eddie visibly relax, both of them laughing at your joke.

“Nah, we wouldn’t put this much effort just to kill anyone,” Eddie says with a playful jab at Steve, who shakes his head at Eddie’s antics.

“So, does that mean you’re okay with our terms? We totally understand if it’s not something you are comfortably with, and we can give you a couple of days to think about it if you need to—”

Free food, free housing, free healthcare, and all you have to do is let these two hot guys cum in you until you give them a baby?

“I’ll do it.”

It’s been two weeks since you’d moved in with Steve and Eddie. They took you to your hotel and gathered the little belongings you had and moved you in that same night into their spare bedroom on the second floor. It was directly across the hall from their bedroom, which made sense to you considering the nature of your arraignment. Why shove you all the way on the other side of the house if they were going to need easy access to you during your heat cycles?

After a bit of discussion, they told you that they didn’t want you to worry about getting a job right away. Something about it being too stressful while trying to get you pregnant? You didn’t argue, instead putting your focus on keeping the house put together for them.

They weren’t exaggerating when they said their hours were a bit all over the place work wise. Eddie recently took over ownership of the local body shop and Steve was a regional manager for Family Video after working his way up in the company. With both of them having so much responsibility, a normal person would wonder how the two of them would ever find time to be with each other.

If someone were to ask you, though, you’d tell them that you are very much aware of how often they spend time together. And that answer would be almost every night.

It was baffling how after both of them working sometimes 10 hour shifts, the both of them still had enough energy to fuck each other almost every night. Loudly, you might add. You’re not sure if they think you can’t hear them or if they’re just so used to living alone that they didn’t think about you being there while they bash their headboard into the wall for hours.

You had mixed feelings about it. Part of you wan annoyed, because it was honestly hard to sleep some nights at first. Part of you was jealous because you hadn’t gotten any since you’d broken up with your ex, and part of your contract included you not having any other partners until after conception. And because of that, part of you was frustrated.

Sure, you were contractually obligated to have sex with them, but it was ultimately on their terms. They were still a couple, and you were just there to fulfill a service. You doubted that even when the time does come that there will be much intimacy between you and the two of them.

You can take care of yourself, and there have been a couple nights where their sounds have helped you get yourself off fairly quickly. But you were getting to a point where you wish you had a toy or something to make things a little easier. You still had a little money that you didn’t spend before moving in. Maybe on a day they were both gone you could call a cab and see if this town has a sleazy sex shop that no one talks about.

“Good morning,” Eddie yawns, entering the kitchen. He was shirtless per usual, the loose plaid pajama pants slipping dangerously low on his hips as he stretched.

“Morning,” Steve greeted, eyes still on some paperwork that he was looking over from work.

“Good afternoon, Eddie,” you say with knowing smile, placing a plate in front of him where he sat next to Steve at the island.

“Shit, is it afternoon already?” Steve looked up, his glasses sitting at the end of his nose as he squinted to see the time on the stove.

“Must be Sunday,” Eddie says with a mouth full of sandwich. “It’s feels like it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to sleep in.”

“You slept in last Sunday, babe,” Steve says with a pointed look.

“Maybe I’ll go back to sleep if you’re gonna have that attitude.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes at his husband. Eddie laughs and plants a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“Do you guys have any plans today?” You ask, cleaning up the mess from lunch. The two look at each other.

“No.”

“Nope, not today.”

“Oh, maybe you two could go on a date?”

Steve looked at Eddie excitedly, who gave him a toothy grin in return.

“That's not a bad idea,” Eddie says. “Been a while since we’ve gone out together.”

The two of them iron out the details of their spontaneous date. From the sounds of it, they’d probably be gone most of the afternoon and possibly into the night. It was a perfect opportunity to make a trip into town for your own plans.

Once the coast was clear, you took the opportunity to look through the phone book to see if any kind of shop was listed. You found a taxi company first, dog earring the page to go back to as you kept on with your search.

As you sat there, you didn’t quite catch the way the temperature in your body started to rise. You pulled on the collar of your shirt to fan yourself as you turned the pages, which slowly became less and less clear to you as your vision began to go fuzzy. The mixed smells that you’d gotten used to all the sudden became very potent, filling your brain with the scent of alpha musk.

Before you even realized it, you were on your feet and up the stairs. Opening the door to the room across the hall from yours, you immediately find the hampers full of Steve’s and Eddie’s clothes that they kept in there. You thanked yourself for forgetting to start the laundry this morning as you dumped all the clothes onto the floor of their walk in closet.

It was heavenly to be in there surrounded by all of their clothes, towels, and other materials that you found to be suffice for your nest. At some point you’d taken off your own clothes and replaced them with one of the boy’s shirts and another’s pair of sweats. You curled into yourself, surrounded by their scent as you slowly felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

You had no idea how long you laid there for. All you could focus on was the safe feeling of your nest and the throbbing between your legs that gradually became more prominent as time passed. It felt natural for you to want to call for your ex, even when you were surrounded by other alphas scents. Your body was just desperate for any relief.

“Shit, there you are.”

A light fills the closet, breaking you from your trance and you call your ex’s name again.

“Shhh, no, it’s Steve.”

You feel your body being lifted from your nest. It almost puts you in a panic until you get a full whiff of Steve’s scent up close. You rub your face against the skin of his neck, whimpering as the pain between your legs becomes more of a strobing feeling.

“Is she okay?” Eddie’s scent breaches Steve’s take over of your nose. You can feel the heat of his body next to yours as he moves in close. A hand lays across your forehead for a moment, and naturally you lean into the touch before it’s pulled away.

“She’s burning up.” Eddie’s voice sounds slightly slurred, but you can’t tell if it’s him or if your hearing is being affected by your heat.

“I thought we had a couple more days,” Steve huffs. You can almost make out the distressed look on his face with how closely he’s holding you.

“I’ll take her,” Eddie says, his hands moving around you to take you from Steve. But Steve doesn’t budge. In fact, his grip on you tightens, pulling your body closer to his chest.

“N-no,” Steve stutters. There’s an aggressive tone in his voice as he speaks, and you feel him moving you away. It’s hard to tell, but it feels like he may be crawling across the bed with you in his grasp.

“Give her to me, Steve.” Eddie’s voice is demanding, and you feel the pressure in the room change. Steve takes a deep breath in before he lays you down on the bed, the cool feeling of their sheets hitting your warm skin and giving you the chills.

Your eyes open to see Steve stripping his clothes. As your vision comes into focus, you can see the way he looks down at you hungrily with lidded eyes. His mouth hangs open as his breathing picks up, his shirt long gone as he starts on his belt.

The bed dips and you see Eddie make his way over to you and Steve. He’d gotten down to his boxers, a prominent tent where he’s straining underneath the tight material.

“Move,” Eddie growls, pushing Steve over and sliding his way between your spread legs. His eyes are dark, locked on your exposed pussy like a predator about to go in for the kill. In a swift motion he pulls his boxers down to free his cock. It makes an audible smack against his stomach, the head almost purple with how hard he was.

The sight of his alpha cock pushes your body over the edge and a wave of arousal spills from you and onto the sheets below in preparation. Eddie strokes himself, his hand rubbing up and down his length before he moves to position himself at your entrance. Even just feeling the tip against you has you bucking your hips and whining for him. Eddie’s lips curl into a smile at your desperation, nudging you again to tease you more.

Just as Eddie’s about to push himself into you, Steve lunges at him, sending Eddie almost over the side of the bed. There’s a feral look in Steve’s eye as he moves in where Eddie was between your legs.

Even in your delirious state, your eyes go wide when you see Steve’s alpha cock nudging between your legs. Your body is built to take alpha cocks, which are normally bigger than any other second gender when it comes to size. But you were still reeling as Steve’s cock began to push inside of you, questioning how your body was going to accommodate the whole thing as he began to split you open inch by inch.

The loud moans that came from your chest filled the room the further he pushed in. Another wave of arousal pushes through you and out to coat Steve’s cock. His body rocked slowly to let you accommodate him, fully aware of how big he really was. Steve’s head rolls back, mouth hung open in pleasure with each thrust.

“Damn it, Steve” you hear Eddie hiss from beside you. Your head lulls to the side as the bed dips again. Eddie starts to crawl towards you and Steve and you wonder if he’s going to try and push him out of you. Instead, Eddie grabs Steve by the back of his head and crashes his lips into his. You watched as the two alpha’s kissed, their tongues moving in a dance with each other and their teeth clashing with each movement of their lips.

With Steve distracted by his husbands lips on his, he forgets that he was trying to be gentle with you and begins to really thrust. All at once he’s fully seated inside you, barely pulling back before pushing himself all the way back in over and over. It’s so much all at once, overstimulating your body to the point where you cum hard on his cock.

Steve gasps as you squeeze him over and over, pulling away from Eddie to look at your face. Your eyes roll back into your head and the noise you let out as you cum is choked and guttural.

“She’s pretty when she cums, isn’t she, big boy?” Eddie’s looking at you with that same predatory expression, a devilish smile on his face as he watches you cum on his husbands cock. Steve nods dumbly, barely cognizant of anything other than the feeling of your tight cunt on his cock as he continues to rock into you.

“Wow, Stevie,” Eddie teases, “I figured you would have cum by now. Her pussy that good that you don’t wanna be out of it yet?”

Another lazy nod. Steve is panting like a dog over you now, his body slowly slumping forward as he lays himself on top of you. He’s humping into you with no rhyme or rhythm, only chasing his own pleasure as he drools onto your skin.

“Hmmm, well, maybe I need to help you speed things up a bit.”

From over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie’s hand rubbing down Steve’s ass to the small of his back and back up again. You see Steve’s brows jump up before his forehead lands in the crook of your neck.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, and you feel your heart skip a beat. He pauses for a moment before he leans over Steve’s body, his big, ringed hand moving in front of your face. He presents his thumb to you, and places it against your tongue. Instinctively, you take the digit in your mouth and suck, twirling your tongue around it inside of your mouth. Eddie hums in satisfaction,a deep chuckle rolling in his chest before pulling his thumb from between your lips.

“Such a good girl,” he says with a wink. You feel yourself clench around Steve from Eddie’s praise, and he lets out a sharp breath against your neck.

You watch as Eddie’s hand lands back on Steve’s ass. The thumb that had been in your mouth sinks its way inside Steve and the effect is immediate. With only a few more sharp thrusts, you immediately feel yourself being filled with Steve’s thick, hot seed. His cock throbs inside of you as his release seems to be endless.

The pain in your core dulled with every drop of cum that coats you inside. You feel like you could pass out from exhaustion, but the sudden tightening feeling inside of you has you gasping as Steve’s knot grows inside of you.

Eddie looks at you wish confusion, not expecting your pained expression.

“What the—Steve, did you fucking knot her?”

Steve’s eyes shoot open, looking at you with more clarity than he ever has before. And in your close proximity, you were able to really look at him. The redness that dusted his freckles cheeks, his long eyelashes that framed his beautiful hazel eyes, the little moles that decorated his skin like constellations in the sky.

Steve Harrington was beautiful.

“Steve!” Eddie called his name again. Steve looked down between the two of you and sighed.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I—I just didn’t pull out fast enough.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head. In your contract, the three of you had agreed not that there wouldn’t be any knotting if the other person was waiting their turn with you.

Sometimes it takes a while for a knot to go down if the knotting alpha knows that another alpha is trying to get to his omega. It’s just a biological thing as most alpha and omega dynamic don’t include two alphas sharing an omega. The whole point of the knot is to keep the alpha’s sperm in the omega for as long as possible and to prevent another alpha from impregnating the omega.

“You better think of Mrs.Henderson in her underwear to get that to go down faster,” Eddie says with an accusatory tone and Steve grimaces. Eddie’s comment makes you laugh, and Steve looks at you wildly.

“Don’t-don’t laugh,” he hisses through his teeth, “It makes you squeeze me and that’s not going to help my shit go down.”

“Sorry.” You look away from him. If you weren’t still inflicted by your heat, you’d probably feel something along the lines of embarrassment or guilt for your current situation. Because you want to wrap your arms around Steve’s neck and pull him in for a kiss, like the one that him and Eddie had shared.

You wanted that with Eddie, too, though.

You hadn’t even realized that you’d fallen asleep until you felt the pressure between your legs shift. Your eyes flutter open, and you watch as Steve sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. His knot had gone down but his cock was still as hard as it was before he had pushed himself inside of you.

But your view of Steve was obstructed as Eddie took his place between your legs. He leaned over you until he was as close to you as Steve was.

“Got it in you for more, princess?” Eddie asks sweetly, his hand caressing your face. His scent washed over you and you were immediately back into that fuzzy headspace. You nod up at him eagerly, pleading to him with big, glassy eyes.

Eddie gives you a toothy grin. He gives you a peck on your nose before he leans back on his haunches.

“Can I move you around?” He asks. You nod, and he wastes no time moving you onto your stomach. He maneuvers your body so that your ass is up in the air for him and you can hear him hum at the view.

“Look at you dripping, sweet thing,” he says mesmerized. “Can’t wait to add to the mess.” The head of his cock nudges at your sopping pussy, slipping inside with little resistance as your arousal and Steve’s cum acts as a lubricant.

Even with the stretch of Steve’s cock, Eddie still felt like he was filling you up as he pushed himself all the way inside you. Eddie stilled against you when he was fully inside. His hands grip your sides as he breathes heavily in and out behind you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Steve says in a mocking tone. “Pussy too good?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says in a clipped tone. His body starts to move, his thrusts picking up quickly and deeply.

“Oooooooh, my god,” you moan out, gripping the bed desperately to keep yourself grounded as Eddie drills into you.

“Fuuuuuck, that feel good, sweetheart? Mmmmm you’re so fucking tight, shit.”

“Don’t wanna hear any lip from you when you knot her, too,” Steve pants, his voice sounding closer than it did before. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder and find that Steve is kissing along Eddie’s jaw, down his neck and onto his tattooed shoulders. Steve’s big hand interlaces with Eddie’s on your sides, gripping you enough to pull your ass back and bounce is against Eddie over and over again. Eddie stills his movements and lets Steve move your body instead, his cock twitching like crazy inside of you.

“Hmm, it’s kinda like your pussy toy that you love so much.” Eddie’s breath hitches at Steve’s words. “Except it’s better because it’s the real thing, huh?”

“Ye-yeah,” Eddie stutters. His brows are pinched and jaw slack as Steve continues to use your pussy to fuck his husband. You almost miss the subtle way Steve’s body moves behind Eddie, sure that he’s rubbing his still hard cock against Eddie’s backside as he watches his husbands dick move in and out of you.

Watching the intimate display between two lovers going on behind you while you’re body is compared to nothing but a toy sends a wave of heat through you. It only takes a few more Steve assisted thrusts before you’re coming undone on Eddie’s cock, soaking him with a mixture of yours and Steve’s cum.

“Jesus Christ!”

Eddie pushes against Steve’s grip, knocking them away to regain control. Eddie’s body shifts, and his cold rings sting against the hot skin of your shoulders as he grabs them, pulling you back until your body is steady. The momentum of his thrusts picks up tenfold as he begins to fuck you in a feral manner. Eddie’s grunting and hissing coupled with his lack of checking on your comfort puts you fully in a haze. Words fall from your lips with no thoughts behind them.

“Please cum. Please cum. Want your cum. Want your cum so bad.”

“Holy shit.”

All at once Steve lets out a long groan and Eddie’s thrusts suddenly become sloppy. His cum begins to fill you as he still moves shakily in and out of your abused pussy. The thrusts finally stop as Eddie falls forward and crushes you under his weight, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly as his knot expands within you.

“Mmmmmmmm.” He hums against your shoulder as he inhales your scent.

“Don’t kill her,” Steve jokes followed by the sound of a hand smacking skin. Eddie’s body jolts, his head turning to look back at Steve.

“I’m not killing her. Am I killing you?”

“Well…” It obvious that you’re struggling a bit to breathe under Eddie’s weight. A moment passes and al the sudden your being flipped, ack against Eddie’s chest and your legs spread as they drape over Eddie’s strong thighs.

Steve is at the end of the bed, his eyes locked on where you and Eddie are connected. His large hand stroked his cock, chest jolting with a particular roll of his fist over his cock.

“Like what you see, big boy?” Eddie chuckles next to your ear, his cheek rubbing against the side of your head. “I think this one’s spent for now. But if you need to get off, I’m still here.”

A smile tugs on Steve’s lips.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, shuffling towards the two of you until he’s between you once again. You watch in awe as Steve’s hand reaches out, his gentle touch landing on Eddie’s taught balls, rubbing them a few times before descending out of sight. Eddie gasps under you, letting in a sharp breath as Steve begins to work him open just out of sight. Curse the lack of movement that being knotted puts you in.

“If you can make her cum again, I bet it’ll be enough that I can fuck you without the lube.”

You clench around Eddie’s cock at Steve’s lewd words. Eddie barks out a laugh, “I have a feeling that won’t take much.” One hand snakes up your chest to begin fondling your breasts, while the other makes it’s way towards your sensitive clit. Eddie rocks his still hard cock inside you the best he can, his knot is so big it feels like there shouldn't be any room left inside you at all.

“Here, let me help,” Steve says, pushing Eddie’s hand to the side before he can get started on your bud. With a bit of shifting, Steve’s face was suddenly kissing the insides of your thighs, intermittently moving down to place a few pecks on Eddie’s as he worked his way inward. He inches closer and closer until he was dead center between you.

With heavy eyes, you watched his tongue start from the bottom of Eddie’s balls, gliding upward until his thick muscle finally met with your clit. It sent a wave of heat through you again, the arousal leaking from around Eddie’s knot. But it’s not enough.

Steve’s tongue masterfully flicks and swirls around your bud, occasionally taking it between his lips to suck on harshly. Both of Eddie’s hands twist and kneed at the flesh of your tits absentmindedly, his rocking becoming automatic as he watched Steve’s ministrations.

With all the touches and movements, it didn’t take long to get you back on the edge again with a heavy pressure building inside you. Your body began to shake as you were about to plummet over the edge, knuckles white as you gripped Eddie’s arms as if you’d float away if you let go.

The sudden twitch of Eddie’s cock inside you as he came again was the final push you need. There was a sudden release as the pressure inside you as your body tensed. Eddie’s knot wasn’t even enough to keep your slick inside. You could feel it pouring out and drenching Eddie under you.

“Atta girl,” Steve praises, his hands rubbing your still shaking legs until the went limp. “You did so, so good.”

“Fuck, yeah she did,” Eddie huffs, clearly exhausted himself.

“Hey, don’t tap out yet, Eds. I’m not done with you.” Steve rubs his cock on yours and Eddie’s skin, soaking himself with your slick until he was satisfied.

“Sorry, hun, I’ll try and be easy since you can’t move,” Steve says to you with a sincere look.

You think back to the noises that the two of them make at night when they’re alone together, always wondering f they were rough with each other. It makes sense, two alphas who naturally want to dominate their partner would probably be like a lion and a tiger fighting each other.

Your body suddenly shifts as Eddie’s back arches off the bed. You can feel Steve’s abdomen against you as he pushes himself fully inside of Eddie, filling him to the brim just the same as he is with you. Eddie’s whole body shudders and he cums for the third time inside you.

But Steve doesn’t give him much time to recover before he starts moving. His arms scoop under Eddie’s legs by the knees, bending the both of you slightly as he begins to piston into Eddie. Both of your bodies move with Steve’s thrusts, including Eddie’s cock as he’s inside of you. It almost feels as if Steve is fucking the both of you.

Eddie’s arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you as close to him as possible while you move in tandem with each other. Your so far gone that you barely even register the way his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. He lets out low growls against the skin that covers your scent gland, the pressure of his teeth teasing you as if taunting you with the possibility of him marking you.

Steve’s hand grazes against your cheek, the skin of his arm running against the round of your cheek. It happened so quickly. Your eyes shot open to find Steve leaning forward, a bewildered look on his face that bordered rage. He wasn’t looking at you, though, rather just past you at Eddie. Turning your head slowly, you see that Steve’s hand is completely covering Eddie’s mouth, his eyes wide with realization.

There was a long, silent, unmoving pause. The entire mood shifted in a second, the air thick with tension that made you afraid to even blink. You could feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall under you, your skin sticky from the sweat that had accumulated between the two of you. All you wanted was to crawl away and get in the shower, the very full feeling of being full of 4 or 5 loads of alpha cum was beginning to feel heavy inside of you.

Slowly, Steve removes his hand from Eddie’s mouth, the two of them looking at each other for a moment before Steve clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says with a forced smile. “That was, um, a little to close for comfort for me. Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

Eddie didn’t say anything.

The gradual shrinking of his knot made it to where you could slip yourself off of him. Without a word, you rolled off of him and ran into their closet on shaky legs.

As soon as the door closed, you collapsed into the nest you had made and began to feel a wave of anxiety come over you. There’s muffled words being exchanged on the other side of the door, voiced raised just enough that you could tell it was an argument, but it didn’t seem to escalate much beyond that.

This isn’t how you expected any of this to go. In the lucid state you were in you tried to remember all the terms that were discussed when it came to actually having sex. One at a time. Only enough interaction to get the job done. Minimal small talk. Knotting is okay considering the higher catch rate.

But there was definitely not to be any bonding.

The whole thing was meant to be as sterile and clinical and professional as sex between two people could be. Even if they were both hot, there was no way you were going to come between them. You weren’t going to be the other woman.

A soft nudge on your shoulder woke you up from your sleep. The mixed smells overwhelmed you once again, the floaty feeling in your mind returning as your heat took over.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve’s voice was gentle and laced with concern. His thumb rubbed circles into your skin as you roused more, turning slightly to look up at him. He was shirtless, only in a pair of gray boxers that you’re pretty sure he stole from your nest before you woke up in hopes that you wouldn’t notice.

“Mmhmm, just really tired,” you say, punctuating your statement with a yawn. Steve chuckled and knelled down next to you, his hand maintaining contact with your arm.

“I’m sorry, hun. We, uh…we went a little overboard with you, so I’m sure you’re exhausted.” You nod your head at his words, only able to keep one eye open on him as he talked. “Is it—Can—Can I—Can we help you get in the shower?” Steve stuttered as if he was asking you if you would scold him. Little did he know that the thought of hot water hitting your skin sounded amazing after all your body had been through.

“Yes, please,” you said breathlessly, arms stretching out towards him. Even in the low light you could see the tension leaving his body. Strong arms scoop you up and lead you into the bathroom. The light was low, water already running in the walk in shower as Eddie stood next to it, his hand inside of the curtain presumably checking the temperature.

“Hey,” he said once he noticed the two of you enter, his voice was stilted. He had an unreadable look on his face, his eyes looking anywhere but at you at Steve. “The water’s ready. You guys should be good to go…”

“You’re not taking a shower?” You ask, head tilting to the side.

Eddie looks at you, his eyebrows disappearing into his disheveled bangs as if he were surprised you were even talking to him. He looked up at Steve, mouth opening and closing as if lost for words.

“Do you—are you okay with him…also being in the shower?”

You look up at Steve, confused at the question.

“I don’t mind.” Your mind immediately goes back to your thoughts from earlier. You weren’t going to be the other woman.

“Unless you mind. Actually, maybe I should just take a shower by myself.” You push against Steve’s body until he lowered you down onto your feet. You miss the way Steve and Eddie look at each other as you enter the shower without them.

You awoke the next day burning up.

After haphazardly moving your nest into your room while you showered, you spent a good hour rearranging the different articles of Steve and Eddie’s belongings on your bed before finally falling asleep.

Looking over at the clock on your nightstand, you were shocked to see that you’d slept for 16 hours. It wasn’t uncommon for you to sleep for 10 or 12 hours during a heat, but 16 was a new record for you.

And your body was paying the price for it. The ache between your legs throbbed as your heat was reaching its day two peak. All you could think about was Eddie and Steve coming in to relieve you of the pain as you pulled their shirts over your face. Inhaling their scent, you let out a load moan that turned into a cry as the pain radiated down your legs.

There was a knock on your bedroom door. You knew it was Eddie before his knuckles even hit the wood, his scent becoming extremely noticeable to you in the house. Steve must not be home, the lack of the mix of there scents making Eddie stand out much more in his absence.

“Come in,” your voice was strained and slightly muffled by the shirt over your face. The door creaked open, but Eddie didn’t say anything. His silence prompted you to uncover your face. Eddie stood in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights. He was so close, yet far enough way that it frustrated you.

“What are you doing?” You sounded petulant, and if you were in the right state of mind you may even be embarrassed for using such a tone. But you were in so much pain, and the solution to your problem was dangling itself in front of you just out of reach.

“I, uh, I heard you cry out and I just…” His mouth closed as he swallowed, his lips smacking as if his throat had gone dry. You sat up slowly in the bed and Eddie’s eyes followed your every movement.

“S-Steve had to go in to work today,” he suddenly blurted out, his blown out pupils meeting yours. “I was able to take the week off to, uh, to—to.”

“To fuck me?” The words came from a place of impatience and irritation. Eddie sucked in a sharp breath at your bluntness, giving a sharp nod.

“But, I’m not supposed to until Steve gets home.” His head turns to the side, eyes suddenly very interested in a painting on the wall.

“What? Why? I thought…The contract…”

“It’s because of, well, what happened last night. Steve wants us all to, uh, talk before we go any further.”

Tears begin to form on your lash line. The rational version of you would understand, but the only thing you were concerned about was getting the relief you desperately needed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eddie’s hands cupped your face, his rough thumbs wiping away the tears that started to fall down your cheeks. “He’ll be home soon though. He said he wasn’t going to stay out a minute longer than he had to—”

The sound of the front door suddenly opening had you sobbing with relief. It slammed shut, Steve’s rushed footsteps echoed up the stairs and down the hall until he appeared in the doorway. His hair was every which way and he was panting after sprinting to get to you.

“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie said, backing away from you, and you could feel the loss of his touch in your soul.

“I know,” Steve said as he rushed to take Eddie’s spot in front of you. “Hey whats wrong?”

You sniffled, looking up at him through your watery lashes. “Hurts, Steve. Please…” You reach out a hand for him and he hesitates. He grabs you by the wrist and pushes your hand back before you can reach him.

“Okay, I understand, sweet girl.” He nods, looking at Eddie briefly before looking you in the eyes. “But we need to talk first. Okay?”

You whine out, rubbing the tears from your eyes with your free hand.

“It’ll be quick, I promise.” Steve takes a deep breath in. The grip on his hand loosens as he takes your hand in his.

“We…we want to make sure that you’re still okay. After last night, everything happened so quickly and things got carried away…We just don’t want to make you feel like that’s how it has to be.”

You blink up at him, trying to process all the words being spoken to you while pushing down the pain.

“Because of the contract?” You ask, hoping that you’re asking the right question.

“Yes, exactly. We strayed quite a bit from the guidelines we set and we want to make sure you’re still okay with going forward.”

“Steve.”

The seriousness in your tone has Steve tensing, his body as still as a statue.

“I know what I signed up for. If I don’t like something I promise I will tell you. But, until one of you knocks me up, you could fuck me on an overpass and I would not care. When I said free game, I meant it.”

Almost as soon as you said it, the room became heavy with Eddie’s scent. The weight has you collapsing on the bed, arousal pouring from you as your body preps itself. Steve looks over to Eddie, whose mask finally drops to reveal the feral intentions he was repressing.

“Eddie—”

“Steve, I’ve been going crazy sitting in this house all day waiting for you to come home just to hear that I could have been in here taking care of her while she cried out for hours.”

Steve turns to face Eddie fully, gritting his teeth.

“You’re the whole reason I wanted to wait! If you were able to have better control of yourself, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Me? If I remember correctly, you’re the one who said he wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself if we brought an omega into this relationship.”

“I wasn’t sure if I would, but clearly you’re the one who has no self restraint. Trying to bond with her the first time you fuck her isn’t really a good look, Eddie!”

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t—Woah!”

While the two of them argued, you’d managed to slip off the bed and crawl over to where Eddie stood. The bulge in his jeans was too enticing to continue ignoring. You could tell Eddie would be easier to make fold if you made the first move.

You rub your face against the material in his jeans, mouthing at him until he got the message. Forgetting his argument with Steve, Eddie quietly made quick work of his belt, hastily undoing the button and zipper as well. Your hands took over, pulling his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. You were so close to him that his cock hit your nose as it popped out of the confines of his clothes, eliciting a chuckle from Eddie.

But you didn’t wait to hear what ever cleaver comment he had planned to say. Immediately you wrapped your lips around the leaking tip, wasting no time trying to take him as deep down your throat as you were able to manage. The sounds coming from above you sent little shivers down your spine.

“Okay, okay—” Eddie pulls himself from your mouth. There was pained look on his face as he pinched the head between his finger and thumb.

“Sorry, was gonna bust too quick. And as good as you are at sucking dick, we don’t want anything to go to waste right?” You blink up at him, nodding dumbly as you lacked the words to respond to him. His hand came to rest against your cheek and you leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut at his touch.

“Awe, is the little omega too far gone already? Need me to take all that pain away?” You nodded against his hand, almost falling over when he pulled it away. Before you could protest, you felt yourself being lifted once again, body landing with a plop on top of the bed.

When you looked up, you saw Eddie kicking his pants and boxers to the side, eyes on where you lay waiting for him. For a brief moment, you notice that Steve isn’t in the room anymore. A little voice in the back of your mind tries to break through your fog, but it quiets as Eddie leans over you with his imposing frame.

Eddie swings his legs over yours until he had you straddling him. Leaning in close, his mouth hovers just next to your ear. “I promised Stevie that I wouldn’t fuck you from behind anymore. Don’t need the unnecessary temptation. Hope that’s okay.”

“O-okay.” It comes out as a whisper, only audible to Eddie with how close he was to you. The heat coming off of him only raised your body temperature more as he caged you under him.

Suddenly, his hand lands on your hip. His hand slides down your side and over your hip, only stopping once his hand is fully cupping over your center. Two of his thick fingers tease your hole for a moment before he sinks them in. The welcomed intrusion has you gasping out in relief, even more so when his rough thumb toys with your clit. Your arm wraps around him and hold on for dear life as he picks up the pace, his fingers reaching deep inside you as he works you open.

Just as you feel yourself hurtling towards your climax, Eddie abruptly pulls his fingers from your pussy, much to your dismay. You look up at him in disbelief and watch as he coats his cock in your juices before pushing it inside of you. He looks at you once he’s in, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he says as he pushes himself in to the hilt, “Wanted to feel you cum on my cock.”

And you did. With only a few sloppy pumps as he got his rhythm going you were spasming around him, legs shaking as he continued to fuck you through it.

The bed creaks as his hips rock into you. Skin against skin, sweat dripping from his face down onto yours from your combined body heat filling the room. Eddie’s very vocal when he fucks, whether its grunts or groans or him reminding you how good you feel around him every time you cum.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this omega pussy up,” he pants, his sloppy movements signaling to you that he’s reaching his end. “Feels so fucking good. Didn’t know what I’ve been missing all these years.”

His words ring in your ears, but you’re too fucked out to dissect them now. Instead, you lock them in your mind to explore at a later time.

“Hah, shit!”

Eddie grits his teeth, hips stilling as his fills you once again with his cum. Any remaining ache immediately dissipates once you feel his hot seed inside you, satiating your need for the time being.

There’s a twitch at the base of Eddie’s cock and you brace yourself for his knot. But Eddie pulls out before he can fully knot you, his chest heaving as he sits back on his haunches. Instead, he grabs your legs and lifts you up until your butt rests against his legs, elevating your lower half.

“This is supposed to help I guess,” he huffs out, his hands still holding your legs by the ankles, his knotted cock twitching against your ass.

“Why…why did you��?”

“Not knot you?” You nod.

“No knotting if the other alpha is waiting their turn. It’s in the contract, remember?”

“Oh yeah…”

Eddie calls out for Steve, waiting for few moments for him to respond. When he got nothing, he called for Steve again. Still nothing.

With a huff, Eddie moved around the contents of your nest until you were elevated without his assistance. He hopped off of the bed and grabbing his boxers, sliding them on over his still hard cock.

“I’m gonna go find him. Just try and stay like that for the ten minutes.”

You waited patiently for the ten minutes, expecting Steve to come in and take his turn with you. But, he didn’t show. You waited another ten minutes just for good measure, but the need to pee took over and you had no choice but to move.

As you opened the bedroom door, you were met with Eddie once again, his fist raised as if he was about to knock.

“Oh, hi,” he said awkwardly. “Sorry that you had to wait.”

“It’s okay. I just have to pee and then I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Oh, um, Steve’s…not in the mood. So, you’re good to shower or sleep—actually, you haven’t even eaten today. I’ll go make you something to eat real quick.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s bounding down the stairs, leaving you in the doorway with your mouth hung open.

Five grueling days later, you wake up feeling…sore. Not in the same way as your heat made you feel sore, but rather in the exact way that you think you would feel after being fucked multiple times a day for 5 days straight.

Waddling as you move, you pile all of the clothes that you’d stolen from the two men during your heat onto the center of your bed. Stripping the pillow cases and bed sheets, you drag everything down the stairs to start a load of laundry while.

The house was quiet as you moved around it. A note left for you on the counter from Steve and Eddie said that the both of them went into work today to catch up on what they might have missed during the week.

Yesterday you wanted to spend alone time in your nest, so you knew that it was your last day of your heat. You’d let the boys know that you’d likely not be cycling anymore so that you all could go back to your normal routine the next day.

Which is exactly how it felt.

You spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, prepping dinner for when Eddie and Steve would come home. Your went through the motions that you had gotten used to in the first two weeks of you being here.

But, you also had time to spend the whole day analyzing everything that had happened during the last week.

Thinking back, there wasn’t anything that came to mind that you could complain about on your end. You’d rationalized everything that happened in that first night; Eddie and Steve had both been a little tipsy. You didn’t notice the alcohol on their breath with the overwhelming smells of their pheromones all around you. But when you recalled the memory with a clear mind, you could definitely smell it on them any time they got close enough to your face.

Sure, the things that happened were off from what the terms of your contract outlined, but most of those terms were made with you in mind. And you didn’t really mind what had happened at all…

But, Steve clearly wasn’t happy. He still had sex with you during your heat, but it was more like how you had expected it to go in the beginning. It felt as clinical as sex could be. You were thankful that he had to cum inside of you, or else you might not have gotten the relief of the ache without it. He also left once he was done, usually sending Eddie in not long after to check on your.

Sex with Steve felt like you were being used, but you couldn’t fault him for it.

Sex with Eddie was different.

With Eddie’s talkative nature and inability to filter his thoughts when he was inside of you, you’ve come to the understanding that you might be the first omega that Eddie’s ever been with. You also think that Steve had been around the block a few times before getting with Eddie.

“Now I see what Steve’s talking about.”

“I get why Steve was worried about bringing an omega around.”

“Can’t believe Steve could ever give this up.”

And other things along those lines paint a picture of the relationship dynamic that these two might have when you’re not involved.

Steve was hesitant from the get go because he knew what he was missing as an alpha being in a relationship with a non-omega. Eddie’s either never been with an omega, or he’s never been with anyone other than Steve.

After coming to these conclusions, your mind couldn’t help but think about them over and over. Was Steve’s reluctance to open up to you because he felt bad about your first time together, or was he putting up a barrier between you to keep any potential feelings at bay?

Eddie certainly didn’t seem to mind. There must have been a discussion between the two of them about making things even when it came to having sex with you. Because Eddie was always eager to jump you, his enthusiasm clear every time you were together. But, it was always either preceded or followed by a less enthused Steve.

As the hours ticked by, the more nervous you began to feel for the arrival of the men of the house. You didn’t want things to be different after everything that had happened. It’s not like any of this was spontaneous. Having sex with each other was the whole point, but you couldn’t get over the feeling that things weren’t going to be okay anymore.

It was a little after 5:30 when the front door opened for the first time. You didn’t hear it over the radio playing and the loud sizzling of the oil as you seared the steaks for dinner. Your singing along with Madona’s Like a Prayer turned into a loud shriek when you turned and saw Eddie leaning against the counter with an amused look on his face. Your hand flies to your chest as you collect yourself and Eddie almost keels over from laughter at your fright.

“Eddie, you asshole! You can’t scare me like that!” You hit him lightly on the arm with your hand towel.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I was just enjoying the free concert that I didn’t know was going on in my kitchen.”

“Oh, please,” you say over your shoulder as you return to the steaks. “I didn’t take you as a Madonna guy.”

“I’m not. Only listen to her to appease Steve.” Eddie moves to lean against the counter next to you. You can feel his eyes on you as you flip the steaks around, checking on the twice baked mashed potatoes in the oven, reading over the instructions for the Stove Top.

“If you’re going to hover around me, then you can make yourself useful. Here,” you walk to the pantry and pull out a box of brownie mix, “Why don’t you make sure we have everything we need to make these?”

“We do,” Eddie says, taking the box from you with a smirk. “Everything…except the ingredient that makes them fun.”

It takes a moment for it to click. He laughs at you again as your eyes roll.

“Sounds like a good time in here!”

Steve peers into the kitchen as he pulls his coat off, placing it on the back of one of the island chairs.

Steve’s presence suddenly makes you acutely aware of how close Eddie is standing to you currently.

“Hey there, handsome,” Eddie cooes as Steve makes his way over to him. Steve leans and kisses Eddie on the lips. It’s a purely innocent kiss between to lovers, but your brain immediately flashes to the other night. The way they kissed each other with so much passion, completely dismissing you in their own pursuit of pleasure.

“Hi, babe,” Steve says between a few more pecks. When he pulls away from Eddie’s lips, he sniffs the air around him dramatically before looking at you.

“Damn, it smells amazing in here. Are you cooking steaks?”

Steve talking to you like he had before alleviated at least 85% of your anxiety over the last week. You nod, smiling up at him proudly.

“Yep, picked them up on sale last time we went to the store. Everything is almost done, too. So I hope you boys worked up an appetite today.”

Dinner went without a hitch, the conversation flowing normally between the three of you. You expected there to not be any mention of the past week, but small things in passing were brought up without any hidden malice or passive aggression. Eddie even mentioned that his coworkers were ragging on him for taking his first week off in years just to get laid.

After dinner, Eddie insisted on helping you make the brownies while Steve showered. Everything seemed normal as you read off the instructions. Eddie ran around the kitchen to grab you everything you needed.

“...and I’ll need a big bowl to mix everything in.” You were standing against the stove, back to Eddie as you set the oven to preheat. The box was still in your hand as you read it over one more time, not paying much attention to anything else as your head bounced to the low hum of a metal tape Eddie had put on.

Suddenly, you were being squished against the stove. Eddie’s arm reached out above you, his whole body pressing into yours as he opened the cabinet and pulled out a large mixing bowl. And as if it wasn’t weird enough, he stayed pressed against you as he placed it in front of you. You didn’t know how long he would have stayed like that, only backing away after Steve’s footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Eddie didn’t touch you like that for the rest of the night, and you didn’t bring it up. And as you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t decipher what exactly had happened. It already felt like how he pushed his body against you was wrong, but you could swear that you felt him…hard against your backside.

Not wanting to dwell on it, you chalked it up to lingering hormones. It might take a couple days for Eddie to adjust back after sleeping together for the last 6 days. You pushed it into the back of your mind and ignored it until you dozed off for the night.

thank you for reading.

tagging a few people who might be interested:

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @babygorewhore @myosotisa @munson-blurbs @bimbobaggins69 @chaoticharrington @lonelysatellites @blueywrites @reidsbtch

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jinjeriffic · 2 months

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DPxDC and OOC

I've had a couple of posts cross my dash recently where people lament that a lot of the dpxdc fandom writes characters very OOC and how we're proliferating these characterizations among each other. I figured I'd add my own two cents.

I think the fundamental discrepancy comes from trying to reconcile two canons with vastly different tones.

Danny Phantom is a comedy superhero show operating on cartoon logic. Why do ghost experts Jack and Maddie never realize their own kid is a ghost? Why is the status quo restored at the end of every episode? Why does Danny shoot an ectoblast out of his butt that one time? Because it's funny. It's cartoony action fun where the plot is resolved in 22 minutes, there's never any lasting consequences and it's aimed at kids.

DC meanwhile wants to be taken Seriously. Heroes get beaten within an inch of their life, traumatized, killed and even the good guys do messed up things (often to each other). Yes there's action and puns, but also horrific violence, actions have consequences and it's (mostly) aimed at adults. When a main character dies the comics show their family and friends mourning and things are very dramatic. Even though at this point we, the audience can pretty much expect every death to be undone within 2-5 years of publishing, but I digress.

So how do we, the fanfic/fanart creators reconcile these differences when we make our crossovers? We either make DP more serious and somber, or we make DC more comedic.

Suddenly we have a DP verse where the Fentons' bumbling obliviousness is elevated to serious neglect or outright abuse. The GiW are no longer a minor annoyance, they are a serious threat with genocidal plans and a desire to vivisect the protagonist. When actions have consequences, we imagine Danny as dealing with serious PTSD from having to be a solo superhero and witnessing his family's death that one time (and maybe also getting vivisected). Danny is not just a teen superhero, he's now the Ghost King with serious responsibility on his shoulders.

On the flipside, if we make DC more comedic we tend to exaggerate character traits for comedic effect, focus more on the interpersonal dynamics (especially the Batfam) and have the characters act more casual and silly. Suddenly the Batfam goes from a group of seriously messed up individuals who have trouble communicating with each other and fight all the time to Batdad "Kids if you don't stop killing criminals you won't get dessert ffs" Bruce. Violence is played for laughs instead of taken seriously. Yeah they fight, but they still Love Each Other.

And THIS IS PERFECTLY FINE. It's transformative work! And trying to reconcile these disparate fandoms is hard! Fandom is a labor of love. We do it for free. We do it for our own entertainment. And no one is forcing you to read fics you don't like. DLDR and all that.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #meta #danny phantom #dc comics

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musingsofahufflepuff · 3 months

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For You, I’d Fall from Grace

Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader; smut

summary: you’ve had a crush on mattheo for a while now and at one fateful slytherin party you get the chance to make your wildest dream come true

a/n: this one is pure porn, literally just a graphic oral (male receiving) description. i’d say i’m sorry, but i’m not. 18+ under the cut please. enjoy ♡

Music was thumping through the Slytherin common room as you made your way through the crowd. You scan the room trying to find your friends when you bump into a very firm chest.

You flick your eyes up to meet Mattheo Riddle’s face mere centimeters away from yours. He has a casual smile gracing his features, “lost princess?”

You feel heat rise in your cheeks and pool in your core. “Maybe, I was looking for some friends.”

He leans in until his lips ghost over your ear, “I can help you find your way, if you’re interested.” He nips at your earlobe, making you shiver. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

You give a quick nod then you’re in his arms, being led through the mass of students toward the boys dorms. You slip into his room, the door locking behind you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Before you’re fully aware of what’s happening, Mattheo’s lips are forcefully capturing yours. They were soft, a pleasant contrast to the rather heated kiss you were experiencing. Hot breath is against your mouth and Mattheo’s tongue prods at your lip, demanding entrance. You oblige, parting your teeth enough to let his tongue plunge into your mouth. A small whimper escapes you.

That seems to spur Mattheo on, his hands finding their way to the hem of your dress. You hum in approval and allow him to part just long enough to yank the fabric over your body. Mattheo is immediately back on your lips, somehow more aggressive than before. Fingers dig into your hips. A wave of heat rushes over you.

You feel yourself getting pulled, fingertips grasping at your skin, surely going to leave bruises behind. His warmth leaves you for a moment, long enough for you to open your eyes and see him sitting on the bed, posture relaxed and a cocky smirk on his lips. His hands return to your thighs and those deep brown eyes burn on your skin.

“What?”

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” His voice is husky, lust dripping from his words. He slides his hands up your body before landing on your lace bra.

Your heart nearly beats out your chest. Overcome with a spur of confidence, you grab Mattheo by the face and kiss him. He grabs your waist with one hand, yanking you onto his lap.

You suddenly find yourself straddling Mattheo. Tentatively, you grind down on the boy under you. A low groan comes from him as your mouths continue to move against each other. The sound shoots a jolt of electricity through you, making you grind with more force. The hands on your hips encourage your motions while your own hands find their way into Mattheo’s dark curls.

You pull away from the heated kiss to catch your breath, allowing Mattheo an opening to your neck. Between light sucking on your jaw and nips to your ear, Mattheo whispers in his intoxicatingly deep voice, “how do you feel about showing me what else you can do with that mouth baby?”

The pet name sends tingles down your spine, settling down into the heat in your lower abdomen. You’re nodding vigorously before you realize it. Mattheo taps your hip gently, ushering you up so he can remove his jeans. He stands back up and teasingly slow, he undoes his belt. Before he can move onto removing his actual pants, you’re fumbling with the buttons yourself. He takes the opportunity to pull his shirt off as well, making you shudder with how insanely attractive he is. You finally get his pants off, pulling his boxers down with them. His dick, now free from the confines of his underwear, springs up against his stomach. That cocky smirk still on his face, sits back down on his bed, leaning against the headboard. And Salazar if he doesn’t look like a dream.

The fire in your stomach rages hotter as the reality of the situation hits you. Fuck, you’re really about to suck Mattheo Riddle’s dick. Glancing up at his captivating eyes you climb up onto the bed as well, settling between his legs. You take a moment to press a kiss on his lips, which he eagerly returns. You trail a string of gentle kisses over his chest and abdomen. Feeling a little daring, you suck a hickey onto his hip bone.

You take his length in your hand, rubbing small circles on the underside. Mattheo exhales shakily, eyes following your movements. You can’t help yourself from kissing the tip of his dick before giving it a single lick where your thumb previously was. Mattheo releases a noise you take as an indication to keep going, so you do.

You put your tongue at the base of Mattheo’s cock, swiping it up towards the tip. A hand latches onto your hair. You repeat the motion, going tantalizingly slower this time, dragging your tongue along the underside where a vein bulges out. Another soft groan comes from him. You run your hand along his leg, stopping at his thigh to grip the soft flesh. His muscles tense under your palm, showing you just how toned years of quidditch has made him. You can’t stop the quiet moan that escapes you.

You give a few more teasing laps to his dick before the grip on your hair tightens. “Such a fucking tease, be good for me.”

He uses the grip on your head to guide his dick into your mouth. You take a couple moments to savor the feeling of his tip against your tongue, swiping it against the slit.

He inhales sharply, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth. You sink down until you hit the back of your throat. Glancing up you see him already looking down at you, “there we go sweetheart.”

You whimper near silently as you run your tongue along the length of his dick, nose buried in his pelvis. His moan is louder this time and oh so heavenly.

You hallow your cheeks and slowly lift your mouth off Mattheo, popping the rim of the head from your lips before quickly taking him fully in your mouth once again, swallowing him down. Mattheo lets out a surprisingly pornographic moan. And holy shit it was the hottest thing you had ever experienced.

You let your hands resume wandering over his thighs as you continue to bob your head up and down his shaft. After a few more rounds of nearly pulling away and swiftly coming back down Mattheo pushes your head to meet the base, thrusting up making his cock hit the back of your throat. The force and surprise make you gag slightly at the sudden shove, tears prickling in your eyes.

The gagging had apparently been what Mattheo was after, because it caused another moan to erupt out of him.

“Salazar, your mouth feels so good baby,” this time the name makes you moan. “Do you like that baby? Never would have guessed you were such a slut princess.”

You can’t stop the weak whimpers that came out of you as you rhythmically rub your tongue against him. You swallow him so far the tip pushes past the back of your throat, desperate for more praise.

“You were just made for this, huh baby? Fuck!” Mattheo thrusts his hips up as you run your tongue over a particularly sensitive spot.

As Mattheo continues to fuck your throat, you can feel your heart beat throbbing in your pussy and the growing wetness in your underwear. The thrusts have gotten more frantic and you know your throat is going to be bruised to hell tomorrow. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You work your tongue against Mattheo’s cock as it slips back and forth in your mouth. Under your fingertips you feel the boy tense.

“Fuck princess—baby, I’m close.” The muscles in his thighs continue to flex and his cock twitches every few seconds. The fingers in your hair tighten more than you thought possible. You moan louder, matching the sounds escaping Mattheo’s lips.

You feel Mattheo tense one more time before warm cum is spilling into your mouth. You savor the taste of him on your tongue before swallowing. The hand gripping your head loosens, but you don’t let up.

You’re not satisfied with just one.

You don’t stop working your tongue against Mattheo’s shaft, roughly sucking on the head, before restarting your thrusting motion. One of your hands slides up his torso feeling his abs spaz from your relentless administrations. The hand once again tightens its grip on your head, moans and a few whimpers falling out of Mattheo’s mouth.

Soon after, his cock twitches in your mouth again. “Fuck fuck fuck, gonna come again babe,” a low moan follows his words.

You feel Mattheo’s dick release everything it had left and slow your motions. Gently pulling off his cock, you look at his pretty face looking back at you, eyes filled with need. He once again grabs your waist, pulling you back on top of him. Soaked underwear meets his dick and he groans.

It’s gonna be a wild night.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #smut #slytherin boys

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leclerc-hs · 28 days

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can't get you outta my head - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends to lovers!) summary: in which you and charles are in the same friend group and find solace in one another OR you and charles fuck and can’t forget about it warnings: smut under the cut! oral (f-receiving!), outdoor sex, p in v, angst, pining, badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 5.4k! (lengthy) author’s note: IN HONOR OF HITTING 1,600 FOLLOWERS I AM POSTING THIS TODAY!!!! double-postings today!!! i wrote this SOOO fast so sorry if there’s any mistakes. loved writing it tho and i know i was going to make it more enemies originally but making him softer and cutesy just felt right for now. i can always do another one if you guys want!! just let me know what you think! love hearing from you guys!!! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

BENEATH THE BRILLIANT canopy of the sun’s golden embrace, you recline comfortably upon the plush cushions of the lounge chairs, creating a sanctuary of comfort amidst the vast expanse of sand. Around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and textures unfold: vibrant beach towels strewn around carelessly, the glistening ocean stretching endlessly before you, and the verdant palm trees swaying in rhythmic cadence against the bright blue sky.

The sound of the ocean’s embrace upon the sandy shoreline murmurs in the background, a subtle undercurrent beneath the symphony of voices of your friends that fills the air. Your gaze drifts towards a cluster of your friends cavorting in the embrace of the water. Their figures, silhouetted against the shimmering expanse of the ocean, exude a carefree vitality. Like playful spirits unleashed, they tumble and wrestle amidst the crash of the waves, their laughter echoing.

You smile softly listening to a few of the girl’s banter over last night’s drunken escapades, flipping a page of the cheap magazine you purchased earlier.

“Joris a pratiquement mange de la merde hier soir.” Joris practically ate shit last night. Your best friend, also Joris’s girlfriend, to the left of you says in between laughter, as you all careen over with a laugh.

“Au moins, il va bien.” At least he’s fine. You say with a soft smile, turning another page of your magazine. “Can we talk about Antoine shooting a firecracker out of his ass?” The words spark an immediate eruption of laughter, tears threaten to fall from your eyes from the sheer hilarity of the memory.

“Qu’est-ce qui est si drôle?” What’s so funny?

You turn your head and find yourself locking eyes with a pair of captivating green. In that moment, your heart skips a small beat, and a soft smile graces your lips as you gaze warmly at him. “Making fun of Joris and Antoine, bien sûr.” Of course.

A smile plays at the corner of his pink lips, and you can’t help but envy their perfect hue. You can’t help but notice the subtle dimples that grace Charles’ cheeks as he smiles. Did he always have those? With a casual grace, he raises a hand to scratch the side of his stubble before reaching for a towel casually draped over your lounge chair. As he leans over, droplets of water cascade onto your warm skin, a gentle reminder of the ocean’s embrace. You steal a moment to admire the bronzed glow of his skin, the sunlight dancing upon the small beads of water that cling to his sculpted muscles with a tantalizing allure.

A peculiar aura envelops the relationship between you and Charles. You didn’t speak often, although you were in the same friend group, and have known each other for forever. However, in the recent weeks, a shift has occurred. Perhaps it’s the shared experience of a newfound singleness has drawn you closer together, prompting conversations to flow more freely than ever before.

A delicate blush creeps onto your cheeks, a fleeting flush of warmth that you hope goes unnoticed against the backdrop of your sun-kissed skin. You feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you as Charles’s fingers brush lightly against your shoulders while the grabs the towel, igniting a subtle spark between you two.

“Allons-nous au club ce soir?” Are we going to the club tonight? One of your guy friends asks, sinking onto a sandy towel with a groan as he collapses onto the soft grains.

For a moment, maybe a few seconds, silence hangs in the air. As if each person is lost in contemplation, weighing the prospect of the evening’s plans. Then, in a synchronous chorus, a resounding chorus of “yes” erupts from the group, breaking the silence with unanimous enthusiasm.

You remain silent, immersed in the pages of a trash magazine, each turn revealing scandalous tales that undoubtedly blur the lines between fact and fiction. Charles watches you intently from his position in the beach chair across from you, though not directly opposite. Positioned slightly to the right, his gaze lingers on you with a subtle curiosity, his expression betraying a hint of contemplation as he observes you amidst the circle of friends. Always in your own world.

“Lovie, tu participes?” Are you in? Your best friend beside you seems to notice your lack of response. Her arms stretch across the gap between your chairs, and she gently squeezes your wrist, a silent gesture of reassurance and solidarity.

Lovie. You don’t exactly know why you got that nickname, but it stuck. And it carried over to most of the friend group calling you that since childhood.

You lifted your head up, the sun beading down on you causing your eyes to slightly crinkle, as you gave her a look that said duh!

Your friends smile widens as she claps her hands together, her excitement palpable as she sits up from her previously relaxed position. Her enthusiasm is infectious, casting a warm glow over the group as they all eagerly cheer in happiness with her. “Mon dieu!” Thank God! It was a squeal of relief. “Maybe you’ll meet a sexy man and fall in love and have his babies so you can forget all about that loser.”

Your heart clenches at the mere mention of your ex. The smile on your lip’s falters just slightly, but you quickly regain composure, determined not to show a hint of sadness surface while on vacation with your friends. With a subtle effort, you smooth away the brief flicker of vulnerability, masking it beneath a façade of cheerful resilience.

You roll your eyes, “Nous verrons.” We’ll see. Your tone carries a hint of mystery as you look back into your magazine, letting the conversation of your friends flow into a different direction.

“Es-tu sûre que tu devrais en prendre unautre?” Are you sure you should have another? Joris says into your ear, making sure you’re able to hear him over the pulse of the music, his arm slung over the back of the booth behind you. You lean into his body, a drunken smile pulled on your lips.

He harbored a slight concern for you. While you were his girlfriend’s best friend, your friendship dated back to childhood, long before his relationship with her, and he held you in high regard. His care for you ran deep, and ever since your break-up, he knows that you haven’t been the same.

“Arrête de t’inquiéter pour moi.” Stop worrying about me. You shove his shoulder gently, before pointing to your best friend on the dance floor. “Inquiéte-toi pour elle.” Worry about her.

You let out a soft laugh as you witness Joris’s eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his girlfriend standing on the stage. With a knowing smile, you begin to slide out of the booth with intent to make your way to the bar, sensing the need for a fresh drink to accompany the unfolding spectacle.

Before you can even slide out of the booth, a fresh drink—scratch that, a refill of your drink, is placed in front of you. Your gaze follows the masculine hand holding the glass, adorned with an expensive watch at the wrist, tracing its path up the arm until your gaze meets Charles’ intense stare. His eyes, dark and captivating, lock onto yours, already filled with questions and a silent understanding.

You slide back over, silently signaling him to sit beside you. As he eases into the spot beside you, the proximity of his body sends a shiver down your spin, the heat radiating from him igniting a primal longing within you. Your bare skin tingles with anticipation as his presence fills the air with an electric charge, a silent dance of desire playing out between you in the dimly lit confines of the booth.

In the midst of the pulsating club music, words between you two remained scarce. Yet, you both found solace in the quiet companionship that enveloped you both. The energy of the club swirled around you, but the warmth of each other’s presence, you felt a profound sense of ease settle, much like a comforting blanket.

It wasn’t unnoticeable to the rest of the friend group. In fact, it was very noticeable. The way you and Charles seemed to find a connection with one another, especially post break-ups.

It’s not that you were never friends, you just were never as close. So it came as a slight surprise to a few of your friends as they picked up the little changes that were made.

Like when Charles refills your drinks for you. Or when he notices that there is coconut in your meal, which you’re very allergic to, and sends it back to the kitchen.

Like when you remind him to put on sunscreen, knowing he tends to burn easily. Or when you find yourselves sitting out by the fire at night, long after everyone went to sleep, just talking about the most random things.

“The CGI in that movie was terrible!”

“It’s a classic! You can’t hate a classic!”

“That doesn’t make the CGI better!”

“I’ll have you know I’m a culinary expert.”

“Charles, I’ve known you for forever. Don’t lie!”

“I’m an innovator! Who else could turn pasta into charcoal with such ease?”

No matter the topic at hand, you and Charles always found yourselves engulfed in laughter, the gentle sound filling the air with warmth and camaraderie.

You didn’t want sadness to cloud your vacation, but sometimes emotions have a way of washing over you like relentless waves. One of the evenings, while your friends made plans to dine out, you made the wise choice to stay in. Although you didn’t want to miss out, you felt that you were not in the right mindset to be out with everyone. Some protested your decision, expressing concern, but you assured them that you would be fine on your own and ready to party it up all day tomorrow.

Charles shot you a funny look as he slid his hands into one of his pockets, leaning casually against the kitchen archway. His white linen shirt, barely buttoned and snug against his muscles, accentuated his tan, making it seem even more vibrant against the stark contrast of the fabric. A single glance from him stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you as you perched on the bar-stool chair, clad in nothing but a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a well-worn t-shirt. It was your ex-boyfriend’s shirt, a garment you should have long discarded, but its comfort proved too irresistible to part with. Despite the pang of guilt that tugged at your conscience, you found solace in its familiar embrace, a reminder of the past you couldn’t quite let go of yet.

The villa you currently stayed in was beautiful. Its whitewashed walls and wrought-iron accents blended modern and luxury all in one. Inside, the warm glow of the setting sunbathed the spacious rooms, casting an ethereal orange hue over the abundance of white and wood-colored furniture. As the click of the front door echoed through the villa, the chatter of your friends faded into near silence as they departed for dinner, leaving you alone in complete silence.

You find yourself eventually nestled in the corner of the oversized couch, cocooned in the warmth of a fluffy blanket draped over your body. With the television remote in hand, you flip through the channels, searching for something to capture your interest. Nothing quite grabs your attention, until you stumble upon a cheesy rom-com you’ve seen hundreds of times.

Lost in a trance, you’re oblivious to the world around you, the gentle breeze whispering through the open windows. The creak of the front door opening barely registers, and it’s only when Charles’ silhouette materializes in the archway beside the TV that you snap back to reality. A soft smile tugs at the corners of Charles’ lips as he gazes upon you, nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. His heart skips a beat at the sight of you, at the sight of your eyes looking at him with such softness.

“Que fais-tu de retour?” What are you doing back?

He shrugs nonchalantly, pushing off from the wall’s archway and making his way toward you. With an easy grace, he plops down beside you, propping one leg up on another couch cushion and allowing his shoulder and head to half-lean against you.

You both settle in a comfortable silence, the sound of the movie filling the air around you with a comforting ambiance.

“Penses-tu jamais que tu le surpasseras?” Do you ever think you’ll get over him?

The words send your stomach into a frenzy of somersaults, and a tightness forms in your throat, making it difficult to swallow.

You don’t answer immediately, instead you stare ahead at the television, your fingers fumbling with the fabric of the blanket nervously.

“Je l’espère.” I hope so.

His eyes are solemn as you look at him. “Parfois,” Sometimes. He begins, straightening his posture so he can fully look at you. “I think I’ll never get over her.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and though they sting a bit, you understand. You share the same sentiment.

“Mais toi,” But you. His hand reaches to yours, the one fumbling with your thigh. His eyes dart between both of yours, like he’s struggling to formulate his next words. “You just,” He starts before squeezing your hand in his. “You just make my days feel easier.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s trying to say. “My pain, my heartache, just disappears whenever I’m with you.” Your voice is soft as you speak the words. The truth of them daunting.

“Sometimes I just wish I could turn my emotions off.” You say, unwrapping the blanket from your body, so that it only sits underneath you now. “Like I could just fuck someone and move on.”

Charles’ eyes widen slightly as the word ‘fuck’ slips past your lips. He nearly lets out an audible groan, his eyes tracing the contours of your collarbones peeking out from the oversized shirt that slips tantalizingly of your shoulder.

He licks his lips, swallowing a pronounced gulp, as his eyes trail back to your face.

“Yeah.”

You could feel the tension in the air, like the both of you were considering fucking each other here and now. Charles couldn’t escape the thoughts of spreading you out on the cushions right here, spreading your legs and fucking you with his tongue.

As he locks eyes with you, you feel a flutter in your stomach, your thighs clenching involuntarily as his gaze lingers on your lips. You part your lips to speak, but before you can utter another word, a loud burst of commotion erupts through the front door. No doubt your drunken friends, clamoring for the fire pit.

You and Charles find yourselves in an awkward dance since then. Not too awkward, but the idea of you fucking each other escaped neither of your minds.

It was honestly twisted. The fact that Charles couldn’t stop picturing what you would look like beneath him, what your moans would sound like in his ear. He had fucked his fist twice to the though of you since he even heard the word ‘fuck’ slip past your lips on the couch the other night. It was honestly pathetic.

You couldn’t handle it either it seems. You found your eyes lingering on Charles way longer than necessary. The flex of his muscles as he enjoys a morning workout by the villa’s pool, the small smiles he gives you from across the room, and the small touches he gives as he walks by you has you driving yourself up a fucking wall.

So, when your friends decide to head out for a spa day, you and Charles hang back sitting across from one another a tad too far apart on the outdoor couch for it to be normal. It was as if you needed the space to stop from jumping each other’s bones.

The skimpy red bikini you wore did little to ease Charles’ thoughts. But he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the first time in weeks he isn’t thinking about his ex-girlfriend. No, he’s too engrossed in the idea of fucking you. Hearing your sweet little moans he just knows you would have. Feeling your smooth skin beneath the pads of his fingertips.

Charles could feel himself harden just by glancing at you lounging comfortably on the outdoor couch, the clouds covering the sun engulfing you guys in a moment of shade.

Across the couch from him, you tried to do everything but acknowledge Charles’ longing stare. But you couldn’t. Your body was all tense, in need of a release.

“Charles, will you—”

Before you could even finish the sentence, Charles was standing over your figure on the couch. His hardened cock visibly noticeable in his short swimsuit. The muscles of his thighs flexed before you, as he visibly gulped at the vision of your breasts spilling out of the top.

“Assieds-toi droit.” Sit up. He murmurs softly, his voice carrying a gentle command as he shifts, prompting you to straighten your posture.

Was this really about to happen? You really hoped so.

It was as if Charles can see the desire in your eyes, answering the question of if you wanted this in his head almost instantly.

“Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” Can I kiss you? His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, tracing it as he licked his own.

You nodded your head before his lips pressed down onto yours, capturing them in a sweet embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly near your scalp as he deepened the kiss, igniting a surge of warmth and longing between you.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pressing it hotly against yours. He pulls away for a moment, still standing above your sitting figure, as he takes in your blown out pupils.

“Ça a un gout si doux.” Tastes so sweet. His hand remains in your hair, holding your head in place to look at him. His eyes stare at your sightly swollen lips, a clench of need forming in the pit of his stomach.

He falls to his knees before you on the couch, kneeling between your two legs, as his other hand presses against your chest, forcing you to lean back against the cushions of the couch. The sun peeped through the clouds momentarily, allowing you to drink in the sight of just how light his eyes were.

His thumb grazes your bikini cladded core, rubbing light circles in a teasing manner. The pressure of his thumb wasn’t enough, but it was everything you needed.

He looked at you from between your legs, a smirk on his face like he knew just how crazy he was driving you. It was an image you never wanted to forget.

“Touch me.” You begged, a breathy moan leaving your lips as his thumb pressed harder onto your swollen clit.

It was all he needed to hear before sliding your bikini bottoms to the side and shoving his tongue to where you needed him most. The cool air of the outdoors was a stark contrast to the heat you felt between your legs.

He took his time with you, like he wanted to savor every sweet moan you gave him. His tongue flicked around your clit a few times, before wrapping his lips around it. Your hand slid into his brown locks, slightly lightened form the sun over vacation, and pulled as you rutted your hips against his face.

“Mm, that’s it,” He groaned into your cunt, his words vibrating against you, sending your hips into a faster frenzy. He slipped two fingers into you, lifting his head to watch as you lulled your head back against the cushion and took your hands from his head to your breasts. You stretched the bikini top slightly, until your breasts spilled over the tiny triangles, your nipples already hardened from the need that burned within you.

Charles slipped one hand up to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and pinching.

“M’god,” You half-shouted, biting your lip to prevent yourself for being too loud.

“Don’t deprive me from your sweet little moans, yeah?” He pulled his lips off your clit for a few seconds, giving you ample time to look at them glistening in you. You nearly came at the sight of it.

He dropped his head back between your legs, flicking fast kitten licks to your clit, which had you careening forward with a cry of pleasure.

He sucked hard on your clit, eliciting loud mewls from you that were like a sweet melody to his ears. Charles could feel his cock straining against the tightness of his swim suit, he flexed his hips into the couch before him, in need of some sort of relief.

He could feel you teetering on the edge of your orgasm, shoving his face deeper into you, his tongue slipping in and out of you at a fervent pace. It hit you hard. Your hips had a mind of their own, as they rode his face, the bony structure of his nose pressing against your clit sending you into a frenzy.

Charles replaced his tongue with his fingers and watched as you came down from your high. His fingers still working you over as he coaxed you through your orgasm, not letting up.

“I knew you would taste like heaven,” He smirks, finally removing his fingers, before slipping them into his mouth, and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

You groaned, your pupils blown out as you looked at him, your legs still spread and cunt fully exposed to him and the outside air.

“Need more,” You practically begged.

“Need my cock, hm?” You nodded, wasted no time in answering. He pushed himself up from his knees, sitting beside you on the couch as he pushed his swimsuit down enough to free his cock. It was hot and heavy in your hands as you reached for it, precum already dripping from its tip.

You straddled his waist, raising up just enough for him to slip his cock into your already saturated core. Your hands grip the back of the couch behind Charles’ head, your fingers clenching it tightly as you take in each inch of him. His hands grip your waist, large fingers sprayed across as he guides your movements over his cock.

The squeeze of your cunt on his cock was better than Charles could ever imagine. The fact that he had to use his fist before you was honestly a punishment compared to this.

“Mon dieu,” My God. You groan as his cock stretches your walls. You waste no time in working yourself over his cock, the pleasure of it too good for you to do it slow. You chased that second orgasm as it teetered on the edge. You were already so close.

“That close already?” His smirk was permanent on his face as he flexed his hips up into you, hitting you deeper than before.

You nodded, soft mewls escaping your lips constantly. It was as if you couldn’t shut up now. His hands grip your hair tightly, pulling your head back to look up at the sky, as he pulls one of your hardened nipples in between his teeth.

You didn’t have time to tell him you were coming again, but the clench of your walls on his cock was enough of a warning for him. Your walls fluttered around him repeatedly, as his name fell softly from your lips followed with a string of curses.

As if he couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer, he lifted you up off him and placed you to the side, his hot cum spilling over his cock and stomach in stringy spurts. Your body was limp against the cushion, your bathing suit covering nothing.

Still hazy from your climax, you look from the blue cloudy sky to Charles beside you. His eyes were glossy as he smiled, like he was fully content.

“Merci,” Thank you. You said softly, an acknowledgment for him giving you what you mentioned the other night.

He nodded once, giving a small smile as if to say thank you back.

It’s been weeks since you and Charles fucked on the outdoor couch of the vacation villa. You haven’t seen each other much since, not that you expected it. You were thankful it helped you forget about your ex-boyfriend just a little bit more. Like you could bare the idea of meeting other men. Which you were.

You claimed that Charles was a one-time thing. Although it was probably the best sex you’ve ever had, you knew you couldn’t do it again. It was a mutual one-time thing.

So, when you found yourself pressed against the bathroom door of the five-star restaurant, your short little sundress bunched up at your waist, and Charles’ cock buried deep in your cunt, it was a little unexpected. Not completely.

It was hard and quick, nothing but a string of breathy moans between you two as he pressed your chest forward into the door. You both came quickly, your chest flushed red and his cheeks slightly pink as if he just performed a hard workout.

“Who’s your date?” He asks, the words slip out fast, like he’s trying to act like he doesn’t care.

You furrow your eyebrow for a second, before looking at yourself in the mirror, Charles standing tall behind your figure. “Just met him last night,” You flattened your hair as much as you could to make it seem normal. “I’m trying to get back out there.”

Charles smiles at you, although it seems slightly pained. “Good. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t deserve you.” His words were kind, and it made you smile that he even bothered to say it.

“I should get back,” You begin, turning to face him. His eyes look at your lips one last time, like he’s contemplating kissing you again. “I’ll see you next week at Joris’s, right?”

He gave you a small nod.

Charles Leclerc is a liar.

Well, a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you sexually. The way you feel around his cock. The way your breathy moans turn him on to no end. The way your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock. The taste of your cunt on his lips.

He’s a liar if he says he doesn’t fuck his fist almost every night to the thought of you.

But he was also a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you not sexually. The way you loved to read trashy magazines, the way you always fidgeted with the rings on your fingers when you were nervous, the way your eyes glowed whenever you laughed.

So, when Joris mentions you and a new potential boyfriend, he can’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the idea. The clench of Charles’ jaw at the sight of you and this ‘potential boyfriend’ across the yard at baby shower, does not slip past Joris’s eyesight.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two?

Charles clutches the neck of the beer bottle in his fingers, bringing it to his lips, before straying his eyes from you to Joris beside him.

Charles’ eyes gleamed like he didn’t know how to answer this without admitting feelings he hasn’t even admitted to himself. He shook his head. No. Because there wasn’t.

“Vous étiez proches en vacances.” You guys were close on vacation.

It was just a statement, as if he wanted to see Charles’ reaction. Charles didn’t know if Joris was trying to insinuate anything, but Charles didn’t respond. Not as Joris’s girlfriend, your best friend, popped up behind you both, a tray of cupcakes in her hand.

You sat across the yard, deep in conversation with Theo, at one of the many heavily decorated picnic tables. The short purple sundress that adorned your body is a vision of effortless elegance. Delicate straps grace the shoulders, framing your breasts with a feminine charm. The skirt flows gently with every movement, swaying gracefully in the warm breeze.

You both knew it wasn’t anything serious, at least yet, but he had a way of making you smile, nonetheless. Despite only knowing each other for a few weeks and sharing a handful of dates, he made a point to take his time with you. He was considerate, never pressuring you into anything, especially after you had confided in him about your previous messy relationship one night.

“Tu es belle.” You’re beautiful. Theo whispered into your ear, his fingers toying with the fabric at the ends of your dress, resting right above your knees.

You blushed, your cheeks flaring a light shade of red, as you smiled into your lap. You lifted your head slightly, looking across the yard, where your eyes met with Charles. His eyes already watching you with such heat in his eyes it made your stomach do a somersault.

He felt an intense surge of resentment towards the guy who dared to lay his hands on you, his anger boiling as he watched him lean into whisper into your ear. Your cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson under his gaze, betraying the effect of his words. What could he possibly be saying to you?

It was just his cock you were coming around last week. So, why is this fiery sense of jealousy threatening to consume him entirely?

It didn’t make sense. How could he feel such intense jealousy over someone he never even had a real relationship with? He never even felt this jealous over his ex-girlfriend.

It was just sex.

He told himself repeatedly. It was just sex. But it only made the burn in his chest only grow more.

You were a liar if you said that Charles Leclerc is never on your mind. You were a liar if you said that it was just sex.

Because, for some inexplicable reason, you can’t seem to get Charles Leclerc out of your mind. You remember how he made sure none of your dishes contained coconut, how he bought you those trashy magazines he knew you loved so much, and how he always made sure that you were smiling.

So, when Charles Leclerc stood silhouetted in the doorway of your front door, the moonlight casting a soft glow around him in the middle of the night, you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

You took note of his hair in disarray, as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times, and the soft grey sweats that hung loosely on his hips. The taut muscles of his arms peeked out against the seams of the black t-shirt he wore.

“Je n’arrête pas de penser à toi.” I can’t stop thinking about you. He utters the words with a look of anguish etched on his face, each step carefully navigating around your figure as he stands in the foyer of your apartment, a space he’s been in countless times over the years. But never alone. Never without friends.

You close the door and turn to look at him, not realizing just how close he was to you. “It’s like you,” he begins but freezes, taking a step closer toward you. You take a step back, the tight tank top you wore did little to hide your hardened nipples from the cold air, and your back hit the front door. “It’s like you possess every thought I have. Every single thought. You. You. You.”

You sucked in a breath as you looked into his eyes, more darkened than normal, almost as if he was angry at you.

“Qu’est-ce que tu m’as fait?” What did you do to me? His fingers trail up your arm to your collarbones, a trail of goosebumps following in their wake.

You gulp audibly, your lips slightly parted from the feel of his fingertips on your skin for the first time in weeks. You struggle to find the words until Charles is pleading.

He laughs slightly sarcastic, like he can’t believe this is happening to him. “I even bought those trashy magazines that you like so much, a whole stack of them at my place, because I cannot get you out of my fucking head.”

“Dit moi, it’s not just me.” Tell me.

You would be a liar if you said it’s just him. Your hands trail up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing them in comfort as you stare into his eyes. His breaths getting heavier as your fingers trail his t-shirt classes skin, like he was yearning for it so much, like it burned him.

“It’s not just you.”

He doesn’t give you time to say much more, not until his lips are crashing down onto yours again. Like he couldn’t last one more second without your lips pressed to his.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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stormsthatrage · 4 months

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Imagine: Samantha Manson rents an apartment with other students in university because she wants to pay her own way through college. One night, the other students throw a party. Sam takes refuge in the campus library during this, because she does not want to be around that. But eventually the library closes for the night, and Sam has to go back.

Sam walks in on the partygoers, still there, hanging out around a "summoning ritual" for fun. They're cleaning up -- the ritual didn't work, obviously.

Sam wordlessly halts the clean-up efforts in their tracks by taking one look at the summoning circle, seizing a paintbrush, bodying people out of the way, and making a dozen minor adjustments to the summoning circle.

It's Sam. No one stops her, and no one is brave enough to ask any questions.

Sam finishes, then walks off without saying anything.

The partygoers look at each other, and then immediately try the summoning ritual again.

(Look, Sam has a reputation as a goth and, if you believe in that stuff, as a witch. Not to say that any of them actually believe in that stuff, but sometimes it's fun to pretend like you do, and, well. They already decided to give it their best shot tonight, and they know that a Sam-approved summoning circle is the best shot they'll get.)

They read out the spell. The candles flare, the flame turning a dark, poisonous green, then blow out. A surge of black light shoots up from the summoning circle, and a presence thickens the air around them.

Before them appears a being that they know, in their soul, is not of this world.

A creature of the realm of the dead looms before them, crown ablaze with fury. "Who dares--"

Sam, nonchalant, wanders back into the room. Wanders over to the summoning circle. Casually erases, with the tip of her shoe, what they know from their brief study of their occult book to be the containment layer of the summoning circle.

Casually says, "Hey, Danny, what pizza toppings do you want?"

The presence fades, but does not vanish completely. "Oh, come on Sam," says the being that an animal part of them recognizes as of the realm of the dead. "What the hell, you know I hate that."

Sam wanders back out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Well, I hate having my thermos broken!"

The being floats out of the summoning circle, and takes on the shape of a boy, touching down to the ground. The presence fades even further, until they wouldn't be able to tell the creature wasn't a boy if they hadn't already seen.

"Okay, first of all, that was at least 50% Tucker's fault--" it says, trailing after Sam. The conversation becomes unintelligible as they go to Sam's room and shut the door.

The partygoers are left in silence, with paint that has been turned to ash, brand-new candles that have been burned to stubs, and a terrifying new knowledge of the existence of the beyond.

And, for the unluckiest of them, terrifying new knowledge that the person they share a roof with has regular, real, dealings with the dead.

(Twenty minutes later, the pizza arrives. With a pineapple topping, of course.)

#danny phantom #danny phantom headcanon #danny phantom snippet #snippet #samantha manson #danny fenton #everyone who witnessed the events of the party is suddenly very wary of all of sam's friends #they don't know who is a human...

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sytoran · 24 days

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home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries.

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile.

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas.

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila.

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him.

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically.

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie.

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls.

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly.

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair.

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?”

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art.

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily.

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?”

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.”

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair.

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts.

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely.

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly.

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot.

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from.

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest.

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness.

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air.

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response.

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting.

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself.

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure.

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes.

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange.

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader smut #top reader #sub natasha romanoff #dom reader #bottom natasha romanoff #butch4femme #butch reader #femme4butch

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