#I'll have you know I have almost an entire plot in my head for one of my 3 merfic ideas for this show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killerplink · 3 months ago

Text

DEVOTION

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Plot: A fight with Jason gets heated—sharp words, stubborn tempers, neither of you backing down. But when the tension snaps, it turns into something else entirely. Something raw, desperate, and messy.

Words: 10k

The apartment door slams behind you both, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet space. Your heels clack against the hardwood as you stalk toward the bedroom, too pissed to even look at him right now. Jason follows, his heavy boots thudding after you, that cocky swagger in every step even though you're very clearly fuming.

"Are you really gonna be mad all night?" he asks, tone half lazy, half exasperated.

You whip around so fast your hair flies over your shoulder, finger already pointed at his chest. "Yes! Jason, I swear to God, you're fucking impossible!"

His brows shoot up, that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. "What'd I do now, doll?"

"What'd you do? Are you serious?" You step closer, eyes flashing, and jab a finger into his chest. "You almost started a fight at the restaurant! Over nothing! Just—someone bumped into me, and suddenly you're ready to crack skulls like you're still some street kid with nothing to lose, except you have everything to lose, Jason! I have everything to lose!"

That softens his smirk, just a little. But it doesn't disappear, not entirely. "Baby, I had it under control."

"No, you didn't!" Your voice breaks on the words, frustration and fear tangled up too tight in your chest. "You never have it under control when you get like that. You stop thinking. It's like you don't even care what happens to you."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You're bein' dramatic."

"Oh, fuck you." You turn away, arms crossed tight, nails digging into your own skin like you can hold yourself together if you just squeeze hard enough. "I'm not being dramatic, Jay. I'm scared. Every time you act like your life doesn't matter, it scares the shit out of me because your life does matter. To me."

That knocks some of the wind out of his cocky sails, but true to form, Jason Todd never backs down that easily. "I can handle myself, baby. I've been in worse fights before you even knew me."

"And maybe that's the problem!" You spin around again, hands flung wide. "You're so used to throwing yourself into danger like you've got a death wish, you don't even think about the people who love you, who have to watch you do it. Who have to fucking wait and hope you come home in one piece."

His jaw clenches, that sharp edge of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. "I came home tonight, didn't I?"

"Barely! If Dick hadn't dragged you out of there—"

"—I would've walked out just fine on my own," he cuts in, voice hard, like he's this close to losing his temper too.

You both stand there, breathing hard, anger seeping through every pore. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, anger and fear and love all tangled into a knot you can't untie. And goddamn him, even now, with his blood still running hot from almost throwing down, with that cocky little glint still in his eye—he looks good. Messy hair, jaw clenched tight, that black shirt stretched over his broad chest, his hands flexing like he still has adrenaline to burn.

You want to shake him. You want to kiss him. You want to scream until your throat hurts.

Jason exhales, slow and heavy, like he's trying to ease some of that heat out of his chest before you both say something you can't take back.

"Baby," he says, quieter now, "I'm fine."

Your throat closes up. "For now."

He takes a step closer, hands sliding to your waist, fingers curling into your dress. "I'm not goin' anywhere, pretty girl."

You shake your head, eyes stinging. "You can't promise that."

Jason sighs as he leans down, forehead tipping against yours. "What do you want me to say, huh? That I'll never lose my temper again? That I'll play nice and walk away every time some asshole gets in my face? That's not who I am."

"I know," you whisper. "But it's who I wish you could be. Just for me."

That hits somewhere deep, somewhere tender he doesn't let many people see. But instead of softening, Jason leans into the heat instead because that's how he knows to handle fear, with fire.

"C'mere," he mutters, dragging you into him, arms wrapping tight around your waist. "You wanna fight with me? Do it right here, baby. Get it out of your system."

You shove at his chest, and he catches your wrist, twisting you into him like a dance, his breath warm against your ear.

"Or," he says low, voice all gravel and heat, "you can find a better way to work out all that attitude."

"Fuck off," you snap, but it's weaker now, your anger unraveling into something messier, hotter.

He chuckles, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "C'mon, pretty girl. You're pissed, I'm pissed, and you're standin' here looking like that." His hands slide down, grabbing your ass hard through your dress. "We both know exactly how this night's gonna end."

Your breath catches, nails curling into his chest again, not pushing this time, just holding on.

"Still mad at me, baby?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He grins against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. "Let me make it up to you."

Your hands land flat on his chest, shoving him back, catching him off guard enough that he stumbles two steps out of the bedroom. And before he can say a damn word, you slam the door right in his stupid, handsome, reckless face. Not locked, just shut, because locking it feels too final, too mean, and you're pissed, but not that pissed.

Jason stares at the door for half a second, then his forehead drops against it with a low thud, and he knocks his head against it once, twice, just hard enough to feel it.

"Fuck."

He didn't mean to ruin the night. He never means to ruin shit when it comes to you. But the moment that asshole's hand brushed against your ass—innocent or not—it flipped a fucking switch in him. And maybe that's fucked up, maybe he's got a million unresolved issues tied to losing everyone he's ever given a shit about, but you?

You're his. His girl, his future, his everything, and seeing someone else's hand anywhere near you sends him spiraling into that ugly, possessive part of himself that only you've ever managed to soften.

And yeah, maybe the guy didn't mean it, maybe it was just a crowded restaurant and accidents happen, but Jason's not the kind of man who plays it cool. Not when it comes to you. Not when he loves you so much it hurts sometimes, sitting right there under his ribs like a bruise he can't stop poking.

He presses his palms to the door, wishing he could just rewind the whole night—go back to you looking so pretty at the restaurant, all smiles and soft touches, letting him steal kisses between courses. You'd been happy. And then he fucked it up. Again.

Inside the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers curled into the sheets, trying to hold back the sting in your eyes. You won't cry—you won't—but your throat's tight, and your chest aches, and the night feels like it's unraveling right between your fingers.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. It's Tim's fucking birthday, for God's sake. The restaurant had been beautiful, the food actually good for once, the atmosphere soft and warm with all your friends laughing and talking and teasing each other.

And then some random guy brushed past you on his way to the bathroom, bumping your hip, and Jason went feral. You love that he's protective—God, you do—but Gotham is full of crazy assholes, and you don't want him starting a fight with someone who might pull out a gun and blow his brains out over a misunderstanding.

The thought makes your stomach churn, fear sliding ice cold down your spine, and you have to shake it off before it eats you alive. You stand, fingers reaching behind you to unzip your dress, and it slides off your body in a whisper of fabric, pooling at your feet. And that's when you catch your reflection in the mirror, and yeah, no wonder he couldn't keep his hands off you all night.

The lingerie underneath? It's not the kind you wear every day. This is the good shit—black lace and thin straps, sheer panels teasing the curves of your tits, a matching thong barely covering anything, thin enough to show just how wet you already are.

Because for all the shit he's pulling tonight, Jason's still your hot ass, broad shouldered, cocky as hell boyfriend, and your pussy? She does not hold grudges.

You're still mad. You still wanna shake him until his teeth rattle. But you also want him to fuck you so hard you forget why you were even mad to begin with.

You sigh, tug open the bedroom door, and march straight into the living room, chin high, steps confident even though your knees are still a little weak from all that adrenaline. And, yeah, maybe from how fucking good he made you cum this morning.

Jason's slouched on the couch, head tipped back, hands dragging down his face, and when he hears your footsteps, he looks up, and freezes.

His eyes rake over you, slow and dark, tongue darting out to wet his lips like his mouth's gone dry. "Jesus Christ."

You cross your arms under your tits, pushing them up just a little higher. "What? Cat got your tongue, big guy?"

His gaze flicks from your face to your tits to the sheer lace stretched over your hips, and the way the thin strip of fabric between your legs is already dark with how wet you are.

"You're tryin' to fuckin' kill me," he mutters, half to himself, half to you.

You cock a hip, all attitude, even though your pulse is hammering. "Thought you liked a challenge."

Jason pushes up from the couch, moving slow, shoulders broad and tense, every line of him saying he's holding himself back—barely. "You're still mad at me."

"Furious," you agree.

"And you're standin' there looking like that."

You glance down at yourself, trailing a finger over the top of your bra, down the center of your stomach. "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?"

He's on you in two steps, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other grabbing a handful of your ass, yanking you flush against him. "Gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, baby."

"Promises, promises."

He kisses you hard enough to steal your breath, hands already roaming, already tugging at the straps of your bra, already ready to tear you apart and put you back together again, but you're faster. You grab two handfuls of his shirt, spinning him around and shoving him back onto the couch. He goes down without a fight, grinning like the cocky bastard he is, because you both know you can't actually budge him unless he lets you.

But fuck, does it turn him on when you try.

Jason sprawls into the cushions, legs spread, hands braced on his thighs like he's daring you to climb on top of him, but instead, you drop to your knees between his legs. His whole body tenses, chest rising slower, breath catching because you—all pissed off, all attitude, all tits spilling out of that black lace bra—are kneeling right there, looking up at him like you're about to ruin his fucking life.

And for once, Jason Todd has nothing to say.

You reach for his belt, slow and deliberate, dragging the leather free of the loops with a sharp tug, and you swear you see his fingers twitch. He's already getting hard, already pressing against the front of his jeans, already so fucking easy for you.

The buckle clinks as you undo it, popping the button next, tugging the zipper down with a sound that seems louder than it should be. And then you pull his jeans and boxers down just far enough to free his dick, and—fuck.

He's so fucking big, already thick and flushed, veins standing out along his length, and a bead of precum clings to the slit, catching the low light. Your pussy throbs on sight alone, clenching around nothing, still sore from the last time he was inside you.

Jason's hand lifts, fingers reaching for the back of your head—because of course he wants to grab your hair, guide your mouth, fuck your throat—but you slap his hand away, sharp and quick.

"No touching."

He freezes like you've just short-circuited every thought in his head. "What?"

"No. Touching." You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, giving him one slow, punishing stroke, twisting your wrist just the way he likes. "You wanna act reckless? You wanna scare the shit outta me? You wanna start fights over shit that doesn't matter? Then you can sit there with your hands to yourself while I handle this."

Jason's jaw clenches, shoulders tight, every muscle in his thighs twitching, but he obeys. Barely. His hands grip the edge of the couch so tight his knuckles go white.

You lean in, licking up the underside of his cock in one slow, wet drag, ending with a kiss to the tip that leaves your lips shiny with precum. "You're such a fucking idiot, you know that?"

"Yeah, baby," he rasps, voice already rougher. "I know."

You pump him slow, fingers squeezing just right, thumb swiping through the slick at his tip before you slide down again.

"What if you got yourself shot tonight, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do if you get yourself killed because you can't stand someone breathing in my direction?"

"Fuck." His head tips back, throat flexing, cock leaking even more into your palm.

"Who's gonna love me the way you do? Who's gonna fuck me if you're dead, Jason?" You squeeze his dick just to see his hips jerk. "Who else knows how to ruin me like you do?"

"Baby—"

"No. Don't talk." You flick your tongue against the tip, barely a taste, before you sit back on your heels, jerking him slow and mean. "You don't get to talk, you reckless, possessive, stupid fucking man."

His abs tighten, hands still white-knuckling the couch, and his cock twitches in your grip, a fresh bead of precum sliding down the side. "You love that I'm possessive."

You glare up at him, lips curling. "I do. But not when it puts you in danger, asshole." You kiss the tip again, softer this time. "Not when it makes me scared I'm gonna lose you."

Jason's breath stutters, and you see it. That crack in his tough guy armor, the one only you ever get to see. But you don't let him soften.

Not yet. Instead, you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock again, pumping him faster, twisting your wrist just right, watching his thighs tense and his hips fight not to thrust up into your mouth.

"Keep your hands there," you murmur, voice all sweet and mean at once. "And maybe��maybe—I'll let you cum down my throat."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

His head falls back, a bead of sweat sliding down his neck, and you know you've got him right where you want him.

Jason yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, not even bothering with unbuttoning it, because if you're gonna make him suffer, the least he can do is give you something to look at. And fuck, do you look.

Your hands rest on his thick thighs for a second, gaze dragging over every inked inch of him—the dark ink across his chest, the jagged lines along his ribs, the script down his arms that you've traced with your tongue a hundred times before. He's so fucking hot, all muscle and attitude, sprawled out, dick rock hard in your grip, glistening with spit and precum.

"Enjoyin' the view?"

His voice is pure gravel, but there's a waver in it, like he's already hanging by a thread.

"Shut up."

You lean in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock again, tracing that thick vein with the tip of your tongue until you reach the head, circling it slowly before you take him into your mouth, lips stretching, jaw aching already, but you don't stop. You never stop.

He's too fucking big, he always is, but you try anyway, sinking lower, feeling the weight of him press against your tongue, the blunt head nudging the back of your throat.

"Greedy little thing," Jason mutters, hands twitching, and you see it. The instinct, the need to grab your hair and fuck your throat until you're crying.

But you slap his thigh sharply. "I said no touching."

"Baby—"

"No."

You sink back down, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him deep until your throat spasms around the fat tip, gagging. Tears prick your eyes, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but you fucking love it. Love the way his thighs tense, love the way his dick jumps on your tongue, love how fucking desperate he looks.

Jason's chest heaves, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "You're evil."

You hum around him, the vibration making him swear under his breath, and you pull off with a filthy pop, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock before you drag your tongue up the side again.

"Yeah? And what's that make you for loving it?"

"Completely fucked."

You grin, all teeth, and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster, sucking him down until you gag again, drool dripping down your chin, slicking his cock even more. Your thighs press together, your pussy throbbing, panties soaked through. You can feel it, the sticky mess between your legs, the ache in your cunt, the way your body needs him, no matter how mad you are.

Jason groans, deep and low, and you glance up at him through wet lashes, seeing the flush on his chest, the tension in his jaw, the muscles jumping in his stomach. He's so fucking close already, you can tell, and every time he tries to lift a hand, you slap it back down, keeping him helpless beneath you, all that strength and power completely useless unless you let him use it.

"Baby, please." His voice cracks, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever heard.

You pull off one more time, stroking him fast and messy, your spit slick hand gliding easily along his length. "Please what?"

"Please lemme touch you."

You shake your head, licking up the underside again, tongue teasing his slit before you suck the head back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks until his hips buck, just once, just enough to choke you again. You swallow hard, tears sliding down your cheeks, and his dick throbs so hard you can feel it on your tongue.

"Be good," you murmur around him, voice muffled and obscene, "and I'll let you cum."

Jason's head falls back, a broken groan ripping from his throat, and you know you've got him. You sink back down, taking him as deep as you can, lips stretched tight around the fat width of his cock, spit and precum slicking your chin as you work him with all the devotion you can muster. What you can't fit—and there's always part of him you can't fit—you stroke with your hand, fingers gliding over the thick base, your palm sticky with drool and his slick.

Your tongue works the head, lapping up every drop of precum he leaks, tasting that salty, addictive tease of what's coming, and you fucking love it. You flick your tongue against his slit, suck gently on the sensitive tip before you sink down again, sucking hard, cheeks hollowed so tight your jaw aches, but you don't fucking care.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Jason groans, his voice wrecked, head tipped back against the couch, muscles tight like he's holding himself together with sheer fucking will. "You're perfect, baby. Mouth so goddamn good—fuck, you always know how to suck me just right."

The praise makes your pussy clench hard, heat flooding your belly, and you double down, bobbing your head faster, working him with both your mouth and hand until your throat burns and your jaw trembles. Every time you pull back, you leave a messy trail of spit and precum glistening along his length, but you dive right back in, tongue swirling around the head before you take him deep again.

"Look at you," Jason breathes, his voice low and rough. "So fuckin' pretty like this. My perfect girl. You love this dick, don't you?"

You hum around him, the vibration making his whole body twitch, and he groans so low it vibrates in your chest. You pull back just enough to gasp, "Love it, Jay. Best fucking dick I've ever had."

"Yeah?" His grin is sharp, dangerous. "Then show me, baby. Show me how much you love it."

Challenge fucking accepted. You take him deep again, swallowing around the head, ignoring the gag reflex that flares up as you press lower, working him into your throat until your nose brushes the skin at the base of his cock. You gag again, spit bubbling past your lips, but you don't stop. You fucking love how heavy he feels on your tongue, how thick and hot and perfect he is, filling your mouth like he was made for it.

Jason's fists clench at his sides, his whole body trembling with restraint. "So good for me, baby," he mutters, voice cracking with it. "So fuckin' good. My pretty, filthy fucking girl. Takin' me so deep—fuck, 'm gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill that perfect mouth."

You moan around him, and that's it. His hips jerk, cock swelling, and then he's cumming, thick ropes of cum spilling across your tongue, hot and salty and so much, it makes you whimper as you swallow, throat working hard to take it all.

He always cums a lot, his balls emptying in pulse after pulse, and you keep sucking, milking him through it, letting every drop slide down your throat until your belly feels warm with it. His cock throbs against your tongue, so sensitive it makes his hips twitch every time your tongue flicks over the head, but you don't stop until you know he's completely spent.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, voice rough and almost shaky. "Gonna kill me one of these days."

You pull back slowly, licking your swollen lips, wiping the mess from your chin with the back of your hand, and grin up at him, all fucked-out satisfaction. Jason pulls you right into his lap, and you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself.

His hands slide down to grab your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, grinding you down against his cock, still hard and slick with your spit, and you moan when you feel the thick length press up against your soaked lace panties.

"Fuck," Jason mutters, dragging you along his cock again, feeling how drenched you are even through the lace. "That pretty pussy misses me already, huh?"

"Jay," you murmur, voice soft, needy, and when you lean in, he catches your mouth in a kiss—hot, messy, all tongue and teeth, licking into you like he's starving for your taste.

He groans low when he tastes himself on your tongue, dirty and possessive, and you whimper into his mouth, hips moving on their own, grinding down against him, chasing friction.

You break the kiss to breathe, forehead resting against his, and your fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck as you whisper, "Do you love me?"

Jason's hands flex on your ass, holding you tighter, and his voice is low, earnest when he says, "You know I do, baby. Love you so fuckin' much."

You lick your lips, eyes dark with want. "Then fuck me like you mean it."

His eyes flash—something feral, something wild, and before you can say anything else, he's moving, standing up with you in his arms like you weigh nothing before he lays you down on the couch, his jeans and boxers kicked off in one rough move. He kneels over you, hands already tugging your bra down until your tits spill out, and he doesn't even bother unclasping it before he's on you.

"Love these tits," he mutters between kisses, licking over one nipple, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go with a wet pop. His tongue flicks over the other, sharp and teasing, before he closes his lips around it, sucking hard until you gasp and arch into him. "So fuckin' pretty, baby. Could spend all day suckin' on these."

You tug at his hair, breathless, moaning when he drags his teeth over your nipple, just the right amount of rough. He leaves a trail of messy hickeys down the curve of your tits, marking you like the possessive asshole he is, and you swear your pussy gets even wetter from it.

He kisses down your stomach, hands already hooking into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to get access to you. "Love this body," he murmurs, licking over the waistband before kissing your hipbone. "Love this pussy. Love you, baby."

You whimper, spreading your legs instinctively, and he groans at the sight of your panties clinging to your soaked folds, the lace darkened with how wet you are. His fingers trace along the edge of the fabric, barely touching you, just enough to make your thighs twitch in frustration.

Then his tongue flicks out, teasing you through the fabric, just the lightest drag of warmth over your clit, and you jolt, hips twitching up, chasing more.

Jason hums, amused, as he pulls back, blowing cool air against the damp spot where his tongue just was. "So fuckin' wet for me already," he mutters, voice wrecked, his breath hot against your cunt.

His fingers slide down, pressing against the soaked lace, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit, just enough to make you ache but not enough to satisfy.

Your hips stutter, desperate for more friction, but he doesn't give it to you. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his scruff scratching at your sensitive skin, and then, another flick of his tongue, this time firmer, tracing over your clit through the thin barrier of lace.

"Jay—" Your fingers tighten in his hair, trying to pull him closer, but he only chuckles, the vibrations making you tremble.

"You love this, don't you?" His voice is thick with hunger, fingers still rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit. "Love bein' all messy for me, panties soaked, beggin' for my mouth..."

He leans in again, dragging his tongue over you, pressing the fabric against your cunt, making it cling to every swollen, aching inch of you. Then his teeth close around the lace, tugging just enough to make you feel it before letting go.

Your thighs tremble, your body desperate for more, but he just keeps playing with you, running his tongue along the slick fabric, soaking it even more, his fingers pressing right against your entrance, but never giving you what you need.

"Jason—" you whimper, pushing up against his mouth, but he only smirks, pressing another teasing, barely-there kiss over your clit.

"Patience, pretty girl," he murmurs, eyes dark, voice rough.

He finally hooks a finger into the crotch of your panties, pulling them aside to bare you to him, and then his mouth is on you. Hot, wet, tongue sliding through your folds before fucking into you, slow and deep, licking you open like he's savoring every drop.

You moan his name, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his big hands grab your thighs and hold you open, spreading you wide like he's got all the time in the world to devour you.

"Keep 'em open, baby," he growls, voice muffled between your thighs. "Wanna see this pussy when I eat you."

He fucks you with his tongue, nose brushing against your clit, and every time you try to roll your hips or squirm away from the intensity, he holds you down and just keeps going, messy and obscene, spit and slick dripping down to the couch beneath you.

Jason groans into your pussy, the sound vibrating against your clit, and he sucks. Soft at first, just enough to make you gasp, before he latches on and really sucks, lips wrapped around that sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue flicking against it, over and over, relentless.

"F-Fuck—Jay—" Your voice is all breathy, wrecked, your fingers pulling at his hair, but it only spurs him on.

He hums again, mouth still latched to your clit, and then drags his tongue down, lapping at your folds, hot and messy and so deep you feel it in your gut. He groans like he's starving for you, like he could live off this alone, tongue pushing inside again, fucking you slow and deep before dragging up to swirl around your clit.

And then he does it again. And again. And again.

His hands squeeze at your thighs, holding you open, keeping you spread, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into your trembling skin, soothing even as his mouth drives you insane.

"You taste so fuckin' good, pretty girl," he rasps against your soaked cunt, his lips slick, his chin glistening with your arousal. "Could eat you for hours."

He presses a soft kiss right against your clit before flattening his tongue, licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy, gathering every drop of slick before pushing his tongue back inside you.

You keen, legs twitching, and he groans into you, hands tightening, like he can feel you dripping for him.

"Goddamn, look at you," he mutters, breath hot against your cunt as he pulls back just enough to admire the mess he's making of you. "Drippin' down my fuckin' chin, baby—"

The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on you echo in the room, filthy and desperate, and all you can do is whimper and take it.

When he pulls back just enough to suck your clit into his mouth again your whole body jolts, and he hums in satisfaction, eyes locked on you as your mouth falls open on a gasp.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs against you, every word vibrating against your skin. "Cum for me. Wanna taste you."

It hits you hard, your back arching, thighs trembling in his grip as you cry out, body clenching tight before it melts into pleasure. You swear you see stars, the intensity making your head spin, and he groans low in his throat as he licks you through it, sucking every drop you give him, cleaning you up with his tongue like a man fucking starving.

He doesn't stop until you're trembling, oversensitive and gasping for breath, your hands tugging weakly at his hair, begging for a break. When he finally pulls back, his mouth and chin are glistening, and he wipes his face with the back of his hand, grinning down at you like the devil himself.

"Goddamn, baby," he mutters. "Tastes even better when you're mad at me."

Jason flips you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing, handling you exactly the way you love—rough enough to remind you how much stronger he is, gentle enough to show he'll never actually hurt you. And you already know what he wants, so you arch your back, pushing up onto your hands and knees, glancing over your shoulder with a bratty little smirk that makes his jaw clench.

His hands slide down your sides, slow, deliberate, before they settle on your hips, fingers digging in just to hear you gasp. Then he grabs the lace of your panties, tugging them down over your ass, baring your soaked cunt and the mess he already made between your thighs.

"Fuck," he mutters, palming your ass, squeezing and spreading you open to get a better look. "Always so fuckin' pretty back here."

The first slap lands sharp, making you jolt forward, your slick thighs trembling. The sting blooms hot across your skin, and you whimper, but it only makes you arch deeper, pushing your hips back toward him.

Jason watches, transfixed, as your pussy clenches around nothing, dripping slick onto his cock when he presses the thick head between your legs. He's still hard, precum leaking from the swollen tip, and you rock your hips, rubbing your soaked folds against him until he curses under his breath.

"Needy little thing," he grits out, guiding his cock to your entrance. "Can't even pretend you're not desperate for me."

He starts pushing in, splitting you open slow, and the stretch knocks the air from your lungs, leaving you trembling under him. "Oh, fuck—"

"Always so fuckin' tight for me," Jason groans, one hand stroking down your stomach, feeling the way your body stretches to take him. His fingers slip lower, over your clit, slick and swollen, and you shiver all over when he rubs slow circles over it. "Goddamn, baby."

You rock back, taking him deeper, moaning as your pussy clenches down hard around him. He curses, leaning over you, chest pressed to your back, and murmurs low in your ear, "You want me to fuck you like I mean it, huh?"

You nod frantically, words catching in your throat, and Jason groans, pulling back just enough to grab your hips, steadying you before sliding in deeper, bottoming out with one slow, brutal thrust.

He gives you a second, like he always does, letting you adjust because he knows he's big, knows he's a lot, and he loves you too much to hurt you.

But you're impatient, your body burning with need, so you glance back over your shoulder, panting, "Thought you said you loved me."

His jaw tightens, a flush spreading down his chest, and he growls, "I do."

"Then fucking prove it," you challenge, and that's it, the last frayed thread of his self-control snaps.

Jason's hips slam into yours, driving his cock so deep you see stars, and you cry out, fingers scrambling for purchase against the cushions. His hands grip your waist, holding you still so all you can do is take it, body jerking with each brutal thrust, wet sounds filling the room every time his cock splits you open.

Your cunt grips him like a vice, soaked and clenching around him, dragging him back in every time he pulls out, and the slick slide is so obscene, so messy, it only makes him fuck you harder. His hips snap against your ass, the slap of skin on skin echoing, and you bury your face in your arms, moaning his name like a prayer.

"Still wanna fucking die, you idiot?" you gasp between moans, glaring at him over your shoulder, and Jason groans, dropping one hand to slap your ass again.

"Shut up," he pants, driving in deep enough to knock the air out of you. "God, baby—you're so fuckin' wet for me."

"Because you're—you're so fucking stupid," you sob, half-scolding, half-moan. "What if—what if you get yourself killed, and who the fuck's gonna fuck me like this?"

"Jesus Christ," Jason groans, the filthy confession sending a sharp pulse of heat straight to his cock, making it throb inside you. "No one, baby, no one else is ever gonna touch this pussy."

He fucks you harder, deeper, grinding into you until you're shaking under him, toes curling, nails clawing at the couch. Every thrust punches little gasps from your throat, and you can't stop talking, can't stop scolding him even as he's fucking you stupid.

"You love me?" you pant, voice high and breathless.

"Love you so much, baby," he groans, leaning over you, lips against your ear. "Love you, love this body, love this perfect fuckin' pussy. All mine, baby. All fuckin' mine."

"Show me," you whisper, voice shaking. "Show me how much."

Jason's hips snap forward, hard enough to drive you into the couch, and you moan his name, cunt squeezing tight around him. "I'll show you, doll," he pants, sweat dripping down his back. "I'll show you exactly how much."

His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, spreading your ass, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks tomorrow, and you'll love every fucking one of them. Each thrust is brutal, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, so slick with arousal and his precum that it drips down your thighs, making a mess.

"Look at this greedy fuckin' pussy," he groans, thumbs spreading you open wider just so he can watch. "Suckin' me in like you missed this dick."

"I did," you gasp, fingers clutching at the couch cushions. "But you're still a fucking idiot."

Jason grits his teeth, hips snapping forward hard enough to shove you up the couch, your knees scraping against the fabric. Your slick little cunt grips him tight, soft and warm and soaked inside, milking his cock every time he drags back just to slam back in. Precum leaks from the swollen tip, mixing with your slick, and every thrust pushes it deeper, making you feel so full you can barely breathe.

The couch creaks under both of you, the whole thing rocking with the force of his thrusts, and Jason can't tear his eyes away from the way your ass bounces every time his hips smack into you. Your skin glows, sweat-slick and gorgeous, and he can see the way his dick stretches you open, disappearing into your perfect pussy over and over again.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, almost to himself. "You're perfect. This pussy's fuckin' perfect."

"Damn right it is," you pant, pushing back against him until you're stuffed full all over again. "And if you get yourself killed, who the fuck is supposed to fuck me like this?"

That ticks him off just right this time. His hand shoots out, grabbing the back of your neck, not to hurt, but to hold, to control, and he hauls you upright, your back pressed flush to his broad chest. You gasp, legs shaking, the stretch of his cock inside you deeper, hitting that sweet spot that makes you cry out.

"Who said I was goin' anywhere?" he growls against your ear, hand sliding up from your neck to wrap gently around your throat. "You think I'd leave you, baby? Fuck no."

His other hand finds your tits, fingers tugging at the bra you still hadn't taken off, yanking the cups down completely so your soft skin spills into his hand. He palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, and you moan loud, head tipping back onto his shoulder.

"You love me?" you whisper, breath hitching with every thrust.

"You know I do," he pants, fucking up into you, hips rolling slow but deep, stuffing you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Then fucking show me," you challenge, rocking your hips down to meet him.

Jason groans, fingers tightening on your throat just a little, enough to make your cunt flutter around him. "I am," he mutters, mouth hot on your neck. "Fuckin' you so good no one else could ever touch you— no one else could make you this wet, this fuckin' messy."

He shoves you back down, face to the cushions, ass in the air, spreading you wide so he can see everything. Especially the way your slick pussy stretches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls out, shiny with your wetness and his precum.

"Fuckin' shit, baby," he groans, watching his cock slide in and out of your perfect little pussy. "You're fuckin' drippin'."

"Because you're that good, asshole," you snap back, voice muffled by the cushions.

Jason slaps your ass hard enough to make you jolt, cunt squeezing down on him so tight his vision blurs for a second. "Yeah? Then why the fuck you talkin' so much?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot," you sob, back arching when he drives in deep. "You don't—you don't need to start shit every time someone looks at me, Jay. You're the only one who gets to fuck me like this, don't you know that?"

Jason groans, hands tightening on your hips as he slams into you harder, hips snapping, driving you into the couch so deep your knees nearly buckle.

"I know, doll," he pants, voice wrecked. "I know, fuck—I just love you so much, I can't stand anyone else even lookin' at you."

"Then—then fuck me harder," you gasp, tears in your eyes from how good he feels, how perfectly his thick cock fills you up, dragging against every sweet spot inside you. "Fuck me so good I can't even think about anyone else."

Jason yanks you up again, your back flush to his sweat-slick chest, his cock buried so deep you swear you feel him in your fucking lungs. His big hand cups your jaw, turning your face toward him, and he kisses you messy, tongue sliding between your parted lips like he's starving for the taste of you. It's sloppy, wet, both of you panting into each other's mouths, sucking on tongues, biting at lips.

You moan into his mouth when his free hand finds your clit, two fingers rubbing sharp, relentless circles over the sensitive little bud. It's too much, too fast, your cunt already stretched wide and soaked around him, every rub of his fingers making you clench down tighter.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, breath hot against your cheek, hips snapping up into you so hard you bounce. "You're so fuckin' wet—you're drippin' all over my dick."

His fingers don't slow down, and you can't do anything but take it, legs shaking, cunt squeezing around him, your swollen clit throbbing under his ruthless touch. The heat coils low in your belly, sharp and fast, climbing so high so fast it almost scares you.

"Jay—fuck—wait, I—"

Your hand flies down, grabbing at his wrist, trying to ease him off your overstimulated clit, but he's not budging, the muscle in his forearm flexing as he presses down harder.

"No," he growls into your ear, voice wrecked. "You wanted me to fuck you like I mean it? This is what that fuckin' means, baby."

His dick pounds into you mercilessly, every thrust dragging against your sweetest spot, thick and hot and leaking inside you, smearing precum along your fluttering walls. You're soaking him, so slick you can hear the obscene squelch every time he sinks in to the hilt as he rubs your puffy little clit.

Your whole body locks up, spine arching, mouth falling open as you cum so hard it knocks the breath out of you, that sharp edge of pleasure tipping you into freefall. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, tight and trembling, and Jason fucking moans, jaw clenched, hips stuttering as you soak his dick with wave after wave of hot, slick arousal.

But he doesn't stop.

"Gimme more," he pants, fingers ruthless on your clit. "C'mon, baby, you can do it, show me how messy you can get."

"Jason, I—fuck—fuck—"

Your thighs quake, eyes rolling back, and when he starts to slap over your clit lightly, it hits like a live wire—your whole body seizes, cunt pulsing around him, and then it happens.

You fucking squirt, hot and sudden, a slick rush spilling from your cunt, drenching both of you in a messy gush that soaks the couch, his thighs, your thighs—every inch of skin that's pressed together—leaving your pussy glistening, clenching around his dick as your juices drip down to the cushions. It's a mess you didn't even know you could make, and Jason loses it.

You both knew you could squirt when you were drunk off your ass, but this? This was all him. And you're both wrecked with it—you, boneless and trembling, him, harder than fucking steel inside you, completely gone for you.

"Holy fuck, baby," he groans, voice somewhere between awe and pure hunger.

Your whole body shakes, tears spilling down your cheeks from the sheer intensity, overstimulated to the point of pain-tinged pleasure, and Jason kisses you through it, swallowing your sobs and moans right from your tongue.

It's still so messy—hot, wet, open-mouthed, tongues licking into each other's mouths, tasting sweat and spit and you, and he groans deep in his chest like you're the best thing he's ever had.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked, fluttering cunt, so slick it's almost effortless, but you're still so tight, sucking him in greedily. His fingers finally ease off your clit, stroking instead of circling, soothing instead of torturing, but his kiss stays just as hungry. Desperate like he's trying to memorize your taste, the way you moan into his mouth when you can barely even catch your breath.

"Baby," he murmurs between kisses, breathless and tender and filthy all at once. "You're so fuckin' good for me. Love this pussy—love you."

Jason's lips break from yours, sliding down your jaw, over the curve of your throat, hot breath ghosting over your pulse before his mouth seals against your neck. He sucks hard, tongue flicking over the skin, leaving a bruising, sloppy mark.

And the whole time, his hips keep working, dragging his thick cock in and out of your soaked, swollen cunt, slow but deep, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl.

"Fuck, Jay—" you whimper, head tilting to give him more of your neck, hands clutching at his wrists, his arms, anywhere you can reach to steady yourself.

He hums low in his throat, all smug and wicked, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. "You want my cum, baby?"

You moan loud, nodding so fast it makes him chuckle.

"Of course you do," he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, kissing his way up to your ear. "This needy little pussy loves my cum, huh?"

"Yes," you gasp, writhing against him, trying to push back and take him deeper, to make him give it to you.

But he just teases, slowing his thrusts, dragging every inch out before pushing back in so slowly, letting you feel just how thick and hot he is inside you. "Thought you were mad at me, pretty girl."

"I am," you snap, but it's breathless, your earlier fire softened by the way he's fucking you so deep and slow, pulling every sound he loves right out of your throat.

"Yeah?" he smirks, tongue licking over your racing pulse. "Then why should I cum inside this perfect little pussy if you're still so fuckin' mad?"

"Jason—" you whine, pushing back harder, but his hand holds you steady, thumb pressing into your hip, controlling the pace no matter how desperate you are.

"Gotta convince me, baby," he taunts, voice all low and syrupy-sweet, fingers sliding down to your clit just to flick it, making you jolt and clench down hard on his cock. "Why should I fill you up, huh? Gimme one good reason."

"Because I need it," you gasp, fingers clawing at the couch cushions. "Need you to cum inside me, need to feel it—fuck—please, Jay."

"Need it?" He grins against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you yelp. "Sounds like my girl's not so mad after all."

"I am—"

"No, you're not," he cuts you off, fucking into you a little faster, just to hear the pitch of your voice climb. "You just like actin' tough until you're full of my dick, huh?"

You nod frantically, pride shredded, nothing left but raw, aching need. "Yes—yes—God, yes—please, Jay."

"Please, what?" His cock drags against your sweet spot with every thrust, his fingers circling your clit again, faster this time. "Say it, baby. Tell me exactly what you want."

"Want you to cum inside me," you sob, back arching, thighs trembling. "Want to feel it dripping out—want to be so fucking full of you, Jay, please—"

That does it. His grip tightens as he snaps his hips forward, fucking you deep, no more teasing, just hard, filthy thrusts, skin slapping skin, his cock driving into your slick little cunt until the wet noises echo louder than your breathless moans.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Gonna give it to you— gonna fill this perfect pussy up."

You moan his name like a prayer, clenching down so hard it makes him stutter, and then he's gone, hips jerking, cock throbbing deep inside you as he spills, hot and thick, cum flooding your pussy in pulse after pulse after pulse.

It's so much—the heat of it, the way his dick twitches inside you with every spurt, and fuck, you feel everything. The way his cock pulses, the way his cum paints your insides, so deep, so full, your body reacts before you even realize, pleasure slamming through you again, white-hot and all-consuming.

"Oh—fuck—fuck—"

Your whole body trembles, seizing up as you arch, as your walls clamp down hard around his dick, the overstimulation pushing you over the edge again, even sharper this time.

Jason groans, choked and wrecked, because he feels it. The way your pussy flutters, grips him like a vice, milking him, dragging out his orgasm as another thick pulse of cum spurts deep inside you.

"Shit, pretty girl—fuck—"

His voice is hoarse, breathless, hands locking onto your hips as he bucks up, rutting into you with slow, desperate rolls, like he's trying to fuck his cum deeper.

You're soaking him, your release gushing around his dick, slick dripping down to his balls, making everything filthy as you keen, breath hitching, body trembling. The pleasure is so much you can't stop shaking, can't stop gasping, every little twitch of his cock sending more sparks crackling through your limbs.

Jason groans again, deep and raw, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you right where he wants you, his cock still buried inside, still throbbing, even as his hips slow, his whole body shuddering against yours.

"Jesus Christ, baby—" He swallows hard, head falling forward against your shoulder, voice thick, half-slurred. "Damn near killed me."

But he doesn't let go. He won't. His arms curl around you, holding you close, keeping you locked against him, cock still nestled deep, even as his cum drips out, thick and hot, making a mess between your thighs.

You both shudder, your pussy milking him for everything, his cock twitching, still so sensitive it makes him groan low in his throat as he grinds against you, lazy and slow. You're so full you leak around him, creamy slick dripping down his balls, sticky and hot, smearing where your thighs press together.

It's messy, obscene, perfect, and he loves every second of it.

He kisses your shoulder, still panting, his hand sliding up your stomach to cup your tits, lazy fingers playing with one nipple. "Still mad, baby?"

"Maybe," you mumble, face buried in the crook of his neck, completely fucked stupid.

Jason's laugh rumbles low in his chest, warm and rough and just so him, his lips pressing to your temple in a lazy, affectionate kiss. "You're a terrible liar, doll."

His cock slips free from your fluttering cunt with a slick, obscene noise, your pussy clenching reflexively at the sudden emptiness, already missing him even with his cum still leaking from your swollen slit. It smears down your inner thighs, dripping onto the couch cushion below, and Jason watches it like a man obsessed, fingers tracing over the slick mess he made of you before finally easing you down against him.

You whine, soft and spent, but you don't fight it when he turns you gently, pulling your smaller body right on top of his, the perfect little puzzle piece to his broad, muscular frame. Your skin feels like it's buzzing, every inch of you overstimulated and tender, but his hands are so gentle.

Big palms soothing up and down your back, warm fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. His lips find your temple again, softer this time, and the two of you just breathe, hearts still pounding, somehow falling into the same steady rhythm.

You nuzzle into his neck, breath warm against his skin, and for a while, the only sound is both of you catching your breath, bodies molding together.

After a long, quiet moment, Jason's voice breaks the silence—rough, hesitant. "I'm sorry."

You blink up at him, your face blissed-out and sleepy, limbs heavy, but you still reach up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing gently over the scar there. His hand comes up to cover yours, his palm dwarfing yours as he lifts it to his mouth, kissing your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"I'm sorry too," you murmur, voice soft, but Jason just shakes his head.

"Nah," he says, eyes flicking up to the ceiling like it's easier to talk to that than to you. "It was my fault. I just..." he trails off, breath hitching slightly, and for a rare moment, Jason Todd looks nervous.

You wait, patient and quiet, until he finally sighs, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. "I never had this kind of love before," he says, voice so low you almost miss it. "Ever."

Your heart aches, and you squeeze his hand back, silently urging him to keep going.

"And yeah, I don't—I don't know how to behave sometimes," he admits, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "I know it's wrong to be so fuckin' possessive. To assume you're mine just because I want you to be."

"Baby," you whisper, brow furrowing, but he keeps talking, like he has to get it all out before he loses his nerve.

"It's selfish and stupid," he says, frustrated with himself. "But I just... I never felt this way about anyone before. And it's fuckin' terrifyin', but it's also the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to me."

Your chest aches, soft and warm and so full of love for this man who's only ever known how to fight for what he wants, and now he's fighting himself, just to figure out how to love you right.

You tilt his chin until he's looking at you again, your eyes wide and soft and just a little stunned, because yeah, Jason's softer with you, you know that. But this? This vulnerability, this naked honesty, this is rare. This is the part of him no one gets to see.

"What are you talking about, baby?" you whisper, thumb tracing his lower lip. "I'm yours. You don't have to doubt that."

His eyes darken, something vulnerable flickering beneath the heat. "Yeah, but—"

"No 'but'," you cut him off, leaning down to kiss him—soft, sweet, no heat this time, just love. "I am yours, Jay. You don't own me, but I belong to you. And that's my choice."

His arms tighten around you, almost crushing you to his chest, but you don't complain. You just melt into it, letting him hold you like he's afraid you'll slip through his fingers if he lets go.

And yeah, maybe your pussy's still throbbing, and there's cum dripping down your thighs, and you both reek of sweat and sex, but right now? Right now, all that matters is this.

You shift slightly on top of him, just enough to press your lips to his chest—soft, lingering, right over his heart. It's steady beneath your mouth, a quiet, strong beat that reminds you he's here. And you hold onto that, breathing him in as you kiss him again, even softer this time.

Jason's hand slides up your back, fingers weaving into your hair as he cups the back of your head, guiding you up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead. It's so gentle, so sweet, and your chest aches all over again, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry I said I want you to change for me," you murmur, voice quiet and a little hoarse. "I didn't mean it like that. I just..." you sigh, fingers tracing idle patterns over his ribs. "I knew what I was getting into when we first met. I knew. And I thought that over time, it would be easier to just... I don't know... get used to the idea that one day you might not come home."

His hand tightens slightly in your hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he's listening.

"But it's not," you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

"I know," he says softly, his lips finding your temple again.

You exhale, shaky and uneven, and your voice wavers when you say, "I just want you to promise you'll always come back to me. I can't lose you, Jason. You're the only person in my life I've ever loved like this, and I just... I can't—"

The words catch in your throat, and you almost sniffle, but Jason's already there, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze. And fuck, the way he looks at you—like you're everything, like you hung the goddamn moon—it almost breaks you.

He can't stand seeing you cry. Not like this. Crying because he fucks you stupid? Sure, any day of the week. But crying because you're scared of losing him? That kills him a little.

His thumb strokes along your cheek, brushing away the tears threatening to spill. "I promise, doll," he says, voice low and steady and so fucking sincere it hurts. "I'll always come back to you."

You nod, swallowing hard before you nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, letting his warmth wrap around you like a shield. His arms tighten around you again, holding you like you're his lifeline. And maybe you are.

And yeah, there's still mess between your thighs, and the couch probably needs to be burned after what you just did to it, but none of that matters right now. All that matters is this. Just you and Jason, skin to skin, hearts pounding in sync, holding onto each other like the world outside doesn't exist.

After a quick cleanup—you both do what you can with the poor couch, but honestly, there's only so much scrubbing that'll save it—you end up in the shower together, lazily soaping each other up with that vanilla body wash you love. Jason grumbles about how it's too sweet and not him, but the second you press your slick, warm body against his under the spray, he shuts up real fast.

Wrapped in clean clothes, smelling like dessert, you curl up on the couch, freshly dressed in one of his worn-out t-shirts that hangs off your shoulder and a pair of cotton panties. Jason settles next to you in his sweats, bare chested, all warm skin and ink as you tangle yourself around him like the needy gremlin you are.

A box of shitty pizza rests between you—a sad, greasy excuse for a meal, but somehow perfect for tonight—and some trash reality show plays in the background, the kind that makes you both question humanity.

Jason glances at you, his arm stretched around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. "So... we good?"

You roll your eyes, groaning dramatically, before leaning over to chomp a massive bite out of his slice, despite the fact you're already holding your own.

"You little brat," he mutters, shaking his head, but there's no real heat in it. If anything, the way he smiles at you—soft, warm, a little exasperated—makes your chest feel too small for your heart.

You just flash him a smug grin, mouth full of stolen pizza, and lean your head on his shoulder, sighing happily. "We're good, Jay."

And yeah, the couch will never be the same, and the pizza's objectively terrible, and the show's giving you both secondhand embarrassment. But with you curled into him, his arm wrapped around your waist, and your bare leg hooked over his thigh, Jason figures he might just be the luckiest motherfucker in Gotham.

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sceletaflores · 10 months ago

Text

working it out (on the remix)

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. you should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t going to get the three of you anywhere.

—or: three tennis players walk into a hotel room.

word count: 5.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, smoking, fighting as foreplay, mean!reader my beloved, the patrick and art gay agenda, threesome, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!), not quite hate sex more like angry sex, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), choking, finger sucking, degradation, creampies, lowkey sub!patrick coded, switch!art ofc, porn with a plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: oh em gee part three is here!!! i literally always say this but i had so much fun writing this one lol thank you so much for showing this series so much love right off the bat! i've loved loved loved reading all the ideas you guys have sent me for future chapters and trust when i say that i'll definitely be featuring as many as i can. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.

tftw series masterlist!

Art is fuming. You keep glancing over at him to check that smoke isn't starting to blow out of his ears. It doesn't, but he's just as mad every time. Standing in the doorway huffing and puffing, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Patrick down from across the room.

Patrick is the complete opposite, all relaxed body language and easy half-smiles as he coolly stares back. You’d make a fire and ice joke if you didn’t think it would send Art over the edge.

He’s sitting in the room’s single chair, window cracked open so he can smoke. He’s practically naked, wearing an unbuttoned long sleeve and the tiniest boxers you’ve ever seen. His bare feet are propped up on the corner of the bed you’re sitting on.

You’re perched cross legged on the mattress, basically stuck in the middle of them.

You’re still surprised you even got Art to show up at all. You thought he almost flipped the table when you brought up Patrick at lunch, casually mentioning that you’ve been texting him for the past couple of days and you think the three of you need to talk. He was quiet for a long time before he finally asked if that meant Patrick was, has been, in town. You just shook your head yes.

You didn’t tell him you and Patrick slept together, you didn’t need to.

He went quiet again, stood up from his chair with an excuse of being late to class and stomped out of the dining hall. You texted him the address to Patrick’s hotel an hour later.

Art never responded, but his jeep was still waiting for you outside the biology building after your last lecture got out. He would always drive you back to your dorm since you’d get out so late, but this time he turned out of the campus lot and silently drove until you realized he was going to the hotel.

Now you’re here, and it's been almost ten minutes since you knocked on the door to Patrick’s room. And no one has said anything the entire time. No one has even moved, only Patrick every so often when he needs to flick his ashes out the window. A thick blanket of tense silence falls heavy over the three of you. It makes the room’s temperature feel that much hotter. The shitty air conditioner hums faintly in the background.

“So,” you say slowly, voice finally piercing through the quiet, “Am I gonna have to be the first to talk again or–”

“God, I don’t know,” Art cuts in tersely, not looking away from Patrick as he does, ”I can’t believe I don’t have anything to say to the guy that fucked my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Both you and Patrick ask sharply, opposing tones of shock and amusement blending together.

Art's eyes narrow, a storm brewing in the blue of them. He’s still looking at Patrick, talking about you like you’re not sitting right in front of him. "Yeah, my girlfriend. Did I stutter?" His chest is puffed out just enough for you to notice, his mouth pulled down at the corners in a deep frown.

You blink, caught off guard. Art’s never asked you to go steady with him, you’ve never even been on a date. Unless you count fucking in the back of his jeep at a drive in theater a date, then sure, you’ve been on one date. Regardless, the possessive timbre of his voice has something warm simmering under your skin.

Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “Well, this is fucking news to me,” he says through a chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of you bemusedly, “I didn’t realize you guys were playing house, but that does makes a lot more sense now.” He gestures to your chest with his free hand, pointing out the dark blue sweatshirt you’re wearing.

‘Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy’ is stitched across the front in thin black thread; you'd stolen it from Art’s closet when you slept over at his dorm a few nights ago. He never asked for it back.

“It’s cute that you kept my shirt, Donaldson.” Patrick teases, lolling his head to the side lazily so he can look at Art through his lashes. A plume of smoke billows from between his lips, slipping through the open window slowly. “Even after you tried to turn my girlfriend against me and fucked her behind my back first–”

“Fuck you, Patrick–” Art starts, face twisted in a scowl. His hands ball into fists at his side, jaw ticking with anger.

Patrick doesn’t look deterred, leaning forward in his chair as he tries to talk over Art, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite–”

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” you cut them both off, brows drawn together in frustration, “—and I’m not going to let this turn into some weird pissing contest between you two. We’re here to talk.”

Art scoffs agitatedly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Looks like the two of you have done plenty of talking without me,” he says bitterly. “Do you get off on this shit or something? On sticking your dick where it doesn’t fucking belong?”

Patrick smirks, leaning back in his chair, arms draped lazily over the armrests. “God, you really do think you’re innocent in this,” he laughs incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting like you’ve got some moral high ground, but you don’t. You’re just as guilty of playing the game as I am.”

Art’s face darkens further, anger threatening to boil over. “This isn’t a game to me, Patrick,” he spits, tone hard and low, “I’m so sick of you treating everything like a goddamn joke.”

Patrick’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I never said it was a joke,” he says with a shrug, tone easy and nonchalant. “I’m just saying, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fucking fingers. I’m not the only one who’s played dirty here.”

“Patrick–” you warn, sitting up straighter. You can feel the way the air changes, the way the animosity gets turned up. The last thing you need is for them to start throwing punches.

Art cuts you off, shaking his head in contempt. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t fucking care about her. You never did. You just want to win, because you can’t stand the thought of losing to me.”

Patrick groans loudly, throwing his head back with it. “We’re really going back to this again? Jesus Christ, give it up man. It’s not like she was ever really yours to begin with.” He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes never leaving Art.

The jab hits its mark, you can see it on Art’s face. In the way he physically recoils, the way he takes a ragged breath through his nose, the way the muscles of his jaw work furiously. For the first time since you fucked Patrick, you feel like a fucking bitch. The familiar feeling of guilt wraps its tendrils around you, weighing you down into the mattress like a physical force.

It gives you an idea, the guilt. It's a filthy idea, one that has heat stirring between your legs at just the thought. It’s a good way to make this whole situation up to Art, a good way to let him get under Patrick’s skin the same way he’s getting under his.

You sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. You should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t getting the three of you anywhere.

You sigh, overly dramatic and long suffering, scooting down until your legs are hanging over the edge of the mattress. Art and Patrick watch you the entire time, eyes finally leaving each other to watch your hands settle on the hem of Patrick’s sweatshirt.

“You guys are being so difficult. Why did I think that you could behave enough to talk this out like big boys?” You tug it off in one swift move, tossing it to the side carelessly. Two sharp gasps ring out, two sets of greedy eyes roam the bare expanse of your torso. You hadn’t worn a bra today.

You smirk, standing from the mattress and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your sweats. You push them down your legs slowly, making a show of it until you're only in the pair of light purple panties you slipped on this morning. Patrick smirks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window and yanking it closed. He goes to stand, Art pointedly takes a single threatening step forward as he does but you stop both of them in their tracks.

“No.” Your voice rings through the small room, loud and commanding. Patrick sits back down almost immediately, his brow raising in confusion. Art does the same, freezing with one foot in front of him. They’re both hard, cocks tenting the fabric of their bottoms. Their boners point towards each other, you bite your lip to hide your smile.

“You’ve been so bad, Ricky.” you scold softly, voice syrupy sweet as you lean back on the bed. “Dressed up like an easy whore in here waiting for us, being so mean to Art, fucking his girl…” You trail off boredly, palms braced flat on the bed behind you so you can lean back as casually as you can muster. You let your legs fall open, spread enough to let Patrick and Art see the wet spot slowly seeping into the fabric.

You can hear Art’s sharp inhale from across the room at your words, his girl. You’re still careful not to say girlfriend, that’s a whole other talk. Patrick squirms in his chair, practically itching with the need to say something. You level him with a hard look, a firm shake of your head keeps him quiet. When you finally turn your attention to Art, he meets your gaze easily, eyes already blown out and glassy. Even from here you can see the way his pupils swallow the pretty blue color.

You smile, lips curling up in a wicked smile. “Art,” you coo softly, reaching your hand out in offering, “come here.”

Art’s walking towards you without a second thought, crossing the room in just a few large steps. You smile at him, patting the spot next to you. The bed creaks as he sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight slides you closer to him. ”I think,” you say slowly, resting your hand high up on his thigh, so close to the hard line of his cock straining against the fabric, “that we need to teach Patrick a lesson on manners.”

“What! No fucking way, that’s bullshi–” Patrick fusses from the corner, sitting up straighter in seat, the armrest gripped tight in his left hand.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, whipping your head to the side to glare at him. “This isn’t about you.”

He frowns, pushing out his bottom lip like an actual child. You just barely fight the urge to roll your eyes, an evil smile spreading across your face as you watch him honest-to-God pout.

“This is about Art,” you slide your hand up higher, cupping him through his loose shorts. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, a quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips as you apply more pressure to where your hand is steadily rubbing him up and down. “Plus, you’re already in the cuck chair,” you aren’t able to stop the small chuckle that falls from your lips, “you’ve got a perfect view.”

His pink lips part ever so slightly, eyes going wide and hungry at your words. You throw him one last devilish smile before you’re sinking to your knees in front of the bed. The scratchy carpet digs into your knees but you don’t care, not when Art is towering in front of you with the ceiling lights shining around him like he’s an angel.

You smile up at him, dragging the palms of your hands up and down his thighs. “Take your shirt off,” you encourage, slipping your hands up to toy with the hem of his shorts.

He complies beautifully, pulling his shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the lean, toned muscles of his torso. You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, appreciating the sight before returning your attention to your task. Your fingers deftly undo the drawstring of his shorts, and start tugging them down. Art lifts his hips enough for you to drag them all the way down his legs, taking his boxers with them to free his hard cock.

Again, you slide your hands up the bare skin of his thighs, inches away from where he wants them. He’s so hard, cock standing straight up in an angry red line against his stomach. The tip drools pre-cum that leaks down the length of him slowly.

Art's breath hitches, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of anticipation and desperation. Your fingers brush lightly over his upper thighs, before you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat of his arousal pulse against your palm. His gasp is sharp, and you silently revel in the power you hold over him in this moment.

You glance over at Patrick, who is staring wide-eyed, his earlier irritation replaced with a raw, unfiltered hunger.

Your lips curl into a smug smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. “See something you like, Patrick?” you taunt, giving Art a slow, deliberate stroke that has him groaning softly. Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching, but he stays silent, his gaze locked on the two of you.

Art's hands grip the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white. "Fuck," he breathes out, his voice strained, "you're killing me."

You laugh softly, a dark, melodic sound, and lean forward, letting your tongue flick out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Art moans, the sound vibrating through you. You glance up at him through your lashes, seeing the way his head tilts back, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

You slide your lips up the length of his leaking cock, teasing and slow. Art stares down at you, not breaking eye contact as he breathes raggedly through his nose.

“Tell him how it feels,” you whisper against the pink tip of his cock, sliding it back and forth across your lips teasingly. Art swallows hard, skin flushing in embarrassment.

“So good…” he whispers, eyes still locked onto yours. His blush goes from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, spreading pink and warm across the strong muscle of his pecs.

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Don’t tell me, tell him.” You jerk your head in Patrick’s direction once before you sink down until your nose is nestled against the soft blonde hair at the base of his cock, working your throat around the length of him.

Art moans loudly, his hands coming up to tangle into your hair. You keep going, fighting his grip on you as you start to bob your head over his cock in a steady rhythm, working your hand in time with your mouth.

He forces himself to look at Patrick, catching his eyes.

Patrick looks fucked, lips slick and dropped open as he stares back Art, hungry gaze not wavering. His cock is still hard, pressed against the seam of his boxers and leaking a steady patch of wetness around the head.

A silent challenge seems to pass between the two of them.

We doing this or what?

Art refuses to back down, hardening his resolve. “Feels so fucking good,” he groans, not looking away from Patrick, “her throat’s so tight, so– God, it’s so good. Best I’ve ever had.”

He’s rambling, not even making any sense but you hum in approval all the same, your tongue curling around the crown. Patrick doesn’t look like he minds too much either, pink tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip. "Please," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "Let me..."

You pull off Art with a wet pop, turning your head as best you can with his hand still tangled in your hair to fix Patrick with a steely gaze. "You don't get to make requests," you say, your voice hard. "You get to watch and learn."

Patrick's eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn't protest. Art lets out a low growl, his hand tightening its grip on your hair and dragging your mouth back to his cock.

“Stop fucking talking to him,” he demands, hips thrusting to fuck back into your mouth. You choke on the sudden fullness, wetness floods your panties as you moan around him.

Yes, you think, eyes squeezing close as you force your throat to relax around his cock, this is what I wanted.

You were waiting to see how long it’d take Art to snap, he lasted longer than you thought he would. The head of his cock punches against the soft, spongy part at the back of your throat. You fight to not gag around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. His balls slap against your chin roughly, sticking wetly to the drool that's starting to fall from the corners of your lips.

Art meets Patrick’s eye again, a smug smirk on his face as he jerks his head in a clear invitation, “Come here.” He grunts simply, dragging you up and down the length of his cock by his tight grip on your hair.

Patrick practically sprints from the chair, ripping his shirt off while he tries to kick his boxers off before he reaches the bed. He sits next to Art, chest heaving as he stares down at where your lips stretched obscenely over his best friend's cock.

Art pulls you off by your hair, holding your face a few inches away from his spit covered cock. He tuts at you sympathetically, tilting his head to the side with a tiny frown at the sight of you all teary eyed. “Bet you feel real empty, right?” he asks sadly, shaking your head back and forth like a dog. “That greedy pussy wants our cocks stretching her open, doesn't she?”

You whine loudly, nodding your head as best you can as the meaning of Art’s words sink over you. You feel far away, like you’ve already been fucked six ways to Sunday. You cunt clenches around nothing, aching for Art and Patrick’s cocks bullying their way inside you. You’ve never done anything like that before, taken two guys at once, but God do you need it.

Art nods back, brows pulled together in faux pity. “Pat and I will help baby,” he says sweetly, “You just gotta get nice and stretched out first, need to fuck yourself open on Patrick’s cock so you can take us.”

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick breathes, already moving up the bed to lay flat on his back agasint the pillows. His cock sticking straight out from his body, pointing to the ceiling desperately.

Art lets go of your hair, cupping the side of your face tenderly. His thumb rubs against the soft skin of your cheekbone a few times, you know it’s a question.

Do you want this?

You smile, nuzzling his palm and giving his thumb a playful nip. The answer to his question written all over your face.

Fuck yes.

Art smiles back, nodding his head once. You take the hint, rising from your knees to climb onto the mattress. You slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you crawl up the length of Patrick’s body, straddling his hips and wasting no time in sinking down on his cock.

Art settles next to the two of you, hand loosely gripped around his cock as he starts to lazily stroke himself to the sight of you and Patrick.

“Fuck!” Patrick hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips fiercely as you start to ride him, not giving either of you anytime to adjust. The stretch burns, the lack of prepping before hand makes it sting. You don’t mind, too worked up to care.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” He tries, but you cut him off bringing your free hand to wrap around the column of his throat just like he did to you back in the shower.

“You’re the slut,” you growl, fingers digging into his skin roughly. His eyes widen, plush lips going slack. You speed your hips up, the loud smack each time you drop down onto him echoes through the room. “You’re the easy fucking whore that soaked your panties watching your best friend fuck my throat."

Art huffs out a breath, hand slipping over his cock faster as he watches you ride Patrick. His eyes are trained on the way your hand is wrapped against Patrick’s throat. He slips his free hand down, pressing two fingers against Patrick’s cock so you slide down onto them on the next bounce.

“Fuck!” You keen loudly, grip tightening on Patrick’s throat. Art’s fingers add to the sting of your cunt, but your hips don’t stop moving, even as he slips in a third just as fast.

You get lost in it, in the feeling of Patrick’s dick fucking into you so deeply you swear he’s hitting your cervix with every roll of your hips, Art’s fingers stretching you that much wider.

Suddenly, Art drops his cock so his free hand can latch onto your hips, his strong grip forcing you to stop your desperate bouncing. His fingers slip out of you, you immediately miss the stretch.

Patrick groans in displeasure, his hips buck up like he’s trying to slide back into the warmth of your fucked open cunt. His leaking head bumps against your sensitive clit a few times before Art’s dropping his hand down, gripping Patrick’s cock to line it up with his own.

Art slides up behind you, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against your back. “Should be stretched out enough,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, pressing both tips against your fluttering hole.

The shock of it has your hand slipping off Patrick’s throat to anchor onto his shoulders in a feeble attempt to brace yourself. He sucks in large gasps of air, chest heaving as he stares down to where his cock is pressed snug against Art’s, his hand big enough to almost wrap around them both. He throws his head back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, I can’t watch,” he gasps, voice low and ragged.

Art laughs smugly, but it’s breathy around the edges and you can feel the way his hand shakes on your hip. “Close already, Pat?” He asks condescendingly, as his fingers dig in a little tighter. “You’re not even doing any of the work.”

You try to focus on the sensation of Art’s grip, but your mind is a haze of overstimulation and the throb of Patrick’s cock against you. Art’s mocking tone sends a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close you are to the edge yourself. Your greedy cunt clenches around them, trying to suck them in you.

Patrick’s breath stutters, his hips jerking up involuntarily, making a strangled noise that’s half-groan, half-whimper. “Fuck you, man,” he manages to grind out, but his voice is trembling and strained, the bite in his tone gets undercut by how wrecked he sounds. You can feel the barely there twitches of his hips, like he’s physically pained from having to wait any longer.

A sharp cry rips from your throat as they finally start to slide in, both heads popping into your tight hole all at once. Your eyes screw shut at the stretch, thighs shaking where they’re spread over Patrick’s hips.

“Someone kiss me,” you gasp desperately, chin lowering to your chest. Art’s moving before the words finish leaving your mouth, gripping a fistful of Patrick’s hair and dragging him up to your lips. You whine into his mouth, letting his tongue slide between your lips to claim your mouth.

The familiar feeling of his lips on yours relaxes you the tiniest bit, letting Art lower you down a few more inches. It feels like hours as you sink onto them, Art’s big hands gently massaging your hips while Patrick’s greedy fingers pull and paw at your thighs.

It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard Patrick. His lips going slack in awe against yours as Art’s cock slides up next to his, moaning into your mouth when your hips go flush with his.

They feel so huge inside you, so thick you swear you can feel them in your stomach. Bullying your insides into making more room for the both of them.

“Fuck," you gasp, nails digging little crescent moons into Patrick’s shoulders. Every inch of you is alive with sensation, a burning mix of pleasure and pain. Art’s breath is hot and ragged against your ear, whispering sweet encouragements, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, taking us so fucking good–”

You nod, slowly starting to grind your hips back and forth, gasping when they rub up against the soft spot inside of you that has you clenching in pleasure– practically choking them off at the base. A high moan falls from your lips, hips swirling the tiniest bit faster that have both Art and Patrick growl out matching groans of approval.

“Just like that,” Art whispers into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Gonna make him come first, or are you gonna beat him to it?” The challenge in his voice sends a jolt of heat through you, your thighs starting to shake with every pass of them over that spot.

“God, ah! Art– fuck, mh, Patrick–” You slur, head already starting to go fuzzy

“Fuck,” Art gasps out your name sharply, pushing you down onto Patrick’s chest so he can start fucking into your loose, sloppy cunt. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” his hand grips the back of your neck to pin you down, throwing all his strength behind the snap of his hips.

“Shit, look at you,” Patrick chuckles weakly pinching your hips hard, trying to seem less affected than he really is. “You’re so fucking gone. All that attitude needs is some dick to fix it, huh?”

You crack your eyes open, blearily searching until you zero in on his face. He’s smiling smugly, eyes blown out and hazy.

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit weakly, raising your hand to shove your index and middle finger between his parted lips. You push back far enough to feel his throat constricting against your fingers, letting him gag on you. Your eyes trace the side of his face, down the slope of his nose to where his cherry red lips are lewdly spread around your fingers.

You can distantly hear Art groan behind you, his hips speeding up impossibly faster. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers digging into your sensitive skin meanly. You hook your fingers behind Patrick’s teeth, dragging his face to the side to meet your eye. Patrick moans around your fingers, gazing at you pleading through half lidded eyes. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, drenching your wrist. His hot, wet tongue sliding along the pads of your fingers feels scalding.

Patrick's hands are everywhere, pulling, pinching, caressing, his touch a maddening mix of rough and tender. The feeling of him inside you, alongside Art, is almost too much to bear, making you gasp for breath. Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and desperation, each one a plea for more, more, more the closer you get the edge.

“Shit, ah, Art, ah!” Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the sheets, the fingers of your free hand twist Patrick’s hair roughly. “I’m gonna come— Mm, ah! I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Art goads, the rhythm of his hips not faltering, “Come on baby– fuck yeah– fucking soak these dicks–”

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your vision whites out around you as the entire world shrinks down to the stretch of your gushing cunt around Art and Patrick. The slight burn of them, the fullness, the unrelenting pace of Art’s hips stinging the skin of your ass on each thrust.

Patrick bites down on your fingers with a broken whine just as Art sinks his teeth into your neck, both of them groaning so loud it’s all you can hear. That and the faulty rhythm of Art’s hips snapping against the meat of your ass in loud ‘cracks’.

They come together, and you can feel it.

You can feel every twitch and jerk of their cocks inside you as they spray the walls of your cunt with their releases. Spurt after spurt of hot come claiming you as theirs, filling you to the brim. Art doesn’t stop, working the three of you through your orgasms. Each thrust fucks more of their come out of you, the lewd squelch of it leaking from of your loose hole to gather around the base of their cocks in two matching creamy rings makes your ears burn.

Just as it gets to be too much, when the pleasure starts to give way into biting overstimulation, Art stops. You’re slumped against Patrick, shaking like a leaf when Art starts to pull out as gently as he can. You hiss when the head of his cock slips out, thighs clenching together.

“Sorry,” he whispers sweetly, giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. He practically man handles you off of Patrick’s cock, lifting your hips up and off of him.

Patrick groans, stomach twitching in oversensitivity as your slick walls slide against his spent dick. Finally he slips out, his drenched cock falling to slap onto his stomach. There come rushes out of you, dripping sticky and thick down your inner thighs.

There’s sweat dripping down your temple when you fall onto the mattress, your back sticks to the sheets but you’re too out of it to care. Art collapses next to you, sandwiching you between him and Patrick. The three of you are quiet, chests heaving as you catch your breath. Patrick’s hairy thigh is pressed to yours, firm and toned. Art’s got an arm slung over your waist, his breath puffs hot against your neck.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” you say breathlessly, voice raspy and hoarse. “It could work. We could make it work, the three of us.”

Art and Patrick are quiet, their silence heavy with contemplation. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, more nervous bringing this up than you thought you’d be. The room is filled with the sounds of your collective breaths, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and sex.

Patrick chuckles, you can feel his curls brushing against your shoulder as he shakes his head in dry amusement. "Yeah, because everything about this screams 'healthy relationship,'" he quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Art lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice low and steady. "Let's just...see where this goes."

You feel a rush of relief at his words, but Patrick’s hesitancy still gnaws at the edges of your mind. Patrick shifts beside you, his hand skirting lightly over your arm in a rare moment of tenderness.

"Guess we're in uncharted territory, huh?" he murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

You laugh, finally daring to glance at both of them, a tentative smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Art and Patrick look back at you with matching grins wide enough to show their teeth, blonde and black hair fanning around their faces like halo’s under the room’s shitty fluorescent light. Your heart swells under the intense stare of two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green. You can feel the room start to fade away until it’s just the three of you and nothing else seems to matter.

Art leans down, giving your right shoulder a quick kiss. “If we’re doing this, we have to be honest with each other.” He looks between you and Patrick pointedly, but he’s still smiling. “No more bullshit games.”

Patrick snorts, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, “Yes sir.”

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. "No bullshit, no games," you agree, moving to squeeze Art's hand. He squeezes back in a silent promise.

The three of you lie there in a comfortable silence, the weight of your decision settling over you. It's definitely not going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

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gojos-version · 5 months ago

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Take it.

Pairings- Y/N x Satoru Gojo

Summary- Porn without the plot.

Warnings- Tummy bulge, breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yall), mating press, doggy style, pet names (sweetheart, baby), praise, overstimulation

Word count- 1k

Proofread- ✅

A/n- Hi!! It's been a while since I last posted a fic :c I've been pretty busy, and I've had a lot going on so I couldn't sit down and write but things have been getting better so I can finally do what I love doing. Thank you all for your patience, as compensation I'll get out as much Fics as I can, so please feel free to drop any requests <3

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆

Satoru pins you to the bed, placing a harsh hand on your upper back. "Such a pretty girl." he Coos as his free hand thumbs your soaked slit. "Y-you know-" You're cut off when you feel his leaky tip at your puffed entrance making you freeze.

"Know what, hm?" He grins and slowly pushes his fat tip in making your walls spasm around him at the sudden intrusion. "Cmon baby, you look so delicious today let me give you a good fucking, yeah?", You blearily nod your head as he sinks his entire length into you.

Fuck. Fuck. Your tight warm walls squeeze the life out of his stupidly big dick, and he hisses in response. "Stop squeezing me baby, might finish too early." He grunts out and slowly starts thrusting his cock into your gooey hole. Shit, he can’t control the whimper that escapes his lips when his hard length sinks all the way into you to the hilt then pulls out to only sink back in till his pelvis goes flush against your hips.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of him now ramming his cock into you with pure need. Each thrust felt like he was trying to reach your lungs, like his cock was tearing your insides to mold and fit him and only him. Skin slapping against each other fills the entire room, a lewd Plap! Plap! Fills your head; your cunt squelching like something you'd see on shitty porn videos but fuck it was real. Your cunt was being so loud. Your body was tingling almost like it was on fire just spreading though each and every one of your veins.

With each thrust his leaky tip with precision would hit your g spot. That fucker had to be using his six eyes. "'Toru- Are you seriously u-using-hah- your s-six eyes-! hngh-!", “H-hah-! So, what if I’m using my six eyes- shit- it feels so good- fuck-!” He gasps out as his hands squish your ass cheeks, spreading them apart and watching as his dick bullies its way to kiss your cervix.

“Satoru- how’s that-! Isn’t it exhausting- fucking! Shit-!” Your walls flutter around him, squeezing the life out of him, “Heh- don’t care- can just use reverse curse technique.” He breathily gasps out. Fuck his body felt like it was going to explode any second, he could taste his release on his tongue threatening to come out at any second. Your walls clamp up and squeeze him so tight that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Before Satoru knew it his dick explodes. White ropes fill you up, and when he comes, he comes so much. You shudder at the feeling of his cum breaching so deep inside of you, it felt like it could reach your throat from how deep inside of you he is.

Your body shakes from the orgasm that just got pulled out of you, your walls clamping and unclamping around his cock. Your insides tighten up when Satoru doesn’t slow down or stop after riding both of your orgasms out like usual. You cry out into the pillow as he fucks his cock into you speeding his pace up faster than before, your cunt- overly sensitive from your previous release- has your back arching and your hands curling into fists clamping the sheets below you till your knuckles went white.

"N-no-! S-slow doohhwwnnn!!" You scream out and he laughs when you pathetically reach a hand behind you and try to push his hips back- a failed attempt to stop him. He grabs your wrists with both of his hands; while not slowing down his harsh thrusts, he pins them behind your back and all you can do is lay there and take it. "Take it. Fucking take it." he moans out, his head falling back in pure pleasure.

Your eyes roll back, and your body feels hot. Too hot. The more pressure he used to pin your arms behind your back pushed your stomach deeper into the mattress causing it to put pressure on the lewd bulge in your stomach. Fuck right now you could incinerate. You sob out of pleasure into the pillow and cry out Satoru's name. “Shh baby, ‘ts okay... yeah... that’s it, sweetheart”, He coos out knowing full well on what he’s doing.

You let out a string of muffled moans as your hips try to meet his, following his thrusts while you weakly whimper into the sheets. "Thats it...such a good girl f'me, aren't you? Atta girl...that's it..." And before you know it, he pushes the weight of his body on top of yours, his chest and abdomen flush against your back, his hands release your wrists to just pin your wrists against your back with his chest.

One of his free hands grab your tit and the other mushes your face together and pushes your head up so he could see you. "My pretty girl..." He whimpers out and he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw. "Mpphhff! Hnnghh!" Your muffled whines were music to Satoru's ears. "Hah- yeah..f-fuck 'm close..." His cock felt like it was in heaven, your gooey, warm, wet walls just milking him already had his toes curling and thighs tensing.

The both of you didn't notice it yet but, the lamp the both of you had on flickered and frankly so did all of Japan's lights. The hand fondling your tit moved down to your clit as he rubbed and pinched harsh circles making your stomach clench and your thighs tense in response.

"So- ah-rough-!" You managed to babble out, "Quit your complain'. You'll take it f'me won't you, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, yeah?", That's the last thing you hear before your vision turns white and your body shakes; your body on fire while you squirt all over Satoru's cock and pelvis, your release dripping down both of your thighs and onto the sheets below.

You feel Satoru's own release flooding your insides as your walls pulse around him. When you finish coming down from your high you notice the rooms pitch black and..well..when Satoru opened his eyes he laughed. "Hah- looks like the powers out again...'ts okay we've got my eyes, baby." He chuckles out and sits up, flipping you over onto your back and he pushes your thighs to your chest and slips back inside of you making you gasp in response.

"H-hah- We're goin' all night baby. Take it, yeah?" You both weren't making it out alive tonight.

✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆

Masterlist<3

Tags!

@my-own-au-my-way

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velvetydream · 2 months ago

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꒰ : 🪐 [ Academic Rivalry - 산 ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

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Pairing : Choi San x fem! Reader , very short Seonghwa x Reader but important for the plot and no feelings between them

Summary : You've hated San your entired life, from him being better than you in every subject to your parents telling you to be more like him. Though.. was it really hate or something else you felt?

Word count : 4.3K Words

Genre/Warnings : Enemies to Lovers - Fluff, Academic Rivals

a/n : After alot of very dissapointing events, I decided to write a lil cheer up fic for @moilele , hope u enjoy it dear!♡

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He was irritating, the bane of your existence. His voice alone annoyed you, his stupid face way too handsome for his stupid personality.

Choi San, the top student in sports, is rivaling you in any other subject as he scores almost always a little higher than you. Your parents, being friends, always compared you to him. Be a bit more like San; look how well San is doing, San, San, San. Anyone was only able to see and say San, the girls falling at his feet, the boys wanting to be like him.

Snap!

Looking down now at the pencil you snapped with your hand, Mingi looking at you concerned from his spot beside you. "Uhm.. you broke your pencil.." He mutters, making you roll your eyes as you throw the broken pen away into the depths of your bag. "Thanks, Mingi, I didn't know.." You mumble, even more, annoyed when your ears pick up that stupid deep laugh of San sitting at the back with Jung Wooyoung and Kang Yeosang. The little trio being the absolute worst nightmare of yourself. They always acted so smug, so high above everyone, just because their parents had money and they were doing well in school.

"She's definitely annoyed by San again." Yunho snickers as he looks over to you from his seat beside Mingi. "He is annoying, and my parents told me last night how they'd be coming over this weekend for dinner. Means I'll have to listen to them praise him the whole evening.." Wanting to slam your head against the table, you didn't as the professor walked in, starting his lecture. Luckily, San and his little group of friends, for once, stayed quiet and didn't interfere much.

"Can't you just ditch the dinner though?" Mingi asks as he starts packing up his bag, making you shake your head. No, you couldn't cause the lecture you'd get then would be far worse than spending one evening with Choi San. "Guess you'll have to endure it, but hey, we can hand out together Sunday then, to make the weekend a little less dreading." Patting your shoulder, Yunho takes his bag as the three of you leave the room and make your way to the cafeteria. He was right; it was one evening, and you would survive that dinner for sure. Or so you thought.

"Oh, San! Always so polite! Thank you!" Your mother beams as he helps her bring everything to the table, a smirk being sent your way. "Seriously Y/n, take an example from San!" Your mom praises him as everyone takes a seat; you just want to leave this dinner immediately. The moment San and his parents entered your home, your mother was all over him, saying how well he looked and what a charming young man he was. The dinner continued quietly, till your father had to bring up academics. "So San, I heard from your father how well you're doing, top of each class and a little sports star huh?" Smiling bashfully San nods, wanting to gag at his little shy act. "Yes, Sir, I've spent a lot of time studying and putting my other time into sports; I'd love to pursue a good job in the future with a lot of possibilities." Clapping a bit beside you, your mother praises the young man. "A son like you, Y/n you should really learn from him, maybe he can even tutor you a bit in what was it.. maths? Where you were doing not so well!" Looking at her, offended now that she had to say that in front of San, who smirked at you. "Of course, ma'am, I'm top of my class in maths; I'd love to tutor our dear Y/n to help her out." Oh, how you wanted to just punch that stupid smirk off of his face.

After dinner, your parents asked you to clean the dishes while they took a seat outside on the porch. "What a stupid asshole, oh how I'd love to punch that stupid smirk off of his stupid face." Mumbling to yourself as you clean the dishes, not noticing a presence behind you. "How lovely you talk about me, you probably meant to say stupidly handsome face?" Shrieking together at the voice, you spin around to come face to face with San, your hands dripping with water and soap from scrubbing the plates. "No, I meant what I said; now get out." Wanting to turn back around, he quickly cages you between his arms. "Darling maybe be a bit nicer to your tutor." Fingers grab your chin as he lifts your head to look into your eyes, clearly seeing the same emotions of disdain you hold for him. "Yeah sure, fuck off." Pushing his hand away, you turn around to continue cleaning as he leaves with an annoyed click of his tongue.

Finally, he was gone again, resting your forehead against the hanging cupboards slightly, a sigh leaving your exhausted body. Choi San was so fucking irritating.

The following day, luckily, was spent with Mingi and Yunho at the mall, enjoying some ice cream before having to go back to university the next day. Of course, the day had to end with your most hated subject, math. Sending a smug look your way as San walks past you, now knowing fully well how bad you're in this class, while he was a top student yet again. "Miss Y/n would you mind staying a minute after the lecture?" The professor now asks you as everyone packs their belongings together, nodding as you watch everyone leave the room. "You're very close to failing this class.. Is it my teaching? Can something maybe help you?" The elderly man asks now, always wanting to make sure his students at least pass. "I really don't know sir.. I study a lot, yet I still don't understand everything.." Looking down at your hands, frustrated now, how is it that you're working your ass off, trying to score well, yet you always seem to fail.

"Maybe I can help? I could tutor her; our parents are friends, so we know each other." Head shooting up at the agitating voice coming from the main door. "Oh really?! That would be great! Then I leave her grade in your hands mister!" The professor exclaims happily, as he grabs his bag and bids you two his goodbye for the day. "Are you insane?! Why would I want you to tutor me?!" Shouting at him now, his stupid smirk showing his dimples, as his short dark hair frames his face perfectly. Screw him. "Because you need my help, sweetheart, or else, you will fail, and your parents will just be even more disappointed in you." Laughing into your face now, you quickly walk past him, shoving his shoulder while doing so. "I'll text you the meet-up spot!" San shouts after you, laughing as you flip him off.

This was your worst nightmare coming true.

So this is how you find yourself in front of a luxury apartment complex San had sent the address to you of. Murmuring annoyed to yourself how he lived in such a wealthy apartment all by himself while you still had to live at home, annoyed the hell out of you. Pressing the button, it takes a few seconds for San to answer, telling you to come to the 8th floor. Pressing the button in the elevator, you wait for it to arrive at the correct floor before stepping out, moving to the only slightly open door. "Come in, I'm cooking right now." He calls over to you, making you roll your eyes. Of course, he had to cook exactly right now when you were on time. "Take a seat at the aisle; I can tutor you while cooking; the math topic is pretty easy." Motioning for the high chairs, you take a seat, already frustrated, pulling out your notes and iPad. "So where is your problem? Is it the way or the overall understanding?" Talking to you so easily while seasoning whatever he was cooking made your blood boil. First, he brings you into this situation, and then he won't even properly tutor you? Asshole.

"It's the way, I understand what I'm supposed to do, but it confuses me how to get there." He nods, taking your notes from you and scanning over them quickly. Giving them back, he starts to explain the easiest way, making you try and follow while he explains, taking notes of what he is saying. Despite not wanting to admit it, you slowly understood with his help and explanation of the math problem.

"Do you understand it now?" Looking at you, smiling when you slowly nod. This was the worst humiliation you ever experienced, admitting to Choi San helping you. "See, not that hard, maybe you should be a bit nicer to me, then I can help you more~" There he is again, with his smug attitude. "You're annoying as fuck; why do you always need to act so high and mighty." Packing together now annoyed, you've had enough of him acting this way. "Woah, nice words, please; I don't get your problem with me, you've hated me since forever, and I did nothing." He follows you to the direction of his door now, watching you put on your shoes.

"That's exactly the problem! You're oh so great at everything without trying, while I work my ass off and still fail! My parents praise you every time even when you're not around! I hate this! You're oh so perfect and I have to endure this shit!" While shouting at him, you struggle a bit with your shoes, not noticing him approaching you slowly with a dark look in his eyes until you're standing up straight again, and the next second, your back collides with the door. "That's what you think? That I get handed everything on a silver plate? Says the little princess that never had to work a single day in her life, while I had to work my ass off for my parents to even support me, you never had to worry a single day, and yes I might not need to study that much like others, doesn't mean I don't work for it." The words he spits at you are venomous, and you are not able to look away from the scowl on his face.

"I don't care! You're annoying! You think so much of yourself and have to pull me into it! I hate you!" And with that Choi San had enough, pressing his lips roughly against yours to finally shut you up. "Will you shut up finally? I never intended for you to hate me! I even wanted to be friends when we were kids; it's not my fault either of our parents acted like that!" Eyes wide as you watch San in silence, pushing him away as you quickly exit the apartment, him simply watching you as the door slowly closes.

Clutching over your heart with heavy breath in the elevator, your body felt hot, blushing heavily. It wasn't the fact that you were mad; it wasn't that you hated that he kissed you. No.. you hated the fact it did something to you, the fact you felt butterflies in your stomach, having felt a spark between you two. Yunho and Mingi would go crazy when you tell them.

Arriving at home, your mom asks how the tutoring went, ignoring her and going straight to your room, face-planting on your bed before screaming into the pillow. You hated him, you hated his guts, you hated his personality, but you didn't hate the kiss, you didn't hate the butterflies he gave you while pinning you against the door, the spark he ignited when his lips met yours. It was irritating, just as much as he is.

After staring at the wall for a while, you slowly sit up again, exhaling loudly, seriously, what is with him? Why does he have to be so annoying? Touching your lips now, you could still basically feel his soft lips on your own; shaking your head. Now, you end up taking a cold shower to get those thoughts out of your head.

But you couldn't; nothing helped; not the cold shower, not watching your favorite show, not listening to music,, and falling asleep was also almost impossible. Though plagued by San, his soft lips, his broad body, and his strong hands, you wanted to cry from how much he was haunting your mind right now. So, in the end, you barely ended up sleeping and went to school sleep-deprived, Mingi laughing at the big circles under your eyes before Yunho scolded the younger of the two. "But seriously, you don't look well. Shouldn't you stay at home?" Shaking your head at Yunho's question, no, you couldn't afford to miss any classes, especially math. "I'll be fine, but thanks for worrying about me." Giving him a small smile, before listening to the professor again.

In the end, Yunho was right; you should've stayed at home; your body wasn't used to barely getting any sleep, so a hard migraine soon hit you, groaning and massaging your temple, trying to follow anything the professor was saying. "Miss Y/n, could you please come to the front and solve the problem?" Great of course he had to ask you out of all the people here, standing up on shaking legs. Your feet slowly carry you to the front of the class, the whole room spinning as you take the chalk into your hand. "Sir I don't think Y/n is doing so well." Sans voice cut in, as the professor looks at you. Body looking exhausted, deep rings under your eyes, your eyes slightly red, and your handshaking.

Just as he wanted to ask if you'd like to go to the infirmary, your body was falling, being caught by someone before hitting the floor. "I'll take her." Vision blurry so you couldn't tell who it was, Mingi? Or Yunho? Probably one of them, so you just rest your head on the person's shoulder as they carry your weak body to the infirmary. And the next thing you know is waking up alone, sitting up slowly, the migraine still slightly torturing your head. "Wouldn't think a simple kiss makes you lose your whole mind." Head shooting up as San moves to behind the curtain of your bed, a glass of water in his hand. "Here drink." Placing the water into your hands now he watches you gulp down the cool liquid.

"Here, the nurse gave me some sugar to give you when you wake up." Looking at the little candy in his hand, you take it, letting it slowly dissolve on your tongue, lips pulled into a slight pout. "You're really something; why did you come when you barely slept or at least went home when you got a migraine,e, hm?" Sitting down beside you, his hand reaches out to massage just the right spot in your neck, the pain stopping for a moment. "This is all your fault.. Why did you have to kiss me? I could've simply gone on my day and slept normally, but no, you had to confuse me." At that he dares to laugh, making you glare at him. "You were talking too much, so I shut you up." At that, you push his hand away, hitting his shoulder annoyed. "You're so annoying! Don't just kiss me! What is wrong with you! I wanted to leave!" San lets you hit his shoulder a bit to get your anger out, before grabbing your hands to still them.

"Are you mad I kissed you or are you mad you liked it?" Shutting you up with those words as your eyes grow wide, immediately turning your head to the side. "O-Of course because you just kissed me! I didn't like it!" Smiling at you now, he leans closer from his spot on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure? Seems like you're lying to me~" Hands still held in his, you look down at them, they're bigger than yours, holding yours so perfectly. "N-No! I didn't like it!" You lie again, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans closer to whisper in your ear, butterflies coming to life again in your stomach. "Then maybe I should kiss you so much more till you don't lie and admit how much you loved it~" His voice was deep in your ears as you shook your head, trying to push him away.

This shouldn't be happening, you shouldn't be feeling like this. You hated Choi San; he was annoying, a brat, yet here he was, making your heartbeat pick up.

"Well, rest well; I'll see you later." And with that he leaves, leaving you all flustered and frustrated.

"What do you mean he kissed you?!" Mingi screeches from his place in the passenger driver's seat, turning his body to look at you in the back. "How I said it, he kissed me and.. He continues to try to get closer and.. Wh, is he so annoying?!" Slamming your head against the window, making Yunho scream in protest to now bang your head against his car. "Maybe he likes you? I mean, you never really talked to him; you decided to hate him since day one, didn't you?" Yunho was right; you barely even gave him a chance as your parents immediately started praising him and comparing you to him, while his parents just boosted him about how amazing their son is. "Why don't you give him a chance? He obviously seems to like you despite how you treated him for years." Mingis chirps in now, looking at you, watching you shake your head now. "Never, he probably just does this to get on my nerves." Both of the boys look at you, doubting, but stay quiet now on the topic.

"Seonghwa! Hongjoong!" Running over to the two waiting man, you happily embrace both of them, staying in Seonghwas arms much longer. "Hello darling how are you? And how are you two? Sorry we couldn't meet up recently, Hongjoong and I have been away on jobs abroad." Hongjoong was a designer for his own very famous brand and Seonghwa was his main model, they were a few years older yet still were at university when you started, that's also how you guys met. "No worries! Just glad you two are back! Missed you alot! How was Paris?" Looking at them, Hongjoong smiles as he starts to talk about the event they attended and how beautiful Paris was, saying how they'd take you with them next time.

"So how is it going with San? Still annoyed by him?" Seonghwa asks now, watching you roll your eyes, as Mingi already interferes. "He kisses her, and since then,n, she has been confused!" Making the two older men look at you shocked while you hit Mingi on the back of his head, making him whine. "Out of the blue?" Hongjoong questions now as you nod, explaining the whole situation to them. "It could be that you're feeling that way because it was your first kiss; maybe that's why you're feeling all those butterflies and felt a spark." Seonghwas words held some truth; it could definitely be that, in the end, you never had your first kiss, and San just stole it.

The whole dinner, those thoughts were stuck in your head. Was it really just because it was your first kiss, or was it because it was San?

"Hey, you're up in your pretty head." Seonghwa comes to walk beside you, a few meters behind the others. "I'm just confused. I have hated him for my whole life, and now he kisses me, and I get all flustered and giddy, yet I don't know if it's because of him or because I got kissed." Listening closely, the handsome man beside you nods, coming to a halt beside you. "Do you want help to figure it out?" Now you looked at Seonghwa confused, who softly smiled at you, not really knowing how anyone could help you figure this out, yet you still nodded. "Pardon me then." His hand reaches out to hold your cheek softly, as he tilts your head up and locks your lips with his. Seonghwas lips felt different; unlike San, he was very soft and careful, warm, and tasted a little bit like a strawberry. His lips smooth from taking proper care of them. Yet you felt no sparks and definitely no butterfly as he pulls away.

"So?" Smiling at you, already seeing the gears turn in your head, having figured out that it was San causing the butterflies and not because you got kissed. "You should talk to him, darling; maybe you have done him wrong by being so mean to him; maybe he is different than you think." Patting your head softly, looking ahead as Hongjoong shouts for the two of you, grabbing your hand as he pulls you after the other three men.

That night you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while holding your plush bunny to your chest, finally having enough as you grab your phone and open San contact. Barely any conversation was in the chat. For a second, you think about what to write till you quickly type in. 'If you're serious about this, I'll give you one chance tomorrow at 6 pm, Han River.' Hitting send, you quickly exit the chat, throwing your phone on your fluffy carpet as your body falls back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling nervously. At the same time, in Sans's apartment, he got all giddy, already rummaging through his closet for a perfect outfit, thinking of what he should bring along, make a picnic basket with some fruits?

The next day, you wait at the exact place you told San to meet up, fingers fidgeting with the bracelet you had on, as a tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. San stood behind you in casual yet fitting clothes. "Hey, I didn't know what your plan was, so I just brought some snacks." He shows you the bag of snacks as you nod at him. "That's fine; I thought we could watch the sunset; I brought a blanket." Following you through the few people already sitting on the grass, you two find a nice spot, a bit away from everyone else as you take a seat.

"So.. what made you change your mind?" Looking up from munching on a few chocolate cookies, you swallow before answering him. "A friend helped me figure something out that made me change my mind." Keeping it vague, San senses he probably shouldn't ask any further. "I'm glad, really; whatever that friend did, tell him to thank you for making you give me a chance finally." His dimples show as he smiles. You two continue to talk a bit, not once mentioning university, grades, or your parents, making you realize the problem wasn't San but your parents. San told you about his hobbies, but you didn't even know he was in a little dance crew with Wooyoung and Yeosang, he even went so far as showing you a few clips when they were filming in the streets; you even complimented him, which he blushed. Telling him about yourself more now, he listened intently as if trying to remember every little thing you tell him.

"San.." Looking from the setting sun to you, he murmurs to tell you to continue talking. "I'm sorry for how I have treated you.. I gave you the fault for how my parents treated me; I think I just tried to find a scapegoat, and you were just there." It felt good to finally apologize to him directly; you definitely now needed a long talk with your parents, though. "Hey no worries, I never gave up because I hoped someday you would give me a chance, even if it was just as a friend." Nodding at that, you're glad he wasn't mad at you, though you wouldn't take offense if he did. After all, you were awful to him since the day you two met.

"May I ask a favor of you?" The voice was small, already flustered from what you were about to ask him. "Sure, what is it?" San looked at you, sensing your shyness. He took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. "Can you kiss me again?" His eyes light up and without a second word, he locks his lips with yours. Sparks flew as his lips met yours, butterflies erupting in your stomach, and now you for sure knew it was San causing those emotions and not just being simply kissed; you had to thank Seonghwa later for making you realize this. The kiss lasted a bit longer than the first time because you, of course, kissed him back, eyes closed as his other hand came to cup your cheek.

"I can't believe you're the one causing butterflies in my stomach in the end.." You mumble against his lips, making the man before you laugh, feeling your stomach turn at that again, your cheeks flushing red. Maybe it wasn't hate this whole time you felt, but adoration, longing, not knowing what those emotions felt like.

"Remember how you used to hate me?" San asks you with a smirk, leaning over the back to the couch of your shared apartment as you groan; even after years of dating now, he still brings that up. "Seriously, shut up, please! I explained it to you!" Wanting to hide your face in a pillow, you couldn't as San tilted your head back, looking into your eyes before sealing his lips with yours. "I'm just teasing you and hey, you can always shut me up the way I did." Smirking he runs back to the kitchen as you want to hit him for flustering you so much.

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leechqnsgirl · 12 days ago

Text

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ot9!andteam: comforting you when you're stressed out

notes: based off of this ask

andteam x fem!reader | wc: 3.2k | comfort, fluff | masterlist

warnings: language, kissing, reader cries, taki almost cries, yuma's teasing takes a wrong turn :( , harua's and taki's is like a reverse of this whole plot lmfaoo,

****

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ KOGA YUDAI

kei hadn't seen you in what felt like days.

the last time he spoke with you, you were venting about the amount of upcomings exams and assignments you had. and so, he tried his best to be there for you.

but...he didn't want to be too overbearing. so he also tried his best to give you space.

and with him, himself, getting caught up with work he wasn't able to speak to you.

a few short messages being sent here and there, a small phone call too. but that was it.

so when kei pulled up to your front door, your favorite snacks were in a bag.

he didn't expect for you to open the door and look so...

miserable.

"baby?" was the first word he spoke to you.

and just the sight of him was enough to make your eyes well up with tears.

you pulled him into your house, he kicked the door closed behind him and felt your arms warp around him.

he dropped the bag of snacks, wrapping his own arms around you.

he swayed the two of you for a bit, one hand placed on the top of your head.

"come on, you wanna go relax? watch a movie or take a nap." he spoke to you so softly, your eyes unmoving from his own.

"yeah." you sniffled, holding now one of his hands as you two went to your couch.

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ MURATA FUMA

you think you might just have the most understanding boyfriend ever.

but you also think you might just be the worst girlfriend ever.

you've been canceling a lot on fuma lately, but it isn't your fault entirely. finals season is in action and your teachers have been throwing tests and assignments and essays at you left and right.

the second you finish one, you have another to do. and so you've been postponing and cancling a lot of data plans you two came up with.

today was too much. you took a huge test at school and couldn't even breathe when you got home. your apartment was a mess, your work unfinished and on top of all this. you just got a text from your boyfriend.

poké nerd 🫶: hey baby, the screening for the movie's gonna start soon, are you ready?

fuck.

you completely forgot. again.

you were about to shoot him a text when you heard some knocks on your door. walking over to open it, you already knew who it was.

"ready?" he asked as he stepped in, standing by the front door.

your heart burned. you wanted to throw all your responsibilities out the window just for one day with your boyfriend.

you shook your head. "im sorry, baby, i completely forgot. and i'm really busy. but my semesters almost over, i promise."

you heard a sigh from him. "no." you stepped back in shock. literally.

"what?" he walked over, closer to you now. "you're gonna come out with me, okay? you're gonna come out and we'll have fun and when we get back," he placed a kiss on your forehead. "we can have a study date. I'll help you with your work. guaranteed 100%."

"I-I don't know..." he rolled his eyes playfully, "i do know. and plus, i was a straight A student." he held your face in his hands. "you need a break, y/n. i hate seeing you like this and feeling useless. you can cancel a million times on me and i won't be upset."

he pressed his forehead against yours. "so please. just relax. just for today. you won't regret it, i promise." he smiled, looking into your eyes.

"i love you, honey. so come on, go get dressed." you nodded your head. "i love you too."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ WANG YIXIANG

you were locked in your room all day.

you weren't even eating well or anything, in your mind you didn't have that kind of time to sacrifice.

and your boyfriend was on the other side of your wall, debating with himself on whether he should give you space or go to you.

and just when he was about to knock on your door, see if you were hungry or wanted a break, he heard you shakily sigh. a curse following right after.

he finally went in, seeing you with your back hunched over your desk and your palms pressing into your eyes.

"y/n?" your throat felt so dry at the sound of his voice, "y/n, babe, are you okay..?" you turned around in your chair, your eyes red. and if that was from the tears gathering in them or the lack of sleep, you didn't know.

you shook your head, "god, nicho, I just have so much. and I feel like I'm not even close to finishing." you said, your voice cracked at the last word.

wordlessly, he walked over to you, grabbing you by your forearm to stand up in front of him. and he wrapped his arms around you, placing one on the back of your head as he felt your arms go around him.

he could feel the wet tears hitting his shoulder, his heart breaking at it. your occasional shaky breaths did nothing but hurt him more.

"I know, baby. but I want you to know I'm right here, I'm always gonna be right here if you ever wanna talk or take a break." he pulls away from you for a second, looking into your eyes as he places one of his hands on your cheek, cradling your face. "don't let your work kill you. it's not worth ruining yourself over. and we can find you a tutor if you want, hm?"

you wiped your eyes, sniffling. "o-okay."

he smiles at you, not one of joy or sadness. just one full of love.

"I love you, y/n. you're the strongest person I know." he pressed a kiss to your nose, teasing you.

you laughed softly. "thank you, nicho." you leaned in to press your own lips against his. "I love you too."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ BYUN EUIJOO

euijoo had offered to help you study with a class that you were struggling with. and so, in desperation, you agreed.

the two of you were sitting doing the same kind of problems for the past forty minutes. every single time you thought you finally understood, ej would point out something that you missed.

you were getting sick of it all. you felt so stupid in front of him. getting it wrong every time while he just breezed through it.

and now, once again, you got another practice problem wrong.

you huffed out, dropping your pencil on the table.

"I can't keep doing this, euijoo. this is ridiculous." he shook his head at your words.

"you're getting better, sweetheart. really. you just need a bit more practice." you rolled your eyes. "no, euijoo. i'm just gonna take the F at this point."

he reached a hand over to the table, grabbing yours. "one more. please? and if you still don't get it we'll take a break and get back to it another day." you sighed, nodding your head.

and so after he pointed out your last mistake, and you corrected it he gave you the last question.

you slid your paper over to him, waiting to hear a so close, you just missed one thing. but instead, you heard something different.

"you got it!" your eyes widened, "what?" he smiled at you as he nodded his head. "see I told you, I knew you could do it." he pulled your chair closer to his, pulling you for a hug.

you smiled back, still in disbelief.

"thank you, baby. thank you so much." he blushed at your words, shrugging his shoulders, "it was all you, honey."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ NAKAKITA YUMA

you were cooped up in your room all day. yuma felt like he hadn't seen you in ages, and so of course he wanted to go and bother you.

yuma thought you were probably just tired. he had no idea that you were doing piles of homework and studying. especially considering how, as soon as he arrived at the apartment, you simply greeted him and said, "I'll be out soon, don't come in."

it's only been two hours since then.

without even knocking, he walks into the room, finding you on your bed sat against the headboard with your laptop in your lap.

"wow, y/n. ditching me for some youtube?" he teased, walking over to where you were and pushed your laptop screen shut.

"yuma!" you yelled out, swatting his hand away. "yuma, I swear to god if my work wasn't saved I'm gonna kill you." yuma furrowed his eyebrows. "you were doing homework?"

you opened your laptop, seeing that it did an automatic restart.

"yuma, what the hell is wrong with you? I've been working on that all day!" yuma's hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. "m-maybe it's not gone!"

you breathed out heavily through your nose. "Yuma, just go outside. I told you I'll be out when I'm done." he nodded his head, avoiding your eyes. "I'm sorry.." he whispered, quiet enough that had missed it.

it was an hour and a half later when you came out of your room, going to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

you were just about to tell your boyfriend that you finished when you saw him asleep on the couch with a bakery box of sweets from your favorite bakery.

now you feel like shit. you yelled at him, kicked him out and never apologized even when he's been waiting for you all day.

you quietly walked over to where yuma was lying asleep on the couch.

"yuma..." you tapped his shoulder. "yuma," you brought a hand up to brush the hairs away from his face.

"mmm." he groaned, opening his eyes to see you.

you swallowed. "yuma, I'm so sorry." you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I shouldn't have been so mean to you. I was just stressed out with school work and-" he brought his bigger hand over to lay on yours. "'s okay," he said, voice a bit heavy. "It's my fault, really."

"I should've known you were doing homework and not have messed with you." his cheeks were dusted a pretty shade of pink.

before you could speak another word, he sat up. "I was waiting for you to finish so we can chill out. y'know get your mind off the work."

you nodded your head, "I'd love that."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ASAKURA JO

you were taking night classes, your least favorite.

you got home late, didn't have much time to clean up or eat or even do your work. and you just wanted the ground to swallow you up as your professor went on and on about the subject.

now, technically, you can just get up and leave. but, you didn't pay for this semester for nothing.

you were dozing off a bit in class when you got a text from your boyfriend.

white rice 😋🤍: I'm gonna pick you up after class today, so see you soon! love you.

you couldn't help but smile at your phone, glad that after a two hour lecture, the first thing you'd see was jo.

you: okayy, love you too!! <33

and now finally, you were done.

you walked outside and saw your boyfriend sitting on a bench.

you walked up to behind him, placing your arms around his shoulders as you press a kiss right on his head.

"honey?" he asked, confusion in his voice. "mm, no. I'm a random woman kissing another girls boyfriend." you teased.

even under the campus lights, you could see your boyfriend's ears turn a light shade of pink.

he cleared his throat, "so, i-i know how you're probably tired right now and stuff...but um, I thought it'd be nice to go on a night walk together. clear our minds, you know?" your heart literally melted on the spot.

your knees? jelly.

all because of your adorable boyfriend.

you nodded your head, giving a kiss on the lips this time.

"of course, I'd love that, baby." you linked your hand with his. "thank you, for always thinking of me."

he tried his best to hide his smile. "its natural for me, y/n. almost like breathing."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ SHIGETA HARUA

what are the odds that you missed your boyfriend's arrival back in japan.

you had promised to meet him at their dorm, you planned a huge surprise and everything.

only for it all to go down the drain.

you forgot.

you were so caught up with your own work and constant studying that you didn't even realize the date came closer than expected.

you were stuck in your room after school. doing your best to finish up as much as you can.

so when you suddenly got a text from taki, you were confused.

taki 🐣: yo, are you gonna be here soon? your bfs acting weird.

you: ??? i cant just spawn in korea

taki 🐣: we landed back here like four hours ago...

with wide eyes, you quickly pulled up the date on your phone.

fuck.

harua did just land.

you rushed out of your room, making sure you look at least put together and threw your shoes on.

you rushed to a nearby cafe that you and harua loved, getting his favorite.

knock knock.

you'd made it over to their dorm about twenty minutes after taki texted you.

nicholas was the one that opened the door for you, offering you a small smile and stepped to the side for you to walk in.

you didn't even need to ask, you knew where harua would be.

you knocked on the door gently before entering his room, pushing the door to see him lying down. back facing you.

you walked over to him, kneeling on the floor beside the bed as you put a hand in his hair. "rua...?" you called out for him hesitantly.

you heard him let out a breath through his nose, turning over as he faced you.

with a strained smile, you grabbed his hand. "harua, I'm so sorry, honey." you brought his hand up to your lips, "I lost track of time, I didn't mean to." he shakes his head, sitting up now. "i-i get it, but I still wish you were the first face I saw.."

that just made you feel like the biggest jerk in the whole world.

you couldn't hold it anymore, you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.

"never again. okay?" he nods his head, "never again." he mirrors your words.

"what do you say, you wanna go to my place and relax?" finally, he smiled. "I'd love that."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ TAKAYAMA RIKI

you had put your phone on silent.

telling yourself you were going to completely put your focus on studying.

you went into your room and left your phone in the kitchen.

now, your boyfriend didn't know this.

he didn't know you had lots of work and he didn't know you put your phone on do not disturb.

for past few days, you and taki had exchanged small texts and check-ins with each other. phone calls barely go on for more than twenty minutes.

the last time he saw you was when you two went on a date. and he thought it went well.

so to not hear from you properly was worrying him.

were you mad at him? did he do something? did you hear something about him?

everything bad was going through his mind.

he decided today he was going to make it up to you. he couldn't take not seeing you anymore.

you were his person. his love.

he bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers and made his way to your house.

it took a few knocks from him for you to finally open the door.

he was freaking out on the inside, his entire plan going out the window as soon as he saw your face.

"taki?" he cleared his throat, swallowing a lump he didn't even know was there.

"y/n, I'm really sorry." he extended his hands out, giving you the flowers. "I d-don't really know what happened but i'll make it up to you. I really hate it when we don't talk."

his voice got quieter at the end as he blinked rapidly.

he didn't even know why he started tearing up, he just did.

your heart ached for him. did you make him think he did something wrong?

you took the flowers from him, placing them down on the cabinet you had near the front door.

you shook your head, "no, baby." you pulled him into your arms, "you didn't do anything, I know you wouldn't even do anything to me." he tucked his head into your shoulder as he sniffled, nodding his head.

"I thought you were upset with me." you softly laughed at his statement. not to make fun of him, but out of his adorableness.

"never. I just had so much to do." he lifted his head, "why weren't you answering my texts and calls?"

okay, now it all made sense.

"I'm so sorry. I should've told you. I just left my phone on silent so I didn't get distracted."

he nodded his head, his expression suddenly becoming shy.

"I just feel like a kid now." he laughs at himself. "can't believe I got upset over that." you cooed at him, he was just too cute.

"no! noo, it's fine. I would've done the same. if anything I would've been more dramatic."

he grabs your hands in his, playing with your fingers.

"do you still have more work?" biting your lip, you nodded your head. "but you could stay with me. as long as you promise to not mess around."

he doesn't think he's ever nodded his head so fast. "and after, we could take a walk? if it's not too late.." he offered.

you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "that's sounds perfect. I'd love to clear my head after it all."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ HIROTA RIKI

maki knew how stressed you'd been this past week.

and so, with his only free day he decided to do something for you.

you and maki are both big foodies, you guys are down to try any kind of food. to an extent, of course though.

he made sure you never left your room for the afternoon, getting started on the surprise lunch.

it was a bit tough, but he was determined to do it.

probably about an hour later, maki managed to drag you out of your room.

he sat you down at the dinner table and told you to close your eyes.

confused, you hesitantly lifted your hands up to cover your eyes.

you smelled the food before you saw it, your mouth watering at it all.

"okay! open."

you gasped when you saw the plate in front of you. "maki, you actually made this?" he nodded his head, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

"I know how stressed out you've been...so I wanted to take a few minutes to just sit down with you." you couldn't help the big smile that came onto your face.

you leaned over the table, giving maki a quick kiss on his lips.

you pick up your spoon and dig into the food, tasting it.

your eyes practically sparkled. "maki this is amazing!" he had a shy smile on his face, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm glad you like it, angel."

262 notes · View notes

futurewdclandonorris · 2 years ago

Text

Dinner Reservation | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: you had plans to go out, Lando had other. Watch what happens when you tell him no

Warnings: barely any plot just smut, light dom Lando, kinda bratty both Lando and the reader, and assholes too (idk what came over me, I thought I was being funny) some cringe bits for the sake of the 'plot' but we move, kinda long that's why I included word count, hint of exhibitionism, unprotected sex

Word count: 5389

A/N: Okay, I really need to learn how to write summaries, if anyone wants to be my editor you can hit me up. Perks are you get to see the original copy before I rewrite it for tumblr

Credits to @twinkodium for prompting this idea and brainstorming it with me ♥

You stepped out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around your body. Not bringing any clothes with you, you proceeded out of the bathroom to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. He was sprawled out on the bed, obviously dissatisfied about something–still in his hoodie and black sweats–but the moment you opened the door, his whole demeanor changed, his hungry eyes following you as you strolled across the room to your still unpacked suitcase. Bending down to get your underwear, you felt two arms wrap around your waist, stopping you mid motion.

You smirked, popping your behind and pressing it harder against his pelvis as you fished a pair of panties from the case. He lowly grunted, removing your hair from one shoulder to another, which gave him a clean access for planting a kiss on your neck.

"Plans canceled, why don't you get on the bed for me, gorgeous?" he murmured against your skin.

You tried to sustain your smile, finding the whole situation amusing. Getting a hold of yourself, you turned around to face him.

"We can't cancel plans just because you suddenly got horny." you playfully rolled your eyes. "They're waiting for us."

The plan was to go out and grab dinner with Oscar and Lily. Something like a double date and get together outside business hours.

"They can wait." he still had that stupid grin on his face, brushing his fingertips over the side of yours, his eyes roaming all over your features.

"No, they can't. You're acting like a spoiled child, you know that?" you teased, giving him a playful shove. "Now go get ready, we're already late as it is. They're probably wondering where we are." you urged and knowing there was no point further arguing with you, he scoffed and walked over to the dresser.

"You're acting like we don't spend three weekends a month with them," he protested, buttoning his shirt only a halfway up. "But fine. If you won't listen to me now, I'll bend you over that goddamn dinner table and fuck you in front of everyone. Maybe that will be more appealing to you-"

"Don't be ridiculous." you snorted a laugh.

"Say I won't do it." he stood tall and incredibly close in front of you, his eyes boring into yours making you feel smaller than you were. And you could swear, you didn't know if your wetness was from the shower or somethin else entirely different.

"Please, dress up, sweetheart." he finished, his voice somewhat mocking, leaving you to clutch your panties to your chest standing in the middle of the room.

This whole ordeal may or may have not resulted in you changing the outfit you had in mind from the top. Instead of an orange sundress, you slipped into a white linen bodycon dress that perfectly hugged your curves, cut out sides exposing your toned waist and highlighting your hip bones. Deep v neck brought exposure to your cleavage as well.

Studying yourself in the mirror, the material was so thin it was almost see through. Lando absolutely hated loved this dress. You completed the look with some white sandals. You were in the process of putting on your gold earrings when Lando walked in.

"Are you anywhere near do-" he choked out, eyes turning a darker shade of green as they scanned you from head to toe. He cleared his throat before speaking "You look amazing, darling." he complimented, with a little bitter taste to the pet name he just called you, obviously not approving of the attire. Jackpot.

"Thank you, darling." you grinned as you walked up to him and pecked his cheek, completely ignoring the fact he was fuming.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Lead the way." you responded, your lips still curved into a smile, and laced your hands together.

On the drive to the restaurant, his knuckles turned completely white from how strong his grip on the steering wheel was. His eyes never darted from the road, not even once. No hand holding nor even one kiss at the red light. But instead, you drove in silence, only soft music playing from the radio making any noise as you tried to hide your satisfaction, which you will probably come to regret later, looking out the window.

As expected, Oscar and Lily arrived before you. You apologized for keeping them waiting, but they said they only just got there a few minutes ago due to traffic. A waiter immediately approached you and had your orders right under way in a few moments.

During dinner, Lando wasn't completely ignoring you, but he wasn't really paying attention or engaging with you either. Which didn't come off as strange or like something was wrong between you. You girls had your girl talk and boys had their boy talk. Lily couldn't always attend a race weekend and it's been a while since you last saw her. But there was a mischievous spark in his eyes, only someone who had known him for years could notice, telling you he was planning something.

First, he'd casually drop his hand on your thigh under the table and just rest it there, and then remove it without a second thought, continuing his conversation with Oscar like nothing happened. After a while, he'd put it back on, only higher this time and gently grasp the skin, his thumb drawing circles. Your muscles tensed and made you jump in your seat. He noticed, of course, without sparing you a second glance and dragged his palm up and down your inner thigh like that was going to soothe you. He stopped and left you alone once more when your main course arrived.

While waiting for dessert, his fingers brushed the fabric of your panties without previous warning that made you gasp audibly and place your elbows on the table to support your forehead with your hands, making all cutlery clank. That finally drove some confused looks from Oscar and Lily.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, curiosity getting the best of her cause this wasn't the first time you jumped in your seat during the conversation.

"I'm fine." you breathed, faking a smile. You turned towards Lando and hissed, covering your mouth "What are you doing?"

He leaned closer into your side, his lips brushing your earlobe as he whispered "I'm thinking about having my dessert now." his fingers still feathered over you. You gave him a wide eyed look. "Say I won't do it." he repeated his words from earlier that instantly made you blush.

"You... you're crazy." you whispered back, glancing sideways at the confused faces around you, most likely thinking you were talking about the weather. God, you hoped they were thinking you were talking about the weather.

"Say it." he insisted, his palm coming to a stop on your pussy.

You bit your lip, getting a clear image of him bending you over the table while Lily, Oscar and the waiter looked on as Lando fucked you right in front of them. It made you wet and you hated yourself for it.

"I... I'm saying it." you mumbled.

"What?" he took a sip of his drink.

"I'm saying it." you leaned closer as the people around you were now completely involved in their own conversations, acting like they didn't hear you the first time. "I'm saying you won't do it." maybe one thing Lando often forgets is how stubbornly bratty you can get.

Lando started, but was interrupted by the waiter coming to pick up your dessert orders. He only quickly added that you will settle this later. The Great Dessert Debate concluded after you were done with your meals. Lily was lobbying for ice cream, Oscar insisting on sorbet, Lando not really giving a damn as long as he wasn't going to have cake and you, of course, wanted something naughty. Oscar finally convinced Lily that sorbet would taste better than ice cream and they decided to get it to-go to bring home. You sighed and ordered cheesecake eventually.

"I changed my mind." Lando started. "I won't be having any dessert here." he smirked and glanced at you.

Idle as he was, he didn't waste an opportunity to dip his hand between your thighs once more and stroke you up and down as soon as you dipped your spoon in your cheesecake. You could've made a scene, but how you were practically purring in your seat, you decided not to.

"Don't move and finish your little treat," he murmured and brought his lips to your cheek and kissed it. "I'm sure sugar will give you enough energy for what's about to come later." you could almost choke as you swallowed.

He squeezed your thigh again under the table, giving you a once over and letting his eyes settle on your mouth. You knew what he was trying to do. He was attempting to turn you on in public while everyone else was almost done with their desserts and it worked, damn it. He didn't stop touching you until dessert was over and the bill was paid, but this time he slid his palm all the way up to your slit and stroked you through the fabric while you were busy–struggling–saying goodbye to Lily and Oscar.

You almost didn't want to get in the car with him, but to drag him to the nearest restroom and have him there. You were just on the verge of exploding, burning and dying a death of a thousand orgasms that needed to be let out, and let out now.

He put the car in drive, with you sitting right next to him, still wet and hard and throbbing. You didn't bother to keep your voice low this time. You huffed and fumed, wanting nothing more than to choke his pretty little neck.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking at you out of the corner of his eye to avoid a car accident with a grin on his face. He really is fucking crazy, you thought.

"You're so damn frustrating. Why haven't you touched me yet?"

"I'm touching you now." he smirked.

"You asshole! You're not touching me-Ah!" you yelped as he dug his thumb into your wetness and began rubbing you, his left hand steadily steering. You spread your legs as far as the car allowed and pulled your knee up, giving him as much access as you could.

"Oh god..." you relaxed and succumbed to your pleasure, making his thumb work at its full potential.

His other fingers were busy playing with your pussy, tracing the fabric to your entrance, but never actually going inside. You were breathing heavily as his fingers grazed closer to your clit each time he would repeat his movements. His thumb found your clit and started massaging it while his pointer and middle finger pulled your panties to the side and slipped in, parting your walls. You shuddered and moaned, but kept your eyes on the road ahead of you.

The way he was touching you was incredible, you were so wet that you could already feel the heat radiating from your skin. And he was doing all that while driving. One hand on the steering wheel, the other one down your panties.

He looked really hot, you had to admit to yourself, as you bit your lip glancing over at him. His eyes fixed on the road, concentration evident on his face as he drilled into you with his right hand. You wanted to lean over and kiss him.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting that spot. Pumping in and out, you were getting more and more jerky in the passenger seat, only the seat belt restraining you from bucking your hips forward. It was getting so good, so painfully good when he pulled his fingers out of you.

"Don't do that." you whined, as he noticed your hips jerking and tried to move his hand to make you come.

"What?"

"That," you breathed, "Pull your fingers out of me."

He chuckled and put his palm over your pussy again, stroking you from the top. You started getting wetter and your breaths got faster and louder.

"Lando... Please! Don't." you muttered, knowing that in a matter of minutes you'd achieve sweet release.

He continued nonetheless, his nails scratching your skin every time the pad of his thumb would meet with your clitoris. You groaned and spread your legs wider, moaning Lando's name as you came.

"Seriously?" he chuckled again, stopping at the red light.

"Shut up." you glared at him and puffed your disheveled hair out of your face. He was still smiling. "That was not funny." you hissed, removing his hand from you.

"I agree." he said, undeterred by your actions. He brought the hand that was on your pussy up to his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "Mm, now this is what I call dessert." he moaned, licking his lips and savoring the taste. "And that was your first orgasm of the night, babe."

"You're an asshole." you pouted.

"So you've told me." he drove off, his hand coming back to rub your thigh.

"Lando, I'm serious," you grabbed his fingers and pushed them away. "Stop."

"Babe, you should really learn to finish what you start." he said, his cottage cheese fingers now replaced by the dripping wetness of his mouth. "Did you forget?"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I'm marrying you for your money."

"And your body." he added, letting his fingers lick your inner thigh.

"You bastard."

"We still have business to run when we get home." he announced, glancing quickly over at you. But your eyes were already half-lidded and there was a pleasant ache between your legs.

"Just drive." you muttered.

"I'm serious." he lightly chuckled, putting his right hand on your leg and rubbing you solidly through your skirt.

"We'll see." you adjusted yourself in the seat. You closed your eyes as you made yourself comfortable, enjoying the rest of the ride home.

Like he knew you needed a bit more rest, he took a longer route home. Pulling into your driveway, you smirked as the lights illuminated your face. You cleared your throat and fixed your skirt before exiting the car and sauntering over to the front of the house without giving a second glance to Lando. You made sure to sway your hips a little extra to grab his attention which worked, considering you were already unlocking the front door when you heard a soft click of his car door, meaning he stayed behind. Your feet were killing you and you only got to kick off one shoe when a pair of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Back where we started," he whispered.

"Something like that." you smiled, your hand grabbing the nape of his neck as you kicked the other shoe off. You stood flat on your bare feet, significantly shorter than him now.

He traced your shoulder with kisses up to your neck, his palms riding up your waist to cup your breasts. A low moan escaped you as he thumbed your nipple. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as your hips began to grind against him.

"I want you." you breathed into his ear.

He was hard against you and you could already feel yourself dripping wet for him. He turned you around, smashing your lips together as he picked you up and carried you to the living room couch. He sat down with you straddling him, your kissing already turned into a heavy make out session, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth and vice versa.

One hand on your hip helping you rock back and forth, the other one on your jaw and throat, choking lightly and keeping your head in place. His hips buckled up as you sped your movements, making him hiss into your mouth and bite harder on your lower lip. You let out a soft cry, but didn't let that stop you.

Now both of his hands roamed the open back of your dress, his face pressed flat in your cleavage until he brought one of his hands and tugged harshly down at the top of your dress, afraid you heard something snap.

"Oh, did I rip it? Did I rip it for good this time?" he got a bit too overly excited for your liking.

"Yeah, I think one of my straps snapped." you breathed, flustered.

"Thank god!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose in your cleavage. "I've been waiting for this day."

"I didn't realize you were such a fan of this dress." you sarcastically remarked, rolling your eyes, knowing damn well how he felt about it. You glanced down and saw he had torn the top of the dress almost to your belly button.

"Sorry." he grinned.

"No, you're not." you couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to make me buy a new one." you said, trying to push his face back into your cleavage.

"I'll pay for it." he nodded. You shook your head dismissively, deciding to let the subject go.

Coming up to your breasts, he pressed his palms over them before rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You moaned as he did, his breath hot on your skin. He moved his mouth to suck on your left breast, closing his eyes and taking in your scent. You let your hand fall to his waist, pulling at his belt. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, but only for a moment, before his tongue swirled around your right nipple. Your breath hitched when he grazed you with his teeth, your right hand tugging on his curls. He let your nipple pop out of his mouth before dragging his teeth over your skin, the sensation sending electric currents through you.

"I have an idea-"

"Oh no-"

"Can you stand up for me, please, love?" he innocently grinned up at you.

Just out of pure curiosity you listened to him. He turned you around so that your back was facing him.

"You're going to rip the rest off me, aren't you?"

"Guilty." he pulled the remaining strap down. Your hands were on the couch now, bracing yourself and waiting for his next move.

"You're so dirty." you said, unable to resist sounding disappointed.

"And you're so wet." he said, his fingers pressed up against your drenched panties.

"Shut up." you shuddered, his breath warming the back of your neck.

The fire in you was burning now. You felt his hands snake around your neck and his hot breath on your ear.

"Just because I don't like this dress doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you so much." he whispered.

"I love you more." you replied, relaxed.

He leaned in and kissed your back, all the way down your spine, making you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against your skin. His hands gently grabbed the remaining fabric of the dress on your hips and in one swift motion, tore it off your body.

"Whoops," he said, dropping the shreds that once made up a dress on the floor.

"You tease." you smirked over your shoulder.

"You love it."

You nodded. You felt his hands gently grab your hips as he pushed you forward a bit and stood up behind you. One of his hands spread across your lower back and the other reached down to grasp on your thigh. He pulled you back against him and you could feel his hardness in between your ass cheeks as he kissed your shoulder. You felt his hand wander up your inner thigh and lightly graze your clit. You moaned in approval and he took that as a cue to keep going. He slipped a finger or two inside you and it was almost instant that he was tapping your g-spot.

"Lando." you breathed, fully leaning on him for support.

"Yes, love?" his voice was deep and low.

"I want you." you whined for the second time that evening.

"And you'll have me." he said, without providing much information on when that will be.

He laid you back on the couch, opening your legs to slide his arms in between your thighs. He lifted your butt off the couch and you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, anticipating the moment where he'd have his face between your legs.

He descended on top of you, his lips kissing your neck before moving over to your ear. His teeth grazed your earlobe and you shuddered as he sucked.

"More." you panted, your fingers clawing at his shirt.

He smirked, giving your ear one last lick before moving his attention to your lips. His rough hands maneuvered over your skin, finally gripping your breasts and pinching your nipples. Your hands cupped his face as he roughly bit down on your lower lip, then moving to your jaw and then your neck.

You pulled off his dress shirt as he attacked your neck with his mouth and his teeth. Your eyes fluttered close as his teeth sank into your shoulder. He pulled away, leaving a series of hickeys on your skin. He climbed back on top of you, his hands snaking down to grab your ass. He looked into your eyes, biting down on his lip as he pushed his hardness into your thigh. You wiggled your hips, getting impatient for him to be inside of you.

"So impatient," he remarked. "Can't you see I'm trying to take my time with you?"

"This is torture." you said instead.

"Now, baby," he said, kissing his way down from in between your chest to your stomach. "No need for dramatics."

Positioning his face just above your pussy, he gently removed your panties as he pushed your legs a bit more forward, angling you just the way he wanted you. Without previous warning, he ran his hot tongue all over you. Oh, god, real torture begins now, you thought.

A moan chocked in your throat as your mouth hung agape. It didn't take long for him to start lapping around your folds, suck on your clit and fuck into your entrance with his pointy tongue. You were a squirmy and moany mess, one hand pulling on his hair, the othe one gripping the couch, but he didn't cease. In fact, it only encouraged him to flick his tongue over your sensitivity and keep tasting you up.

Thighs shaking and repeatedly panting his name, your climax arrived sooner that you anticipated. He licked you clean one last time before getting on top of you once more and kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips. You sank your teeth into his bottom lip as you sucked on it, receiving a moan into your mouth from him. He gave you a few more pecks before pulling you up by your arms into his embrace.

"What do you say we take this to the bedroom?" he questioned.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as he carried you like a child in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist.

He dropped you on the bed and fumbled with his pants. That gave you an opportunity to quickly get on your knees and take his belt off and unbutton his pants. He got the hint, taking them down. You rested your head on his thigh, looking up at him–pouting–as you stroked the bulge in his boxers. You probably couldn't count how many times he actually got a boner this evening and had to fight it. His lips parted, shaky breaths escaping him.

"Please..." he begged, fingers raking through your hair.

He didn't have to tell you twice to take his boxers off. After all, you could no longer deny him his pleasure after everything you've put him through this evening. He deserved his little treat. His length sprung forward and you rested it on your tongue. He shuddered, holding your head as you bobbed on him. You started going faster and it wasn't long before you could feel him twitching in your mouth.

You usually didn't do this, but you wanted to tease him as much as you could. When you felt him starting to lose his grip, you stopped and smiled as you looked up at him. Strands of saliva connected your mouth to his cock. He looked at you with a desperate look, his hands holding your head still.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Because you wanted to," you said, beaming.

He shook his head dismissively, returning a smile. You wrapped your lips around his tip again, sucking on him as hard as you could. His head fell back onto his shoulder, his eyes closed in ecstasy. You gripped him in your hands, stroking him as you bobbed your head up and down.

You stopped when it felt like his cock was about to burst. You let go and looked up at him and he caught you before you could say anything. He pulled you up and his lips crashed onto yours. The taste of him was still on your tongue, but you didn't mind. He kissed you tighter, his hands wrapped around your body, his fingers clawing at your lower back.

"Please, stop fucking teasing me." he groaned.

"I'm sorry." I pouted. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Want to show me just how sorry you are? Huh?" he grabbed your jaw, fixing your eyes on him. You nodded in response, this play only turning you on. "I'm going to fuck you right here." he muttered, his voice husky with lust. "Right on this bed, where I have fucked you numerous times before." he took your arms and pinned them to your sides. "Don't. Fight. Me." he warned, making sure not to repeat previous mistakes.

You shook your head and let out a nervous giggle.

"That's my girl." he leaned forward to kiss you again.

You moaned into it, pressing your body against him. His palm rubbed up your leg, parting it wider as he went to your thigh. He held your leg as he slipped it over his shoulder, his fingers brushing faintly over you, your hips bucking against him, urging him to go. He obliged by slipping two fingers. Your back arched up, your head falling back as you groaned.

"So wet for me." he grinned.

"You just don't know what you do to me." you explained, rocking your hips, enjoying the feeling of his fingers filling you up.

"I'll show you what I'm going to do to you." he claimed, gripping your hand and intertwining your fingers. His other hand was working its way further up your thigh and stopping above your knee.

"Do it, Lando." you pleaded.

He hoisted your other leg over his shoulder as well, changing the angle of your body and pushed himself into you. You twisted your head to look at him, your mouth hanging open as you let out a loud cry.

"Oh, fuck me, Lando..." you said breathily.

"Say my name." he rocked his hips faster.

"Lando," you gasped, your thighs beginning to shake.

"Louder." he commanded, squeezing your ass in his hands. "You're louder when you come."

"Lan... Lando!" you moaned, throwing your head back again.

The feeling was so overwhelming that you could feel yourself on the brink of climax. Your thighs started to shake violently and your stomach felt like it was being tickled on the inside. You moaned his name, trying to stifle a scream as you felt the most intense orgasm wash over you. You felt like you were going to pass out. It really had to be the most incredible feeling you ever experienced. You could feel him still hunched over you, filling you up.

"Lay down," he ordered.

"I can't even move," you gasped. "I'm numb."

"Good." he chuckled. "It means you enjoyed yourself."

"What about you?" you asked him.

"I'm covered in you." he kissed you. "That's more than enough."

"I want to make you feel good." you said, trying to catch your breath.

"That's something I'll have to work for." he smirked at you, rolling his cock inside you.

You bit your lip to keep you from moaning as you twisted your hips and dug your nails into his skin. He started kissing and sucking on your neck and your hands fell to his shoulders.

"I think you've had enough fun." he said, nibbling on your ear.

"Too much is never enough." you giggled. "Just stay inside me." you whispered as you put your arms back around his neck.

"I can do that." he smiled before kissing you.

He started thrusting in and out of you slowly, changing the angle again. You moaned into the kiss, your arms tightening around him. You started rocking your hips in sync with his thrusts, filling you up even more. He let go of your arms and cupped your face, still kissing you. You moved your hands to his neck and tangled your fingers into his hair.

"Oh, my god," you moaned into his mouth. "This feels so good."

"Tell me what you feel," he said between kisses.

"I feel full." you said breathily. "Like your cock is stretching me out." this dirty talk made you giggle.

"Tell me how it feels filling you up." he encouraged.

"I feel like I'm ready to burst," you said, shuddering. "I love it."

He pushed into you deeper and his lips found your collar bone.

"Good," he groaned. "I want you to feel good."

"I do." you breathed. "Oh, my god, I do." your eyes rolled back.

"Are you going to come again?" he asked, changing the speed of his thrusts.

"I don't know." you said. "Don't stop." you hugged him closer.

You felt the muscles in your body tightening and you knew you were about to climax again. He pulled back and looked down at you.

"Stay with me." he said, thrusting harder.

"I can't." you moaned.

He lifted you up, changing the position again. He slid out of you slightly then pushed in hard, hitting you in the right spot.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, arms falling back to your side. "Fuck!" you screamed.

"Good girl," he pulled your face up and kissed you.

You came so hard that your vision went blurry and you felt like passing out again. You could feel him still thrusting into you, trying to keep pace. You bucked against him, your hips constricting as he came inside of you, groaning your name. He put you back down on the bed, his hands still on your body, gently rubbing your skin. You felt like you were on top of the world.

"I love you." you said, turning your head to face him. "So much."

"I love you." he replied, kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit bratty today." you snuggled closer to him.

"Nah, I deserved it." he played with your fingers on his stomach. "And if I didn't, I know why you do it anyway." he shot you a quick glance.

"Oh, really?" you challenged.

"Uh huh. Don't get me wrong, it's hot and all, but babe, if you want me to fuck you hard all you have to do is ask."

"You're unbelievable." you shoved his shoulder and turned around, getting further away from him as possible. "Let's see the next time I behave like that and you don't get anything." you tucked yourself in with a duvet.

"Babe," he called and rolled his body closer to yours, hugging you from behind. "It was a joke. With some truth in it, but you know-"

You turned around just to hit his chest."

"Asshole."

"Princess."

You snuggled into the crook of his neck as he rested his chin on top of your head, your limbs tangled together.

"Prick."

"Babygirl."

"Wanker."

"If you want round three just say that." even though you both laughed, you still hit him with your fist.

"Fucking idiot."

"Love of my life."

You're not sure when exactly did he stop whispering names of endearment in your ear for you fell asleep in his arms to the sound of his voice with a hint of a smile plastered on your face.

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adieutristana · 2 months ago

Text

formalities; mel medarda x fem!reader

i need to write more for mel i love her so bad. ik i said in my hcs she prefers privacy but umm this idea was too good to not write

i'm trying to get to requests, writing block is beating my ass rn

summary; mel’s brought you to a gala to celebrate progress day. try to keep yourself together.

characters included; mel medarda

tags/warnings; dom!mel, sub!reader, public, r wearing a remote-controlled vibrator, humiliation kinda?, dirty talk, praise, porn w plot if you count the gala, edging, mentions of drinking

men and minors dni.

progress day is easily the most eagerly anticipated day for anyone living in piltover. a symbol of how far the city has come, in so many different ways. the city had been built from the ground up, with a few dreamers and innovators starting it all- and it'd only grown from there. piltover is now one of the most recognizable cities around; not only for its culture and bustling society, but also for its technological advancements.

hextech had been an incredible development for piltover, both helping and guiding citizens. not only was it fascinating and new, but it's useful. it can be used to protect a city, to heal its people, and to provide better life. it's already being infused into medicinal practices across the city, being used to better the lives of others. that's all anyone could want for a new technology, really: to help.

but progress day is also a day of endless celebrations. fireworks and light shows are held annually, with large families attending and making new memories each time. countless parties are held: from the youth at the academy to the nobles, politicians and socialites of the upper class. like your girlfriend.

mel is a vision tonight. she always is; but in a floor-length sleeveless gold dress, accentuated with white around the bust and waist, she looks like royalty. eyelids brushed with glitter and glossed lips, a charming smile cast in the direction of every guest who passes by her. she keeps her hand planted firmly on your waist as she takes tentative sips of some kind of punch. something non-alcoholic, just to start the night. it's moments like this that you look at her, and find it hard to believe that she's truly yours.

she'd helped you pick the perfect dress as well- stayed in a dress shop with you for hours as you tried on numerous garments. she knows this dressmaker, and she was able to squeeze you in for a last-minute fitting. mel sat perched on a stool outside of your changing room the entire appointment, tilting her head, pursing her lips, providing her commentary and opinions.

"turn around for me, darling."

"that's a good color on you, but maybe we could take it a little lighter?"

"oh! that's beautiful. of course, the woman wearing the dress is beautiful as well."

it had taken almost the entire evening, but you'd finally settled on a satin dress, also floor-length. the color is one not far off from the color of mel's, but still something that compliments you. even though you're in separate outfits and sporting your own styles, anyone who lays eyes on you can tell that you're together. a power couple of piltover, some might say.

but after you'd done the finishing touches on your hair, mel had snuck behind you. snaking slim arms around your waist, voice deep and smooth in your ear.

"i wanna add a little something else," she murmured, before pulling out a remote-controlled vibrator, one that'd no doubt stimulate both your clit and your walls at the same time. your breath instantly caught in your throat, your eyes blown wide.

"mel, that's-"

"risky? yes," she purrs, her breath brushing the skin of your ear. "but that's all the more fun, isn't it?"

the woman pressed her glossed lips over the pulse point of your neck. sticky, yet warm, and enticing.

"we'll make a game out of it. i have the remote, and i'll control it throughout the night. all you have to do is keep yourself composed. can you do that for me, darling?"

you could only swallow and nod, your skin becoming impossibly heated. the hair on your arms stood on edge while you inched your skirt up to allow your girlfriend to apply the toy, only adding to mel's satisfaction.

✧.*

"miss medarda!"

a businessman approaches the pair of you, champagne glass in hand. he looks a bit flushed already, even though the night has just barely started. piltovans know no limits when it comes to progress day, though.

the woman turns to him, a light smile gracing her features. “mel,” she corrects. “no need for formalities.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. he gives you a small nod in acknowledgment, but this causes mel to tick up the setting, just once. it’s still enough to cause your thighs to clench together and draw a gasp from you- but mel pays you no mind. someone is trying to talk to her, and she needs to be respectful. damn it.

“well, mel, this is a fine event you’ve put together,” he leans on one leg. his voice is more of a drawl than anything. it’s a bit comical how he’s already losing his composure this early into the night, but your girlfriend has grown used to it. after going to this many parties, you see guests of all kinds.

“oh, no. i didn’t organize this,” she chuckles, waving her hand off in a dismissive gesture.

“oh? who did, then?”

“a friend. i’ll give them your compliments.”

she looks over to you for just a split second to make sure that you’re alright. you swallow, nodding slowly, before she turns to the man again as if nothing had happened.

“i’d appreciate that, miss med- mel.”

the councilwoman smiles and gives a soft chuckle at the correction, nodding in approval. that’s it, you can almost hear her say. but the toy is still at a steady pace inside of you, over your clit. stimulating you so thoroughly. if she was paying attention right now, your girlfriend would be able to see that you’re beginning to fall apart at the seams.

once the man finally saunters off, it’s like a switch has been flipped. she turns to you and takes one of the straps of your dress. slim fingers making contact with your shoulders, leaning into you so fucking closely. her hot breath brushes against your ear in an almost condescending manner.

“not even the third highest setting, and you’re already losing your composure,” she huffs. “i thought you had more strength in you.”

you swallow, nodding fervently. though you’re cut off yet again by stronger vibrations against your arching clit. sending electricity up your core and throughout the rest of your body in a manner that almost causes your knees to buckle underneath you.

“i- ah! sorry,” you gasp. “i’m trying, mel, i am…”

“try harder,” she demands. she’s only met with a nod from you, unable to even form words to defend yourself. “you look desperate like this. though, it is a good look on you.”

it seems like praise, but you're not sure exactly what to say to that. she pours another glass of champagne for you before heading to another section of the crowded gala. it'll be about another hour before a firework show begins, and for now, it's all socialization. wealthy businessmen making deals, or maybe trying to swindle those new to the trade? other council members talking amongst themselves, excited to finally get a break from the council building.

beside the aching between your legs, finding things to do isn't hard. mel's amusement when she sees you taken with a chocolate fountain is palpable, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks.

"get as many as you wish," she hums, handing you a few strawberries. "oh- careful with your fingers, dear. careful!" her laughter rings out, such a wonderful sound. it's a break from the sweet torture the woman is subjecting you to, causing you to stumble on your feet and your breath to catch in your throat every so often. she's just getting started, but you're already being driven nearly to delirium.

✧.*

"five, four, three, two, one!”

BOOM!

the crackling of fireworks ring through the air with gasps from guests. an array of colors filling the air as each firework crackles out, and your arm is slung around mel’s waist. her eyes seem to shine in the light with each one casting another color over her face, and it hits you full force just how beautiful mel is.

she’s a vision. a goddess in her own right. divinity in human form, if that's even possible.

"it's beautiful," she's beautiful, you mean to say. but you've already told her that so many times tonight. "this gets better every year, i think."

"mm, you're right," she muses, resting her head on your shoulder. dark curls cascade down your shoulder and back, while she rests her free hand on your hip. champagne can wait. "i think they hired somebody new this year. they're a real artist, whoever they are."

click, and buzz.

"gods damn it, mel-" you stutter. it's now second from highest. pressing even further against your clit, if that's even possible.

BOOM!

"what, is something wrong?"

"n-no, just... ngh," you whimper, barely holding onto that last bit of self-control. any louder, and people will start to notice. both you and mel are perfectly aware of this, but it only seems to make your girlfriend that much more aroused. “fuuuck, that’s…”

the beads of sweat dripping down your forehead do little to help you, and the way you’re squeezing your eyes shut. the fireworks are getting more exciting with each passing minute, but the sounds don’t even reach you at this point. that familiar knot in your lower stomach is strung so damn tight, and you may explode any second.

the toy is stimulating your slick hole so fucking well. pulsing inside of you and brushing against your g-spot with every little movement you make. but you can bear it, you have to-

until mel clicks the vibrator to the highest setting, and you finally let a sharp moan rip from your chest.

luckily, other guests are too enthralled by the show to notice. but mel, oh mel- she’s got her fingers digging into your waist now.

“cum,” she whispers. “cum for me.”

that’s all you need. your orgasm doesn’t wash over you or bubble up, it slams against you like a hard brick and it’s so fucking perfect. your thighs shake and your heart feels as if it’s about to burst from the confines of your chest.

“ah- ungh, fuck!” you whimper, holding onto the councilwoman for dear life. you’re trying so hard to stay upright, but your efforts are fruitless. she has to hold you up before you buckle underneath yourself. “oh… oh, gods…”

“shh, shh. that’s it. you did so good, so good,” mel whispers, peppering soft kisses against your temple. she can hear just how breathless you are, and it just serves to heighten her pleasure. you always sound incredible like this, mel thinks.

her glossed lips leave behind a sticky residue, her voice is soft and smooth as always. “you’re beautiful. i love how you cum for me like that… so good.”

#mel medarda x reader #mel medarda smut #arcane x reader #reader insert #sapphic #arcane x you #lesbian #writing block has me in a chokehold

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rcmclachlan · 5 months ago

Note

okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

#lafd shenanigans #the next 118-217 shadow summit begins with everyone doing a walk of shame into the bar #(except nico‚ who practically skips inside‚ followed by two penguins)#bucktommy #rc's 911 fics #rc's harbor ocs

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zorosangell · 7 months ago

Text

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter one

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

"How much sake can this get me?" you asked in a low voice, slamming down a fistful of berries on the bar.

The entire place went silent at the sight of your wings, the white feathers making you look almost angel-like.

You furled them as the bartender cocked an eyebrow, taking the money, quickly counting it.

"Eh, a cup or two," he stated, a clear smirk on his face as he chuckled under his breath.

You sighed, furrowing your brow.

You unsheathed your mace and placed it on the bar, the dried blood from your last encounter speaking your message clearly.

The man was trembling as his hands went straight in the air, his annoyingly loud whimpering calling the attention of the entire bar.

"I'll ask you again... How much sake can this get me?" you asked, darkly, voice low as your eyes cut him where he stood.

"A bottle, alright! It'll get you a bottle! I'm sorry I tried to scam you! Please don't hurt me!" the man grovelled, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You scoffed, taking your weapon off the counter and sheathing it.

"Just get me the damn drink so I can get out of here," you rolled your eyes.

He frantically nodded his head before turning around, searching the wall full of booze.

"While you're at it... I got a question for you," you started, taking a seat.

The man visibly shivered at your tone.

"I heard this used to be a town where a lot of pirates used to stop. That true?"

"Y-Yeah. It's true. But that was before Captain Morgan made base here. Now, no pirate is daring enough to come anywhere near this village," the bartender nodded, his back to you as he searched the wall for some good sake.

You sighed, "Shame. I've been looking for a certain pirate. Was hoping you could point me in the right direction."

"If you don't mind, might I suggest you ask Roronoa Zoro," the man replied with a smile as he found the bottle, grabbing it and turning around.

'Roronoa Zoro?'

"The pirate hunter?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"He's bound to have heard of the pirate you're looking for. They're keeping him in the marines' prison yard. Usually I wouldn't suggest my clients go breaking into marine property, but you seem strong," the man answered, sliding the bottles.

You grinned, grabbing it and biting off the cork, taking a swig, "Thanks, old man."

"No problem. Sorry for trying to pull a fast one on you," he sheepishly chuckled, waving goodbye.

With that, you got up from your seat, walking out the bar and onto the street.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" you asked a woman that was walking past, "Do you know how to get to the marine base?"

"Just keep walking that way and you should reach it," she smiled, pointing west.

"Thanks," you bowed, allowing your wings to sprout before taking off, the entire marketplace gasping at the sight.

You landed on the ledge of a stone wall that surrounded the prison yard, and saw Zoro bound to a wooden pole

"They really gave you the royal treatment," you chuckled, taking another swig of sake.

He ignored you.

Just then, a boy in a straw hat and a boy with pink hair popped up on both your sides.

"WHO ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE?! AND WHY DO YOU HAVE WINGS?!" the pink one shouted.

"You don't have to shout, kid," you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you rubbed the ear he shouted into.

"I'm sorry, but why are you here?" he apologized, scratching his wrist.

"Yeah! You wanna talk to him or something?" Strawhat asked, turning to you.

"Something like that," you replied, looking away from the two.

"Hey, you three," a deep voice growled from inside the yard.

The three of you looked over to the man of the hour, only to see he had his gaze already locked on you.

"You're an eyesore... Get lost."

"You're not exactly a pretty picture either," you scoffed, taking another swig.

Pink Hair started freaking out, but a girl climbing up a ladder shushed him, looking left and right before lowering a rope, climbing down.

She ran up to Zoro and they began to talk, she holding out something in her hands.

Just then, three guys started to walk over, two being marines and one blonde in a purple suit.

They started talking for a little bit, Blondie eating whatever was in the girl's hands and then spitting it out on the floor, stomping on it.

She started crying.

Blondie looked like he was telling one of his men to do something before a man grabbed her and threw her over the wall.

You quickly jumped in the air and caught her, landing back on the wall.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concerned.

She nodded her head and you sighed as you carefully put her down, Strawhat making his way over to Zoro.

When you got over there, he was feeding Zoro a muddy rice ball.

"What are you two doing?" you asked, cocking a brow at the weird sight.

"He was hungry," Strawhat shrugged.

"Shut up," Zoro spat.

"Whatever. I gotta have a word with you," you started, looking straight at Zoro

"Huh? Talk to me?" the man asked, confused, as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Being out here so long must be making you deaf, too," you rolled your eyes.

"SHUT UP!"

"Here's the deal. I'll untie you if you promise to join my crew," Strawhat chimed, completely interrupting your conversation.

"What?" Zoro cocked a brow.

'Deaf.'

"I run a pirate crew, and I'm looking for people to join up," the boy explained.

"No way! I'd never stoop to joining up with a criminal. Screw that business," Zoro scoffed.

"Says the man in marine custody," you smirked.

"Will you shut it!"

"And what's wrong with being a pirate?" Strawhat asked.

"They're despicable. Like I'd ever want to join up with one," Zoro answered.

"Oh, come on! Gimme a break. Everyone already knows you as some vicious bounty hunter always out for blood," Strawhat smiled.

"People can say whatever they want about me, but I've never done a single thing in my life that I regret. I will make it through this challenge. And after that, I'll accomplish what I want," Zoro smirked, looking you both in the eye.

"Wait, so you were challenged to stay here?" you asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah. So what?" Zoro glared.

"They're gonna execute you."

"Huh?"

"You're the Roronoa Zoro, and challenge or no the marines can't let you go. They'd be a laughing stock," you explained.

"That's great. But I've already decided that you're going to be on my crew," Strawhat smiled, crossing his arms and still interrupting your conversation.

"What?! You can't do that!" Zoro barked.

"I hear you're one of the best swordsmen around," the boy started.

"I am one of the best swordsmen around. But that idiot captain's son took mine away," Zoro stated.

"Guess I'll just have to go get it back for you. So if you want your sword, you're just gonna have to join my crew."

"Now you're really pissing me off!"

Strawhat laughed as he ran off.

"Wait... he's actually gonna bust in there alone?" he asked.

"Looks like it," you called to the boy, pointing behind you with your thumb. "Strawhat! Pretty sure the base is the other way."

"Gum Gum Rocket!" he shouted, stretching his arm and shooting past you.

Zoro's eyes went wide.

"What the hell is this guy?" He asked himself.

"Another devil fruit user," you chimed.

"Another?" Zoro asked, cocking a brow.

"I ate the Angel-Angel Fruit. It's what gave me these angel wings," you clarified, unfurling your wings as proof.

He looked like he was thinking for a moment.

"You said you wanted to talk to me earlier. Why?"

"I need to know if you've seen a pirate. Doflamingo," you started, drawing your mace and looking at the spikes longingly.

You would give your right arm to drive them through Doflamingo's skull.

"Why?"

"He killed people very close to me and I need to bring him to justice. I figured since you are a pirate hunter, you would've seen something," you answered, brushing your fingertips against the sleek, wooden handle.

He paused for a moment, looking like he was taking in all of the information.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"(y/n)," you answered, lifting your gaze from your weapon and onto the swordsman.

His eyes were a deep onyx, full of ambition and drive, and easily able to slice your spirit with a single glare.

You felt a stirring awake in your stomach but suppressed it.

You looked left and right, and saw no marines in sight.

'Just do it.'

You sighed and tucked your mace back into your holster before standing up and untying him from the pole.

"What are you doing? That maniac is going to kill you for what you're doin' right now," Zoro stated, slightly surprised by your sudden decision.

"I'd like to see him try," you stated, still fiddling with the knot.

It was tied really tight.

"But you said you wanted to talk?" He asked.

"Can't talk to a dead man. I'll break you out, then we can talk afterwards," you answered, narrowing your eyes at the knot as you continued to fuss with it.

"How do you know I won't just leave you?" he asked again.

"I don't," you said simply, quickly glancing up him before turning your attention back to the ropes.

"End of the line," a raspy voice growled.

You both turned to see a man with an ax for a hand and a metal jaw approach you with a whole squad of men.

"For the crime of treason against me, I sentence you both to die where you stand."

You and Zoro narrowed your eyes him and you quickly stepped away from Zoro, drawing your mace.

They all drew their weapons and aimed for you.

"You've been pulling some interesting moves around here. What is this? Some kind of poorly executed coup you two planned with the straw hat?" Ax Hand asked.

"I've always fought alone like a real man does. Not like a coward who hides behind his wall of expendable cronies," Zoro spat.

"Roronoa Zoro. Don't you dare underestimate me. You may be a strong fighter, but under my authority, you're just the rat we throw out with the trash," Ax Hand spat back.

"That must make you the trash man," you chuckled, getting into a fighting stance.

Ax Hand furrowed his eyebrows and growled.

"Take aim!" he ordered.

They cocked their guns but you kept a stone-cold face.

"(y/n), get out of here," Zoro demanded, his tone unfaltering.

"Not a chance," you shrugged him off, keeping your eyes on the marines.

Just then, you heard glass shatter.

"Fire!" Ax Hand shouted.

The men fired their guns and you quickly outstretched your arms, getting ready to do your bullet-dodging technique when Strawhat landed right in front of you and Zoro.

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #op x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #zorosangell--protector

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mxtantrights · 1 month ago

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the unauthorized thunderbolts* office story

a/n: I'll always come back to Bucky Barnes. my first morally grey character (even though that's debatable and he was brainwashed, but we're not here to get into specifics) so this takes place post-falcon and winter solider and maybe during thunderbolts? I don't know the movie plot but we're just gonna go with vibes anyways.

Bucky barnes x fem!reader

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine is a very peculiar woman. You didn't mean to meet her but you have a feeling know that she always meant to meet you. It happened by coincidence, or so you thought, when your grocery bag ripped. In an effort to gather up all your items you had left your non-ripped bags at the front curb of the store.

When you finally managed to scoop up the apples and lemons you brought, you came back to find her there. She held onto your bags with a smile on her face. She introduced herself and said she was looking for an assistant.

How your bumbling of groceries has inspired her to offer you a job was beyond you. But you took it all the same. Living in a city like New York isn't cheap.

Valentina of course did her own version of a formal interview. You and her walked around Central Park and she asked what it is you like to do, and why you don't do it.

You told her you liked to dance ballet. But you had to drop out of school in order to get a job that paid for the clothes on your back, the roof over your head and the foo din your belly.

Valentina got you re-enrolled within a week. And then she told you that your salary increases each year by five percent. You couldn't have found a better boss.

Which leads you here, to working at your desk. Trying to put together some files to hand over to the weapons and ballistics department. They had recently submitted their monthly spendings sheet and you were tasked with going over their spendings and eliminating some things for a cost-effective next month.

You're sat at your desk the first time you see him.

He comes in wearing all black. Not in a way that sounds alarms in your head, but in a normal way. In a way that says, I like the color black but not for any reason like robbing a bank or something.

You watch as he walks smoothly over to Valentina's door. No one gets in the building let alone on this floor without her knowing. It made your job a bit easier. Whatever meetings she schedules are up to her and your only job is to man the front desk and phone.

He spares you a glance and even a little smile.

You knew who he was. You knew from his face. Bucky Barnes. The winter soldier. You thought to yourself that he must be turning over a new leaf. Trying to do some good in a world full of crazy and aliens and robots.

He goes into Valentina's office. The two of them talk for almost fifteen minutes. Then he's walking out. And not in a good mood either. You can tell by the sour puss look on his face.

Valentina slowly sauntered out of her office. Clearly in deep thought about something that happened. You asked her if she was okay and if she needed something.

She smiled. From that day on you were not only her assistant but something else entirely. She called you the asset.

THREE MONTHS LATER ...

She had the team almost ready to assemble. You laughed when you first said it out loud. She did too.

She had Yelena, Alexei, Ava and the new one who goes by Bob. They hadn't met yet officially but that was in the works as she said. And you had the grandest task of all.

You had to bring in Bucky to the taskforce. Valentina hadn't come up with a name yet. She had tossed a few out but she struck them down just as quickly.

This was the first job she gave you that didn't require sitting at your desk. You liked it very much. Well almost every part of it. You liked the idea of securing a 'employee' as Valentina called it. But you didn't like the idea of being portrayed as helpless.

But she tacked on a commission fee for this job. So you weren't about to say no.

You stood at the bar with a drink. You wore your best night out outfit. And you got to work. Apparently Bucky had frequented this bar. You had struck out the last three nights when you reconned outside. But you got tired of just doing nothing so you decided to be proactive.

You ordered your favorite drink, the one you know only makes you slightly buzzed, and waited.

Good thing you did because maybe twenty minutes after you got your drink he walked right in. This time instead of all black he work a dark blue jacket along with the black. You thought of it as progress.

He sat at the table nearest to the window. His back to the window. His face a bit tucked away from the other patrons of the bar. You don't know how you managed it but you caught his eye.

It didn't take long before he walked over to where you were sat, at the bar. He slid up next to you and ordered a beer. For three whole minutes he didn't even talk to you. You don't know if he was waiting for you to go first, or if he didn't recognize you.

That was until he spoke up.

"Valentina usually this persistent?" he asked.

You shake your head. Not sure how to respond to that. Because for all intents and purposes she was that persistent. If she really wanted something there was almost nothing on Earth that could stop her.

"The whole reason I have this job is because she took a chance on me. She gave me a second chance at my dream." you said.

He took a swig of his beer.

"You do know that she's not a good person, right?" he asked.

"Doesn't mean that you can't be." you spat out.

He looks at you on the side. You thought you might have said the wrong thing. That you might have put your foot in your mouth and costed Valentina a valuable employee.

But then he did the unthinkable. Bucky Barnes got up from his seat. Slapped a twenty dollar bill down onto the wood of the bar. Then he turned to you.

"Tell Valentina I work on my own terms. If she doesn't like that, she can get lost."

Then he told you goodnight. Bucky Barnes left without another word that night. He didn't even wait for you to say anything. He just upped and left.

You reported back to Valentina ten minutes after he left that you secured the employee.

ONE WEEK LATER...

You're watching them fight each other. From the safety of Valentina's office you watch right along with her as the team delivers kicks and punches and blows.

Hardly a team.

"Good thing I left Barnes out of this group bonding experience." she says.

"Is it really group bonding if they could possibly kill one of their possible teammates?" you ask.

Valentina shrugs her shoulders, "This will help me weed out the weak ones. I won't let it go on for too long. They'll be coming up soon. Do you wanna stay for the meet and greet?"

You shake your head no.

"I've got to head to the dance studio. Auditions for the spring recital." you respond.

"Of course I'll let you land the lead role on your own. But if it doesn't work out I can move a couple of pieces off the chess board." she jokes.

"Thanks boss, have a good day." you saw walking to the door.

Just as you wrap your and around the knob, about to pull the door open, it opens from the other side. You take a step back, thinking it might be the new team coming in.

You are sweetly surprised. It's Bucky.

He makes eye contact with you. And you think, maybe for a second or even half that, he has a small smile on his face. It goes away as soon as it comes but you swear you aren't imagining it.

You nod your head once, "Mr.Barnes."

"Call me Bucky." he says.

He side steps and walks into the room. You walk out. You can hear Valentina welcome him inside, and to the rag tag team.

APPROX. TWO DAYS LATER...

You run inside of the elevator. With no grace and even less poise you drop your duffle bag and take off your sweater. You had to change back into your casual clothes.

You hit the button for the penthouse suite. Valentina's office. You finally peel off your sweater and throw it on the ground. Just as the doors are about to roll close something stops it.

The team. The whole entire team.

Like an idiot you stand there, frozen. Not embarrassed, you're used to changing in front of people. No you aren't embarrassed you're startled.

Alexei is the first one to step into the elevator. Then Yelena and Ava. Then the guy you knew nothing about- even though he introduced himself to you as Bob. Then Bucky. Last one inside the elevator is Walker.

Walker. You hate that man with a passion. Not only did he walk and talk like some smarmy prick, you hated that he was ever given the position of captain America.

Walker comes face to face with you. You stand up straight, meeting him with a glare. The elevator doors roll closed behind him. He smiles.

"Well well well, if it isn't the little ballerina." he snarks.

"Save it, captain lame." you reply.

You can hear the others talking amongst themselves about the scene you and Walker and putting on. They more than anyone probably know how much of a prick he is. You bet you could smack him and none of them would come to his rescue.

"Valentina pay you the big bucks to strip in elevators?" he asks.

You shimmy out of your skirt and place it in the bag. You stand back up to your full height. You roll your shoulders back.

"How's your wife and child, asshole?" you ask back.

You can see him clench his jaw. That hit a nerve. Good. You look him right in the eye as you reach for your blazer. You pull it on. Then you grab your jeans.

"Assistants are replaceable." he says.

You put the jeans on one left at a time over the leggings you still have on. Then you smile. You button the pair of jeans resting on your hips.

"How fast did they replace you? What, like two minutes?" you quip.

There's snickering coming from behind you. You watch as Walker tenses up.

"She's right." Yelena says in her accent.

"I would quit if I were you." Ava adds.

Walker scoffs, "If I tell Valentina-"

You coo, "Are you gonna run and tell mommy that someone called you a bad name. Oh no!"

"Shut up." he says.

"You first." you say, then reach around him to press the next floor's button.

He's about to say something when the elevator doors roll open again. He turns around. There's no one in the hallway waiting for the elevator.

"I'm going to leave this elevator now. But I would love to show you how the new bazooka works. You'd make a great target." you say.

You pick up your duffle bag and walk out of the elevator. Not without taking in the laughter that comes from everyone inside of it. You can hear Walker throwing a fit as the doors close.

Its better you get off than antagonize him any more than you already did. You'd probably break protocol and actually punch him in the throat.

A WEEK AFTER THE FIRST MISSION...

There's a knock on the door. You aren't expecting anyone to come around. So you pick up your black kitten and head to the door. When you look through the peephole you see the one person you weren't expecting to see.

You open the door. It's Yelena.

"Funny running into you here." she says.

You invite her in wordlessly. She closes the door behind her and takes her jacket off.

"I thought you would try to talk to me sooner." you say.

She shrugs her shoulders, "I was a bit busy. But I'm here now. So tell me what's this about?"

You raise your finger to your lips and nod her over to the bathroom. She follows you into the blue tiled room. You turn on the sink and put down your kitten.

"Top secret mission from Fury. Infiltrate and report back." you answer her question.

"So Valentina doesn't know you were a former red-room assassin turned blacklist SHEILD agent?" she asks.

You nod your head, "I got a whole new identity. Fully loaded with details. I'd been working this op for almost a year before she approached me."

"So what happens if she finds out?" Yelena inquires.

"Well she either kills me or asks me to double cross SHEILD. She hasn't said anything yet which can mean either of those things." you reply.

Yelena shakes her head at your answer.

"I'm not going to let her hurt you." she says.

"She won't. If she tries I'll just be extracted." you put in simple words.

She makes a face at that. One that says she doesn't believe in the institution you find yourself employed by. She trusts your instincts, she'd told you as much a couple of years ago while on a mission.

"I promise I will take care of myself." you say.

"Please. Valentina isn't someone to mess with."

TWO WEEKS LATER...

You're walking down the hallway with the file in your hands.

Your file. Okay it's not your file but some of your past information is in it. Specifically information that you don't want or need Valentina finding out about you.

You thought SHEILD had done a better job at this. They were supposed to have cleaned your identity off of online and physical files. But here was a couple of missions you had done years ago with your aliases on them.

You come up on the storage closest for cleaning supplies. So you take a sharp right turn. You open the door and let yourself in. With a soft click you shut he door.

In the very dim lighting of the room you open the file up to make sure. Your eyes scan the words quickly. Sure enough you weren't seeing things or making it up.

Shit.

You toss the manila folder onto the ground. Then you rip the papers inside. In half. Then in fourths. Then in more tiny pieces. You hold the bunches of paper in your hand as you look around the room.

A bottle of bleach and other cleaners sits on a shelf. Good you could use that, but you would need a container. You look around some more.

An old tin bucket in the corner. You run over and grab the bucket. You dump the papers in there and run over to the cleaning liquids. You grab both the bleach and the strongest cleaner. Then you open them up and fill the bucket up.

The smell is strong on your nose. But you keep going. You recap the bottles and put them back. Then you grab the broom that stands against the nearest wall.

You turn it upside down and use the handle to mix the solution.

The door opens.

There in the door way is Bucky. You jaw drops and you stop stirring. You were not expecting him to just walk in here. Maybe the janitor? Or one of the lower level agents Valentina has employed. Not Bucky.

"Saw you leave in a hurry. Is everything okay?"

You gulp.

"Yes. I'm good." you lie.

He cocks his head to the side. His eye drop to the bucket on the floor. Then back up to you.

"Why does it smell like bleach in here?"

"It's a cleaning supply closet."

His face drops and he sports a frown, "I told Valentina that-"

"She doesn't know about this." you cut him off.

"So there is something going on."

"Yes. But I've got it handled."

"Right."

A MONTH LATER...

She found out. Or it's safe to say at this point that she knew for a while and didn't say anything.

It's not like she caught you red handed. No, Valentina is too smart for that. She wanted your defenses down. She wanted you distracted.

So she called you into your regular monthly meeting. It's always the two of you, so when you came in and saw her already seated you weren't suspicious.

It wasn't until five minutes into the meeting when the arms of your chair suddenly tied you down, automatic clamps, when you did panic. You struggled at first, trying to pay the damsel in distress.

But that didn't work. She just sat there and looked at you. She watched as you went through every like you could think of. She accepted none of them.

"What's your goal here?" she asks.

"What?"

"Your goal. Your point. Ya know,"

You shake your head, "Valentina..."

"Were you trying to kill me? or sell information to the highest bidder?"

You're taken a back by her last question. Sell information? Then it hits you. She knows you're an agent,t but she doesn't know if you're still active or who for. Huh.

You're safe, for now.

"It was nothing personal." you answer.

She laughs at that, "Nothing personal? I thought of you as my child."

"That's a bit much, Valentina."

"Okay, yeah. That was a lie. But still. You lied to me."

"Like I said, nothing personal. Just a mission." you look away from her.

"Okay so who hired you? CIA? FBI? Homeland? Or maybe-"

The door opens. You both look to the right. Walking in like he owns the place is Bucky. He comes to a stop when he sees you restrained to the chair.

He takes one look at you then at Valentina.

"What the hell is this?" he asks.

Valentina waves you off, "Field training. Have to keep my assistant safe don't I?"

"That's not your assistant." he says.

You eyes are blown wide. You don't understand what he's doing inside of the office in the first place. But you know for sure he doesn't know who you are.

"Oh? Please do share with the class." Valentina jokes and she stands from her seat.

Bucky takes this chance to walk over to you. You watch as he joins you at your side. He places his hand on your shoulder.

"Former Red Room agent." he answers.

Valentina looks surprised. She looks you up and down, like she just got a great return investment. You feel like a piece of meat. You don't like where this is going.

"Woah. You're saying I've got three of them on my roster? Damn I hit the jackpot." she smiles.

"I'm not on your roster." you speak up.

Valentina tuts, "Well if you wanna walk out of here with your life, you will be."

Crap. This means working as a double agent. No, wait you weren't actually going to help Valentina'. This meant working as a triple agent. More crap.

You nod once. She claps her hands together. Then she fishes a remote out of her blazer pocket.

"Well this has been great, but I have an important meeting to crash elsewhere. Do me a favor and get the hell out of my office would you?" she says.

She clicks a button. The restraints around your arms are released. You feel your wrists and rub the tender skin.

Valentina leaves her office with no other words for your or Bucky. You watch as she closes the door behind her. Then you launch out of your seat.

"What the hell was that?!" you ask.

Bucky stammers for a bit, "That was me saving your life."

"I didn't need saving! You just made things worse!" you shout.

He crosses his arms against his chest. Then he gives you an unbothered look.

"I'm not looking for a thank you, I'm looking for an explanation." he says.

You shake your head, "It's a long story. How'd you even know I was in here?"

"I didn't. Yelena did. I was closest to the office so she asked me to barge in here." he answers.

"I'll give you an explanation off we get out of here." you say.

FOUR HOURS LATER

You and Bucky are sat in the back booth of a bar. He's been nursing a beer bottle for the past hour. You have had three drinks so far. You're not spiraling, not yet.

"So you're an former red room and undercover SHEILD agent trying to dismantle Valentina's operation from the inside except she doesn't know that you're SHIELD." he summarizes.

You nod your head, "That's pretty much it."

"I don't remember you from the red room." his interest seems piqued.

You crack a laugh at that, "If I was in the red room around the time you were I'd be like eighty or something."

He laughs at that. "I'm not that old."

"Oh yeah, what are you like seventy?" you joke.

"I'm actually in the triple digits." he answers bluntly.

Your eyes widen. Yes, because of the ice. You didn't think to count that. But then again you didn't count it when it came to Captain America.

He laughs again, "Your face is priceless."

Grabbing your drink you down it until the glass is empty. Then you set it back down on the table. You take him in once more. He doesn't look like he's in the triple digits. Damn that serum must work wonders.

You think back to the impromptu interrogation in Valentina's office now.

"How'd you know to tell her I was red room?" you ask.

He shrugs his shoulders, "It gets tossed around so much it should be a bowling club at this point."

You howl in laughter at that. The only other person you ever really joke about the red room with is Yelena. And she is funny as it is. But hearing The Winter Solider basically call it a bowling club? Funny as hell.

"Mr.Barnes," you hold out your hand in front of you, "I'd be delighted to join your bowling club."

He smiles softly, and takes your hand in his. His flesh hand. He feels warm and just a little bit rough. Years of working and committing crimes for the state, both states actually. Huh.

Huh.

#marvel x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fic #marvel fic

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