#excited eyebrow waggles

[pucksandpower]

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

[futurewdclandonorris]

you look good on camera, baby, let's go make a film | Lando Norris⁴

“Can you leave your camera alone for five minutes? You play with that thing too much lately.” "Would you rather I play with you instead?"

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: smut

Word count: 9356

Songs that really inspired me: Under The Influence, I Luv This Shit (Remix), Or Nah, Zayn - Sweat

With your feet in Lando's lap, you were laying on his couch watching television, his hand mindlessly massaging your foot. The sun was beginning to set, washing the living room in a golden light, the tv buzzing in the background and your occasional laughter interrupting the silence.

Lando’s touch was soothing, his fingers expertly finding all the right pressure points on your foot, but you didn’t mind that at all. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to spend lazy evenings like this at each other’s place, comfortable in each other's presence without the need for constant conversation.

“Are you seeing this?” you giggled, not tearing your eyes from the screen. Lando didn’t react.

That wasn’t the first time that evening that you said something and he completely ignored you. You shifted slightly, feeling a nudge of irritation prickling at your skin. Lando’s continued silence started grating on your nerves, the one-sided conversation gnawing at the edges of your patience.

“Are you even listening to me?” you nudged him with your foot, turning to face him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, giving your ankle a gentle squeeze and raising his eyebrows in your direction to let you know that he registered you this time.

You scoffed, seeing what was occupying his attention. “Can you leave your camera alone for five minutes? It’s like your third eye, I swear.”

Lando chuckled, but kept scrolling through the pictures. “Sorry. Just reviewing what we took today.”

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself on your elbows. “You play with that thing too much lately.”

“Would you rather I play with you instead?” he raised his eyes, mischievous gleam in them, and smirked.

His fingers traveled up your calf, a heat rushing through you at his suggestive tone and touch causing a familiar swirl of butterflies in your belly. You cleared your throat and sat up properly, moving his hand away.

“Show me what you captured today,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to normalcy. You knew that lingering in those moments would only complicate an already delicate dance happening between the two of you.

Lando's smirk widened at your reaction, his eyes shining with amusement, but leaned closer so you could see the screen better. The photographs flashed across the display – picturesque landscapes, candid shots of people in the streets, and close-ups of intricate details that caught Lando’s keen eye. You felt a sense of awe at the way he could turn the mundane into something breathtaking through his lens.

In one particular photo, a vibrant sunset painted the sky in an array of pinks and oranges, casting a warm glow over a quiet beach. The colors were so vivid, it felt like you could almost hear the waves crashing and feel the salty breeze on your skin.

Lost in the beauty of the photographs, you almost didn't notice Lando's hand inching back toward your leg, his touch light and teasing. You shot him a playful look, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of excitement building in your chest.

"Just focus on the pictures, Lando," you said with a laugh, swatting his hand away playfully. But he only grinned, his gaze flicking between the screen and you, a silent challenge in his eyes.

The next photo caught you both by surprise. More you than him. It was an explicit photo of Lando, wearing nothing but a mischievous smile, his eyes daring and playful. You gasped, turning away in shock at the unexpected image. Lando let out a hearty laugh at your reaction, clearly finding amusement in your flustered state.

“Oh, come on, y/n, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” he teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he looked at you expectantly.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and confusion, unsure of how to respond to the intimate photograph that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Well, yeah, but that was… private,” you managed to choke out, looking anywhere except at him or the screen.

Lando's laughter filled the room, a deep rumble that made your heart race even faster. He shifted closer, his hand resting on your knee as he tried to catch your gaze.

"Don't be shy, y/n. I’m sure you have taken a few risqué photos yourself,” he whispered, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Want to see them?” you side eyed him.

“I mean, if you’re offering—”

“I was joking, you muppet!” you turned to smack him across the chest, but Lando caught your hand before it made contact. His fingers intertwined with yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through you, the playful banter fading into something more charged and raw between you.

“Maybe I do have some photos,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But they're not for everyone to see.”

“What about a sex tape? Would you ever consider making one of those?” he asked, his voice low and eyes darkening. “I mean, since we're on the subject…” he cleared his throat.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken implications. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to process his words, the boundary between friendship and something more blurring with each passing second.

Lando's gaze bore into yours, searching for any hint of your true feelings. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand in a silent caress, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. You could feel the pull of attraction drawing you closer to him, tempting you to cross that line.

But as much as you wanted to explore this newfound tension, you pulled your hand out of his grasp. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I would want that.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and a bit of disappointment. “Why not? It wouldn’t be the first time we explored our boundaries.”

You paused, biting your lip as you considered his words. The thought of sharing something so intimate with him was both thrilling and terrifying. “I just don’t think I would look good, you know…”

“Are you kidding? You know you are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his gaze stirring emotions you had long tried to suppress. The air crackled with anticipation, the weight of unspoken desires hanging between you like a heavy fog.

“I’ve taken pictures of you countless times and in each you look like a work of art,” he continued, his voice gentle caress that seeped into every pore.

“Yeah, but that was different… We were having fun… It wasn’t meant to be serious…”

“Why can’t it be serious?” Lando’s voice was soft, his eyes locked on yours with a vulnerability you had never seen before. The air in the room felt charged with emotions as he reached out to cup your cheek gently. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, awakening a longing you had buried deep within your heart.

You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all you found was unwavering sincerity and a hint of nervousness. In that moment, you realized that perhaps the unstated tension between you was mutual, a silent dance that had been playing out beneath the surface for longer than you had dared to admit.

“I… I never thought about it that way,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering close at the intimacy.

Lando’s thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch sending sparks through you as he drew closer, his gaze flicking back and forth between your eyes and lips. The room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the world outside fading into insignificance as you were lost in each other's gaze. You felt your resistance fading with each pass, as if their attraction was slowly but surely pulling you under.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You know, y/n, I’ve always imagined watching you in a moment like this,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, “capturing your beauty on film in a way that only I can see.”

You shivered as his breath ghosted over your skin, the intensity of the moment leaving you reeling. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Lando’s eyes locked with yours, his tone growing more earnest. “Taking pictures of you, ones that only I get to see, ones that no one else gets to touch or look at without your permission.”

You gulped, your heart pounding with equal parts fear and excitement. This was a line you had never dared to cross before, and yet, Lando's words had a way of making anything seem possible.

Lando smiled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Pictures that capture the essence of you, the real you," he said quietly. "The sides of you that you show only to me."

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter in your chest. This was an intimate proposition, one that made you feel both vulnerable and empowered. "And what would be the point of that?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Lando's gaze held yours, his expression serious yet filled with desire. "The point would be to immortalize you, to capture the essence of who you are in a way that words can never fully express. I want to show you how beautiful you are through my eyes, how every smile, every glance, every moment we share is a masterpiece waiting to be unveiled. And I want a collection of memories that belong only to me, ones that I can look back on and remember the moments that you shared with me."

Your heart raced as you considered his proposal. The idea of Lando capturing your nature in a way that only he could see was both enticing and terrifying. But the thought of being the sole muse for his art, the one person he would hold close in his heart, was a powerful draw.

"I'm not sure I can do that," you replied hesitantly, "but I can try."

Lando's eyes lit up with exhilaration, his smile growing wider. "We'll start with the simplest things, the little quirks that make you unique. Then we'll move on to more intimate moments. I promise to never push you too far or make you uncomfortable. We'll do this together."

You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was a new adventure and you were unsure of what lay ahead. But you were ready to take that leap with Lando by your side.

"Alright, deal," you said with a shy smile. "But promise me that you won't share these photos with anyone. They're for your eyes only."

Lando's eyes softened, his expression turning sincere. "I promise, y/n. We'll do this together, at your pace, and I'll make sure to always respect your boundaries."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. This was a bold move, but you trusted Lando. You knew that he would never do anything to hurt you.

"Alright," you said, feeling a sense of determination. "Let's do this."

Lando leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft and sweet, his lips like clouds. The world around you faded away as you melted into him, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms, lost in a moment that felt like it would never end.

Lando pulled back and his eyes locked with yours. His fingers curled around the hem of your shirt and with a silent permission he pulled it over your head, revealing the vulnerable beauty beneath. Your skin tingled as his gaze traced every inch of you, his camera forgotten as he captured each moment with his eyes. The room seemed to hum with a quiet intensity as he leaned in to press kisses along your collarbone, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

You felt the weight of his wishes pressing against you, a silent plea for more as he whispered words of adoration against your skin. Your doubts and fears melted away in the heat of the moment, leaving only raw passion and longing behind.

As Lando's hands roamed over your body, every touch electric and searing, you realized that this was where you were meant to be. In his arms, exposed and vulnerable yet safe and cherished in a way you had never known before.

The room was filled with the sound of the camera shutter, immortalizing the intimate moments between you, and you surrendered yourself completely to the unknown, knowing Lando is there to guide you. You felt naked under his gaze, as if his lens had stripped away every layer of your clothing and left you uncovered to his unbridled desire. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Lando's hand grazed your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The light from the camera flickered across your face, casting shadows and highlighting the contours of your features. It was surreal, to feel like you were being transformed into a work of art, a masterpiece crafted with love and longing.

He kissed your chest and you reached for his shirt, unfurling the fabric to reveal the body that had been hiding beneath. Lando's muscles rippled as he stretched, hinting at a strength that belied his gentle demeanor. The sight stole your breath, your heart beating faster with each passing moment.

The air grew thick with anticipation, the scent of his skin mingling with the heady emotions that filled the room. You felt yourself being pulled into a world where art and desire intertwined, and knew that the line between reality and fantasy had blurred.

With a deep breath, you met Lando's eyes, trusting him as you had never trusted anyone before. He smiled softly, his gaze filled with warmth and understanding. He held a side of your face, kissing your lips gently, his touch feather-light and tender. You felt a wave of affection wash over you, and you knew that this moment was more than just a passing fancy. This was for real, and you were ready to embrace it.

"I'm ready," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, your eyes locked with his as you gave him permission to continue.

Lando's lips found their way to your neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of your collarbone, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. You felt a shiver of desire course through your body, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for.

"You're mine, you know that?" he murmured, his voice low and throaty, his breath hot against your skin. "You're my muse, my inspiration…”

He guided you to lay on the couch as he spoke, your bare skin glistening in the soft light that filtered through the curtains. Lando's eyes never left your face as he positioned you, adjusting the pillows behind your back to make you comfortable.

He moved to the other side of the room, the camera in his hands. You could see the longing in his eyes, the want to capture every inch of you in his lens. He looked at you again, his gaze lingering on your lips, your eyes, the curve of your neck.

Taking a deep breath, he began to capture you. The first shot was of your face, your eyes wide with anticipation, your lips parted in a gentle smile. The second was of your neck, the delicate arc of your throat revealed, your skin glowing in the orange light. The third was of your chest, your breasts rising and falling with each breath, your skin flushed with craving.

“Perfect,” he whispered and lowered the camera.

He was on top of you now, straddling you, but careful not to put all his weight on you. He used his body to block out the rest of the world, leaving only the two of you in this intimate moment. He leaned down, kissing your lips softly, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip, coaxing it open. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter, exploring the depths of yours, tasting you. His hands were on your waist, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips, your waist, your sides, discovering your body, learning its contours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in between kisses, his voice breathless.

His eyes lingered on you in a way that made you feel exposed, yet safe. He dipped his head and bit the spot where your neck and shoulder connected. You gasped, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. Lando's lips were warm against your skin, his breath sending tremors through your body.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he murmured against your shoulder, taking off the strap of your bra. "You have no idea how much..."

He trailed off, his words stolen by the kiss he pressed against your lips. His hand slid up your side, his fingertips brushing the edge of your bra. You could feel your nipples hardening under the fabric, aching for his touch.

"Lando..." you called, your voice barely audible.

Lando's hand moved to your throat, his fingers gently caressing your skin as he looked up at you. "I want to see you," he said softly, "let me see you."

You nodded, unable to speak as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He continued to bite and kiss the sensitive skin of your neck as he reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. You could feel the need building in him, the need to possess you, to claim you as his own.

Lando's fingers finally released the clasp, and your bra slipped off, leaving you exposed to his gaze. His eyes widened at the sight of your breasts, the hardened nipples standing at attention, begging for his. You could see the want in his eyes, the hunger to devour every inch of you.

He reached for his camera on the table and straightened on his knees above you. He adjusted the focus, making sure to catch every detail of your skin's smoothness, your aroused nipples, and the flush of aspiration on your cheeks.

With the camera in one hand and his free hand on your chest, he leaned in to take a close-up of your nipples, his lips brushing against your skin as he did so. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.

As the camera shutter clicked, he moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers over your stomach, your hips, and down to your thighs. He spread your legs slightly, giving himself a better view of you, a better angle for his camera. He took another photograph, capturing your legs spread, your hips slightly arched, inviting him in.

Then he handed the camera to you. You took it hesitantly, unsure what to do with it. Lando smiled reassuringly at you and placed his hand over yours, guiding your fingers to the shutter button.

“Would you film while I suck on your tits?”

His words made you shiver, making you both nervous and excited. You nodded, taking a deep breath and pressing the button, starting to film the moment you had been waiting for.

His hands traced the valley of your breasts, his fingers lightly brushing over your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing across your skin. You arched into his touch, your hips rising to meet his, your body crying out for more.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, and caught one nipple in his mouth. You moaned softly, your hips bucking forward as he sucked and licked, your body arching towards him. His other hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing your hip, your thigh, your knee.

He alternated between sucking and biting, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. You felt your body respond, your nipples hardening even more under his attention. You moaned, your hand reaching down to grip his hair, pulling him closer.

As he moved to your other nipple, his teeth grazed your skin, leaving a faint mark. You gasped, the sensation sending waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your core clenching in response.

His hands moved to your waist, his fingers gently digging into your skin, gripping you tightly. You could feel his passion, his need for you, the way he wanted to devour you in every way possible.

"Do you like that?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

You moaned softly, your hips bucking forward, your body begging for more. "Yes," you breathed out.

Lando smiled, his eyes gleaming with hunger. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned, his tongue darting out to lick some more.

You moaned quietly, your body quivering with each touch, each lick, each suck, each bite. He moved lower, his hands sliding down your body, his lips tracing the line of your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You could feel his breath against your skin, the anticipation building with each move.

He sat back on his knees, hands hooking on the waistband of your shorts and sliding them down your legs. He raised your left leg up and rested it on his shoulder, kissing the inside of your ankle and making his way up. Your skin was soft and warm under his touch, his lips trailing up your ankle, your calf, your knee.

You were nervous but also aroused by his touch, feeling your yearning building with each kiss and caress, each soft word whispered in your ear. You could feel his arousal, the hardness of his erection pressing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

He gently kissed your inner thigh, his tongue dipping into the soft flesh, causing you to gasp. He pulled back once more, doing the same to your other leg. His attention was now solely on you, and the expectation was almost unbearable. You could hardly breathe as he continued to kiss and caress your legs, building the tension between you. Finally, he reached the apex of your desire, the junction where your legs met, and he dipped his head to his prize.

"Open up for me," he said softly, his eyes locked on your now damp panties.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but then you nodded, spreading your legs wider for him. You could feel his breath on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, and the prediction of what was to come.

His hands gently cupped your hips, guiding his head closer to your arousal. "I want to taste you," he said, almost reverently.

You closed your eyes and shivered, feeling his hot breath against your sensitive skin. He teased you, blowing softly, causing your hips to thrust upward, seeking his touch. He laughed softly and backed away once more.

“Not here. Come,” he said, standing up and extending a hand to help you up.

You took his hand, feeling weak in the chest from the intensity of the moment. You both walked towards the table, the camera still in your hands, documenting every step.

“Lean on the edge,” he instructed, constructing the scene and sank to his knees.

You did as he asked, your hand gripping the edge as he positioned himself between your legs. You could feel his hot breath on your thighs, making you breathe heavily.

"Move your panties to the side," he directed, his voice low and seductive. You obeyed, sliding the damp fabric aside, exposing yourself to him.

Then his tongue darted out, teasing you, licking the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You moaned softly, your hips bucking forward, seeking more of his touch. He laughed softly, his hands gripping your thighs as he continued to tease you, his tongue tracing patterns on your skin. You felt your need building, the anticipation making you wetter, your juices trickling down the inside of your thighs.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice deep.

You nodded, unable to speak. Your entire body was screaming for his touch, for his lips, for his tongue. He leaned in, his tongue dipping into your folds, swirling around your delicate skin and licking up and down with the skill of an expert. You moaned, your body arching into his face, your hips bucking against his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned against your skin, his tongue plunging inside you.

You were lost in the moment, your body trembling with need as he tested your boundaries, exploring every inch of you. With your free hand, you reached down to grip his shoulder, pulling him closer, needing him more than ever before. His hands gripped your hips tightly, steadying you.

"You taste so good. So sweet, so wet," you could feel the heat of his breath against your pussy, the soft rustle of his hair against your thighs.

His tongue continued its tour, flicking against your sensitive flesh, his fingers gently caressing your hips. You could feel the tension building within you, the desire for him to take you over the edge.

But Lando was not in a hurry. He wanted to savor every moment, every touch, every taste. He moved his fingers to your clit, gently stroking it with the tip of his finger, causing you to arch into his touch.

“You like that?” he whispered, his voice hot.

“Y-yes,” you moaned back.

“I’m going to make you cum,”

You gasped, one hand gripping his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, and the other holding the camera, recording every moment.

He moaned, the taste of you driving him wild. He licked and sucked gently, exploring every inch of your folds, his tongue probing deeper, his fingers gently parting you, giving himself better access to your most sensitive spots.

You moaned loudly, your hips bucking forward, your body responding to his touch, your mind lost in the pleasure of his seductive advances. You could feel your arousal building, the tension between your legs growing stronger with each touch, each lick, each suck.

He slid a finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in a slow, steady rhythm. You cried out, your body arching towards him, your hips bucking as he stroked you deeper, his fingers inspecting your inner depths. Your mind was consumed with the sensations, the pleasure building to a crescendo within you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his hair, urging him on.

He smiled around your wet folds, raising his eyes and locking them with yours and not with the camera lens. He added another finger, stretching you just enough to send you over the edge.

You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your hips bucking wildly, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You felt like you were flying and floating and everything was blurry and burning and perfect.

He continued to lick and suck, milking every last drop of pleasure from you, his fingers moving in sync with his mouth, driving you higher and higher with each stroke.

Your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting and breathless, your body trembling with aftershocks and your hands shaking. He continued to hold you, his hand gently caressing your hip. You could feel the moisture seeping from between your legs, staining his fingers.

He pulled back, his face dripping with your juices, and looked up at you with craving in his eyes. You could see the wild animal in him, the hunger for you, the need to have you. You could hardly believe what had just happened. You had never felt such desire, such want, such pleasure before. You felt alive, you felt wild, and you felt so, so loved.

He stood up and guided your hand to the bulge in his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. He thrust forward, his pulse beating wildly against your palm. You could feel the heat of his erection through the material of his sweatpants, and the pulse between your legs again.

"Are you ready for the next part?" he asked, cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

You nodded, gasping for air as his kisses became more fervent. He helped you to stand, your legs still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm, but you couldn't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, taking the camera from you.

“No,” you said, making him raise an eyebrow.

Instead, you took him by the shoulders and swapped places with him so that he was now leaning on the edge of the table. Neither of you could take your eyes off each other as you inched closer, his erection straining against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“I want to give you a good time too,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck, your hand trailing down his chest until you took a palmful of his cock.

His breath hitched, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and head thrown back, eyes closed. You peppered the line of his neck with kisses, dragging your tongue down the curve of his shoulders, before reaching his collarbones. Your fingers teased him, lightly stroking his length and feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Please, baby,” he growled, clutching at the edge of the table and arching his hips towards your hand. “Need you to touch me.”

You couldn’t resist his plea, your hand gripping his erection more firmly, stroking him slowly and watching as his eyes fluttered open, dark and needy. Your other hand traced the outline of his hip, skimming over the waistband of his sweats and glorying in the feel of his hardness beneath your fingers.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he breathed, eyes locked on your fingers as they moved.

You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “Do you want me to take it off?”

"Uh huh," he nodded, his breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

"Words, Lando. I need you to use words," you were demanding, but gentle.

He gulped before responding, sounding breathless. “Yes, please."

You smirked against his chest and began pathing your way down with kisses. You settled on your knees, your fingers dug into the waistband of his sweats.

"Turn the camera on, you will not want to miss a moment of this,” you told him.

You pulled them down slowly, almost irritatingly so just to tease him some more. The whole time you were keeping eye contact, licking your lips and watching him squirm and take deep breaths.

Next were his boxers. You latched your teeth on the edge of the waistband and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled them down. His cock sprang out, hard and throbbing, the head glistening with pre-cum.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he muttered, holding the camera with both hands to steady it as he watched you.

You licked your lips again, staring at his erection and the dark, pulsing head. You reached out and wrapped your fingers around it, pumping it slowly, watching as his hips bucked involuntarily.

“Was that good?” you asked, your voice low and sultry.

He groaned, his eyes never leaving your hand. “God, yes.”

"You're so hard for me," you whispered, kissing the head gently as you watched him squirm. And you knew exactly what to do to make him even harder.

You took him in your hand, your palm wrapping around his length, your fingers stroking him from base to tip. You watched as a drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and you used your thumb to smear it around, slicking him up. Lando moaned loudly, his head dropping back as you continued to stroke him, your hand matching the rhythm of his breaths. You reached into your mouth and began to lick and flick your tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock, his length twitching in response. 

"Mmm, so sweet," you moaned around his shaft, the taste making your saliva flow. You took him deeper into your mouth, sucking him down until the tip hit the back of your throat. He groaned, his hand grabbing your hair and pulling you closer, driving his cock deeper into your mouth.

You pulled back, your teeth scraping over his sensitive head, earning you another growl from him. You teased him with your tongue, swirling it around the delicate tip while pumping his shaft with your hand. His hips bucked, and hand tightened in your hair.

You moaned around him, feeling the power that this simple act of pleasure held over him. He groaned, thrusting his hips forward as you put him back into your mouth, taking him deep until your nose was pressed against his pubic hair, his hand gripping the back of your head, wanting you even deeper. You pulled back, sucking him off with a pop, the sound echoing in the room. His cock twitched, getting harder, more sensitive with every stroke.

“God, you look so pretty sucking my cock,” he growled, his eyes locked on your face as you continued to stroke him and hollow out his thoughts.

You didn't miss a beat, your hand moving in sync with your mouth as you suckled his length, feeling his cock pulse in your hand. You could feel his desire building, feel him reaching for that point of no return. And you wanted to be there when he crossed that line.

“Look at me, baby, look at the camera with your pretty eyes while my cock’s in your mouth,” he commanded, his voice raw and needy.

You lifted your eyes to meet the camera lens, your gaze unwavering as you continued to suck on his cock, your other hand still pumping him rhythmically. You could feel his thighs trembling, his hips bucking, and his grip on your hair stronger.

“That’s it, take my whole cock,” he growled, his voice a mixture of pleasure and dominance. “Look at you, sucking me off like a pro. Such a good girl.”

You took him in deeper, praise giving you a new surge of confidence, your throat stretching to accommodate his girth, and your eyes watering from the sensation. You could feel the veins throbbing under your lips, and the taste of his precum glistening on your tongue.

“Don’t be shy, lick my balls too,” he said, taking his cock out of your mouth.

You eagerly complied, lowering your head towards his balls, kissing, licking and nibbling gently. He moaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter as you took his balls into your mouth, sucking and releasing, creating a soft slurping sound as you did so.

"Oh fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips rocking back and forth in time with your mouth. "Suck on them harder, baby."

You obliged, taking his balls in your mouth and sucking on them deeply while his cock throbbed above you. You could feel him getting closer, his body stiffening and his breathing quickening.

“Mmm... fuck, you’re so good at this,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I’m gonna cum soon. Are you ready for it?”

You knew what he needed, so you went back to work, taking his cock into your mouth once more. You sucked and licked, and your hand stroked him vigorously. Your saliva mixed with his precum, making your mouth slick and warm.

“Oh fuck, right there, that’s it, baby,” he panted, his body shuddering. “You’re going to make me cum so hard.”

You increased your pace, your mouth swallowing him down.

“Are you going to cum on my tits?” You asked, raising your eyes from the camera lens to look into his.

He smirked, "No, I want to see you take it down your throat."

You swallowed hard, nodding as you removed your mouth from his cock and backed away slightly. His cock, glistening with a mix of saliva and pre-cum, stood at attention, twitching softly.

You took it in your hand and rubbed the sensitive head between your fingers, watching your spit glisten on the tip. He moaned softly, his hips bucking as you slowly brought it to your lips. You ran your tongue over the tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum, before taking him into your mouth. You slowly slid down his length, taking him deeper with each swallow.

He let out a low groan, his hand fisting in your hair as you took him further and further. When your nose was pressed against his pubic hair, he let out a strangled cry and thrust his hips forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat. His cum erupted from him, a torrent of hot, salty jets that coated your tongue and filled your throat. You choked back a reflexive gag, your eyes watering with the sensation, but held on, swallowing the thick, ropy liquid until he was spent.

You pulled away, your lips plump and glistening with his cum, and hooked a finger under your chin to wipe away the excess. For a moment, you just looked at him, your eyes locked with his, your chests heaving as you both caught your breaths.

He reached down and wiped away the remaining cum from your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a moment of stillness, a sense of completion and satisfaction in the air.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he panted, his hand still in your hair.

You smiled, your eyes glinting with mischief. "Not done yet," you whispered, reaching up to kiss his lips, the taste of cum still on your tongue.

The two of you shared a long, lingering kiss, sucking on each other’s tongues as passion still simmered between you. His hand moved down to your chest, brushing over your breast, his fingers playing with your nipple.

You broke the kiss, your eyes still locked with his. "Come with me," you purred, a smirk playing on your lips.

You led him to the bed, your movements confident and sultry. He followed you, his eyes never leaving your body, his hunger for you palpable.

“I want to sit on your face, and I want to film it.” you announced, your voice low and seductive. Not even you knew from where this newfound confidence came from, but you let it wash over you, feeling empowered and desirable. And you wanted to explore this side of you further.

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and excitement, clearly not expecting this sudden turn of events.

"Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Absolutely," you replied, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I want to see your face when you're pleasuring me.”

“Wow, look at you. I thought you were camera shy, but here you are directing me around,” he teased, a playful smile spreading across his face.

"Get on the bed, on your back," you instructed, taking off your panties, your voice now firm and commanding. He did as you instructed, spreading out on the bed with a cheeky grin on his face.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling him and positioning yourself above his face. Your hips swayed as you watched him watch you, his eyes never leaving your face. You held the camera in front of you, making sure it was centered on his face and capturing every detail of his expression. You could feel his breath against your most intimate parts, a gentle reminder of what was to come.

“Ready, set…”

Instantly his mouth met your cunt, his tongue darting out to tease your clit before delving inside, tasting your sweetness. You moaned softly, your hips bucking in time with his mouth. He sucked and licked, his hands stroking your thighs, his eyes never leaving the lens. It was like a dance, your movements in sync with his, each touch and stroke building the momentum.

The camera captured it all - your gasping, your moaning, and the way your body arched as his tongue dug deeper. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked on your clit and your legs shook, your whole body trembling as pleasure coursed through you. You could feel him growing more confident with every passing second, his tongue moving in a rhythm that drove you wild.

“Harder,” you demanded, your voice strained with lust. “Fuck me with that tongue.”

He complied, his tongue thrusting in and out of you, his lips sucking and pulling right where you needed the most. Each touch sent shivers through your body, the tension building and the release just around the corner.

“I’m so close, baby,” you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered, the sensation overwhelming. He didn’t, his tongue flicking and probing, his hand going up your waist, now reaching to cup your breasts, his fingers twirling and pinching your nipples.

You gripped at his hair, giving yourself some more balance as you started grinding on his face. He moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Ride my face.” he muffled, one hand falling to your hip and the other slapping your ass, encouraging you further.

You looked at him, breath catching in your throat at the sight. His green eyes filled with such lust and wildness that you wanted to take a picture and carry it in your wallet if it were any appropriate. And that was just enough to send you overboard.

He held your hips firmly as you spasmed over his face, his mouth continuing to devour you. Your moans turned to screams, and he licked and sucked at your sensitive spots, not letting any drop of pleasure from you go to waste. His hands roamed your body until you finally collapsed on top of him, breathless and drained.

You lay there for a moment, camera dropped on the mattress, your cheeks flushed and heart pounding. You looked down at him, his face glistening with your juices and smiled. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with satisfaction and gave you a smirk. Slowly, you climbed off him and he sat up, and you kissed him, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips, his rough beard stubble scraping against your skin.

“I’m ready. I want you now,” you murmured against his mouth.

He smiled, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Get on your hands and knees then,”

You complied way too eagerly, positioning yourself just as he wanted, ass up in the air and back arched. He crawled behind you, his cock hard and ready again. He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a new wave of drive coursing through you.

“Are you dripping for me?” he leaned to whisper in your ear, his breath making you shudder. You moaned in response, the desire too intense.

“Oh yes, you are,” he said for you, running his fingers through your folds.

He slid his cock into you from behind, filling you up in a single, powerful thrust. Your moan turned to a growl as he began to move, his hand gripping your hips tightly. You could feel his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, and the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

“Harder!” you urged, your body begging for me.

Obliging, his thrust became rougher, your skin slapping against his. He filmed as he pounded you, the camera capturing every movement, every expression on your face as you turned to look at him over your shoulder, every bead of sweat that dripped down your skin. His thrusts grew harder and faster, animalistic in their intensity. Your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as he hit you deeper, your body quivering.

“Lando, I’m going to cum,” you panted.

He grunted and took a handful of your hair, and yanked you towards him, making you yelp. Throwing the camera away, he wrapped his now free hand around your throat as he continued to drill into you. You could hear his heavy breaths, feel his heart racing against your back. Your mind was on fire, adrenaline coursing through your veins. With another deep and forceful thrust, he suddenly pushed you off his cock. Then, he laid on the bed.

“Get on top of me,” he ordered.

You wasted no time climbing on top of him, your body trembling with satisfaction, but aching for more. You straddled his hips, both of you watching as you lowered yourself on his thick cock. He groaned as you impaled yourself on him, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer to him. The sensation of being filled again was both intense and pleasurable and you couldn’t help but moan as your body began to move in sync with his.

Your hips undulated, your tits bouncing and jiggling with every thrust. You could feel his eyes on you, the camera back in his hands and the hunger and desire never waning. He let you take control, and you began to move faster, your excitement building with each second. Your body was aching for release, but you held on, savoring the moment. You could hear his breath hitching, his body straining to keep up with you.

Your movements became more erratic, your pace quickening as you neared the edge. The thrusts became deep and hard, your ass slapping against his thighs with each impact. You held onto his shoulders for support, the sensation of his hand gripping your flesh only fueling you more. But in all that ecstasy, you lost your balance and collapsed onto his chest, your hips never ceasing to grind on him.

He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close as you shuddered and trembled in his embrace. “Easy, babe,” he whispered, a smirk evident in his voice.

You moaned into his neck and straightened up again. You began slowly rocking your hips back and forth, sitting fully on his cock.

“That’s right, baby, ride me for a bit,” he whispered, running his hand down your spine.

You smirked and leaned down, placing a kiss on his lips before grinding your hips against him in a slow and sensual rhythm. Your breasts jiggled with each movement, and he followed every sway through the lens.

“Look at you. Aren’t you a goddess, huh?” he said, his green eyes never leaving your body as his fingers continued to roam your skin. Your movements became hypnotic, each gentle rock increased the pressure on his cock, making him groan with pleasure.

“A goddess sitting on her throne.” he propped himself up, trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers digging into your hip. You could feel his cock pulsating against your sensitive spots, reminding you of how much more he wanted.

“Time to show me what you got,” he whispered and laid back on the pillows.

You leaned back on your hands, angling yourself perfectly over him, both of you gazing into each other’s eyes. You gave him a full display of your cunt and slowly started going up and down on his cock, his hand pulling you closer each time you descended onto him. You increased your movements, your tits bouncing wildly with each bump. He matched your energy, propping his hips up to meet yours.

You moaned and grunted, your body trembling with each thrust. His eyes were intently focused on your body, capturing every detail for the camera. He reached up and pinched your sensitive nipples, making you cry out in pleasure.

Lowering his hand, he started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. Your body buckled under his touch, your moans growing louder and your movements becoming erratic. He could feel your walls pulsating around him and he knew that this wasn’t going to last much longer. Throwing the camera away, he wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you onto his chest. You fell without resistance and he took control, fucking into you from below.

“I can feel you getting close,” he said, his voice ragged.

“Uh huh,” you gasped, your voice caught in your throat.

“Not yet, baby,” and in one swift motion, he flipped you over onto your back. Your legs fell apart and he thrust into you with a deep groan. He leaned down, kissing you hard, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting you, consuming you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper, not letting him stop, feeling his cock sliding in and out of you with a slick, wet sound.

His hands wandered over your body, his mouth attached to your breast and fingers teasing your clit. You cried out with every move, your body trembling, your desire reaching its peak. He could feel your juices flowing, slicking his cock, coating your bodies. He thrust into you harder, faster, his eyes locked on yours.

He was dominating you, he was possessing you and you loved every second of it. You loved the way he made you feel, the power he exuded and above all, you loved the pleasure and satisfaction he was giving you.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, eyes blazing.

“I’m so close, Lan,” you moaned and whined, your whole body tightening as you neared your end.

“Hold it,” he groaned, his hips still pistoning into you with a fierce determination.

“I don’t know how much longer I can—”

“I’m going to give you a countdown,” he growled, his breath becoming ragged and hot against your neck.

“Ten,” he whispered, thrusting deeper into your pulsating pussy. Your breath hitched as you waited with bated breath.

“Nine,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hip and pulling you closer.

“Eight,” he growled, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back his own release. You felt the tension building within you, the lust and desire coursing through your veins, making you moan and buck your hips.

“Seven,” he hissed, his mouth closing over yours in a searing kiss as his hips pressed against you. You groaned into his mouth, your hips bucking temporarily out of control as the sensation of his tongue dueling with yours sent shivers down your spine.

“Six,” he moaned, finding your hips again and slamming into you, his rough moans echoing in your ears as he fought to hold back his own climax. You could feel the tension in his body, the desperation that threatened to consume him.

“Five,” he panted, his eyes locked on yours, his hands gripping your ass and pulling you even closer.

“Four,” he breathed, his hips bucking wildly, his cock slamming into you with a fierce intensity.

“Three,” he growled, his passion and desire coursing through his veins, his body shaking with the need to release.

“Two,” he hissed, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing as he held himself back from cumming.

“Almost there,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“Not yet,” he groaned, his hips never faltering in their rhythm. “One more.”

“One more,” you agreed, your body trembling, your pussy pulsating around his cock.

“One. Now, baby. Cum around me,” and then, just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he began to thrust harder, faster, his eyes locked with yours as he pushed you right to the edge.

You threw your head back, your eyes rolling up in sheer bliss of the orgasm taking over. Your muscles tightened around him, milking for every ounce of pleasure he could give. He grew more aggressive, thrusting into you with abandon, your orgasm triggering his own.

“I’m going to cum,” he grunted, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

You reached for the camera, ready to capture the moment forever, but he got a hold of your wrist and pinned it down.

“Leave it,” he gasped, his eyes glazed over.

“I thought you wanted to record this?” you panted, struggling to keep up with his intense pace.

He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. His hand slid into yours and interlocked your fingers together. “I want to remember this through my eyes. I want it to stay only in my mind, forever.”

And with that, he pulled out and spilled all over your stomach. You laid there, panting and spent, his cum drying on your skin and you found yourself in awe of the experience that just happened between the two of you. A rush of adrenaline and pleasure coursed through your veins, making you feel alive and invigorated.

Lando laid beside you, his eyes still glazed over from his intense orgasm. He reached down and wiped the cum off of your stomach, then slowly started stroking your thigh. “Was everything okay?”

You gazed into his eyes and traced your fingers along his jawline. “It was incredible, Lando. I’ve never felt so alive.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” His voice was a gentle purr, and he leaned in to nibble on your earlobe. “Maybe next time we’ll try something different. You know, switch it up and keep things interesting.”

“Next time?” you playfully raised your eyebrow. “Who said there’s going to be a next time?”

Lando chuckled, his hand drifting down to your firm ass, squeezing it lightly. "Oh, there will definitely be a next time. You can't resist me, sweetheart."

You smiled coyly, playing along. “In your dreams, Norris.”

He chuckled at your playful banter, his hand still firmly on your ass. “We’ll see about that, babe.” He leaned in closer, his lips brush against your neck, making you shiver. “But for now, I think it’s time for a little aftercare.”

He rolled off of you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. You sat up, your body still pulsating from the intense sex, and looked at him. He was still panting, his eyes locked onto your body, his arousal still prominent. He pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently caressing your back, his breath warm on your neck.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you whispered, still in awe of the intensity of the experience.

“Do you want to review the footage?” Lando asked, breaking the sweet moment.

“Yeah, we could do that,”

He nodded, breaking the embrace and reaching for the camera. He scrolled through the footage, stopping at the part where you were on top of him.

“Look at that,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “You were incredible.”

He kept scrolling, stopping at the part where he took you from behind. He played it back, and you couldn’t help but watch in amazement.

“Who knew you were so kinky?” you teased, laughing at the sight of your own flexibility.

He grinned, still looking at the footage. “I think I knew all along. But it's nice to see you let loose.”

You glanced at the screen, your cheeks flushing a little at the sight of your body, your moans, and the way you surrendered to him. You felt a wave of pride and satisfaction wash over you, knowing that you had given him a performance that you both could remember forever.

“I had a lot of fun,” you admitted, still laughing.

He handed you the camera, and you scrolled through the footage. You stopped at the part where he was on top of you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt the rush of adrenaline all over again.

“I never knew I could feel this way,” you whispered, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye. “With you.”

He leaned over, wiping away your tear with his thumb, his eyes filled with tenderness and love.

“You can feel any way you want to,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “As long as it’s with me.”

He pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body once again, reminding you of the intense pleasure and connection you had just shared. And he was right - you could feel anything you wanted to, as long as it was with him.

[lev1hei1chou]

A What?

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: You ask for a baby out of nowhere Masterlist Requests open!

"Hey, Satoru, I want a baby."

The man choked on his cereal. Milk splattered across the table, and he coughed, looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. "You what?"

You grinned, loving his reaction. "I want a baby."

Gojo blinked, processing your words. "Like...a human baby? With diapers and all?"

You laughed. "Yes, Satoru, a human baby. Not a cursed spirit baby or a baby goat. A tiny human."

He leaned back in his chair, still stunned. "You can't just drop a bomb like that while I'm eating my Froot Loops, babe. Give a guy some warning."

You shrugged, leaning over to wipe a speck of milk off his cheek. "I thought you could handle anything."

"Yeah, curses and evil sorcerers, sure. But this...this is a whole new level of scary." He ran a hand through his white hair, making it stand up in more directions than usual. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." You sat down across from him, your expression softening. "I think we'd make great parents."

He looked at you, eyes softening. "Of course we would. I mean, look at us. We're awesome."

You snorted. "Modest, as always."

"Hey, it's not arrogance if it's true." He grinned, then grew serious again. "But...a baby? That's a big deal."

"I know. But I want to start a family with you, Satoru."

He was silent for a moment, then his lips curved into a smile. "Okay. Let's do it."

You blinked. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I've always wanted kids. Didn't think about it too much because, you know, job hazards and all. But if you want a baby, then I want a baby. Simple as that."

You laughed, feeling a wave of relief and excitement. "Simple as that, huh?"

"Yep." He stood up, suddenly energized. "Alright, let's make a baby right now."

Your eyes widened. "Satoru, we can't just...it's the middle of the day!"

"Details, details." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world. I can make time for baby-making."

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "How romantic."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I can be romantic. Just you wait."

The next few days were filled with Gojo's attempts at being "romantic." You came home to rose petals scattered all over the living room (which the cat was now batting around), a candlelit dinner (where he nearly set the kitchen on fire), and a bubble bath for two (where he splashed so much water that the bathroom flooded).

"You're really trying, aren't you?" you said, toweling off your hair after the bath fiasco.

He pouted. "I'm trying to set the mood."

You kissed his cheek. "I appreciate it, Satoru. But we don't need all this. Just you and me, together. That's enough."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms. "You're right. As always."

That night, lying in bed, he turned to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "So, about that baby..."

You laughed, swatting his chest. "Okay, okay. Let's do this."

A few weeks later, you found yourself holding a pregnancy test in your hand, heart pounding. Gojo was pacing back and forth in the bathroom, looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered. "It's fine. Whatever it says, it's fine."

You glanced at the test, then at him. "Satoru, you need to calm down."

He stopped pacing and looked at you, taking a deep breath. "Right. Calm. I can do calm."

You held up the test, a smile spreading across your face. "We're having a baby."

For a moment, he just stared at you, then he whooped, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "We're having a baby! I'm gonna be a dad!"

You laughed, holding onto him. "Yes, you are. And you're going to be amazing."

He set you down, his eyes shining. "We're going to be amazing."

Months passed in a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, baby shopping, and Gojo's over-the-top preparations. He baby-proofed the house, even the ceiling, "just in case the baby is super strong and starts climbing walls."

"Satoru, that's ridiculous," you said, watching as he padded the corners of the coffee table with foam.

He looked up at you, serious. "Safety first, babe."

When the day finally came, Gojo was more nervous than you. He held your hand in the delivery room, eyes wide as he watched the process.

"You're doing great," he whispered, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to you.

Hours later, when the baby finally arrived, Gojo stared at the tiny bundle in his arms, tears in his eyes. "Hi there, little one. I'm your dad."

You smiled, exhausted but happy. "And I'm your mom."

He looked at you, his expression full of love and awe. "We did it."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion. "Yeah, we did."

[mariasont]

you should do more aaron hotchner x reader but they get drunk together and they just have a make out session or something 🤫🤫

Strawberry Wine - A.H

a/n: i took this the bimbo reader route because i'm slightly obsessed with them lately so i hope you don't mind <3

thank you so much for requesting xoxo

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him

warnings: kind of suggestive?, flirty hotch, making out, mutual pining

wc: 0.9k

You were vaguely aware of the dizzy sensation taking hold, your steps a little unsteady, cheeks a little more flushed. Penelope's voice, usually so clear, now sound like she was yelling from afar, her excitement over a new cooking show barely registering with you. It all faded into the background as your focus narrowed on one person alone--your boss.

Concentrating on something else was the logical choice, but logic seemed to falter in the face of such distraction. I mean, you had eyes after all.

He looked exceptionally good tonight. Jeans. He was wearing jeans and a zip up. His casual look held an irresistibility about it that you rarely got to appreciate, and now it's all you can dwell on. You could easily blame your preoccupation on a few drinks, but in all honesty, you'd be just as enthralled sober.

Your name was floating through the air, and as you turned, you saw Morgan. His grin was wide, the kind that told you he'd been trying to catch your attention for longer than you'd realized.

His eyebrows lifted, bumping against you with a shoulder as he waggled those same eyebrows. So childish. You knew what he was referring to. He was the first one to catch on to your little crush, but despite his behavior you knew he'd never divulge your secret. 

You nudged him back, not realizing your own strength until you were almost toppling over. You only found your footing when you felt hands on your waist. You leaned back, assuming it was Morgan. You were wrong. 

"You okay?" His voice was soft and low, a soothing sound that tempted you to both lean into him and step back in a fluster.

You glanced around, only to realize that Morgan had disappeared, leaving you with Hotch. You clamped your lips together, fighting the urge to let a stupid smile spread across your face, but the wine's influence made it challenging.

"Yes."

The room spun just a tad more as you tried to focus on Hotch, his usually sharp gaze softened just a bit more tonight. 

He chuckled--a rare, perfect sound that made you tingly all over--and leaned closer. "The wine seems to be doing its job. How many glasses in are we?"

You giggled, but the sound was more like a hiccup. "I should be asking you that," you said with a lopsided smile. "But then again, I guess I mean glasses of scotch, right? You seem like a scotch over wine kind of guy."

"Do I?" His voice was rich and warm. He stepped forward, his eyes briefly flickering to where the rest of the team congregated in Rossi's kitchen. However, they seemed miles away. "You smell good."

His compliment threw you off guard, you blinked, cheeks heating up as you swayed slightly towards him, voice a bubbly stream of words you couldn't control. "You think so? It's actually this new perfume--I got it on sale, can you believe it? And the bottle is just the cutest thing, all pink and pretty."

"I bet." He was smirking. Smirking. You were pretty sure you had stumbled into an alternate reality where Hotch was not just your boss, but someone who was relaxed, almost flirtatious? 

"Here," you said, pointing to the middle of your chest. You were a little breathless, "this is where I spray it."

He gave a low hum, almost inaudible, stepping in until you were toe to toe. You caught the hint of scotch on his breath--just as you had suspected--and it made the room spin a little more. 

His face moved down toward your chest, and you couldn't hardly believe that he couldn't hear your heart pounding against your ribs. 

You inhaled sharply, the valley of your breasts rising to graze against his nose, so lightly that it might have gone unnoticed if not for your intense focus on him. 

"What do you think--?" you started to ask, but as he raised his head, your noses were nearly touching, and the rest of your sentence dissolved.

The realization of how easy it would be to kiss him struck you, tempting and terrifying all at one, and you hesitated, knowing that was one line you shouldn't cross.

But you didn't need to cross it because he obliterated the line with a kiss that thundered against your lips before you could even blink. A smile bloomed against his mouth, and you returned it full force.

It was as if you were tingly from head to toe, like fireworks were exploding all around you, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as if the space between you could vanish entirely. You felt his broad hands sweep and down your spine, your tongues vying for dominance, the rich, smoky taste of that scotch lingering in your mouth, as if you were absorbing its essence through every five senses.

It was as if you were back in high school, making out under the bleachers, hiding from the rest of your classmates. You didn't want it to end, but reality intruded like a dream dispelled.

The click of a camera snapped you back to the present, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, hands on the damning evidence.

Gathered at the window there the team was, Garcia's fingers curled around her phone, its lens aimed squarely at you. Your surprised came out as a high-pitched squeal mingled with their distance laughter and cheers. You pressed your face into the fabric of Hotch's zip up, silently pleading for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

"Next time, we'll opt for the bathroom. Less room for an audience."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[lipstickmarks]

I Could Take You (not in a fight)

—Cassian x fem!reader

Summary: You tease Cassian. The result are as you'd expect.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: smut, p in v, semi public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, hickeys, aftercare, princess treatment, possessive Cass lowkey, mention of voyerism, mention of exhibitionism, mention of Az joining for a threesome, ass slapping (playfully), overstimulation

Cassian was showing off, as per usual. Flexing his biceps, extending his wings, and just all-around showboating. He loved to peacock around you right before he went off to training. And show you the evidence of a grueling session when he came back with sweat, scars, and red welts all over his body.

“Wow, Cassian. You’re soooo big and muscley.” You playfully gushed.

His smirk deepened.

“Gotta stay in tip-top shape for my girl, don’t I?” He tapped the tip of your nose, making you giggle. He made to walk out of your room and just as his large hand reached for the doorknob, you spoke up.

“Yeah but…I think I could take you.”

Cassian stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face you.

The look on his face was priceless. Shock, slight disbelief, bewilderment, and confusion sat atop his perfect features. You willed your own face not to give anything away. Messing with Cassian was just too fun.

The Lord of Bloodshed stalked toward you, stopping until your toes practically touched his. He loomed over you. War general indeed.

Yummy, you thought to yourself.

“Come again, sweetheart?”

Here we go.

“I mean, I train with Feyre and Mor and I do pilates once a week.” You patted your abdomen. “I think I could take you.”

Cassian snorted, his eyes sparking to life with amusement and a bit of mischief. His voice was low and raspy when he said,

“Is that so?”

In an instant, Cassian had you in his arms, winnowing you to the training grounds. It was still blue hour, the sun still slumbering beneath the horizon. No one else had arrived yet, no trace of Azriel or the Valkyries.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to warm up despite the biting cold. You only had on a zip-up jacket over your pajamas and fluffy pink bunny slippers on your feet.

Cassian was muttering animatedly to himself as he dug through his bag.

“Been waiting for this.”

“So exciting.”

“Can finally see me in action!”

Cassian had wrapped his hands up in white bandages that you weren’t 100% sure the intended use of. He had a huge grin on his face as he stepped up to you in the ring and got into a defensive position.

“Okay, baby, go ahead!” He said with a grin.

You looked toward Ramiel in the distance, then back at the inside of the training compound, then back to Cassian.

“Go ahead what?”

Cassian gestured with his raised hands.

“You said you could take me, so go ahead. Make the first move. Promise I’ll go easy on you.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Hm?” You hummed, batting your eyelashes slowly. Your eyes slowly widened and you plastered on an expression of realization on your face. “Oh! I didn’t mean in a fight.”

Cassian’s eyebrows pinched together, the confusion only lasting a few heartbeats as you smiled coyly at him.

His hazel eyes narrowed at you. The growing smirk on his lips had your toes curling inside your fuzzy bunny slippers. He took a purposeful step toward you, every movement intentional. Cassian stepped up to you until you were toe-to-toe, the war general towering over you. 

His large hand came up to cup the side of your face, thumb stroking over the apple of your cheek. A sensitive, chaste move but the dark lust in his eyes told you his thoughts were anything but innocent. 

Cassian leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Do you really want to take all of me, sweetheart? Out here where anyone could see?” He brushed a kiss to the skin just under your ear. “Gwyn?” Another kiss, this time on your jaw. “Azriel?” Cassian’s voice was raspy as he nibbled on your ear, sparks shooting through your body. 

The hitch in your breath was impossible to deny, especially with Cassian’s fae hearing. 

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d love for Azzie to walk in on us and see just how deep you can take me.” Cassian nipped at the skin of your jawline, sucking a deep purple mark there. “Maybe you want to see him pleasuring himself at the sight of us.” A lick and kiss over the new bruise. “Maybe you want him to join us.” 

You gasped and held onto Cassian’s biceps, your knees becoming wobbly beneath you. Tilting your head to the side, you gave Cassian access to explore wherever he wanted. Your throat, your thighs, your back, whatever he wanted. You wouldn’t deny him a damn thing. 

“Cass…” His name came out in a pathetic whimper. 

He responded by pressing a hot, messy kiss to your mouth, all teeth and tongues. Cassian was anything but subtle and he certainly fucked like it. He liked it deep, sloppy, messy, and loud. 

You sucked on his tongue, unable to hide your want for him a moment more. Cassian was so big and his very aura invaded all of your senses. You wanted him to fog up your periphery and fuck you until you couldn’t see, hear, smell, taste, touch anything except him. 

Cassian growled, a primal, purely male growl as he swept you into his arms, your legs locking around his hips as he did. You might have said that last part out loud. 

“Let’s just see if you can take what I give you, sweetheart.” 

~~~

Cassian rutted up into you, his dick sinking into your soft gummy walls as he kept one hand braced behind your head and the other around your waist as he had you up against the wall. Even when he was being rough and untethered, he still ensured you were safe and comfortable. You didn’t feel the cold steel of the compound, just Cassian’s warm toned chest pressed against yours. 

He’d only gotten your shorts shimmied halfway down your thighs before you spread your legs and displayed your already wet pussy for him. Cassian had gone stupid at the sight, his eyes fixated on your core. He ate you hungrily, tongue prodding and sucking at your clit, drawing an orgasm from you before you could even savor the feeling of his tongue inside you. 

He quickly replaced his fingers with his dick, sliding himself out of his pants and stroking himself once, twice, and then gliding seamlessly into you. It was always a delicious stretch, just the right amount of pressure that equated to pleasure. 

Cassian’s hips thrusted against yours, his cock filling you up farther than you thought he could go and then sliding almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in before he slammed into you again. 

“Ah!” You cried out, your face coming down to hide in Cassian’s neck. You bit the skin there to keep yourself from screaming. This close to dawn, people would surely be arriving soon but Cassian showed no intention of stopping, not until his girl was thoroughly satisfied. 

Cassian hissed when your teeth pinched his skin and he sped up his pace as a result. You leaned fully into his weight, and he never once faltered to hold you. So big and so strong. 

“Think I can do deeper, gorgeous?” Cassian murmured in your ear, kissing the top of your chest. “Know you can take it.” 

You nodded, words escaping you. 

“Deeper, Cass.” Your hands slid into his long hair, clutching his silky locks. “I need it deeper!” 

Your pleading must have snapped something inside Cassian, something that drove him absolutely insane. He pulled your body away from the wall and let you slide down just an inch until you were balanced on his strong, toned thighs. His wide hands spread out on your thighs, guiding you to spread out wider for him. At this angle, he was hitting even deeper and brushing up against the spot that made you sing.

Your moans were echoing off the walls of the compound now, nonsensical babbles and Cassian’s name and pleading for more. 

Once he had you balanced on his thighs and snugly up against the wall, one of his hands went to the back of your throat and he pulled you into a deep, searing kiss. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you parted eagerly for him. He swept into your mouth, suckling on your tongue. Then, his free hand went to rubbing circles against your clit. 

That would be your undoing. 

The lethal combination of Cassian’s cock slipping so deep inside you, you could feel him inside your god damned stomach, the heat of his kiss, and the expert precision of his fingers, all building you up to an incredible high. 

“Cass! Fuck!” You screamed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moaned into his neck. “Fuck me so good, babe…” Your release wasn’t far off, your pussy was throbbing, swallowing Cassian whole. He knew it too. He knew your body better than you did, knew all the cues and when you were about to cum. 

Your praise sang to him, spurred him on. Cassian slid out until just the head was barely parting your pussy lips. Then, all at once, he deepened the kiss and slammed back into you. He rocked into you with a mad fervor and your moans were a steady chant in his ear, music to him. Your nails sunk into Cassian’s back, making small indents where his tattoos were. The pleasure grew and grew and grew as Cassian brought you to the edge. 

One last perfect brush of his thumb against your clit and a hard thrust and that tense rope snapped. You were cumming fast and hard. A deep and overwhelming orgasm that quivered and shook you all the way down. Cassian fucked you through it the whole time, chasing his own pleasure.

He wasn’t far off either. It didn’t take more than a few strokes until he started to get sloppy with his movements, his muscles tensing. You were pulled flush against him and with one final thrust, Cassian was cumming inside you, moaning and growling from the satisfaction of filling you up, marking you, claiming you. 

And just because he was a sadistic bastard, he continued to fuck you. You winced from the overwhelming pressure but when you saw where Cass was looking, what had his eyes glazing over, you felt your clit twitch. 

He was watching where you two were still joined– a ring of cum building up where his cock sunk into your core. The sight of it was filthy. Filthy and depraved and so, so messy. Cassian had made a mess of his girl. 

“Fuck…” Cassian murmured. He was transfixed. His movements stilled but he remained inside you. Just watching where he was buried to the hilt inside you. 

Your head sagged once pleasure gave way to exhaustion. At this time, you were usually going back to sleep. You usually woke up early to see Cassian off and then climbed back into bed for a few more hours of sleep. 

You let out a deep contented sigh, your entire body reeling from the high, that deep pleasure only Cassian could draw from you. His arms went slightly limp too but he maintained his hold on you. 

Cassian nudged your cheek with his nose and you giggled, meeting his eyes. 

He helped you down but didn’t let your slipper clad feet touch the floor. He scooped you up into a bridal carry and walked the two of you further into a compound, into a small infirmary room meant for treating accidental (or intentional) wounds. 

Cassian laid you down on the center cot and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You got the sense he was leaving and caught his wrist.

“Where are you going?” you pouted.

“Just going to clean you up, gorgeous.” Cassian tapped the tip of your nose as he had done earlier this morning and turned to dig through a supply kit. He found a cloth and a canteen of water. He pressed the canteen to your lips, urging you to drink. 

You took it from him and gulped the water down greedily while Cass cleaned you up. The sensitivity between your legs made you twitch and he pressed a tiny apology kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Once you were clean, Cassian pulled your shorts back up your legs and sat you up on the cot, not letting you lift a single finger. He wrapped his strong arms around you and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Mmm…” You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “I was being silly, Cass. I could never take you in a fight.” 

A deep laugh made his chest and shoulders rumble. 

“There’s no universe in which you and I would ever be in a fight, sweetheart.” He tucked his hands under your thighs once more and lifted you from the cot, setting you back down on your feet. “But I do have to be ready for anybody who tries to fight me for you, so I have to get on with my training now.” He gave you an apologetic frown and kiss to your nose. 

You pouted playfully and snagged another kiss from him. 

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it, Lord of Bloodshed.” You mockingly saluted, which sent Cass into another roar of laughter. 

Cassian begged to winnow you home but you refused, insisting that you’d taken up enough of his morning, which was only proven by the muffled voices and sounds of people arriving. 

Eventually, your man relented with a promise to come check in on you at lunch.

“I’m not broken, Cass.”  You giggled. “Although, you did nearly split me in half.” 

Cassian’s eyes darkened and he leaned down to nip your bottom lip, causing you to squeal. 

“You were right, sweetheart. You can take me. You can take everything I give you. It’s why you’re so perfect for me.”

You giggled at his words and ran a hand down his chest before you headed for the door of the infirmary. 

“That, and this.” He murmured, before you felt the subtle sting of a hand smacking your ass. 

You whirled around, eyes wide and cheeks red and saw Cassian smirking, big hulking biceps crossed over his chiseled chest. Before you could retort, he winnowed away in a flash of red, leaving only his scent and phantom touch behind. 

Oh, you were so getting him back at lunch.

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Eight - Reveal

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Your body is starting to change, and your moods are changing even quicker! You and Jessie experience a first and you learn the sex of your baby.

Warnings: Some language. Some nudity (?), intimate touching.

A/N: I've had a few requests to have poor Jessie coping with Reader's mood swings. Enjoy! lol. Rest of the series is here.

"Finally," you said as Jessie came through the door with a package under her arm.

"What is it anyway?" She asked as she handed the box over to you and you placed it on the table to open it. She watched as you pulled out an item and held it up against yourself, turning to her.

"What do you think?" You asked with a knowing smile that shifted into a smirk. Jessie's eyes drifted to the bra you were showcasing and a goofy grin crossed her face.

"Well I think you'll need to actually try it on for me," she said flirtatiously as she came up to you, placing her hands on your growing stomach as she leaned in for a kiss.

She smiled brightly just at the touch. You were very close to 20 weeks along and your belly had swelled notably over the past few weeks. Unless if you were wearing a large sweater or jacket, it was no longer a secret that you were expecting and Jessie adored it.

Anytime you were out together she was on top of the world as she stood next to you, arm around your waist and proud as can be. She couldn't help but beam when someone referred to either of you as moms-to-be.

"I figured you'd say something like that," you responded as you pulled back and gave her a fleeting peck on the cheek as you retreated to the bedroom. Jessie trailed after you eagerly.

"I bought two new bras for now," you explained. "I'll see how comfortable they are and if I like them I'll buy more."

"Okay," she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and practically swung her feet as you drew your top over your head. You tossed it at her playfully as she caught it with a waggle of her eyebrows.

She grinned as you stood before her and unclasped your bra, your breasts falling freely as you removed it. She bit back a chuckle at the sigh of relief you released.

"God," you breathed in complaint, cupping one of your breasts with your hand. "I should've got these two weeks ago. Can't believe how much my boobs have grown."

"I know," Jessie said in an entirely different tone, her gaze transfixed on your breasts.

She held back a bashful smirk as you shot her a look while you started to put on one of the new bras. When clasped, you studied yourself momentarily. You huffed.

"God. I'm going to need a new size in another few weeks at this rate," you complained further. Jessie stood up and approached, hands out as she gently grasped your breasts, feeling them mindfully while in appreciation.

Jessie was solely focused on your breasts until you snapped your fingers in front of her face with a laugh.

"Focus," you joked. "What do you think?"

"Glorious," Jessie said simply. You rolled your eyes affectionately as you tried on the other bra.

"Is there one you like better?" You asked. She had yet to draw her eyes away from your cleavage.

"I like them both," she said with a wide smile.

"You don't say," you teased with another eye roll. "By the way, these past few weeks have been the absolute most excited you've ever been to help me shop for clothes." Jessie felt her face heat up with a light blush, but she shrugged it off.

"What can I say? You look absolutely gorgeous." And she meant it.

"Ugh," you dismissed as you turned and studied yourself in the mirror with a borderline rueful smirk. "I thought the weight I put on in first year uni was tough." You sighed as you honed in on the faintest marks on your breasts and on your abdomen. "And I'm getting stretch marks," you whined.

"Babe," Jessie said as she stepped in front of you and placed her hands lovingly on your stomach. "That is totally normal. You're beautiful." She saw that you weren't entirely convinced and she went on. "You're beautiful," she repeated, "but I know it bothers you. So, let me put cream on for you."

"I can do it myself," you pouted as you turned away and grabbed the lotion off of the dresser. You pumped some into your hands and walked away from her as you applied it.

"Babe, don't be stubborn. Let me help," she insisted as she followed after you with a frown.

"I'm fine," you told her, keeping your back to her.

Jessie held back a sigh. She knew to expect mood swings, but you'd always been quite chill and outside of the few that happened in your first trimester, predominantly when you were dealing with morning sickness, you'd been pretty much yourself through the pregnancy. However, it couldn't always be that way.

"Baby. I would like to help you," she said patiently. You made a minor noise of acknowledgement, but grabbed your shirt off the bed and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you without so much as a look her way.

She stood there alone in the bedroom and finally let out her sigh of frustration as she stared at the closed door unsure of what to do. After several moments of indecision she eventually chose to give you your space and sulked out to the kitchen. She stood there looking around and contemplating her options before opening the fridge and started to prepare a snack for you. Maybe some food would be a sufficient peace offering. Not that she was sure what she was trying to make up for.

She was still prepping the small charcuterie board of sorts when she heard you emerge from the bedroom. She looked over to you as you walked out. You were fully dressed again, but Jessie was met with the cold shoulder again. A quiet huff escaped her as she refocused on cutting up some veggies.

A few moments passed and she heard you settling in on the couch. She discretely peered over her shoulder to see you curled up on your phone. From your body language though, she could tell you were still upset.

She looked over the board before she gave a self-affirming nod and picked it up, carrying it over to you. She set it down on the table in front of you and stood there wordlessly for a few seconds watching you purposefully ignore it and her.

"I'm not hungry," you eventually said, tone flat and your eyes didn't rise from your phone.

"Well. I'll leave it there for you for when you are," Jessie said, trying to stamp out the bubbling disappointment and frustration. She watched you intently, noting the way you exhaled through your nose and settled further in, your shoulders rising up as you pulled your limbs in tighter and still avoiding eye contact.

She exhaled in the same way and turned on her heel and retreated to the bedroom, grabbing her laptop on the way. She sat cross-legged on the bed and perused her emails, read the news; anything really to busy herself.

Her eyes lifted from the screen as she heard the faint sound of you biting into a carrot or celery. She smiled faintly and picked up her phone to type out a message to you.

"I need you to know that you are truly more and more beautiful to me every day. Every part of you, too. I know it's hard for you and you may feel insecure about some things, but you are the most gorgeous woman to me. Every change in your curves, every stretch mark is beautiful to me and knowing that it's because our baby is growing each day and you're carrying them so incredibly makes it mean that much more to me."

She sent it and looked expectantly at the open doorway. The sounds of you eating stilled and she checked her phone. She saw you'd read the message and she awaited your response. The moments passed; more moments passed - nothing.

"Getting left on read by my own fiancée," Jessie muttered under her breath with a sigh as she propped her chin into her palm while she mindlessly scrolled on her laptop.

Several minutes later, her phone lit up and buzzed. She readily picked it up.

"Yet you don't want to be with me."

Jessie narrowed her eyes at the message in confusion. She shook her head and sat up straight.

"What? What are you talking about?" She said loud enough for you to hear.

Silence. She sighed, harsher this time, her patience wearing thin. She was about to speak up again when she saw the bubbles appear in your chat. She breathed quietly, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Well what are you even doing? You obviously don't want to spend time with me. And you're on a plane first thing tomorrow morning. So."

A frustrated huff escaped Jessie as she pushed herself up off the bed and strode towards the door. She slowed and took a steadying breath to get a hold of herself as she reached the doorway.

She rounded it and was about to speak when she laid eyes on you to see you sitting there, your eyes uncharacteristically teary. The irritation she'd been feeling a moment before was fully replaced by confusion and concern.

"Babe, what's going on?" She asked as she approached. "Of course I want to spend time with you. I didn't think you wanted to spend time with me. You walked away and closed the door on me. I thought you wanted space." You sniffled as she took up a spot next to you on the couch, facing you and resting a hand on your leg. You recoiled subtly and Jessie couldn't help but frown and huff. "See?" She said in accusation.

You shot her a look, eyes red and watery. "Why wouldn't I want to spend time with you? You're the most important person in my life."

"I-" Jessie stuttered and stalled, unsure how to proceed appropriately. She was always very careful with her words and unpredictable situations like this weren't ones she thrived in. While she contemplated how to respond, you wiped at a stray tear.

"No wonder you want to leave," you said, eyes still set forward and away from Jessie.

Her face screwed up. "What? No. I don't."

"Sure."

Jessie narrowed her eyes at you, entirely perplexed. She sighed audibly.

"I never enjoy leaving you to begin with. But I can't stand it now. I hate leaving for days at a time and missing moments with you and our little one. I love you more than anything. But knowing I have to go...," she trailed off, her gaze drifting down as she found her words. She looked back up at you, encouraged by how you watched her from the corner of your eye.

"Travel used to just be me going through the motions, here one day, there another, it was what it was. Now, since I met you, I miss you so much every time and I'm always so thrilled at the prospect of coming home to you. Nothing feels as good as being in your arms again after I've been away." She watched you helplessly and spoke imploringly. "Please believe me."

"God. I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me," you sniffled as you finally fully looked at her, eyes so sad and her heart swelling immediately at the sight.

She smirked and kissed your cheek, feeling it was safe to do so again. She smiled fully when you didn't pull away and instead leaned into her. She kissed the top of your head as she wrapped her arms around you and chuckled softly.

"Nothing's wrong with you - you're pregnant."

Your body jostled lightly against her as you snickered. You brought a hand up to your stomach and rubbed idly. "I really am, I guess."

Jessie kissed the top of your head again with a smile. "You still mad at me?"

"No. I'm sorry," you said as you cuddled in further. "Thanks for putting up with me. And for the snacks."

She gave you a squeeze. "Don't apologize. This is my end of the deal. it's the very least I can do."

"I appreciate it one way or another," you said as you rest against her.

You sat quietly together for a few moments before you jolted up. "Oh shit."

Cold panic went through Jessie seeing how your hands were on your stomach and you stared down wide-eyed at your bump. She did her best to remain stoic and she reached a hand out to gently rest on yours.

"What's wrong?"

"I-" You started, but stalled. You were quiet for a second before grasping Jessie's hand and pressing it against the underside of your stomach. She held her hand there motionless, eyes shifting from your bump to your face and back again as she waited silently and on the edge of her seat. Your eyes were set on the floor as if you were deep in thought.

Eventually, you let out a small sigh. "I swear I felt a fluttering of some kind. Or a couple of tiny, gentle taps." You sighed once more. "I-"

Suddenly, Jessie felt the faintest sensations under her fingers. They were over nearly as soon as they started, but they were there.

She looked up at you, eyes wide in shock, your expression now one of excitement as you looked back at her.

"Oh my God," Jessie said in wonder as she adjusted her hand slightly, hoping to feel it again, leaning in and looking as though that would make a difference.

You laughed lightly, and that was all she could feel. She frowned at you. "Stay still. I want to feel it again."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said teasingly in exaggeration though you did pause your movements once more.

Jessie remained entirely focused on your stomach, every now and then very purposefully and slowly moving a hand around to try to perhaps feel the sensation somewhere else. She eventually tried talking.

"Hi little one. It's me - your mom," she said softly as she thumbed the swell of your stomach gently. "Do you want to move again for me?" Nothing. A tiny frown formed on her face, but she continued. "I'm really excited to see you at our ultrasound appointment next week. I have your picture up in my locker, you know. I can't wait to get a new one. I love you so much already. My whole locker is going to be pictures of you." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye with a smirk, "and Momma."

Jessie felt around for another minute or two, but to no avail. She huffed and sat back up.

Though she could feel the disappointment weighing on her, her eyebrows bunched together, she relaxed when she finally looked up to see you smiling at her.

"I think they were just telling us they're happy we made up. They don't like when we bicker," you told her. Jessie cocked a smirk and rest a hand against your stomach once more.

"Well, now I want to bicker and make-up again so I can feel them again." Your hand came to rest over hers and Jessie thumbed the back of your hand. "I think they don't like it when I make you cry. Rightfully so."

"Well hopefully they know I was being marginally irrational," you joked. "They'll make themselves known again soon. I'm sure," you told her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "And when they're kicking up a storm in the future and bruising my insides, I'm going to blame you for encouraging them."

----------

The following week, Jessie sat with you again at Dr. Mal's office for the anatomy scan. She gave you a small smile as you lay reclined on the table and the ultrasound tech applied the gel to your swollen abdomen.

Jessie lifted your hand and gave you a kiss on your knuckles before clasping your hand in both of hers. This appointment felt so different than the first ultrasound. While she'd been so nervous the first time around, and it would be a lie to say she wasn't nervous now, this time she felt more excited than anything.

She subconsciously held her breath as the technician brought the probe to your stomach and started scanning. Your hand tightened around Jessie's as images started to form on the screen.

"There's your baby," the technician said as the visuals became more defined.

Jessie beamed, eyes fixed to the screen and only pulling away when she saw your head flick towards her with a glowing smile of your own. She squeezed your hand.

While in the first scan, your baby was merely a small shape, now, your baby was unmistakable. She belatedly realized she was tearing up already just at the image before you.

"I'm going to take a number of images and scans here, and then Dr. Mal will come in after she's reviewed and she'll talk through everything with you. And we'll share all of this with your midwife's office, okay?" The technician reminded you; you both nodded, distracted with the images on the screen instead.

When the technician finished, it was just Jessie and you in the room as you got changed and awaited the results. Jessie beamed as you placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her deeply, a bright smile on your face when you pulled back.

"It all looked good, right? Like, there would've been some obvious signs if something was wrong, right?" You asked as you sat down with her.

Jessie nodded. She didn't really know, though she'd done her best to try to do some research, but she didn't really know what she was looking for.

"Everything seemed fine and the technician didn't let on if anything was concerning, but," Jessie slowed, "if anything were wrong, we'll take things one step at a time and we'll get through it together."

It felt like ages before Dr. Mal entered the room. Jessie let out a breath she'd inadvertently been holding upon seeing her enter with a smile.

After some initial greetings and a general check-in, she finally broached the scans.

"I'm sure you're just wanting to talk about the scans, right?" She asked with a knowing smile. Jessie blushed lightly, but nodded and you answered "Yes." She laughed and nodded. "I figured as much. That's what every parent wants."

She pulled up the scans on a monitor and began walking you both through everything. The placenta's position, the amount of amniotic fluid, how the baby's major organs and structures were developing. Jessie felt relief wash over her as everything was relayed as either satisfactory or even good.

"And although these are simply estimates, based on your baby's gestational age, your baby is developing very well. In fact, they appear to be slightly above the 50th percentile in terms of their size - closer to 65, actually. So, momma, you're doing a great job of nurturing your baby and, mom, you're doing a great job of taking care of her and making sure she has everything she needs. This doesn't necessarily mean your baby will be bigger at birth, but it can be an indicator."

Jessie felt your eyes on her and she inadvertently began to blush.

"And, it says here that you wanted to know the baby's sex. Is that right?"

Jessie nodded rapidly and you affirmed.

While Jessie, of all people, knew that the sex assigned at birth wasn't going to dictate how your child lived their life or who they would grow up to be, you both agreed that you still wanted to know. Neither of you were overly into gender norms, so regardless of what was revealed, it wasn't going to be a blue or pink path forward, you simply were curious and it could help inform some aspects of their arrival.

"Okay. Well, you are going to be the very proud mommas of..."

You both tightened your grip on one another's hand.

"...a baby girl."

A/N: Next chapter will be J and R going on a baby moon up to Canada. Drive-by visit with the Flemings included!

[stariikis]

tell my fortune

synopsis ; the story of how you manage to get an attractive waiter's number... in the most unexpected way possible.

pairing ; waiter!nishimura riki x customer!reader genre ; fluff, first encounters wc ; 1100 notes ; to indulge MYSELF, riki will be aged down in this fic. like 16 years old.

When your friend recommended a Chinese restaurant to visit, you were expecting the reason to be exceptional food. Pretty foolish of you, one reason being, you were in Korea – another being, when has Yoo Jungyeong ever suggested visiting somewhere, if not to ogle at attractive boys impossible to pull?

The first thing you notice as she holds open the door for you to step inside is the fact that it’s a pretty modern, fancy restaurant, not typical of a traditional Chinese food chain. What are you expecting though, in Korea of all places? Along the city streets, everything screams modern. 

The second thing you notice when a waiter that has her making heart eyes – gross – leads you to a seat, is how young the waitresses and waiters seem. Some seem shy of eighteen, while some look like plain teenagers coming to earn a little extra pocket money during the holidays. You don’t judge them though; you’d do that too if you had the luxury of time. 

Today’s an exception from having your nose stuck in piles of homework and assigned reading. After all, within the first week of the holidays you finished almost everything, so you’re free to take a break when you wish. Another reason being, you wanted to catch up with Jungyeong. 

But not like this, her eyes shining as she gazes dreamily at a guy whose uniform nametag states, ‘Sim Jaeyun’. 

“Will you stop staring?” You hide behind the menus to save yourself the embarrassment. “I think they’re noticing.” 

“Fine,” she huffs, but the glaze over her eyes doesn’t dissipate. “He’s really cute, though.” 

“Did you bring me here to have a good meal or to stare at delusion three thousand?” You snap, shoving her copy of the menu towards her. She finally rolls her eyes and flips open the menu. 

She points to a steamed fish dish, “This. This is good.” 

And after she recommends practically the whole menu to you, she looks at you expectantly, pressuring you into making a quick decision. You blink, because it all looks pretty appetising to you, and decide on the first fish dish she showed you. Anyway, you’re too indecisive. If you don’t pick now, you might stay the whole night. 

Since Jungyeong has returned to conjuring up fantasies of the waiter Sim Jaeyun across the room, you raise your hand and grab the attention of a young waiter, who seems the same age as you. He appears nervous as he approaches you with a notepad and pen. Is this his first time working here? 

“What can I get you?” He grins awkwardly, and you have to admit. He looks pretty cute trying to maintain professionalism though he looks like he’s crumbling internally. Smiling kindly, you guide him through your order as gently as you can. As you read out your order, he seems to relax progressively, nodding along. 

Just as he’s about to run off to convey your order to the cooks, he bows and thanks you sincerely. For some reason, your stomach flips in excitement at this, lingering tingles in your chest as he darts off. 

Nishimura Riki, read the nametag. He’s Japanese working at a Chinese restaurant in Korea. 

“So,” Jungyeong waggles her finger in front of your face teasingly. “He’s cute, huh?” She drawls, obviously trying to prove her point. 

You don’t buy it. “He is cute,” — you admit, and your friend raises her eyebrows — “but I’m not going to daydream about him the whole time I’m here. Unlike a certain someone…” You reach out to flick her arm amiably. 

Ironically, even though you say this, as Jungyeong starts to ramble about her life recently, your line of vision inevitably travels to the back of the restaurant, where Jaeyun and Riki are chatting. They seem to be quite close, as Jaeyun pats Riki’s back and laughs. Against your will, you’re interested in the way they interact with each other. Scratch that, you’re interested in the way Riki looks when he’s smiling. 

Out of the blue, the young waiter glances up and meets your gaze, just as Jungyeong starts to catch on that you’re not paying attention. 

“Dude, what a hypocrite,” she scoffs, but you ignore her. Riki quirks an eyebrow at you playfully, as if asking you why you’re casually staring at him. You don’t know why but your heart skips a beat. 

For the next five minutes, all you can focus on is the way your cheeks are overwhelmingly warm and probably look a fiery shade of red. 

Even when your food arrives, you feel sick to your stomach and can only bear to have a few bites before clocking out. Jungyeong looks at you, half worried and half with a tilt of the head that asks, is she going crazy? 

Eventually, you have to ask for a takeout container because your friend clearly can’t finish the whole dish by herself. 

You just think that you need to get out of there as soon as possible, so when Riki himself runs over, handing you both a fortune cookie wrapped in plastic, it comes as a shock. His fingers linger over the snack as he passes it to you, and you swear he’s gazing into the depths of your soul. 

Oooookay, this is uncomfortable. Does he want me to open it in front of his face or… is he being creepy? Or — this is where you panic — is he telling me he was also uncomfortable when I was staring at him? Should I apologise? Do I say something? What does he want from me?

Luckily for the overthinker emerging from you, he makes an unwrapping gesture and smiles silently, as if affectiona– okay, that’s too much.

You take the cracker out the wrapper, and snap it in half as quick as you can. Anything to get you out of this awkward situation. 

A glance over the table shows that Jungyeong has opened hers already, and nothing seems to be out of the blue. So what is Riki trying to get at? 

When you tug the slip of paper from the cracker, you don’t know if you go completely pale or grow even redder. 

A phone number in black pen ink has been written over the paper in an evidently rushed manner. 

You look up at the young waiter, who just shrugs and giggles at how clueless you look. How… did he… huh…? 

As you leave the restaurant in a hurry (mostly because Jungyeong is borderline screaming on your behalf), you swear you catch Jaeyun giving Riki a thumbs up in the corner of your eye.

more of my works >

guys i'm back after like a month of an unofficial hiatus. sorry to leave yall hanging like that! i'll get back to regular updates soon, i promise lawl. hope you didn't forget the plot of yitr...

BTW THX FOR 300

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Cycling through the love languages

G/N. Self-indulgent af. Goo has a realisation about you.

Goo knows for a fact you like him.

Who wouldn't? Who doesn't?

Maybe Gun and Charles Choi actually, and he knows he pisses Kouji and Crystal off something bad. The majority of the crews too. And that sour faced woman from the cafe this morning. There was also the guy who yelled obscenities and flipped him off for driving erratically.

Ah whatever. He casts aside his growing list of enemies with a wave of the wrist and an adjustment of his glasses.

Point is, you like him. You. The only one that matters.

Why you can't admit it to yourself or to him, he can't understand.

...Nevermind the fact that it's only recently that he has admitted to himself that he likes you. After one too many knowing looks from Kouji, and then another too many drinks the other night when Gun remained stone faced and Crystal couldn't stop rolling her eyes as Goo started gushing. Tongue loosening and desires spoken and spilling over into reality.

The realisation wasn't so much a shock to the system, as a comforting hug. Like yes, finally. 

His weird little daydreams, his growing apathy towards fighting and work, or really anything that excludes you. The way you said you liked his suit the other month and he walked with a spring in his step all morning and afternoon and evening and night, and has worn that suit damn nearly every day since.

It all makes sense.

So yes. Fine. He likes you. A lot. 

Sometimes the thought of seeing you makes him feel giddy with excitement. Other times the thought of replacing his first love, good old dependable cash, with you makes him feel sick and he breaks out into a cold sweat.

Here’s the thing though: Goo likes calculated risk. He likes the thrill of the chase.

He-

Likes-

You.

And if you want him to be the one that chases and pursues you then ok. He will. Challenge accepted.

.

.

Let's do this the easy way. Flirting.

It might have been more successful if he wasn't so flirty and playful anyway. Curse him and his charismatic ways.

(Or so he tells himself.)

You don't find him too different from usual, all things considered. Maybe more of a nuisance, buzzing around you like an errant fly.  His smile is greasier, words honey sweet. He leers at you. Waggles his eyebrows like you're in on a joke together.

Dear heavens, you think he also winks at you too. When you frown at that, he just clicks his tongue in annoyance and says there's something in his eye.

You think that's a lie. In fact, you know it is. His eye is completely fine but he is moody and pouty for hours after.

.

.

No, the wink didn't work. The flirting can't really be counted as a success. Nevertheless, his flirting doesn't stop at syrupy words, Goo is touchier too.

He's a touchy person by nature, especially in the right situation and with the right person. Whatever is needed to twist a situation to his advantage. A chin rested on your shoulder, casual arm thrown around your waist. A playful shove, footsie under the table that is more rough and malicious, aiming to hurt, than cute and teasing.

But he's close, closer than ever. Banter muttered into your ear, breath prickling your skin.

Every moment is just a new opportunity to touch you. Your hand, your shoulder, hip, lower back.

You never minded before, you gotten used to his touches surprisingly quickly except now-

The caresses and contact poorly hide a yearning. There's a different intent. It's purposeful and calculated. This doesn't escape your notice.

Goo also doesn't miss the heat that rises to your cheeks. The pretty pink flush when he pulls you near. The hitch of your breath.

Ah. There it is.

Success at last.

.

.

Sadly for him, success doesn't last long. You get used to his wily ways quick enough, you always do.

And it doesn't have the profound effect on you that Goo initially anticipated. He thought that might lead to a confession of sorts from yourself, and even you both skipping into the sunset together.

Neither happens. You stay as cutely tight lipped as ever.

Well if he can't worm his way into your heart with his A game and progress whatever this is you both have going on-

(Which is frankly a little insulting to think about. Goo would like you to know that some people have taken one look, one!, at his hot self and thrown themselves to his feet.)

-Then he can just buy your love.

In Goo's world, in this world, there is nothing that money can't solve. Luckily, Goo has lots of it.

He starts small.

Your reaction when he gave you a bouquet of flowers was rather sweet. He takes note of the way your face softens, how your eyes crinkle when you smile, the shape of your lips as you’re surprised with his gesture.

 If Goo was the sappy sort, he would say that it felt like his heart skipped a beat.

Turns out that he is the sappy sort, and he talked Crystal's ear off about it until she kicked him out of her office and slammed the door in his face.

Next, the jewellery you seemed taken aback by. A few pieces you looked at in distaste despite the size of the gemstones, had the audacity to say they're garish and inconvenient. 

“It’s too much,” you tell him. “Take them back. Return them. Please.”

You left all but one: a simple ring with a plain design.

The affront that Goo felt only lasted for a night at your rejection, dissipating the moment he saw the ring on your finger the next day, shining brightly in the sun. Enough to rival the smile that crept over his face.

.

.

Turns out that the car dealership was a step too far though, a step too ill thought out. The gifts gradually got bigger and grander until one weekend afternoon, you were looking around at brand new vehicles with Goo.

"This is by appointment only," he doesn't hesitate to brag. "It's exclusive. They managed to fit me 'cos I'm kinda a big deal."

You hum in response, your usual go to reply when Goo is feeling particularly full of himself and you’re half listening.

"What do you think of this one, sweetheart?" he asks, steering you towards the most expensive vehicle in the showroom, with more horsepower or torque or whatever it is enthusiasts talk about.

A sleek and shiny sports car that you know for a fact costs more than you will ever make in a year. All chrome and aerodynamic lines, that screams I have money and the biggest dick around here (or tiniest, depending on who you ask and whether you think they're trying to overcompensate).

You take one look at Goo, eyes dropping to his crotch and feel your body flushing. You quickly try to shake those obscene thoughts from your head.

"Um," you clear your throat, which has mysteriously dried up at the last second, "It's nice I guess? Bit much though." You poke your head through the window, admiring the top of the range features and the smell of fresh leather. Goo is nothing if not in your face, and this car certainly fits his vibe.

"Nothing is too much for you!" his voice floats over your shoulder, and you whip your head to stare at him.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"What do you mean?"

"It's on me, cupcake! For you." He throws his arm around your shoulder, a touch of sincerity under his usual viper grin.

Huh. Not only is this excessive-

"My apartment doesn't have any parking," You state, and Goo starts calculating if he likes you enough to buy you a new apartment also and unfortunately the drop in his bank balance still doesn't outweigh his feelings for you. Whether you will accept is the question but he can work on that.

All thoughts are derailed though with your next words-

"I can't drive. I don't have my licence. And the thought of navigating Seoul traffic," you grimace at the idea, "Nightmare. Not for me. No thanks."

Oh. For fuck's sake. There goes the idea to buy your love with gifts. Most people would say thank you with a smile and go to at least sell the car but of course you would rebuff him. He’s been letting you take advantage of his bank balance, his hard earned money, and of course you’re too good to him to do that.

‘So this entire day was a complete waste of time,’ Goo thinks sourly hours later, meandering the streets side by side with you, spending the rest of your afternoon together. Until-

"Oh my god I love these!" You exclaim, taking a bite out of the hotteok. Fresh off the grill from the street vendor, paid for by your companion. Out of everything he has given, or tried to give you - you're the happiest with the cheap street food. "You're the best!" you tell him between mouthfuls.

Goo doesn't stop his chest from puffing out at that comment. Those words elevating today from being deemed a waste to... fun.

And actually, a little sweet.

.

.

If he can't win you over completely with gifts, then he will show you how irreplaceable he is.

Over the next week, Goo is at your beck and call. His clinginess taken to whole new levels. He's at your home more often than not, by your side almost every moment of the day.

"Don't you have work?" You ask when he's glued to your side one morning.

"You're more important, sweetheart," he says, words off the cuff and surface level.

It's only hours later, when he has reluctantly peeled himself away to finish a task with Gun, he realises that it's not entirely inaccurate.

Free time is spent driving you from A-to-B. Heavens forbid you are forced to use public transport (Goo shudders at this thought) and since you hate Seoul traffic, he might as well keep you company.

He's on his most gentlemanly best behaviour. 

Holding doors open, draping his jacket over you if so much as a gentle breeze is around. Hand-made meals, lunches and extravagant dinners. Even chores.

"Do you live here now?" You ask, padding out to your kitchen. Half asleep, hair in disarray to Goo humming and washing your dishes.

He smiles, sly and snake-like, "Are you asking?"

With a yawn, you burst his bubble, "Nope."

Goddamnit. Not even trying to be the best househusband seems to be working. What will it take for you to confess that you like him? He's getting sick of this song and dance.

He scrubs with a huff at a particular stubborn stain on a pan. Stupid pan and stupid chores and stupid househusbandry.

Ugh. What pisses him off most of all is: he thinks he can get used to this. 

Being around you all the time, taking care of you. Not even you in your ratty old sleepwear, with threadbare knees and oversized t-shirt dims how he feels about you.

.

.

Goo isn't an idiot, despite what Gun might say.

He possesses frightening intelligence even if sometimes his common sense is nowhere to be seen.

You like him, he knows this. He likes you, he also knows this. 

Then why on earth can't he bring himself to tell you? Is it that expressing it is a vulnerability he's not used to having on display? That despite everything, speaking it into existence means that he's offering you himself and there is always a chance of rejection?

If Goo was more mentally balanced and less self absorbed, maybe he would dwell on these doubts and feelings. Be introspective for the first time ever. 

He is not.

Instead he feels overwhelming indignation that it has come to this, that nothing has had the desired effect, and most importantly it's all your fault.

He puts all his energy into storming his way over to your home, wanting everything and everyone around him to be also darkened by his mood.  Makes sure his displeasure is felt through the way he stomps, how he slams his car door, how he blasts through traffic lights. Buzzing himself into your apartment building with vehemence, pounding on your front door until he hears your exasperation from somewhere inside.

"Hold on Goo! What the hell!"

The door is yanked open. For a brief moment Goo sees your annoyed expression, before he too is yanked inside.

"What is your problem?" Each word is punctuated with a jab in his chest.

Goo refrains from devolving into a tantrum. Realises that he already seems unhinged enough and doesn't want this conversation to get any worse. 

Taking a deep breath, he grabs hold of that jabby finger (noting with amusement that other people's fingers he has broken for much less), adorned with a familiar ring, pulls your hand into his and strokes over your knuckles once, twice, three times.

He is absolutely not buying time. But really, why has it come to this: sincerity and honesty. How unseemly. This is so not him that even the idea of it sends shivers down his spine.

Whatever. With one last breath he forces out any trepidation and regains his usual composure. The one that is all confidence and captivating and can talk circles around anyone anyday.

"Y/N,” he purrs, "I like you and you like me."

You open your mouth to say something but he presses on. "It's obvious. I'm not stupid.”  Goo points to his glasses, “I have eyes. I can see how you are around me, cupcake. And it's painfully obvious that I like you too." He allows himself an irritable sigh at this.

"Honestly I'm the one that gets courted. I'm a catch. People chase after me," he mutters to himself. "And yet look at me now."  Huffing at himself for his behaviour, he turns back to you. "Why don’t we see how this-" signalling between you and him, "-goes, hmm? 

"Wait," you take a step back from his presumptiveness.

Which isn't wrong, per se. In fact, he is completely spot on. Goo is an objectively attractive guy, you would be blind not to realise it (or have questionable taste). Sure his personality offsets his looks, because good god it can be grating as hell, but even with all his flaws he has wormed himself into your heart and into your life too.

You flitter somewhere between friends and more. Friends, with this odd, prickly, scheming creature is a miracle in itself. You’re not sure why this red flag shines green with you but he does. You don't know how you balance each other but you do. You don't know how it works but it does. 

Moving this to something more though, it scares you. Especially if he's as blasé and unserious about this as he is with most things in his life that don't revolve around money.

"Goo..." You try to phrase this delicately. "Your relationships or encounters or whatever you want to call them don't end well." He gasps at your words. "I don't want to start up some casual whatever with you for you to then change your mind. It could really mess things up between us."

"Casual?" He scoffs, dismissing your concerns with a wave of his hand,  "I've been 100% from the start. You should know I'm all in, sweetheart."

Your breath hitches. This wasn't what you meant. This wasn't what you were asking but he answers your doubts anyway.

"I'm all in on this," he repeats, crossing his heart mockingly though there is no disguising the earnestness in his words; how his actions over the last weeks and months have shown you that he's serious.

Still. You want to double-check.

"...Are you sure?"

"Y/N. Sweetheart." he places your own hand over his heart, "I've never been more sure of anything."

His glasses catch the light. Flashing mischievously and wickedly like it always does yet you can't see any ill intent. There's no hesitancy in his conviction.

"We fit, don't we?" Goo smiles, sensing your apprehension wavering and crumbling.

You can't deny that you do.

"Yes," is your simple reply. You peer at him from below your lashes and find him looking at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Still pressed against his heart, Goo moves your hand up to his lips. A playful grin that is full of promises spreads across his face. His eyes don’t leave yours as he seals it all, marks it official, with a kiss.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Celebrating Wins

Word count: 942

Pairing: Lando norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: As a new couple landos girlfrined celebrates his polepostion with with a playful, intimate evening, marking the start of their relationship

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The excitement from the day still lingered as we made our way back to the hotel. The buzz of the crowd, the thrill of Lando securing pole position in Q3—it was all still fresh in our minds. But now, it was just us, away from the cameras and the noise, and I had something fun and a bit silly planned for our own private celebration. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. We had only just gotten together, and this was my first chance to really show him how proud I was of him. I wanted to make the night special, something he’d remember—not just as a celebration of his pole position, but as a moment that marked the beginning of us.

As we stepped into our room, Lando immediately burst into laughter. I had covered the bed with orange and blue confetti—McLaren’s colors, of course. There were small, goofy trophies on the nightstand, the kind you’d find at a dollar store, with labels like “World’s Best Driver” and “Pole Position King” hastily scribbled on them in my handwriting. I’d even put out a cheesy plastic crown that said “Speed King” in glittery letters.

“Are you serious?” Lando asked, grinning from ear to ear as he picked up one of the trophies. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

“Well, someone’s got to remind you how awesome you are,” I teased, reaching up to place the crown on his head. It was a bit too small, but he wore it proudly, striking a ridiculous pose.

“I feel like royalty,” he declared, holding out his hand for me to kiss, as if he were some kind of racing monarch.

Laughing, I took his hand and gave it an exaggerated, over-the-top kiss. “Your Majesty, the Speed King, shall we dine?”

He snorted, his eyes shining with amusement. “Lead the way, my loyal subject.”

We moved to the small table I’d set up near the window, where a simple dinner was waiting for us—nothing too heavy, just some of Lando’s favorite Italian dishes, including a massive bowl of pasta. I’d even ordered pizza, because who can resist pizza in Italy? And there, chilling in the ice bucket, was a bottle of his favorite champagne.

As we sat down, I grabbed a napkin and tucked it into his shirt collar like a bib. “Can’t have you getting pasta sauce on your royal robes,” I said, doing my best to keep a straight face.

Lando burst out laughing again. “You’re ridiculous! But I love it.”

We dug into the food, the atmosphere light and playful. Lando twirled his pasta dramatically, pretending to be a food critic as he took a bite. “Ah, yes, the perfect carbo-loading meal for a champion,” he said in a mock-serious tone.

“Only the best for you, your highness,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

As we finished eating, I brought out a small cake I’d hidden earlier. It was nothing fancy, just a simple cake with “Pole Position!” written in blue and orange icing, with a little toy car on top for good measure. I stuck a single sparkler in the middle and lit it, the tiny fireworks crackling and popping.

Lando’s face lit up with childlike glee as he watched the sparkler. “This is amazing. I didn’t think I could be this excited about cake.”

“Well, it’s not just any cake,” I said, grinning. “It’s the first of many celebrations this weekend, I hope.”

“Does this mean if I win tomorrow, I get another cake?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, you bet,” I replied, slicing into the cake and handing him a piece. “And maybe I’ll even throw in a victory dance.”

He nearly choked on his cake from laughing so hard. “Please tell me you’re not serious about the dance.”

“I’m dead serious,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “It’ll be legendary. You’ll win the race and I’ll be the talk of the paddock for my sweet moves.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “Now I’m even more motivated to win, just to see this ‘legendary’ dance.”

After we finished the cake, we collapsed onto the bed, both of us a little too full and a lot too happy. Lando was still wearing the plastic crown, and I couldn’t help but giggle every time I looked at him.

“You know,” he said, turning to me with a grin, “this has been the best celebration ever. No fancy dinners, no big parties—just us, being goofy.”

I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder. “That’s because it’s real. And you deserve to enjoy every second of it, without any pressure.”

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “Thanks. I needed this. It’s easy to get caught up in everything, but tonight, I feel like I can just be me. With you.”

I reached up and took the crown off his head, placing it on mine. “Well, tomorrow, the Speed King is going to show everyone what he’s made of. And McLaren is going to be that much closer to winning it all.”

Lando grinned and leaned in to kiss me, his lips warm and soft against mine. “I couldn’t do it without you, you know. You make this all so much better.”

As the night wore on and we finally started to drift off to sleep, Lando whispered, “No matter what happens tomorrow, this is my favorite victory.”

I smiled, cuddling closer to him. “Mine too. But just so you know, I’m ready for another cake tomorrow.”

He chuckled softly. “You better start practicing that victory dance then.”

[steveseddie]

do or do not (there is no try)

for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round: birthday | word count: 290 | rating: t | happy birthday @steddieas-shegoes <3

this is also for my stficbingo prompt: lightsaber

***

Vvvrrroomm!

Steve ducks his head as Eddie swings his lightsaber, slaying imaginary Jedis. He’s been doing that since opening his birthday present, squealing excitedly at the toy Steve bought as a joke. 

Eddie’s real present is at Steve’s house. He’ll give it to him after his surprise party- new strings for his Warlock and a signed Metallica record that Steve drove three towns over to get. But if Eddie acts half as excited about those as he’s right now, it’ll be worth it.

“Join the Dark Side or perish,” Eddie says in a deep voice, holding the red lightsaber against Steve’s neck.

“No, thanks?” Steve thinks back to the night they met. “And, why do you keep holding deadly objects against my neck?” 

Eddie shrugs, withdrawing the lightsaber and spinning it, only to accidentally drop it. “Shit.” 

“Not very Jedi Knight of you.” 

He sits next close to Steve on the couch. “I shall convince you to join some other way.” 

“How?” 

“With my good looks. And my charm.” 

“Hmm, done.”

Eddie cackles. “That easy?” 

It was that easy for Steve to fall for Eddie, so.

“Yeah, to really seal the deal though, I suggest a kiss.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen. “A kiss? Seriously?” Steve nods. “Okay. Holy shit.”

And holy shit is right, Steve thinks, as Eddie gives him a short kiss. 

They pull away when Eddie’s walkie crackles- Dustin’s signal. 

“We’ll continue that after my party.” Eddie taps his finger against Steve’s lip.

“How do you-” 

“Robin.” Eddie says, sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll feign surprise. Now c’mon I gotta show Henderson my lightsaber!” He waggles his eyebrows. “And later, I’ll show you my other lightsaber.” 

Steve’s face matches the red lightsaber, which Eddie picks up before dragging him outside.

[redvelvetcupcakes21]

Small Halloween fic based on this post

Buck knew Tommy's biggest secret, that despite their friends thinking Tommy was the "cool guy", Tommy was indeed the biggest dork Buck had ever met.

Buck wasn't complaining though because it made Tommy cooler in his eyes.

So it didn't surprise Buck one bit that Tommy absolutely loved Halloween to the point where Buck had discovered that Tommy's house was the house to go to for trick or treating since Tommy always had a jump scare pranks for the older kids and full sized candy bars for everyone who came knocking.

And of course Tommy was a huge advocate of wearing costumes, he had shown Buck the costume he had worn during past Halloween parties from Captain America, Hulk, Super Mario, to a werewolf complete with a furry mask. Tommy was definitely into Halloween.

Which was why he was super excited to show Buck the costume he had picked out for Chimney and Maddie's Halloween party. The party was set to be adults only (The Lees had opted to take care of Jee, Denny and Mara for the evening) and fortunately it was when the 118 crew had a night off.

Tommy had been quiet about his options so all Buck knew was that Tommy was still deciding.

The costume options where the last thing Buck was thinking off when he returned to Tommy's home after a brisk run around the neighborhood, Buck had just mid swallowed a gulp of water when Tommy stepped into the kitchen with arms spread wide and asking Buck, "So what do you think?"

Buck choked on his water, spitting it everywhere as Tommy came up to clap him on the back. "Are you okay?" Tommy asked worriedly.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Buck asked, getting the air back into his lungs, his tone held no malice or anger. Buck was sure he was red all over and it wasn't because he was struggling to clear his throat.

But because Tommy was wearing a Spartan costume. The costume left little to nothing to the imagination. Buck's eyes were glued to Tommy's chest, were a harness was wrapped around his boyfriend's shoulders and chest, attached to a long red flowing cape and complete with pleather looking cuff wristbands. The happy trail on Tommy's stomach led to brown leather "shorts" that were essentially underwear and made Buck feel overheated and lightheaded all at once.

"You don't like it?" Tommy asked, looking genuinely wounded. He ran his fingers down the cape. "I thought it looked cool." He picked up the plastic sledge hammer that was tied to his "shorts", "Even came with this cool hammer." He smiled, the crinkles around his eyes, along with Tommy's curly hair and stubble had Buck losing blood flow to his head.

"You don't think it's...I don't know? Revealing?" He gulped, touching his boyfriends pecs and running his fingers down Tommy's chest hair. He stumbled over his words as he saw Tommy looking at him in a affronted manner. "I-I just mean uh that it might be a lot for a Halloween party?"

Tommy shook his head good naturally in disagreement, "We're going to an adults only Halloween party, trust me I'm sure this is probably the least revealing outfit we'll see there tonight. Especially if dispatch is invited, they really like to break loose after hours." Tommy waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"It's just that..." Buck's fingers skimmed the top of the shorts, "You look like you're legit wearing underwear, really hot underwear." the fuzzy part of his brain wondered if Tommy had on a cup, he had to be based on how tight the damn shorts were. Buck felt himself lick his lips as pulled on the shorts, earning a slap on his hand from Tommy.

"Hey!" Tommy pushed him back playfully, "Hands off the merchandise."

Buck didn't let the push deter him from grabbing Tommy by the hips and pulling him closer, "My merchandise." he growled, huffing out a groan as he started kissing Tommy's neck, biting hard at the skin under Tommy's ear.

"This is really doing it for you?" Tommy asked shivering as Buck's hands started to pull at the laces on his shorts. "Baby, it's a essentially a knock off of on a Thor costume."

Buck didn't bother even looking up as he started to kiss down Tommy's neck to his chest, "You just came in here wearing underwear and a harness, its going to do something to me, Tommy." he peered up at Tommy, watching how the older man looked both surprised and turned on as Buck press open mouth kisses over his chest.

Buck felt himself preen as Tommy started to pant, "Okay, so maybe the costume stays home." he decided as Buck dragged him towards the bedroom.

"It's definitely going to stay on, especially that cape." Buck promised.

-

This wasn't revenge.

Well, not exactly.

But Buck had a plan up his sleeve, it just took a few days to execute said plan.

Despite him and Tommy deciding to opt for a costume couple (they compromised and settled on going as Deadpool and Wolverine since they couldn't settle on which Star Wars franchise to pick from), Buck had his on costume he wanted to wear for Tommy.

Granted it wasn't anything outlandish, but Buck knew Tommy had one major weakness.

Romantic period piece movies and shows.

(Buck could freaking memorize Mr. Darcy's line from Pride and Prejudice by now)

Which was why Buck didn't bother to shave for a while, bought tan high waisted linen pants and those billow-ly white "pirate" shirt that would show off his chest. Separately they looked ridiculous, together along with Buck's curly hair and opting to go bare foot, he looked like he walked off the set of a Bridgeton episode.

Which was the goal.

Tommy was working on Buck's jeep when Buck sneaked into the garage.

"You almost done?" he asked Tommy airily.

"Yeah," Tommy stood up and turned around, "Just abou-oumph."

Buck mentally gave himself a high five as he watched Tommy open and close his mouth multiple times, his blue eyes wide. The way he could see Tommy's chest rise up and down was the added cherry on top.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked playfully, watching as Tommy dropped the towel he was using to wipe his hands.

"You look..." Tommy dry swallowed, rushing to get his hands all over Buck. "Hot." he wheezed out. "God, you look- Evan, all you need is the accent and I would get down on my knees immediately." Tommy swore, his fingers dipping under Buck's shirt and brushing Buck's stomach.

Buck used his two fingers to lift Tommy's chin up and in his best British accent (A really good one if you asked Buck) told Tommy, "I take it the gentle sir thinks highly of my attire then, hmm?"

Watching Tommy's eyes dilate and his intake of breath was all Buck needed to know he won.

He already knew where they were going when Tommy started to pull him into the house but he asked anyway- showing off his accent still, "Where are we going?"

"The garage floor is killer on the knees and I have plans for us now!"

[slut4evanpeters]

Undercover

Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

warnings: p i v, semi public sex, bar bathroom sex, fluffy, bad smut writing cause i rushed it😭, slight fingering

word count: 2.1k

note: OKAY PLS READ FOR SOME CONTEXT!! so in this lets pretend peter doesnt know that erik is his father.... I LITERALLY COULD NOT THINK OF ANYONE ELSE TO PUT AS THE TARGET😭😭

MDNI 18+

Peter Maximoff, in true form, leaned casually against the bar, the mischievous glint in his deep bronze eyes shining beneath his tousled hair. A smirk danced on his lips, his trademark look, while his leather jacket gleamed slightly in the dim light. He threw you a playful glance, the corner of his mouth curling upward. Your pulse quickened, excitement intertwining with the thrill of your mission, the energy palpable between you.

The mission was straightforward in theory: infiltrate the bar, gather intelligence on a rumored underground operation, and remain unnoticed.

Peter raised a brow, his voice dripping with sarcastic charm. “So, you ready for this adventure? ’Cause I’m thinking we’re about to make one gnarly couple, don’t you?” His tone was light, but his eyes sparkled with that undeniable Maximoff mischief.

You gave him a skeptical look, keeping your voice low as you leaned closer. “Let’s just stick to the plan, okay? We need to blend in. Not make a scene.”

Peter, undeterred, shot you a mock pout. “Come on, don’t be such a square. We’re undercover, babe! Gotta add some spice. A little flirt-fest between us could totally sell this whole gig, don’tcha think?”

You sighed, shaking your head, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the edges of your lips. “Flirting isn’t part of the mission briefing. We’re supposed to act like a couple, not a couple of airheads having fun.”

He winked, leaning in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Relax, babe. It’s called method acting. Just roll with it. I mean, you’re lucky you get to hang with a guy as rad as me.” He leaned back, his grin widening. “Besides, a little hand-holding never killed anyone.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Hand-holding, huh? What’s next, kisses? I think you’re getting a little carried away, Maximoff.”

Peter shot you a playful smirk, waggling his eyebrows. “Who, me? Carried away? Pfft, nah. But hey, we gotta make it look real, right? And if that means we gotta smooch to sell the story, well… I’m just sayin’ im a pretty bitchin' kisser.” He slid his hand into yours, his fingers lacing through yours with ease. The sudden warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity up your arm, and despite your earlier words, you felt your pulse quicken.

You gave him a stern look, though the playful heat between you was undeniable. “Let’s just focus. We’ve got a job to do.”

Peter shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Sure thing, boss. But if this turns into a John Hughes flick, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He flashed you a grin, squeezing your hand gently before turning his attention to the room.

As the night stretched on, you and Peter navigated the bar seamlessly, weaving in and out of conversations and making casual small talk with patrons. Peter’s natural charm was disarming, and he wielded it with practiced ease, drawing people in with laughter and lighthearted banter. Meanwhile, you played the part of the attentive partner, throwing in affectionate glances and the occasional touch, all while keeping your senses sharp for any signs of your true objective.

“We’re looking for a dude named Erik,” you reminded him softly, leaning in to speak over the music. “Supposedly, he’s around here somewhere.”

Peter quirked a brow, tapping his chin theatrically. “Erik, huh? Sounds like a dude straight out of an action flick. Got it. Objective one: No making out with the fake boyfriend while looking for the bad guy. Objective two: Don’t get totally wrecked by said bad guy.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “Very funny. Let’s just stay focused.”

Peter’s energy never wavered, and he flitted effortlessly from group to group, flashing his trademark grin and making fast friends with everyone from the bartender to the bouncer. He threw himself into the role with abandon, though the playful tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface, always threatening to boil over.

“Man, this place is so bogus,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m stuck here with you.”

Peter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Bogus? Babe, this place is a gold mine club! The tunes are totally righteous, the vibe is chill, and the drinks? On Charles! What more could you ask for?”

Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible? Nah. Impossibly cool, maybe. Besides, you get to hang out with me. That’s primo, babe.”

As the banter continued, the underlying tension between you both crackled with intensity. Every glance, every brush of his hand against yours felt charged, like a live wire running beneath the surface of your mission.

After what felt like hours of mingling, you caught Peter’s eye and gave a subtle nod. It was time to move. Together, you made your way toward the back of the bar, slipping into a quieter, dimly lit corridor that led toward the restrooms. The pounding music faded into the background, leaving the space eerily quiet compared to the chaos just beyond.

“Erik's gotta be lurking back here somewhere.” you whispered, scanning the hallway.

Peter’s hand slipped from yours as he gestured down the hallway with a flick of his head. “I’ll take the right, you grab the left. Keep it cool, babe, don’t want things to go totally off the rails.”

Before you could argue, he was gone in a flash, disappearing down the right side of the corridor. You swallowed your nerves, adjusted your stance, and headed in the opposite direction.

The hall was dark, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer and something faintly metallic. As you approached the restroom, the sound of running water and the occasional clatter of something metallic filled the otherwise quiet space.

Peter reappeared seconds later, his grin as confident as ever. “Miss me?”

“Not really.” you replied with a smile, trying to match his nonchalance. “Find anything?”

“Nada,” he said with a dramatic sigh, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. “But something tells me things are about to get, like, totally heated.”

The air between you shifted as Peter stepped closer, his presence magnetic. The playful banter faded, replaced by an intense silence that buzzed with unspoken anticipation. Your breath caught as the space between you narrowed, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

There was a shift in the air between you, the playful banter fading into something deeper, more palpable. Peter stepped closer, his presence magnetic, drawing you in without either of you uttering a word. The intensity in his gaze caught you off guard, and before you realized what was happening, the space between you vanished.

Your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss, but the restraint didn’t last. In a matter of moments, the kiss deepened, the passion between you igniting with a sudden and unrelenting force. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until every part of you was pressed against him. The world outside—the mission, the bar, everything—faded into a distant blur. All that existed was the heat of his touch, the fervor in his kiss, and the overwhelming sense that this moment had been inevitable from the start.

As the kiss intensified, you lost yourself in the feel of him. The warmth of his skin beneath your fingers, the way his breath hitched every time your lips brushed against his. His mouth moved with a hunger that matched your own, a silent agreement that this was more than just a cover for the mission.

your bodies moved in perfect unison, as if they were two halves of the same whole. Peter's hands traced down your back, sending shivers down your spine, and you felt his erection press against your tummy as he pushed you against the wall.

You slowly pulled away from the kiss, your lips tingling from the intensity of it, but your body remained firmly pressed against Peter's. Your breasts flush against his chest, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt. The proximity between you was almost unbearable, each breath you took mixing with his, creating a charged intimacy that crackled in the small space between you. Your heart pounded in sync with his, the intensity of the moment thick and electrifying.

Your gaze locked onto his, unwavering and filled with an unspoken need. There was no hesitation in your voice as you whispered, your words heavy with desire. "Right here, Peter. Take me right here. Right now." The intensity in your eyes echoed the urgency in your voice, a plea that left no room for doubt, only raw, immediate passion.

all of a sudden you realize Peter has moved you both to a small restroom in the bar.

The bathroom was tiny, the walls painted a dark, almost black shade that made the light seem to flicker. Peter leaned you against the cool porcelain sink, his hands roaming up your body, leaving trails of heat in the tension. Your skin prickled with excitement, and you could feel the fabric of your dress straining against your curves. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You gasped, your hand reaching up to tangle in his silver locks. His touch was firm, yet gentle, as if he knew exactly how to coax the responses he wanted from you.

The kiss grew more passionate, your tongues dancing together as the music from the bar pounded in the background. It was a rhythm that matched the beating of your hearts, a tempo that spurred them on. Peter's hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. You arched into him, eager for more. He groaned, the sound vibrating through your chest.

With a swift move, Peter lifted you onto the sink, your bodies aligned in a way that made it clear what was about to happen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his muscles tense as he held you there. His eyes searched yours for extra reassurance, and you nodded, your eyes filled with a hunger that mirrored his. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that spoke of need and desire. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you closer. You feel peter lift up your dress and push aside your panties while also unzipping his jeans and pulling out his hard length. You could feel the head of his erection at your entrance.

The world outside the stall faded away as Peter pushed into you, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You tightened your grip on his shoulders, your nails digging half moon shapes into his shoulders as he began to thrust into your begging hole. His strokes were deep and deliberate, and you met him with every thrust, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time. The coolness of the sink was a stark contrast to the heat between them, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth, the sound muffled by your kisses. Peter's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch. You could feel his fingers tightening, his movements becoming more urgent.

Your breathing grew ragged, and you knew he was close to the edge. The music grew louder, the bass line pounding in time with your hearts. Peter's hand slipped between your thighs, down to your clit. You bit back a cry as he began to rub it in gentle circles. The sensation was too much, and you felt yourself falling apart in his arms, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, and you felt him cum with you. His body shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment, You stayed like that, panting and clinging to each other, the only sound in the stall the muffled throb of the music outside. Then Peter leaned in, kissing your forehead gently, his eyes filled with a softness you hadn't seen before.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, Peter leaned his forehead against yours, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. But we should probably…”

“Get back to the mission?” Peter finished, his voice low and teasing. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips “Yeah, yeah. Mission first. But don’t think I’m done with you yet, babe.”

The thrill of the moment lingered between you as you got yourselves dressed. The mission still hanging in the air—but now, something much more electric simmered beneath the surface.

okay my shit 80s vocabulary needs to never be written again I APOLOGIZE IF ITS CORNY

[wrangleandtame]

Clouds Don't Perish (They Dissipate)

Think you could get off this road?” Kate hollered, “feel like I’m in a paint shaker.”

Tyler glanced at her with that mischievous smile, the one her mom had deemed his “shit-eating grin.”

“Short cut!” he yelled back.

“I can see the map, you idiot, this is twice as long!”

He shrugged, “I got you alone in this truck for the first time in a week. I’m goin’ the long way ‘round.”

“Your plan is to fuck me in some random field, isn’t it?”

He snorted, “sure as hell is now!”

He released his full-throated laugh, revealing all of his perfect teeth, crow's feet splaying out from his sunglasses. She loved that laugh; it should be labeled a contagion. The man could suss out the fun in nearly any situation, and his exuberance nearly always stirred Kate from her occasional tendency towards re-erecting emotional barriers. 

This was one of THOSE moments wherein Kate perceived her own contentment: bouncing around the cab of his truck, Tyler singing (not well) along to Lydia Loveless blasting, windows down, kicking up a trail of rocks and dust behind them. 

Backward cap, button-up green flannel, and the now ever-present perfectly manicured two-day scruff (possibly motivated by Kate mentioning the pleasing sensation of his unshaven face between her thighs) were absolutely doing it for her. He caught her gazing and leered back suggestively, waggling his eyebrows over the top of his sunglasses. She dissolved into laughter. 

She felt her phone vibrate so she lengthened her torso and yanked it free of her side pocket.  The lit screen displayed, “Mom.”

  “I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of a hello.

Tyler’s head whipped back to her in interest, tipping his head low enough for his eyes to be seen over his sunglasses. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Kate mouthed “mom,” and the easy smile returned to his face. He twisted the dial, lowering the volume of the music and raised the windows with a flick of his finger.

“Hi Cathy!” he called.

“And where are you guys at today?” Cathy questioned.

“Close actually. Like, uh, 20 miles north of Tulsa,” Kate peaked at the radar projections again, hoping for something more promising. “We’ll probably stay in that area today, unless things change.”

“Well, if things don’t change and you want to come home, you can invite your crew to save a few dollars and stay at the farm.”

“Did she say hi back?” Tyler nagged, and Kate scowled and waved him off. Her mother’s aloof demeanor brought out a rare obsequious quality in Tyler, and this usually amused Kate. At the moment, she just wanted him to shut up.

“That would be amazing.  I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

Tyler interrupted, “appreciate what?”

“Mom invited us all to stay at the house tonight.”

“Just made my day Cathy,” he yelled at the phone.

“It’ll be nice,” Cathy continued. “I’ll make a mess of barbecue.”

Kate’s mouth watered at the thought of real food, “that sounds so so good.”

“Call me later and let me know.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up, stowed her phone in her pocket, and Tyler asked again, “did she say hi back?”

“Yeah, she says hi,” she lied, and then swung her head towards the backseat to tell Addy and Praveen about the barbecue food waiting for them. 

Later, even with hindsight and self-awareness intact, she would be astounded by her certainty that they had been an arm's length away, faces lit with excitement. Addy even pushed her glasses up with her wrist, just as she always had, her glasses ever-slipping and her hands ever-full.

Kate gasped and caught a peripheral of a smiling Jeb at the wheel. She threw herself against her passenger door and screwed her eyes shut, pressing the palms of her hands into her sockets.

“Kate?” Jeb said, concern lacing his voice. No, not Jeb. TYLER said, concern lacing HIS voice. Tyler Owens, she corrected her stupid brain. 

“You okay?”

She didn’t look up, keeping her palms planted firmly against her eyes. A sob escaped her mouth instead of the reasonable explanation she intended. Why did she sound like that?

“Whoa, whoa. Kate? Hang on.” She felt a hand on the top of her head, but she still didn’t move. If she didn’t move, she reasoned, perhaps this nightmare would conclude quickly.

She felt the truck swerve and stop, the rumbling of the engine cut out. What should have been silence overflowed with the sounds of hyperventilating and an approaching freight train. 

She felt sure her death was imminent. Her body shook uncontrollably, and her heartbeat pounded ferociously, attempting to break out from her chest. She had unconsciously pulled her knees up and had formed a tight ball with her body.

“What’s going on? Can you hear me?” Tyler sounded as if he was in a tunnel. Shit. Maybe an underpass.

She thought she might be able to speak, but gasps and sobs colonized the space where words should be.

“Can you try and look at me?”

Kate released the pressure on her eyeballs and attempted to tip her head up to see Tyler but her vision was completely blurred by tears. Was she crying?

Her teeth chattered, and Tyler placed a hand on her cheek, “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“No,” she sobbed, “I don’t, I don’t have them anymore.”

Was that her voice? Kate doubted it. That didn’t sound like her. 

Blurry Tyler’s head nodded, “Let’s say we just try to take some deep breaths anyway.  It can’t hurt.”

She realized that the thunderous freight train was an oncoming tornado. People always describe the sound of a tornado as a train, but she wouldn’t have described it as such before now. 

For her, tornadoes sounded like monsters, growling and roaring. She looked out the windows, frantically searching the bright horizon. Where was it?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tyler cooed, “You’re okay.”  

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was fucking okay. 

HER tornado was coming for them, and she couldn’t even see it! She could hear the change of the roar to the cacophony of whooshing and clanging when it’s devoured Praveen and clamoring for Addy. The bellowing while yanking Jeb from atop her. The deafening barrage when it’s aiming to suck Kate out from an underpass. Fucking stop. Stop. STOP!

“Kate?” Tyler tried again. 

“I can’t. Can’t make it stop,” she cried, her thoughts jumbling, her mind jumping time. Past, present, past, present.

She suddenly launched herself forward, peering into the back seat to see if they were still there.  They weren’t, of course, because they were dead. They wouldn’t be eating barbecue today. Not any day. They were dead. She knew this. She’d known this for a long time.

She planted herself back in her seat, and looked into Tyler’s face, clenching with concern. Maybe worse than concern. Shit, he thought she was crazy. He had a point. Sane people don’t see ghosts.  Sane people don’t hear invisible tornadoes. 

She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to dampen the bellowing and keening, “Stop. I just…please stop.”

Tyler carefully pulled her hands from her ears, “Kate, look in my eyes. Can you see me?”

She focused on his vivid seaglass-green eyes. Where did his sunglasses go? She nodded and stammered, “Yes. I. Yes.”

“Okay, good. You’re doing good. Now listen to me. Stop trying to make it stop.”

Stop trying to make it stop. What the fuck was he talking about?

“Just focus on me if you can. Be here with me.” He kept her trembling hands in his, but she pulled them back from his grasp. She quickly checked the backseat again. Empty.

“Keep your eyes on me.” 

She refocused upon his face, nodding. 

“Atta girl, okay, we’re going to breathe together now.”

  His movements seemed exaggerated, his chest and mouth moving slowly, “okay, breathing in two three four, and out two three four, breathing in two three four.” 

She attempted to mimic him but couldn’t figure out the actual mechanics of breathing, and this terrified her even more than riding shotgun with her dead friends. 

“Can’t,” she shook harder, her teeth clacking together. How do you breathe!? How?

“That’s okay, that’s okay. I’m going to breathe and you just listen. You’re doing fine.”

“Not fine,” she stammered. 

“You will be. Y’hear me? This won’t last much longer. It’ll be over soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

She shook her head; nothing was okay.

“C’mon Kate, let’s get some air. It’ll do you good.”

“No!” she grabbed his forearm, frantically looking outside. Didn’t he know how much danger he was in? A new wave of fear rippled through her body.

“You’re safe. I promise,” the sincerity in his voice almost made her believe him. “Let’s look at some clouds. You’re not in any danger. It’s going to be okay Kate. Trust me.” 

He placed his rough warm hand over hers, and she looked at his arm where she clutched him, knuckles white, fingernails plugged into his skin. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t even rotate her eyes off the soft hairs on his tawny arm. 

“I’ll be with you, and we’ll just look at some clouds. Just you and me. Just Tyler and Kate, okay?”

She had no memory of agreeing, of releasing his arm, or of him exiting the truck and moving to her door. She blinked, and he leaned in the open passenger-side door, expectantly waiting for her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do or say. Did he ask her a question? 

His face was achingly soft, eyes balmy with affection. He slipped his arm around her back and one under her knees, “this okay?”

She nodded, and he scooped her into his arms, lifting her from the truck cab and using his booted foot to close the creaking metal truck door.

He crossed the road and ambled into a low-growing field of green.  He carried her, but she was the one panting in uneven sporadic bursts, clutching handfuls of his soft flannel shirt.

He murmured softly to her as he walked through the field, “it’s alright. You’re alright Kate. I’m right here. Just going to look at some clouds. Just breathe. You’re alright.”

She tucked her head against his chin, desperately attempting to anchor time to his voice.

“This looks like a good spot. We’re going to sit for a spell and see if we can find some clouds, okay?”

“K,” she mumbled, and she felt him nuzzle her forehead with his scratchy chin.

“Smell that?” He lowered them to the earth with a soft grunt, her body draped across his lap.

“Do you smell the clovers, Kate? They’re blooming. Love these. White ones smell better than the crimson ones.”

She could smell them. The growing ground heat released the morning petrichor from last night’s rain - wet and sweet with a light floral perfume. 

“Smells nice,” she mumbled, and he gave her a praiseful squeeze in response.

“Bumblebees are louder than the damn birds. You hear em?”

He was purposefully engaging her senses, she realized. How did he know what to do?  Why couldn’t she remember? She was the one who had over forty of the damn things. New York rules: if at work, run to the restroom, hide in the stall, and endlessly flush the toilet to cover sounds of crying and panting.  Fucking useless skills in this situation.

He considered the sky for a moment and then smiled down at her face, “look up Kate.”

She tilted her head back, neck cradled in the crook of his arm, and saw the sky bluer than it had a right to be. To the east, she spotted a big bouncy cumulonimbus tower with a bulbous bottom layer. 

“What are you seeing?”

“Mammatus,” she whispered.

He chuckled happily, “yep. What else?”

She watched them move for a moment, a gorgeous slow roll. Her eyes caught another edge of the sky, and she lifted her heavy arm, which felt weirdly unattached. She wiggled her fingers. They did what she told them, so they must be hers. Raising her thumb to the sky, she measured a cloud.

“What time is it?” She croaked, throat dry, her voice slightly foreign to her.

He raised his wrist, “let’s see, it’s uh nine fifteen am.”

“Altocumulus.”

“Damn straight, altocumulus. Beautiful, huh?”

“Beautiful,” she agreed. She knew they were beautiful, but she didn’t actually feel the beauty.

He shifted her off of his lap, arm still curved under her neck and tentatively lowered them both to the soft bed of green clovers, “better vantage.” 

She barely noticed, following the white clouds with her eyes like a meditation.

After a few moments, he pointed at the sky, “dragon.”

She followed his finger and spotted the dragon in the clouds, “I see it.”

She pointed next to it, closing one eye to better focus her vision, “banana.”

“Yup.”

The dragon’s torso elongated and detached, and its head resembled a dot to a dot from her childhood activity books.

Tyler pointed at the dissipating dragon head, “oatmeal.”

“Cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. It’s oatmeal. Oh, oh, wait, no, now it’s grits.”

She smiled - the impulse natural, the action dull and stiff.  She only heard birds tweeting, Tyler’s soft breathing, and an occasional bee buzzing by. 

This was when she realized that she wasn’t panting, crying or hallucinating. She felt slowed like moving through water, and a debilitating mix of shame, embarrassment, and guilt settled within her chest.

“We should go,” she frowned and tried to sit up, seized by dizziness.

“Should we?” Tyler sat up and placed his hand on the middle of her back. She pulled away with none of the subtlety she intended. 

“We were supposed to meet up at that QT off seventy-five ages ago Tyler.”  Look at Kate, stringing a full coherent sentence together.

“I called Boone. Remember? Told everyone to meet us at your mom’s.”

When did that happen? Tyler’s face telegraphed that she should easily recall this memory, and she hadn’t even a hazy version floating around in her mind. Nothing.

“Oh,” she said dumbly.  “Sorry.”

“For what?” He asked, cupping her elbow with his hand. 

“Don’t,” she pulled her arm from him.

“Okay,” he scooched himself back a bit with a kindness she interpreted as pity. 

“Sorry,” she snapped, knowing she sounded irrationally angry, but completely unable to control her tone.

“S’okay Kate,” he folded his elbows over his knees and picked a white clover flower, spinning it between his index and thumb. 

She lay flat on her back so she could again stare at the sky and not his sweet ridiculously understanding expression.

“It’s not okay. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Not your fault.”

“It really is,” she glanced at him.

He cocked his head, “a panic attack isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not that.”

He tentatively lowered himself alongside her, giving her more space than she now actually wanted. A moment ago she felt too ashamed to have his hands on her, and now she wanted to climb inside him and disappear.  Make up your mind, Kate.

After a bit of silence, he asked, “your friends? Is that what you think is your fault.”

“That was my fault,” she scoffed. “It’s pretty well universally agreed that they died as a consequence of my reckless actions.”

“Who the fuck would agree with that?” His outraged tone astonished her. She found it unnatural to see the fire in his eyes presenting as fury instead of desire. “Someone blame you for what happened? Who?”

Instinctually, she tempered his anger with vague assurances, “it doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. My point was that I don’t need you to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. Can’t change it anyway.” 

He sighed audibly, “I know you’re freakishly good at finding tornadoes, honey, but you don’t got dominion over ‘em. Got some omnipotent power I’m unaware of?”

They quieted, and she tried to not mentally replay her panic attack in a feeble attempt to avoid a self-conscious rut.

“It’s just so beyond fucking humiliating.”

Surprise flashed in his expression, “but, Kate, it’s just me.”

She couldn’t look at his face, so she looked at the sky again, “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“Beautiful and brave?”

“I’m not sure I’m either of those things at the moment.”

“This is grief and trauma and your body reacting to that.”

“It’s been almost six years!”

“Not a set time for this shit, Kate. So just try to be gentle with yourself, will ya?”

She reached for his hand, grasping at his rough fingertips.

“Hasn’t happened in so long. Just surprised me.

“Do you know what happened?”

“I, um, I saw them. In the truck.”

“Saw who?”

She blinked and tried to say their names.

Tyler filled in the blanks like he majored in it, “oh, Addy and Praveen?”

She nodded.

“Jeb too?” 

Their names sounded wrong in his mouth, but she drew comfort from his familiarity with what mattered to her.  They mattered.

“Mmhm.”

“I figured.”

“You figured?”

“Yeah.”

She almost laughed, incredulous, “you FIGURED that I hallucinated my very dead friends sitting in the backseat of your truck?”

He smirked, “Something along those lines. My brother, he had panic attacks. PTSD from Afganistan.”

“I didn’t know that; you never talk about him.”

“We don’t see each other much; he lives in Idaho. I was only ten when he came back. Brain injury from an IED. I sat with him a lot during his panic attacks.”

She mentally conjured an image of child-Tyler, “that’s an awful lot for a ten-year-old.”

He winked, “well, I was an exceptional kid.”

“I bet you were,” she smiled genuinely, her face now just a foot from his.

“Once we figured out most of his triggers, that helped loads.”

“I think it was the barbecue.”

“What?

“Barbecue.  My mom, when she called, she offered for the team to stay over and said she’d make barbecue, and she said the same thing the day they died,” her speech gradually took on a frenetic pace, “and just like I was on automatic, I started to tell them, Praveen and Addy, you know, and they were there, and then it was happening all over again, and you know the shittiest thing? It’s that really here I am, and they’re not. And did I learn anything, no, I’m just doing it all over again really, just in a truck with you, taking people I care about to their deaths and am I doing the same thing, did I learn a fucking thing? No, no, I just keep doing what I want to do because I’m so goddamned selfish and -“ 

Her chin started to quiver, and she became breathless again when Tyler interrupted, “you’re the least selfish person I know.”

He brushed her hair back from her face, “also the most logical, so listen up: the team was here doin’ our thing before you met us. We’d be here if we’d NEVER met you. But Kate, with you, we just do more good, get more accomplished and generally have more fun. All because YOU are with us.”

Her eyes began leaking again, and she whispered, “want you to be okay.”

“Me? I’m here, next to you, on this gorgeous day. Kate, I’m better than okay.”

  With the shuddering breaths of a child all cried out, “I’m so fucking scared. I just. I don’t want. I don’t want you to die.”

She couldn’t fathom why she would say this out loud, when she barely recognized the truth herself. She felt pathetic and vulnerable, a combination she attempted to avoid at all times.

  “Oh Kate, darlin’ I’m not going anyplace.” He smiled his sweet little smile, soft wet eyes pleading with her, “thought I told you to be gentle to yourself.” 

She leaned her face into his hand, and inched closer to his chest. Tyler wrapped his arms around her pulling her flush against him.  She buried her head in his chest and wept, grateful he didn’t shush her. They let the tears and the little hiccups fade in their own time, his hand tenderly holding her head against him.  Her body relaxed into him, and she didn’t feel out of control. Just absolutely fucking heartbroken and so incredibly exhausted. 

She didn’t remember falling asleep; all she knew was awaking sweaty and confused within Tyler’s embrace.  

“I fell asleep.”

His voice was deep and rumbly, “sure did.”

She rolled onto her back, studying the grey sky, the sun’s blanketed halo in a confusing position.

“Jesus, what time is it?”

“One O’clock.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine Kate.” 

“It’s fine?”

She peered up at his ridiculously handsome face, “where’s the team?”

“Remember, they’re at your moms?  I texted them to meet us there.”

“Are they angry? That we missed an entire day?”

“No one expressed anything other than being thrilled to go to your mom’s house.  Everything fizzled out anyway.”

“Do they know? That I…?”

“Hm? Oh, no. That’s your call to make.”

She kissed his jaw and he peered down at her, “okay?”

She answered him by climbing onto his lap, straddling him. He sat up, clutching her, thumbs rolling around her hipbones.

“Feelin’ better, honey?” 

“I don’t know,” she responded honestly. “I don’t want to think about it right now. Just so tired.”

She brushed her thumbs along the grey hairs at his temples and kissed him slowly, stilling her mind to focus only on his soft salty mouth.

He ended the kiss after a moment and pulled his face back, examining her expression.

“What?”

“Just catching up,” he whispered.

“What does that mean? You don’t want to -“

“I want you now and always,” he pulled her hips tightly into his hard-on to punctuate his point. “Just checking in first.”

He captured her mouth with his, asserting his desire, and they made love in that clover field, just as Kate had predicted at the beginning of this unexpectedly fraught day.

A comfort-cloaked drive to her mom’s house further eased any remaining anxiety. Tyler played Songs: Ohia, Magnolia Electric Co, (for her, she knew) the windows down and warm air whipping her hair around as they distanced themselves from the morning’s pain.

When they approached the signs for her hometown, she turned down the music, “Tyler?” 

Her voice hitched, and she swallowed down tears that threatened a comeback.

“Yeah?”

She summoned all her sincerity, “thank you.”

“Anytime, Sapulpa,” he smiled, “You know that, right? Anytime. Anyplace. Whatever you need. Whenever. I’m all yours.”

She ran her hand lovingly down his arm, shoulder to wrist, “ditto.”

When they pulled up to a stop in the driveway, the sun rested low in the sky.  Besides daybreak, this was Kate’s favorite time of day, even as a child. All the work usually done, the day’s heat assuaged, dog-day cicadas quieted, and the sticky air would a call for iced sweet tea in jelly jars and unchallenging conversations on a creaky porch. 

Tyler and Kate walked together through the cool grass. As they approached the picnic table flush with their friends, everyone turned towards them like flowerheads to the sun.

“What kept ya?” Boone yelled as they got closer.

Tyler began to answer, but Kate cut him off neatly, “I had some trauma hallucinations, an enormous panic attack, passed out for hours and then seduced Tyler in a clover field.”

Tyler held up the grocery bag in his hand, “and we brought chips.”

She only let the awkward silence, shocked stares and open mouths sit for half a minute, “so, is there any of my mom’s potato salad left?”

Lily recovered quickly, “yeah, totally, Kate hand me one of those plates, and I’ll get you some.”

Kate passed her a plate, and Lily smiled as she scooped a generous glob, “sorry bout your panic attack. I got them for awhile back in the day. They suck. Hard.”

“They do. Thanks Lily,” Kate nodded grateful for the generous normalization Lily offered.

Dexter, adept at all types of navigating, added, “It's a good thing you got here when you did. I was going back in for another helping. Your mom could tempt angels with this potato salad.”

“Right?” Kate laughed, “where is she, anyway?”

“I think she was getting watermelon,” Dani said and jumped up from the table, “I’ll go help her. I gotta pee anyway.”

She quickly squeezed Kate’s arm affectionately as she passed and raised her eyebrows at Tyler when she sauntered passed.

“So tell me, what did this clover field seduction include?” Boone queried.

“It includes you shutting the fuck up,” Tyler’s voice was playful, but he shot Boone a disapproving look, as he pulled a plate from the stack and began piling on ribs, brisket and chicken drumsticks.

Boone raised his hands in surrender, “that’s fine, that’s fine. I’ve got an imagination.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “don’t be gross, Boone.”

“What?” he laughed, and with every passing moment, their usual ease of comradery returned. 

While she was conscious that evening, Tyler positioned his hand either upon her shoulder or entwined in her fingers, tethering her to the moments in front of her. At night, he settled in her bed, ready to pull her back should she start to slip into the past. 

He was generous, loving, kind, and patient. So, of course, she didn’t believe it could possibly last. She consciously tried not to stew in the terror of its inevitable end (their relationship, not his life, she isn’t thinking about that.) 

Instead, she attempted to soak in the (likely evanescent) Tyler minutiae: memorizing his specific expressions and predictable reactions, the dust and detergent smell of his soft flannels, his thin pink lips, his stiff jeans that invited lascivious thoughts, and that devastatingly infectious, nearly ever-present smile. 

**AUTHORS NOTES

I saw Twisters a couple weeks ago and came home and wrote this and three other stories. Then I went on AO3 and read EVERYTHING, and saw that others had written goddamned BRILLIANT pieces on the same subject. Discouraged about my own writing quality, I wasn’t going to post it. Since then, I’ve read nearly everything else posted in this fandom and realized that maybe creating and sharing imperfection is part of our fanfic social contract. This is writing potluck. As in, consume < create. In that spirit, here was one of my little fics. Hope it brought you a few minutes of the joy so many others bring me in their writings. 

[solxamber]

Hey there! This is just a request but could you please do an unhinged reader x Leona(romantic)? Like, menace to society, 0 self preservation skills with questionable morals that just keeps bugging Leona out of boredom.

I guess the genre would be crack and you can basically choose the details.

Thank you❤️

Leona Kingscholar x unhinged Reader

thank you for this, I had so much fun writing this <3

Leona wasn’t sure why the universe had cursed him like this. Of all the people in the world, why you? Why had you, a walking disaster with all the survival instincts of a toddler with scissors, decided to latch onto him? And why did he fall for you?

And it wasn’t even in a cute, lovesick-puppy way. No, you were like a chaotic gremlin that had crawled out of some alternate dimension just to make his life worse.

“Leona, watch this!” You stood precariously on the edge of a crumbling wall, grinning like you were about to unveil the world’s greatest invention.

Leona didn’t even bother lifting his head from his nap spot under the tree. He’d learned that reacting only made you more encouraged. “If you fall, I’m not catching you.”

“That’s fine, I’ll just bounce!” you chirped back.

Leona opened one eye, an eyebrow twitching in disbelief. “You’re not a ball.”

“Not with that attitude,” you shot back, then proceeded to leap from the wall like you had just discovered flight. Spoiler alert: you had not. Gravity, however, was very familiar with you.

You crashed to the ground in a flurry of limbs and dust, groaning dramatically.

Leona sighed and got up with the enthusiasm of a sloth being asked to run a marathon. “You good, or should I call someone with a stretcher?”

You waved him off from your spot on the ground, laughing despite the fact that you were very clearly in pain. “No worries! Just testing my limits. Next time, I’ll stick the landing.”

“There better not be a next time.” Leona rubbed his temples, wondering how his life had come to this. “You’ve got the brain of a rock, y’know that?”

“Rocks are strong!” you shot back, scrambling to your feet, dusting yourself off like you hadn’t just risked spinal damage for absolutely no reason.

Leona turned to walk away, muttering, “Great. I’m babysitting a suicidal pebble.”

But, of course, you followed him. You always followed him. It was like you’d made it your life’s mission to annoy him into an early grave. He wasn’t sure if it was boredom, insanity, or both.

“Where are we going?” you asked, bounding beside him like some overexcited puppy.

“We’re not going anywhere. I’m going somewhere. You’re going away.”

“But that’s boring,” you whined, clearly oblivious to any and all social cues. “You’re so lazy! Don’t you ever want to do something exciting?”

Leona stopped dead in his tracks and turned to glare at you. “I don’t want to do anything exciting. Ever. I want to nap in peace, without you pulling some stupid stunt every five minutes.”

You shrugged, unbothered. “Sounds like quitter talk. What if I found us something really fun to do?”

Leona gave you a deadpan look. “Fun by your standards means I’ll either end up in jail or hospitalized. No thanks.”

You grinned mischievously. “What if I told you I’ve got a plan to steal all of the fancy food from the Mostro Lounge? No one would even know it was us!”

Leona stared at you, trying to figure out how you’d come to this conclusion with a straight face. “We literally live in a dorm with a kitchen. If you want fancy food, just ask.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You waggled your eyebrows. “Come on, live a little! You’re a lion, aren’t you supposed to be all fierce and stuff? You should be excited to commit some petty crime.”

Leona pinched the bridge of his nose. “First of all, lions don’t do crime sprees. Second, stealing isn’t a hobby. And third, if you try something stupid, don’t expect me to bail you out.”

“Oh please,” you waved him off, smirking. “You’d totally bail me out. You love me.”

Leona narrowed his eyes at you, opening his mouth to argue, but then closed it. Damn it, you had a point. He would bail you out. Probably. Begrudgingly.

But he wasn’t going to admit that.

“I tolerate you,” he corrected, turning on his heel and continuing to walk away.

“Aww, that’s practically a love confession coming from you!” You sprinted after him, making ridiculous heart gestures in the air. “Leona Kingscholar, prince of sarcasm and naps, tolerates me. I’m honored.”

Leona groaned. He’d tried ignoring you, scaring you off, threatening you with bodily harm (all of which you’d laughed off). And somehow, despite his best efforts, you were still here. Still determined to bring chaos into his otherwise peaceful life.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one day,” Leona muttered as you fell into step beside him again. “And I’m not dragging your body out of trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You waved him off, clearly not listening. “So, what’s for dinner? And can I challenge Ruggie to a spoon duel?”

Leona sighed heavily. Why were you like this? And why, despite every instinct telling him to ditch you in the Savanna, did he kind of, sort of… not hate it?

Great. Now you were rotting his brain with your nonsense. Just what he needed.

At least life wasn’t boring anymore.

Masterlist

[absurdthirst]

His Happy Ending {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3k

Warnings: Flirty Dieter, propositioning a masseuse, full body massage, erections, skirting professionalism, dirty talk, cumming untouched, drug usage, getting high, sex while high, consent is sexy, oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, use of sex toys, switch Dieter, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, Dieter has issues, overreaction, accusations and irrational anger, angst, apologies, face riding

Comments: You are Dieter's on set masseuse, hired for the duration of the film to work the kinks out of the actor's sore body. Connecting and vibing with him, will Dieter get his happy ending?

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Signing an NDA was a routine part of your job, dealing with enough celebrities and studio executives that it has become a stand part of your contracts. This time though, you are excited. You’ve been hired to be Dieter Bravo’s personal masseuse on this film. The actor is apparently working through some back issues and because of your discreet reputation, the studio is paying you a lot of money to make sure the Oscar winner is always as relaxed as possible.

Dieter groans, his back aching as he comes off set and heads into his trailer. He knew this role would be physically demanding but he didn’t realize just how much his body would ache. The drugs and his middle age are taking a toll and he hates that he can’t spring back like he used to. He enters his trailer, his assistant behind him, and he is pleasantly surprised to find you waiting for him with your table set up. “Fuckkk yesss.” He groans in excitement. “I’m gonna shower and then I’ll be back out. Jesus, I hope you got a good kneed on you. My back is fucked.” He says and walks off into the small shower, his costume dropping on the floor on the way that his assistant picks up until he’s grimacing at the sweaty briefs he handles. “I will leave you to it. He won’t be long.” He tells you and leaves the trailer with the costume to take to the department to have it cleaned for the next shoot.

You hum to yourself, amused with his eagerness as you start to light the aromatherapy candles you have placed around the small trailer. It won’t take long to have it smelling in here, and you always believe that a relaxed atmosphere helps your clients relax and work out their knotted muscles better. When you are done, you set out the oils that he had chosen, or maybe his assistant had chosen, and wash your hands one last time so they aren’t cold when you start.

Dieter comes out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, and he groans at the soothing scent of the aromatherapy candles. "You know your shit." He compliments you and you turn around just as he drops the towel. "Where do you want me?" He flirts slightly, waggling his eyebrows.

You’ve been hit on a lot. Asked for ‘happy endings’ or what other services you provide. Most of the time it irritates you, but this is kind of the exception. You’ve been warned that Dieter will ask you to sleep with him. It’s just a part of his personality, but that he will and does take no for an answer. He’s not even hard and his flaccid cock is impressive enough that you know not many people would deny him. For a middle aged man, he looks incredibly in shape. “Um, on the table, face down.” You instruct. “Do you have any concentrated pain or just all over?” You ask, wanting to get a feel for what his needs are.

“My back and neck kill me. I used to do my own stunts back in the day, desperate to impress and make it big.” He scoffs at his younger self, “and now I’m paying for me.” He groans as he lays down on the table. He’s desperate to relax after a hectic filming schedule. Glad his agent thought to put this in his retainer.

“That’s where I will start.” You hum, picking up the warming oils and spreading some on your hands. “Let me know if I need to adjust how deep I’m going.” You tell him. “I’ll start with deep tissue and work you out. You’ll be ready to fall asleep when I’m done with you.”

Dieter smiles against the plush cushion as you tell him exactly what you are doing. He groans when your hands make contact with his skin. He’s been a little touch starved lately. He hisses when you start to kneed and you ask if he’s okay. “I’m good. Christ, your hands are magic.” He declares and you’ve barely even started on him.

You always enjoy when your clients enjoy themselves, it appeals to the people pleaser in you. Listening to his groans with a trained ear as you do a once over on his back, noting any particular spots that need concentrated attention.

“Oh shit. Right there.” Dieter says when you find a particularly tender spot that needs more attention. “Yes that’s iiiiiiittttt.” He hisses when you dig deep and his cock starts to stir at the way you work his body over.

You hum softly in acknowledgement, continuing to work that knot in his back, applying pressure until he hisses and then soothes it for a moment. You don’t want him to be too sore tomorrow, but he has a lot of tension in his back.

Dieter swears this is the best massage he’s ever had. “Fuck baby. You’re so good.” He compliments you breathlessly as he starts to relax under your touch. His cock hardening even more when you work the knots in his back like the expert you are.

You try not to talk to your clients unless they engage you, but Dieter’s commentary is not exactly talkative. You just hum softly, stopping to pour more of the warming oil into your hand to make sure you don’t pull at his skin. He has such a lovely back, you find yourself watching the muscles move as you work the knots out.

Dieter hisses when you find another knot until you work that out and start to move lower down his back. “So fucking good.” He slurs slightly as he practically melts into the table. Getting older sucks and he hates it, hates how he can’t jump around like he used to.

“That’s it.” You encourage softly. “Just relax.” You rub your thumbs along his spine and dip just below the sheet you had draped over his small and perfect ass to make sure he preserved some privacy.

Dieter groans, his fingers flexing by his side and you continue working his body until he’s relaxed and he’s hard. So fucking hard. You rub his legs and arms and ask him to turn over. “I, uh, I kinda - you offer happy endings?” He flirts as he shifts to turn over, the sheet around him tenting with his erection.

You’re actually tempted. And it surprises you as much as him asking that question dismays you. He had been on his best behavior but you remind yourself that he would ask to fuck anyone. “That’s impressive.” You admit. “But it would unprofessional.” You reach out to rub the muscles on his inner thigh, dangerously close to his erection.

Dieter bites his lip, never one to push, but you are gorgeous. He groans softly as you massage his thigh. “Unprofessional.” He murmurs, “I - you can say no. I understand no.” He promises, trying to suppress the moan when you kneed his sore muscles a little harder.

You like that he’s not pushing, it makes it even sexier as his cock twitches and tents the sheet over his hips. “Just relax.” You hum, aware that you could probably make him cum without even touching his cock if you massage the right areas as hard as he is.

He tries but his cock is throbbing with each motion of your hands. His cock twitching under the sheet and he knows you have noticed it. He groans when you massage his upper thighs, your hands so close to where he really needs you.

“Close your eyes.” You coo softly, watching his surprisingly long lashes flutter and you bite your lip. This is so beyond professional even if you haven’t broken any rules. Pressing your fingers to the v of his hips, you rub his pelvic muscles slowly.

Dieter closes his eyes, his fingers flexing and he clenches his fists as you rub his pelvis. Christ, he thinks you’re the best masseuse he’s ever had. He groans when you rub his skin a little deeper, his cock twitching again.

Your fingers continue to stroke, to press and massage as you move closer to the tented flesh. Dragging the sheet over the skin. “Almost done.” You murmur softly. “Are you going to be a good boy and cum?”

Your words send him over the edge. “Holy shitttt.” He hisses and his cock twitches as he cums, spurts of hot seed hitting his stomach and chest, flying in the air before they land while you hover over him.

You can’t believe that he just came. You don’t stop massaging him, just slowing your circles down and drifting away from his now overly sensitive cock to move down to his lower thighs. “Good boy.”

Dieter keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the way the orgasm takes over his body, helping him relax even more. Your cooed praise makes his stomach twist and you work on his legs as his cock softens against his belly. “Jesus H Christ and all twelve of his disciples.” Dieter murmurs in disbelief that he just came without you touching his cock. “They hired you, right? Like, full contract? Not one and done?”

You give a small chuckle as you pull your hands away, the massage complete. “I’m yours for the duration of filming.” You promise. “I’ll be here everyday, just in case you need me.”

“Thank fucking God.” Dieter says and he offers you a lazy smirk. “Gonna look forward to seeing you every day. What’s your name?” He asks and you tell him your name as you start to put your things away. “Beautiful.” He murmurs, his dark eyes taking in your face. “Thank you. That- I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

“Good.” You smile at him quickly before you look back down at your bag to make sure all your oils are put away before moving to snuff out the candles. “That’s what I want for you.”

He watches you blow out your candles and he smiles at you, enjoying the serenity of this moment. “Seriously, I think I’ll be calling you back every day.” He says and you nod, “that’s what I’m here for.”

**** 

“Fuckkkkk yessss.” Dieter groans as you kneed the knot in his back. Today was a particularly physical day and having this massage is making him forget about messing up his scene a few times. Your elbows work his stiffness and you’ve been coming to his trailer for the past two weeks. He hasn’t overstepped again and came but he’s gotten hard every time, lazily jerking off after you leave his trailer.

“You are extremely tense today.” You murmur. “Take a hot bath when you get back to your room. And smoke a little.” You know that Dieter smokes weed, and does a lot more, but he’s never been high around you since he doesn’t use when he’s filming. “It will do you some good.”

“I- shit - I don’t have any. Ran out and haven’t had a chance to get to a dispensary.” He confesses as you continue to work his back. “I have a pen you can use.” You offer, “it’s pretty strong.” Dieter groans, “you’re a fucking angel. Wanna come back to my place and get high with me? We can order food.”

You shouldn’t, you should drop the pen off and go home, but it’s a chance to hang out with Dieter Bravo and you selfishly want to take it. “That sounds good.” You nod. “I can bring my oils and give you a touch up while you relax?” You offer.

Dieter groans, “like I said…a fucking angel.” He hisses when your thumbs press into his spine and he lets you massage him with those magical hands of yours. “Keep going. I need - what kind of food do you like?” He asks you, eyes fluttering closed.

“Do you like Indian food?” You ask conversationally. “That or Chinese is my favorite.” You shrug. “Or really good Mexican.”

“Oooo, Indian food.” Dieter hums, “I love samosas and butter chicken. I’ll have my assistant order it. We can look at the menu when we get back to my place.” He declares, “we can get Chinese food next time.” He knows you’ll be hanging out with him again. He likes you. You vibe well with him, keep him calm and entertained.

You smirk to yourself at his bossy assumption but you don’t say anything. You like Dieter. He’s got an ego on him, but name one actor that doesn’t? He’s actually pretty polite one on one and he’s not asked you for anything else since that first massage. “Sounds good.” You hum, finishing the massage and patting his back like you’re prone to do when you’ve finished.

Dieter grunts as he gets off of the table, rolling his relaxed shoulders and ignoring his erection as he grabs his sweatpants to get dressed. "Get your stuff ready, you can follow me home." He winks at you and shoves his feet in his crocs.

You chuckle at his flirting and nod. “Let me just pack up the table, unless you just want to leave it here?” You ask him, knowing that he prefers his massages in his trailer because of his reaction to them.

“You can leave it here. You’re gonna be back tomorrow anyway.” He shrugs, grabbing his cardigan that has way too many holes in it but he doesn’t care. “You can always leave your stuff here. It’s locked after we leave.”

“Alright.” You agree, knowing that your table isn’t exactly easy to haul around, so it’s unlikely that it would be stolen. “I’ll follow you over? What car do you drive, I’m sure I’m in a different part of the parking lot.”

“I have an Audi.” He says, “it’s a space gray.” He recalls what the car salesman told him. He isn’t big into cars, he just wanted something comfortable. “Let’s go to my car and I’ll drive you to yours, make sure you’re safe.” He insists as he escorts you to the closest lot where the actors and producers and directors park.

It’s actually pretty sweet that Dieter is willing to drive you, being concerned with your safety. You sometimes get the feeling he doesn’t really think about others, although that could be because he’s so used to being catered to and having others worry about him. You admire the sleek and shiny car and bite your lip. “My car is over there.” You point across the large parking lot towards the back. “It’s a red Mazda.” 

Dieter doesn’t open the door for you but you can in his car and he quietly drives you to yours across the parking lot. “You don’t have to come back to mine if you don’t want to. Now’s your chance to back out. I know - I know most people don’t actually want to hang out with me.” He confesses, biting his lip.

You frown slightly, confused and wondering if he’s changed his mind. “I- I was looking forward to hanging out - if you wanted to.” You admit. “I think you’re pretty funny and I-” You don’t want to admit that you have been a fan or enjoy his slightly zany interviews so you just shrug. “If you want, I can just give you my pen for tonight? If you don’t want me to come over?”

Dieter’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, “no. I- I want you to come over.” He tells you, “I want you to come back to my place.” He doesn’t confess it, but he’s lonely. He hasn’t been able to have parties since he’s filming and no one hangs around him unless it’s to get something from him so he’s been alone. And slightly depressed. He wants company and you seem to make him happy. “Come back to my place.” He begs slightly, his lower lip sticking out.

“Okay.” You nod and smile when you look over at him as he looks at you with a surprisingly open and longing look. “Just don’t drive too fast, okay?” You tease. “I can’t afford too many tickets and I can’t flirt with a cop like you can to get out of it.” You had heard about Dieter dating one of the famous CHiPs officers after being pulled over and it had made you snort in amusement. A cop and Dieter Bravo seemed like an unlikely pair. 

Dieter chuckles, “I’ll drive slow, sweetheart.” He promises with a wink, “but I reckon you could flirt your way out of any ticket with that pretty smile of yours.” He promises, “and those tits.” With that, you shut the door and he chuckles at the way you playfully roll your eyes.

When you turn around to unlock your car, you can’t help but grin. Dieter likes your tits and for some reason, it feels like a compliment. You start the car and carefully pull out of the parking space, smiling when you see Dieter is waiting just down the row for you to follow him. Your pen is in the center console, not exactly the best spot for it, but you’re happy it’s there now, so you don’t have to go home to get it.

Dieter drives to his home in Sherman Oaks. It’s a distance from the studio but it’s worth it to be away from the craziness of Hollywood. His sanctuary and his club when he wants to have parties and his neighbors can’t complain because they are so far away from him. He clicks the remote to open his gate and you follow him in, parking behind him outside of his home.

Admiring his home, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. One weekend, you and a friend had done one of those ‘Home of the Stars’ tours on a whim and had been driven by Dieter’s house, but with the privacy fence and shrubbery, you had never actually seen it. “Wow.” You whistle as you climb out of your car, pen in hand. “Swanky, Bravo.” You compliment. “I bet you throw some cool parties here.”

“Oh I do.” He says, half boasting, half informing you. He knows his parties attract the wrong people to his life but he yearns for any kind of connection he can get. It’s lonely at the top. He punches in the code to open the front door, the alarm automatically disarming and he gestures for you to enter.

You walk in, taking in the space and while you can see that he obviously originally had a decorator, signs of Dieter’s personality are all over the large, open living room. You giggle slightly at the large oil painting of an orgy over the fireplace and smirk at him. “That’s an interesting conversation piece.”

“Painted it myself.” He reveals, smirking at the memory of that night that inspired the artwork. “You like it?” He asks and you giggle, “it’s…inspired.” You settle on that and he chuckles. “You want a drink?” He walks over to the bar, opening it to display the different bottles.

His bar selection is impressive and you lift a brow. “If you have good tequila, then I’m your girl.” You tease playfully. “Can I have it on the rocks with a bit of lime if you have it?”

“Coming right up, baby.” Dieter nods, “you wanna watch a movie?” He asks as he pours a heavy measure into a glass. “I wanna watch a movie. You pick. Then we can get high and order food.”

“Nothing that you’re in, of course.” You wait for him to nod his head and agree. “Okay, then.” You take his remote and turn the tv on, the thing massive on the other wall and it could be its own movie screen. Finding his streaming apps, your eyes widen. “Oh! I’ve been waiting for this one.” You turn to Dieter to see what he thinks.

“Fuck yes. It’s on my list too. Yes, baby. Good choice.” He compliments you and carries over your drinks after getting some ice and a lime slice. He groans as he kicks off his crocs and settles on the sofa beside you, handing you the drink after you hit play.

You notice that he’s not ordering food and you wonder if he normally has his assistant order. Opening your phone, you pick an Indian restaurant that will deliver and put in an online order with enough food for both of you and some other things to munch on if you get hungry when you're hitting the pen.

“You didn’t - shit. I was gonna order that but I don’t know how. My assistant usually does it. I’ll give you the money.” He grabs his phone and opens it, “what’s your number?” He asks and you tell him, knowing you can’t argue with him. He sends you the money and clinks his drink with yours. “You brought the pen?” He asks, wanting to get high after a stressful day.

“Absolutely.” You laugh as you pull the pen out of your pocket and waggle it at him “I’m glad I accidentally left it in my pocket the other day and stuck it in my console.” You flick the button on and let the coils warm up. “I like this mango berry aftertaste they put in the oil.”

“Oooo. I have pills too if that’s your thing. Acid as well. Just fresh out of weed.” He says, gesturing for you to take the first hit from the pen. The movie is starting but he’s so focused on watching you.

You take a hit, holding it in and passing the pen to Dieter as you exhale with a small sigh. “Your turn.” You hum, enjoying the almost instantaneous effects of the pen. “It’s good, probably my favorite.”

He takes the pen, clicking the button before he inhales deeply, loving how it immediately relaxes him. He exhales with a grin, handing you back the pen. “You know, I haven’t been this relaxed in forever. Your massages…they are the best.”

You grin and take another hit off the pen before you answer him. “I like giving you massages. You’re so vocal, always letting me know what you need and how good it feels.” You won’t even mention that you wonder if that’s how he acts in bed, vocal and needy. “Is it helping?” You ask, passing the pen back to him.

“Fuck yessss it is.” He groans when he takes another hit. “You’re like a damn angel. I fucking love your massages and your voice and - you have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.” He admits, biting his lip as his eyes flick back to the tv.

You hum, not wanting him to interpret your laugh of disbelief as you laughing at him. “Well, then I would have to say that I’m fucking honored.” You admit, smirking slightly as you reach over and take the pen out of his hands. “Being spank material is a high form of flattery.”

“Especially from me.” He says without humility. “I have models and actresses in my spank bank. But you…you’re all natural and fucking gorgeous and your hands - fucking heaven sent.” He groans at the memories. “Made me cum without even touching my cock. You’re a goddamn artist.” He declares, his dark eyes watching you.

“That was really sexy.” You admit, eyes flickering over to him and then back to the tv. “Erotic.” You pass him the pen back. “I absolutely went home and masturbated thinking about it. My NDA doesn’t say anything about having dirty thoughts about you.” You tease, winking at him and leaning back against the cushions. “You’re fucking hot and you know it.”

Dieter offers you a smirk, his head resting against the sofa cushion as he closes his eyes. “Hot but not long term material. Too fucked up. Too many mistakes. Too annoying.” He quotes just some of the things his exes had told him when they ended it. He opens his eyes and takes another hit off of the pen, handing it back to you. “So…you obviously don’t have a partner. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here…unless I’ve read you wrong.”

“No.” You scoff and shake your head. “You’d be so surprised how many people get pissed off when I tell them that I can’t tell them who I massaged or what kind of treatments they wanted.” You shrug. “My last boyfriend kept accusing me of cheating, so I dumped his ass and decided to just do my own thing for a while.” You look over at Dieter again seriously. “I don’t talk about my work, to anyone.” You promise.

“You’d make a hell of a lot off of TMZ.” He teases and nudges you, silently telling you he trusts you. “So you do offer happy endings?” He jokes, feeling the high creep over him, making him looser and more relaxed than he was after finishing his scenes for the day.

“I should slap you for that.” You scoff, rolling your head over to look at him before you grin. “But something tells me that would just make you even harder than you already get when I’m massaging you.” Biting your lip, you decide to go for it and roll over to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “What kind of happy ending are you wanting?”

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide and his hands want to grab your hips but he doesn’t, his fingers flexing while they hover over your skin. “Anything you’re willing to give me.” He answers honestly. “Just want you. To touch you. To have you touch me.”

“Yeah?” You roll your hips down, feeling the beginnings of him hardening underneath you. Your fingers slide into his hair and you hum. “I’ve imagined touching you. Being touched by you. Seeing if you’re as vocal when you fuck as you are on my table. If you’re submissive, or if you like to take what you want.”

“Jesus.” Dieter hisses as you grind down onto him. “Baby. I- can I touch you?” He pleads and you nod. He groans and his hands find your hips, squeezing them. “Fuck. I want you to make me moan. I want to make you moan. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

You lick your lips, smirking as you reach over and take the pen again. Drawing a deep puff off of it and holding it in your mouth before you lean in and press your lips to Dieter’s. Finding it so sexy when he moans as he opens his mouth for you to blow the air into his lungs. Sharing the hit with him.

His hands slide around to squeeze your ass while he blows the smoke back into your mouth. You both smile and his hand finds the back of your head, dragging you back to his face so he can press his lips to yours. His tongue slides into your mouth, his fingers digging into your flesh as he hardens beneath you.

This time, it’s you moaning, very pleased with the eager, demanding flicks of his tongue against yours. Making you cup his face in your hands as you grind down into his cock and your cunt clenches when you realize that he’s going to be inside you. That pretty cock of his will go for a ride.

Dieter’s hands slide under your shirt, pausing to give you a chance to push him away but when you don’t, he groans into your mouth and pulls back, dragging your shirt over your head. “Need you. Wanna see the tits I’ve been imagining for too damn long.”

You laugh at the slight pout in his voice, knowing that it’s been less than two weeks, but to Dieter that’s a lifetime. You let him toss the shirt away and let go of him long enough to unclip your bra and drag it down your arms.

“Oh my fucking Godddd.” Dieter groans when you toss your bra aside and he cups your tits, squeezing them to push them together. He surges forward to press his face into your tits, motorboating you.

You choke out a laugh, squealing at the silliness of the act and how much Dieter is enjoying himself. His hands are warm, larger and he squeezes your tits with just the right amount of harshness mixed with the obvious worship. “Dieter.” You moan when he starts to kiss along the tops of your tits and gasp when he draws a nipple into his mouth.

He feels like he’s on top of the world. The high hitting him and he is hungry for you. He bites down on your nipple, sucking on it to soothe it, and he closes his eyes. His hand finding your back, caressing your skin as his other hand squeezes your tit.

You moan again, enjoying the attention he is paying to your tits, always loving when a man spends the time to get you soaking wet. Your cunt clenches and you grind down on his hard length. “Your cock- I’ve imagined you fucking me after seeing it everyday.” You admit breathlessly.

Dieter pulls back to look at you, eyes blown wide from the drugs and the high he’s getting from touching you. “Yeah? You wanna sit on my cock, pretty girl? Wanna make yourself cum?” He coos, his hands resuming their squeezing of your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Wanna suck your cock first.” You enjoy giving blowjobs. Never finding it to be a chore when you want to be with the man and enjoying what makes them moan. “Will you let me suck your cock?”

“If I ever turn that offer down, you gotta get me to a doctor.” Dieter teases and you shift off of him. His heart pounds in his chest as you kneel on the floor and your fingers hook in his sweatpants. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, his cock flopping out against his stomach, hard and the head turning purple with arousal.

“Yep, you have a pretty cock.” You hum, settling between his spread thighs and sliding your hands up, enjoying the way his surprising light leg hair bristles against your hands. You are used to touching him like this and you smile when he moans, your fingers digging into the muscles you know are sore as you move higher. “I know sucking your cock is going to soak my panties.” You coo, wrapping your fingers around the thick base.

“Holy shit.” Dieter curses, watching you take his cock into your hand has him panting with need, twitching in your grip as you shuffle closer and your warm breath hits his aching skin. “I’m - I want to eat you out after you’re done with me.” He declares, his hands squeezing the cushions of the sofa beside you.

“If you want to.” You won’t demand it, it’s not any fun when someone begrudgingly returns the favor. “But right now, I want to blow your mind, and your cock.” You giggle at your pun and lean forward to take the dark head of his cock into your mouth eagerly.

Dieter groans, low and deep in his chest as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. “Fuck. Oh fuck me.” He hisses, his head dropping back until he lifts it, wanting to see you suck his cock. He will eat you out after, imagining what you taste like far too many times to not get what he wants tonight.

You don’t rush, taking your time to kick and suck as you stroke his cock, learning what he likes and what he loves from his sounds. It’s sloppy, your tongue dragging over every inch of him and you don’t skimp on making sure you make it wet and soft for him.

“Jesusssss.” Dieter hisses, watching you take his cock deeper and you are a goddamn goddess. Sucking and licking and you are dribbling down his cock to slick it up even more. He hasn’t had a blowjob this enthusiastic since he was in college. You’re doing this because you want to, not because of what he can get you. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, caressing your cheek.

You preen under the praise and lazily watch him under your lashes as you work his cock with your mother and hand. Your cunt is throbbing and your other hand slides down to unbutton your jeans and rub your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you want. Use me for your pleasure. Rub that pretty little clit for me. Can’t wait to suck on it. Can’t wait to see you cum for me.” He rambles, lost in the feel of your hot mouth. “You’re goddamn perfect. Oh shit. Knew you’d be fucking talented.”

You love when a man is vocal and when he praises you, it makes you go even harder. You hum and swallow with him deep in your throat, feeling him pulse and throb. “Ohhhh fuck.” Dieter moans, making you grin when he stretches his head back so you can see his gorgeously vulnerable throat.

“Fuck me. Your mouth- better than any fucking drug. Better than - so damn good. I’m gonna - I don’t want to cum down your throat if you don’t want it.” He warns you, knowing he isn’t going to last when you’ve been massaging him daily and he hasn’t cum since that first session with you.

“You can cum.” You hate pulling off his cock for even a second and you take him back in just as quickly as you get the words out. Bobbing your head and reaching down to carefully cradle his soft and full balls in your hand.

He groans when you roll his balls, loving the feeling and your mouth hollows around his cock. “Yes. Yes. Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m gonna - fuckkkkkk.” He practically wails as he cums, hit spurts hitting the back of your throat as he moans your name.

Honestly, you’re surprised that he even remembers your name and he continues to pulse down your throat. You swallow as much as you can but Dieter Bravo apparently produces gallons of cum when he has an orgasm. Moaning at the saltiness of him, missing it after so long without having sex.

Cum escapes your lips and slides down your chin and Dieter reacts fast, dragging you off of his cock and he drags you into his lap. His tongue quickly slides along your chin to lap up his cum that escaped your lips.

You gasp in surprise, not thinking that he would want to kiss you, let alone lick up his own spend. But you don’t mind it, finding it extremely hot and you turn your lips to his to kiss him again.

His tongue slides into your mouth, not caring about the taste of his cum, and his hands find your tits, squeezing them. “Wanna make you cum too before the food arrives.” His hand trails down your stomach to unzip your jeans. “Want these off.” He declares, shifting you to lay you down on his sofa.

You lift your hips so he can peel your jeans and panties down and you start to giggle. “Sorry I didn’t trim.” You snort. “I didn’t think I would have a movie star staring at my twat tonight.”

Dieter chuckles, tossing your jeans across the room. “Honey, if I ever complain about a full bush, check my goddamn temperature. Just call me Dieter the Explorer.” He waggles his eyebrows and pushes your legs apart, groans groaning as he gets a look at your soaked folds. “Pretty little pussy.” He murmurs and shifts onto his belly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your mound, inhaling your heady scent. “Fucking delicious.” He declares and surges forward to flatten his tongue through your folds.

You can now say you’ve had an Oscar winner eat your cunt. You groan and giggle at the same time, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his curls and your hips push up. His tongue is surprisingly soft and yet he flicks it like a fucking champ against your clit. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, eyes closing in pleasure. “You can do this anytime you want.” You pant out.

Dieter pushes your thighs back towards your stomach, wanting to access more of your flesh. His tongue flicks over your clit then he slides his tongue down to push into your dripping wet cunt. A low groan smothered into your flesh as you tug on his locks.

You love the way he is eagerly lapping at your cunt, his moans into your flesh intoxicating as you pull on his hair again. “So good baby, you’re such a good boy.” You coo. “You like eating my pussy? Feeling how wet I am for you?”

Dieter whines into your folds, nodding hard enough that his nose rubs your clit. He pulls back for a second, “fucking love it.” He confesses, his hands caressing your thighs. He loves the way you’re practically dripping down his chin, your moans hitting his ears loud enough to make his spent cock start to stir again as he presses it against the sofa.

He dives back into you and doesn’t stop. Licking and sucking like his only mission is to make you cum. You whimper starts to build when you feel yourself starting to get close. “Oh fuck baby, I’m gonna cum. That tongue of yours is going to make me cum.” You pant, grinding down onto his face. “Oh fuck! Dieter!” You cry out when your body starts to buck, cumming hard.”

He loves working you through it. His tongue lapping up every drop of cum from your weeping cunt, loving the way you cry out and he grips your hips. He tries to keep you still while he laps at your folds, working you through your orgasm.

Your body shakes and when you finally can’t take any more, you are squirming away. “Dieter - Dee- Deeeeee, please.” You beg, trying to close your legs to get away from the sweet torment. When he finally relents, you sag into the couch. “Holy fuck.”

He licks his lips and grins, cocky from the way you slump down in bliss and he caresses your thighs. “Beautiful.” He murmurs, shifting back from you and he reaches for your underwear. “Food will be here soon, babe.” He reminds you, sliding your underwear back up your legs before he tucks himself back into his pants.

“Godddd it’s gonna be so good.” You moan, reaching over for the pen again. “I feel amazing. Like completely relaxed.” You huff out a laugh. “But it’s the first time someone else has made me cum in a long time, so I’m due.”

Dieter is curious by nature. “How long has it been for you?” He asks, shifting to sit back against the sofa and taking the pen from you after you’ve taken a drag.

You look up at the ceiling, intrigued to find a very modern hexagonal pattern in the lattice between beams. It’s a nice design touch. Adding up the time, you snort. “Fuck- four years?” You guess. “Give or take a few months.”

Dieter’s eyes widen, “four - four years? Like 48 months without sex? Honey, I lose my mind if I go 48 hours without an orgasm.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “How - you’re goddamn gorgeous. You should be overwhelmed with people wanting to fuck you.”

You snort. “No, I've had an orgasm every day.” You promise him. “I just have to do it myself.” You shrug. “It’s been about two years since my last boyfriend and that fucker never made me cum.”

"Dumbass." Dieter scoffs, "taste so sweet when you cum." He blushes slightly just as the doorbell rings. "Food is here! Would you mind getting it? Saves on the 'oh my God you're Dieter Bravo’ bullshit."

You snicker and nod, reaching for his oversized t-shirt and slipping it on. “Of course, baby.” You coo before walking to the door and sashaying your hips provocatively so he can watch your ass.

He bites his lip as he watches you sway your hips. “So fucking gorgeous.” He mutters to himself as you thank the driver and take the food. He shuffles off of the sofa and walks into the kitchen, grabbing the plates he only ever uses for food he orders or gets given by other people.

You bring the food back over to the coffee table and grin when Dieter walks back in. “I ordered extra samosas.” You inform him. “I’m starving and they are soooooo good.”

"I like the way you think." Dieter winks and hands you the plate and silverware. "I'm starving." He groans at the smell and you begin to unwrap the food. "Filming really takes it out of me. All I want after is an orgasm, food, and sleep."

“Sounds like the perfect ending to any day.” You laugh and take the plates from him so you can dish up the dinner. “Although an orgasm is normally my last thing before I fall asleep.”

Dieter chuckles, “the best fucking sleep, right?” He says and you nod, dishing up your food. Dieter follows suit, dishing up his own food, piling the plate high but not as much as he used to do. He used to be able to eat way more but his metabolism has slowed down as he’s gotten older.

You sit down, folding your legs under you and pick up a samosa. “So what made you want to be an actor?” You ask, always curious and now you are getting to hang out with Dieter. “You’re obviously good at it, but what was the driving factor for you?” You take a bite of the food and moan, rolling your eyes at how good it is.

He sighs, “my mama brought me here from Chile when I was a kid. She was single. Had to work like three jobs just to pay the rent. She found an ad for a kid needed for a commercial. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to have me audition. So I went and got the gig and it went on from there. I have been acting since I was nine and it’s all I’ve ever known.”

“Oh.” You frown slightly, feeling bad for him because he didn’t have a choice. “You ever think about retiring? Doing something else?” You ask, feeling like you are prying now.

Dieter shrugs, “maybe one day. I like painting. Maybe try writing or directing. I know my days are numbered until I’m getting the ‘father of the bride’ roles.” He snorts, “every day I’m getting grayer.”

You scoff. “You’re still sexy. Haven’t you heard?” You ask, waggling your brows. “Older men are sexier longer now.”

Dieter snorts, “yeah. Until they see the back pain, the hairs growing out of my ears, and how I have to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.”

You laugh and wave around a piece of butter chicken on your fork. “News flash, I have to get up in the middle of the night to pee.” You tell him. “And women get chin hair starting to grow, hell, I pluck a hair off my cheek every few days.” You snort. “And nipple hair.”

Dieter’s eyes widen, “nipple hair sounds kinda hot. I won’t lie.” He confesses, picking up the samosa to take a bite. “So why are you single? Got some skeletons in your closet?” He teases, “or is everyone a fucking blind dumbass?”

You chuckle at his theory that nipple hair is sexy and shrug. “Never really go out, too busy working.” You name off a few of the reasons. “And it seems like every time I go to a club, the men are just either looking for some bombshell ditz to hang off their arm or so full of themselves that I trip over their egos.”

Dieter rolls his eyes, “men are morons. Women are definitely smarter. I mean, I know how men operate. That’s why I like fucking men too. Less complicated, but women…when you find a delicious woman who is gorgeous and sweet. Can’t beat it. I consider myself lucky that I have you tonight.” He winks and rips off some naan, handing a large piece over to you.

You hum and take the bread from him. “I’m lucky.” You argue slightly. “You’re fucking amazing, doesn’t matter that you’re Dieter Bravo.” He looks surprised, but you continue on. “You’ve had an amazing life, yes, but you’re cool. You’re a lot chiller than people would expect and you’re a talented artist.” You point to the painting on his wall.

Dieter blushes, “thank you, sugar tits.” He says, unable to be too serious, and he winks at you. “Appreciate the praise. Genuine praise. I hate being sucked up to by fake fuckers.” He confesses, taking another bite of the naan with the sauce. “Anyway, I wanna talk about us. What do you want to do after this? I wanna fuck you but if you’re not cool with that, I have some gummies and popcorn and we can chill.”

“And miss out on experiencing that gorgeous dick of yours inside me?” You snort, rolling your eyes. “Baby, I’m high, not stupid.”

Dieter chuckles, “well then, eat up. You’ll need your energy for me to fuck you because I am not letting you out of my bed…unless you want to leave.” He adds. Dieter is all about consent and making sure everyone is enjoying themselves.

You laugh like what he’s said is hilarious and fork up another bite of the chicken and hold it out for him to have. “You need to eat too, old man.” You tease. “I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.”

“Promises, promises.” He teases and takes another bite of his butter chicken. “I am gonna hold you to that.” He nudges you as the movie you put on continues to play. He doesn’t care about that now. Too busy focusing on you.

“When was your last physical?” You ask. “I’m- I’ve not been with someone in a long time and if you’re clean….” You shrug. “I have an IUD but I understand if you want to use a condom. I would in your situation. Never know when some crazy bitch is gonna try to baby trap you.”

He nods, “oh trust me. It wasn’t reported but that’s happened a couple of times. I always use protection but you…I trust you. I am clean. I got tested last month and I haven’t been with anyone…too busy filming. I never get too crazy when I’m filming. I trust you. I want to cum inside of you.” He says, his dark eyes meeting yours.

You somehow doubt that Dieter doesn’t get crazy, although he seems like he’s changed since that Cliff Beasts 6 debacle. You shiver slightly at the raw want in his tone and imagine that he likes to play with his cum once he’s filled a partner. “Then I want to feel every raw inch of your cock driving into me.”

He groans, food forgotten. He was nearly finished anyway. He sets his plate down and reaches down to squeeze his hardening cock through his sweats. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.” He whispers, eyes wide as he looks at you in awe.

“And you’re a horn dog.” You tease, setting your own plate down and pulling his shirt over your head to toss it off and pick up the pen. “I’m going to find your room so I can get fucked in your bed.” You tease, swaying your hips as you stroll towards the stairs. “Come get me.”

Dieter grins, shoving his sweats down his legs after he stands up from the sofa. He looks back at the food, not caring if it’s left, he just wants you. He chases you up the stairs, a little slower than he used to use up them, especially after food. He finds you in his room, already spread out on the bed and the pen in your hand. “Wanna paint this. Paint you.” He admits as he wraps his fingers around his cock, slowly jerking his length as he hardens while eying your tits.

“Maybe I’ll pose for you.” You inhale another hit and smile lazily as you blow it out. “Do you want the painting to have my cunt cum filled or waiting to be fucked?” You ask, spreading your legs and showing him your wet folds.

“Definitely cum filled. Like a Twinkie.” He says seriously, making you giggle. He steps closer to the bed, kneeling on the edge and he reaches for the pen. “You ready for me, or you need me to finger that tight little hole?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.

“Fuck.” You groan, reaching up and squeezing your tit as you watch him take another hit. You will have to replace the cartridge but tonight is worth it. “You have such fucking big hands.” You bite your lip. “But I’m going to want you inside me right now.” You admit. “Might want to feel it tomorrow if you fuck me right.”

“Then it will be me giving you a massage.” He says as he waggles his eyebrows and tosses the pen onto his nightstand. He pushes your thighs apart a little more so he can kneel between them, gripping his cock. He slides the head between your folds, loving the way you moan for him when he nudges your clit, then he slides his cock lower and starts to push into you.

Your mouth drops open and it’s a struggle to keep your eyes from rolling back as he starts to slide inside of you. Feeling better than any toy you’ve used in the past couple of years and stretching you out deliciously. “Oh fuck, Dieter.” You moan, hand drifting up to his shoulder. “You- fuck, you feel so good. That dick is- fuck.” Your walls clench down around him and you giggle when he curses.

His hands trail along your waist as he pushes into you until he’s fully inside of your hot, wet cunt. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, his hands squeezing your tits as he looks down at you. “Like a goddamn velvet glove.” He murmurs, exhaling shakily to try and control himself.

You whine at his filthy praise, loving how raspy he gets as he grinds into you even more and lets you adjust. You bring your leg up to drape over his hip and it sends him deeper inside you. “Fuck, your cock is huge.” You moan. “I can feel you in my stomach.”

He shifts to rest his weight on his elbows, rocking into you with a groan. “Cos you’re so tight.” He hisses as you rock your hips up to meet his. “So fucking good. Squeezing me already.” He pants, leaning down to kiss along your neck.

You had heard that Dieter was a good lover, maybe a bit selfish, but you are enjoying yourself. The relaxed pace is almost lethargic and yet you love every second of it. It’s almost like he’s making love to you but you don’t think of it that way. This is just a slow, sedate way to learn from each other and enjoy the sex.

​​He inhales the scent of your perfume mixed with the heady scent of the pen you’ve been smoking. The high curls around you both as he pushes into you. He grabs your other thigh, lifting it higher so he sinks impossibly deeper inside of you.

Moaning becomes like breathing, every time you feel him rock in and out of you, another one comes out. Your hands stroke up and down his back as he moves, sometimes pushing deep and massaging a particularly troublesome spot on his back.

“Goddamn.” He hisses when you massage his back. Your talented hands makes him feral. He wants to feel you cum around him. He lowers his hips, grinding into you, trying to find the spot that makes you cry out.

You squeal when he pushes deep and your entire body jerks in pleasure. “Oh fuck!” You moan, scratching his back accidentally. “That’s- fuck, that’s so good.”

He repeats the action, wanting you to cum for him. The pleased look on your face makes him twitch inside of you. “There?” He asks and you nod, your hands sliding down to his ass to push him deeper. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Want you to cum for me.”

There is something about sex while you are high that is just amazing. You feel everything so much more vividly, or at least you think you do. Your entire body is relaxed and maybe that helps you not worry about cumming, you aren’t thinking about anything but the way he feels inside you. “So good, so deep.” You whine, kissing along his shoulder.

He hisses when you playfully nip at his skin. “That’s it. Jesus, so good. Want you to cum for me.” He repeats, desperate to feel you soak his cock. His hips adjust again, pressing his pelvis to your clit to add friction.

It doesn’t take much longer at that angle for him to make you cum. One more thrust after your body twitches sends you over the edge with a loud moan of his name. “Deeeeeiter.” You cry, cunt spasming around his cock in an intense orgasm that spirals pleasure through your core.

He grunts when you clench down around his length, making him hiss your name. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He pants, working you through it even with you squeezing him like a vice. He pulls out of you after you relax beneath him, wanting to make this last. “Hands and knees.” He orders, gently slapping your thigh.

You whine, reluctant to flip over but you do. Head down on the bed and you wiggle your ass at Dieter. “Are you going to cum?” You ask breathlessly.

“Going to but I want to watch your ass jiggle before I make you cum again. Then I’ll cum.” He promises, pumping his cock. He shuffles closer and notches his cock at your entrance, pushing into you with a groan.

You grunt in pleasure, eyes slipping closed and you could lay right like this for the rest of the night with his cock pumping into you. It actually sounds like heaven. “Fuck. You feel even bigger like this.”

He caresses your back as you stretch out and he slides his hand down to smack your ass. “Feel so fucking good.” He groans, pushing into you.

You cry out softly, enjoying the slight sting. “Again.” You gasp out. “Slap my ass again, baby, please.”

He repeats the action again, loving the way you cry out his name and your walls flutter around him. “Good girl.” He coos, “taking me so well.” He praises you and caresses your back.

Your fingers twist into his silk sheets and you push back against his thrusts, wanting to make sure he also enjoys himself after making you cum so hard.

“That’s it. Shit. Squeezing me like - fuck. So good.” He moans, his jaw dropping and his earring swings against his earlobe as he picks up the pace. “Jesus.” He hisses, “so wet.”

You moan softly, pushing back against him again and squeezing him tight when you clench. You love that he is so unabashed in his love of sex. Of the physicality of it. “Cum for me baby.” You gasp out. “Fill me up.”

“No. No. Want - need you to cum again.” He pleads, snaking his hand beneath you to find your clit. He desperately wants you to cum for him. He needs you to clench down on his cock then he will fill you up.

You moan, eyes rolling back as his thick fingers find your swollen clit and he begins to rub frantic circles around it. Almost too rough to feel good, your body responds to it anyway, keyed up from the previous orgasms and your entire body lurches in pleasure as you shout.

His eyes roll into the back of his head as he pushes deep into you while you clamp down around his cock. His fingers rubbing your clit for a little longer to extend your orgasm before it becomes too much for him. He groans, dropping his hand from your pussy to grab your hips, keeping you still and upright as he thrusts into you. His jaw is clenched, grunts escaping his lips as he seeks his own orgasm and after a half dozen thrusts, it happens. He pants, jaw open as the climax hits him and he paints your walls with his hot cum. “Fuckkkkk” escapes his lips in a low and long groan.

The heat of his spend fills you, making you moan as he pumps wave after wave of his cum into you. Painting your walls like he had painted the orgy downstairs. “Oh god.” You whimper, eyes rolling back. “That - you’re so good baby, so fucking good.”

He grunts, working himself through his orgasm until he slumps over you. Cock twitching still inside of you, he kisses along your skin and moans your name softly. “Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, “so fucking perfect.” He sighs as he fully relaxes for the first time in forever. Between your massage, the weed, and your pussy, he’s ready for bed.

“Yes, you are.” You tease, giggling slightly as you are sprawled under him. Pretty soon you will have to go home, although you’ve smoked more than you should and will have to call an Uber. “God, I feel so relaxed.” You hum. “I’m going to go right to bed when I get home.”

"Stay." Dieter murmurs, exhausted and he doesn't want you to go. "Stay with me and you can leave in the morning. I- I don't want to be alone." He confesses, "don't- I don't want to be alone."

Your heart melts and you sigh softly, wishing you could reach back and stroke his back or hair. “I’ll stay.” You promise. “I’ll stay with you. You don’t have to be alone.”

He kisses your back, knowing he shouldn't get too attached but this is what he does. He latches on until the person pushes him away and ultimately leaves him. You will do that too so he will take what he can get. He sighs and pulls out of you, shuffling off of the bed to grab the rags he has prepared in the nightstand. He hands it to you and you snort when you see the towel. "You had 'Dieter's Cum' engraved on your towels?" You ask and he chuckles, "I got too much money."

“Yes, you do.” You laugh as you clean up and look around for a basket to toss it in. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” You ask. “Need to pee after you destroyed my insides,” you tease.

Dieter chuckles and flops down on his bed, pushing his hair back from his face as he relaxes into his plush mattress. "Fuck me." He murmurs to himself, knowing he wants this to become a regular occurrence. 

You laugh as you disappear into the doorway that you hope is his en-suite. “I just did.” You throw over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re ready for round two?”

He shakes his head, "too old for that. Maybe ten years ago, I'd be getting it up for you again." He calls out and closes his eyes, folding his arms behind his bed.

His bathroom is massive and stunning in a modern way. The bathtub makes you moan, imagining riding Dieter in it or just soaking. You go to the bathroom and smirk when you see that Dieter is already asleep. You pick up his t-shirt and slip it on before leaving the room. You had left the food in the living room and it needs to be put away.

Dieter is out when you come back into his room, and you slide under his expensive duvet, passing out not long after you get settled. You curl around him in your sleep and he sighs as he breathes you in, at peace. 

**** 

“Holy fucking shit, that’s it right there, baby!” Dieter groans loud enough that the entire lot hears him. His groan is caused by your talented hands and he hisses when you dig the palms of your hands into his muscles.

You laugh quietly, amused by his reaction, but you target that spot. It’s tense and you want to tell Dieter that he needs to find a good chiropractor as well. Not that you don’t love massaging him everyday, but you can tell that his back is in need of a good adjustment. “That good, baby?” Your use of the affection is much quieter, aware that Dieter wouldn’t want it known that he was fucking his masseuse.

"Soooo fucking good." He groans, "so fucking good." He repeats as you work his sore back. You've been massaging him for a couple of months now, sleeping with him for nearly as long and he hasn't even thought about going with another person. You hang out with him in the evenings, coming to his home, and eating dinner with him. "You want - fuck - Chinese food tonight?" He asks you.

You hum, knowing that he has another scene he has to get in the can tonight. “You’re going to be later.” You remind him. “What if….how do you feel about your maid letting me in and I cook?” You have been dreaming of cooking in his kitchen, but haven’t wanted to overstep. “If you want me to wait for you, I understand.”

Dieter raises his eyebrows at the thought of a home cooked meal. "Sounds good to me, honeybuns. You cook what you want. Use my card to buy the shit." He orders and groans when you push on his lower back. He got you a card to use for the food delivery. He trusts you, knowing you wouldn't risk your job in this town.

“My treat.” You insist, knowing that Dieter is used to others using him and casually insisting on him paying, but since the first night, he’s not let you pay for a meal. You can fix him one meal and pay for the ingredients. “You can come home and relax.” You promise. “Dinner will be waiting.” Your grin, which he can’t see, is teasing. “Maybe another massage in your future.”

“With a happy ending?” He asks, eyes hopeful as he lifts his head to look at you. “With a guaranteed happy ending.” You promise and he grins, “that’s why I fucking love you.” He says offhandedly, groaning when you dig your fists into his back.

Your eyes widen slightly and you try not to read anything into it. Dieter is affectionate and cuddly, but you know he doesn’t mean it. You just stay quiet and continue to work his back over. “Do you want me to spend the night?” You’ve started carrying an overnight bag in your car everyday.

“Of course.” He snorts as he stares at the carpet of his trailer. “Wanna try that new toy on you. The one I ordered last week?” He smirks, cock twitching at the thought of seeing it inside of you

You have been so surprised by the sexual exploration. You had imagined that he’s seen it all and done it all, but there are always new ways for him to make sex fun. “That sounds good.” You hum. “I’ll go over after I get done with you here and pick up the groceries.”

“Sounds good, baby.” He sighs, closing his eyes. He’s honestly never been more relaxed in both body and mind. You’ve proven to be the secret weapon in him channeling the role to provide the director with the performance of a lifetime.

**** 

“Fuck….Deeeeee.” You squirm, wanting to close your thighs but it would just add to the sensation. “It’s- it’s not as good as your cock.” You whine, looking up at him for mercy as he smirks down at you.

“You can give me one more.” He tuts, looking down at where the toy is disappearing inside of you. “Come on baby. One more then I’ll give you what you want. I’ll fuck you hard if you beg for it.” He promises, working the toy into your pussy.

Whoever said Dieter only cared about himself in bed was a fucking liar. He’s greedy, he’s gluttonous but he loves making you cum for him. Getting high on the pride that your cries give him. “Baby, I can’t.” Shaking your head, you try to rock your hips up. “Need you. Need your cock.”

“You can. You can do it. Come on, cum again for me, sweet cheeks.” He pleads, “want to see it one more time on the toy.” He curls the toy inside of you, working it a little faster.

He is so demanding. Making you bite your lip and your eyes flutter closed as he pushes your body closer to the edge. “Dee- Dieter.” You pant quietly, fingers curling into the sheets.

“Fuck yes. Always so pretty when you cum.” He groans, leaning in to kiss along your neck as you clamp down on the toy. “Love seeing you like this. You relax me so much. Want to do the same for you.” He murmurs, biting down on your earlobe.

You whine, he has discovered your love of biting and he uses it every chance he could. Shuddering and shivering as you continue to cum around the toy. “Dee, baby, I need you. I need you to fuck me.” You beg. You are addicted to him, honestly falling for him and wanting this all the time.

He slowly pulls the toy out of you and he shifts to kneel between your legs. “How do you want me?” He asks, biting his lip as he grips his cock and slides the leaking head through your folds. He nudges your clit and loves the way you gasp with sensitivity.

“Filling me up.” You moan, lifting your leg and sliding it along his hip. “Want to feel you tomorrow when I’m rubbing your back.”

He can’t deny you, loving the way you moan as he rubs your clit. He takes pity on you a few moments later, sliding his cock down and pushing into you in one thrust. Groaning your name at the way you grip him already, so wet from your precious orgasms.

“Fuck!” You squeal, walls clenching down around him and your legs wrapping around his waist. “So big, you always beat the toys.”

Dieter grins cockily, shifting your body up so he can lift your legs onto his shoulders. You’re quite flexible and he loves twisting you around. “Good. Wanna - wanna be better than the toys. Keep you cumming on my cock over and over again.” He declares as he pushes into you with a groan.

“You just- you say that because I cooked you dinner.” You chuckle breathlessly. After you had left the set, you had stopped by the grocery store and Maria, his housekeeper, had let you in. It had been very domestic, cooking for the actor and you had loved how he had raved about the home cooked meal and even had seconds.

"Best way to a man's heart." He teases without thinking too much about his words. He leans in to press his lips to yours, sloppily sliding his tongue into your mouth as you cross your ankles behind his back.

You whine, loving how he is folding you over. The man had been practically giddy when he had learned how flexible you are and it had been a bit of a work in progress, but you had gotten him to stretch with you. He had said it was just your hands that make his back feel better, but the stretches you have him doing with you in the mornings you stay over also help. You kiss him back, wondering once again if it's a slip of the tongue, or if Dieter is trying to tell you something without saying the words. You caress his back and love how he throbs deep inside you, knowing that as soon as he starts to move, you are going to be screaming his name.

He rocks his hips, pushing into you, and you moan into his mouth. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Fuckkkk.” Dieter groans against your chin as he pulls back slightly. His hips rocking again until they press against your ass. It’s so fucking good. The way you take him, whatever he gives you. More intoxicating than any drink or drug he’s ever tried.

You’re going to miss this when he gets bored, when he finds another shiny thing or person to capture his attention. You think it’s because of proximity. You’ve seen it amongst crew and actors before. For now, you soak up the pleasure greedily. “More baby.” You beg, gasping out as he pushes deep. “Love it.”

He loves the way you beg for more, rocking into you a little faster, shifting you so you are bent over even more. His hips slapping against your ass as he fucks you hard, grunts escaping his lips as he rocks into you with one mission only: to make you orgasm.

Dieter fucks you like nothing else in the world exists. You love the blown out look of his eyes, focused on you. The grunts and pants as he works himself deep into your gasping cunt and feeling him twitch when you spasm around him. “Fuck!”

“Jesus.” He hisses, “fucking - shit - yes. Want you to cum for me. Wanna feel that pussy soak my cock. Wanna feel you cream.” He demands, rocking into you even faster, truly fucking you hard and fast.

You squeal and cry out every time his cock punches into you. Toes curling as you take every harsh thrust and love it. “D-D-Deeeeeeee!” You scream his nickname and soak his cock when you finally cum, slashing your cum up onto his stomach from how hard you break.

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” He hisses, “that’s - shit. You’ve soaked me.” He groans in surprise and he works you through it. “Fuck baby.” He hisses, the sound of your sopping pussy echoes in the bedroom, his hips smacking your wet skin. “Oh shit. I’m gonna cum.” He admits, knowing he won’t last when you squirted all over him.

“Cum- fuck, fill me up.” You might have developed a cum kink with Dieter, loving having him drip out of you. If it weren’t for you keeping things professional on set, you would beg him to fill you up during his lunch.

“Yes. I’m gonna - I’m gonna - oh fuck.” He groans, pushing deep inside of you as he starts to spill against your fluttering walls. “Shitttt.” He hisses while he twitches inside of you, “so fuck- fucking good.”

You look up at Dieter, watching his face as he cums. He looks so good with his face relaxed in bliss. “That’s it baby.” You coo softly. “Fuck you feel so good.”

He rocks through it until he slumps above you, his face buried in your neck. “Thank fuck they hired you to massage me. Best damn decision ever.” Dieter mumbles into your skin, making you chuckle.

You hum quietly and run your fingers through his hair. “I think so.” You agree softly. “Are you tired now?” You ask. “You have an early call time, right?”

Dieter nods, grunting as he pulls out of you. “Gotta clean up first. You soaked me. You squirted like that before?” He inquires, a smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “No, but no one has folded me over like a fucking box with a dick as big as yours.” You huff, knowing he will love that.

Dieter grins, waggling his eyebrows as he shuffles off the bed to get you another one of his embroidered towels. “Just want to treat you right, baby.” He winks.

“Best sex I’ve ever had.” You admit easily. “And it doesn’t hurt that you are sweet.” It’s honestly surprising how sweet he is, but he is sometimes thoughtless, like all people.

​​He cleans you up and wipes himself off since you came all over his torso, and he tosses the towel across the room, holding his arm out for you to curl around him. He doesn’t want you to go home, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t want you to go home at all.

Most nights you spend in Dieter’s bed. You haven’t slept at your place in nearly two weeks and even then, Dieter had come over and stayed with you. “This is my favorite place to sleep.” You hum as you fold yourself into that space.

Dieter claps to turn off the lights and wraps his arm around you, leaning in to kiss your hair and he closes his eyes. He feels like his house has finally become a home and that terrifies him.

**** 

“So are you seeing anyone?” You try not to seem annoyed at the up and coming actor. He's sweet and it’s not like you’ve advertised you are with Dieter. “Yeah, um, I practically live with my boyfriend.” You explain, shrugging almost apologetically as you hand him one of your business cards. You are only here for Dieter but drumming up more business was never bad.

Dieter is behind you as you declare he’s your boyfriend and his heart stops. “Can we talk?” He asks you, and you nod, following him to his trailer. He shuts the door and spins around, “what the actual fuck? You just called me your boyfriend to some random. Do we - the fucking NDA?” He balks, “I can’t believe- are you looking for a free ride or something? You’ve practically moved in with me.”

You frown, mouth dropping open and you feel like you’re being attacked. “Dieter, I didn’t- I didn’t name you.” You try to remember exactly what you said when he’s glaring at you like you just gave an interview to The Sun. “I-I-I didn’t-“ Dieter scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You didn’t what? Say that you practically live with me?” He challenges and you shake your head. “No- I mean, yes, I did but I didn’t mean it like that.” You defend pitifully.

“So how did you mean it? I didn’t - I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t want you to become - Oh my fucking God. I can’t - you told some rando. Who else are you telling? Are you - are you doing some kind of exposé or some shit?”

“What? No!” You’re deeply offended by the mere idea of betraying him like that. “I said I had a boyfriend because he was trying to ask me out.” You hiss. “I don’t fuck someone else when I’m banging you.”

“What the fuck? I can’t - Jesus. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have trusted you. I shouldn’t have trusted anyone.” He hisses at himself and he shakes his head, wanting to get high to forget about this bullshit.

You don’t know what the hell is going on and you don’t like the way Dieter is looking at you. “I haven’t done anything, Dee.” You reach out for him, but he jerks back, pulling away from you like you will infect him with something. You stop, hand outreached and drop it down by your side. “I- what does that mean?”

“You’re gonna sell my stories to the paper. Like the last girl did. That’s why I don’t give my heart away. I don’t - fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten so involved with you.” He chokes, shaking his head.

You can’t even form a response, feeling your heart break that he would believe that after all this time. Every damn day spent together and he would believe that? You bite your lip and move over to the massage table that is still standing in the same spot that it had been left over a month ago and you start to break it down.

Dieter stumbles over to his dresser, pulling out a baggie and he shoves two pills in his mouth, swallowing them dry. He watches you break down the table and he feels so stupid for thinking you might want him for more than his money, his sex appeal.

It’s hard to not cry, but you don’t want Dieter to think that it’s crocodile tears to get back into his good graces. You can’t believe that he’s doing this, that he acts like he doesn’t know you at all. The table is packed away into the bag and your candles and oil tucked into your purse. “Anything else, Mr. Bravo?” You ask tightly, knowing that you’re obviously going to be released from your contract.

He doesn’t answer you, just stares as blankly as he can manage even though he feels like he’s gonna be sick. He’s overreacted and he doesn’t realize it now but he will later when he’s struggling to sleep because he sent away the best thing that’s happened to him in so many years.

Walking out of Dieter’s trailer is horrible, waiting to say something else, but you can’t. You had fallen in love with him and he didn’t trust you. Making it to your car and storing the table in the trunk before you drive home on autopilot, sobbing when you pull up to Dieter’s house and have to drive another thirty minutes to actually go to your little used apartment.

Dieter arrives home and immediately reaches for the stash of drugs he has accumulated since he’s been sleeping with you. He found that he didn’t need them as much. He’s been…happy. To hear you say he’s your boyfriend terrified him. He hasn’t belonged to anyone for so long. He hasn’t had to commit and any sign of long term scares him off. He’s not ready to lose you and he scoffs at that thought. He already has.

Your apartment is dusty. You wince when you see that everything looks neglected and you’re pretty sure that there’s spoiled food in the fridge. You still don’t know why Dieter was so upset when you didn’t mention him by name, you wouldn’t have done that. Even without the NDA. Sighing to yourself, you drag a trash can over to the fridge to start cleaning it out so you can order food. After that, you’ll clean your apartment and figure out if you left anything over at the actor’s house.

Dieter isn’t sure how many days it’s been since he saw you last. He’s spiraling. Showing up to the studio high was the last straw and the director threatened to fire him if he didn’t get his shit together. His manager and assistant sit him down in his trailer and ask what the fuck is going in. “I miss her.” He sobs, “I- I want her back.”

“Who?” The manager is completely confused, not sure what the hell is going on. Dieter hasn’t been dating anyone. “Anika? She’s gone back to London, Dee.” He reminds the actor. “You said she didn’t want the same things you did.”

“No. No. Not Anika. Herrrr.” He sobs and his manager frowns, looking to his assistant for any insight. “Ohhh.” His assistant turns to look at his manager and he says your name. “The masseuse?” His manager frowns and Dieter sobs harder, “I want her back.”

“She’s under contract.” There is a particular kind of attitude that comes with Hollywood managers. “She hasn’t been showing up? I’ll sue her. She is contracted to finish out this movie as your masseuse.” He snorts. “She fucked up. This will ruin her reputation. She’ll be massaging walk-ins in a strip mall.”

“I- I sent her away. I fired her because - because I think I’m in love with her and that terrified me. I can’t. I can’t - oh shit. She’s gone because of me. I want her back. I need to get her back.” He scrambles for his keys, needing to find you and tell you he needs you.

“Whoa, whoa.” Holding out his hand, Dieter’s manager looks over at his assistant. “Do you know what the fuck is going on?” He asks, not used to seeing Dieter like this before. He went through relationships and flings like most people went through socks. “He and the masseuse were having sex.” Not that you told him, he could just tell from the way his boss was acting. He would never even tell that he had dropped off some papers one night and witnessed you and Dieter in his pool. His boss’s business was his own. “I have to give it to her, no one on set had a clue.”

Dieter is sobbing as he finds his keys, wiping his eyes. "I need to find her." He chokes, "I need her." He admits to himself and his team while he's in a spiral thinking he's lost you forever. He turns to his manager, "she didn't - I begged her to have sex with me and now - now I've lost her because I was scared. I gotta find her." He shoves his feet into his crocs and makes his way out of his trailer without a glance back as he tries to find you.

The past two weeks have been miserable, making you miss the set, the people that you had become friends with. Mostly, you missed Dieter. You had so quickly fallen for him, even if you hadn’t realized it at the time. Winding him through your entire day until you were thrown away. You’ve been sulking, but you can’t stay inside your house another minute, booking yourself your own massage and slowly getting ready for your appointment.

Dieter drives to your place, having found it in his GPS history, and he pulls up outside. His stomach is twisting and he feels sick. "Fuck." He mutters to himself as he gets out of the car and makes his way to your front door, knocking on it and shifting awkwardly in his crocs.

Frowning, you pick up your bag and move to the door, wondering who is knocking. You had ordered groceries last night. “Dee?” You gasp in shock when you see the actor standing in your doorway. “What are you- what do you want?” You ask, holding the door and looking around your landing. You know that if he flipped out about mentioning a boyfriend, he wouldn’t want to be spotted here at your apartment again.

"Oh thank God you're here." He says and pushes into your place. "I - I fucked up." He admits, shaking his head. "Did you leave something here?" You ask with a frown. "Yeah. My heart. You took it with you. I don't want it back. I want you. I shouldn't have freaked out but I can't - everyone leaves me eventually and I pushed you away so I didn't have to be the one rejected. I love you. I - shit - I want to be your boyfriend."

You frown and shake your head. “Dieter, you told me to go. Accused me of betraying you by selling your story, of being some kind of gold digger.” You have worked your way round to upset now that he’s in front of you.

"I know. I - I'm fucked up. I can't - I don't want to lose you but I think - I already have, haven't I?" He murmurs, his eyes sad as he stares at you.

“Why?” You ask quietly. “Why didn’t you believe me? I- Dieter I never said anything to anyone about what we had. I never will.” You promise him. “I- loved spending time with you.” You admit, tears starting to build in your eyes. “And I honestly had just realized that I spent all my time at your house, like I had moved in.”

“I freaked out. I’ve been screwed over more times than you’d think by people who abused my status, wanting to use me and I- I panicked and thought maybe you were using me because there’s no way someone as incredible as you would actually want me.”

You snort and shake your head. “Me? You’re Dieter fucking Bravo. You’ve done things and won Oscars.” You huff. “But I don’t care if you are famous. I care that you’re cool. I love spending time with you.” You admit, biting your lip. “I love you.”

His eyes widen at your confession and he blinks several times as if he’s trying to process your admission. “Then it’s a good fucking thing I love you too.” He declared dramatically and surges forward to cup your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m messed up, baby. I got more issues than Time magazine. You gonna want to put up with my shit?” He asks, his gaze dipping down to your lips.

You snort and shake your head. “I don’t mind your issues.” You hum and wrap your arms around him. “They aren’t bad. But talk to me. I’m on your side and I will always make sure that you are okay with something I do that could affect you. Personally or professionally.”

Dieter pulls you close with his other arm, his fingers caressing your cheek and he slowly leans in to press his lips to yours. The kiss is slow, unlike anything he’s ever done before honestly. He’s never felt like this and it’s intoxicating to know you want him. Even the ugly parts of him he tries to hide from the world.

Your fingers tangle into his hair and you let him take the lead. Giving his all as he kisses you and you respond in kind. Eyes slipping closed as you smile and feel your heart mending.

He groans, his hands sliding down to squeeze your waist. His tongue sliding against yours and he loves the way you lean into him. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back, “come home with me.”

“Are you sure?” You ask softly. It’s not that you don’t want to believe that’s what he wants, but you don’t want him to feel like you’re taking advantage of him.

“Yes. I don’t want to sleep at night without you next to me.” He promises, his hands sliding lower to squeeze your ass. “And I want to fuck you. Want you to cum for me.”

You moan softly, cunt clenching and already starting to get wet just thinking about that. “I’ve missed you.” You promise. “The toys are never as good as you are.”

“No flesh tight could squeeze me like you do.” He promises as he waggles his eyebrows. “Missed you. Missed your sweet little pussy. I want - I need you right now.” He murmurs, kissing your jaw.

You giggle quietly and tilt your head to the side. “Did you come find me because you are horny?” You tease, knowing that it wouldn’t take much to find someone to fuck.

“Not just because of that.” He says defensively and you chuckle. “I want you. All of you. Your heart. Your mind. Your soul. Your pussy.” He smirks, reaching down to cup you through your leggings.

“Then why don’t you go get in my bed, Bravo?” You order with a grin, suppressing a moan when he presses against your clit. “I want to ride that stupidly handsome face of yours.”

He grins, wide and so fucking happy at the way you accept him and love him. He's so happy he didn't lose you to his stupidity. "Yes ma'am." He salutes after he pulls his hand away from your clit. He strips his threadbare shirt off and rushes into your bedroom, eager to touch more of you. He shoves his sweatpants down and his crocs go flying as he kicks them off and jumps on your bed.

You can’t help but laugh when you hear the mattress springs squeak. Undressing as you walk down the hall, you are treated to the sight of Dieter with his hand wrapped around his hard cock and you moan. “You look so good like that.”

Dieter smirks, watching you shove your panties down your legs as he squeezes his cock. "Come sit on my face so I can make you cum. Wanna taste you again." He demands, whining slightly.

“So impatient.” You chide. “I’m - oh shit, hang on.” You turn around and dart out of the room to call the masseur you had booked to let them know you weren’t going to be able to make it.

“Babyyyyy.” Dieter whines when you disappear, his cock aching and his mouth watering as he waits for you to come and sit on his face. “Come onnn.” He pleads pathetically, his feet hitting the bed as he lifts them impatiently.

“Hang on!” You call out, laughing at his petulance. “I need to cancel my appointment!” You fire off a text and know that he will charge your card for the cancellation fee, so it should be all good. Hurrying back to Dieter, you grin when you see him again. “Maybe I’ll tie you to my bed.” You tease.

Dieter nods, eyes wide. “Whatever you want to do to me, ma’am.” He promises, his cock twitching against his stomach as his gaze trails along your figure. “As long as you ride my face.” He pouts, pushing his lower lip out.

You had discovered that at times, Dieter enjoys being submissive. “Oh I’m going to, baby.” You coo. “I’ve been denied orgasms by your talented mouth, fingers and cock for two weeks.”

He is even more impatient for your pussy on his face so he sticks his tongue out as an open invitation to sit on his face. “Come on.” He mumbles with his mouth open.

You roll your eyes, even as you straddle his chest. “I love you.” You murmur, caressing his face and smirking as you shift forward to press your folds against his tongue, grabbing onto the headboard.

He groans when you settle on top of him, his tongue sliding through your folds eagerly. He wants to hear you moan for him again. His hands find your hips and he squeezes, encouraging you to take what you want.

You start to rock, moaning his name because you know how much of a praise whore Dieter is. He soaks it up like a drought parched river bed. “So good baby, missed that tongue.” You hum.

His cock dribbles pre-cum onto his belly but he doesn't give a fuck, he wants to show you how good he can be. He doesn't want to lose you. His fingers slide around to your ass, squeezing your cheeks and smacking them as you rock over his face.

“Oh fuck.” You whimper, closing your eyes and reaching down to palm your left breast. “I dreamed about you. Missed sleeping wrapped up with you. Missed touching you, massaging you.”

He loves hearing you declare that. His fingers slide into your ass crack, his index finger finding your puckered hole and he rubs it, loving the way you cry out at the new sensation.

Fucking Dieter is always filthy, your body lurching forward as his tongue slides deep into your cunt. Making you moan as his finger continues to massage your other entrance and you absolutely know he would tongue fuck you in either one depending on what you wanted. “Fuck, you’re so dirty, baby. You want my ass? I thought you missed my pussy.”

“Miss all of you.” He mumbles into your flesh, his lips caressing your clit while his finger works into your puckered hole. His tongue pushes back into your pussy, groaning at the tangy taste of your arousal and he desperately wants you to cum.

You whine and roll your hips, grinding down onto his tongue. “Dee, you are so fucking good baby.” You praise breathlessly, feeling so good as he pushes his finger works down to the knuckle.

He slides his tongue up to suck on your clit, loving the way you grind your cunt onto his face. Your thighs squeezing his head and his free hand comes up to cup your tit, pinching your nipple.

You gasp out, never surprised by Dieter but always overwhelmed by how desperately he wants you to cum. He’s groaning into your folds and you love it, gasping out his name again when he slides another finger into your ass

Dieter groans when you clench around his fingers, loving how unabashedly you seek your pleasure. One of the things he loves about you. His tongue is everywhere. Pushing into you, flicking against your clit. He wants you to fall apart above him.

It doesn’t take long for your thighs to burn, your core tightening in that warning of your impending orgasm. Your fingers curl around your head board tighter than before. “Dee!” You cry. “Gonna cum!”

He works harder, flicking his tongue over your clit like it’s the last thing he’s ever gonna do. He groans when you grind down onto him, thighs closing around his head and your fingers clamp down on his digits.

You close your eyes, riding the wave of pleasure as he apologizes through sex. Or maybe it’s make up sex, all you know is that it’s amazing. Making you moan and lean against the headboard when you are done, panting his name again and again.

He kisses the inside of your thighs as you relax above him. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from your ass, he sighs your name and lets you make the next move. He’s aching against his stomach but he doesn’t want to push for more when he’s the one that is apologizing.

You shuffle down, pressing your lips to his wet ones before you straddle his hips. “I haven’t slept with anyone.” You promise quietly, hoping he hadn’t either. You would need to use a condom if he had until he could be tested.

“No. I haven’t.” He promises, “I couldn’t - no one was you.” He declares and shakes his head, caressing your cheeks. “I love you. I couldn’t think about anyone else.”

“Good.” You smile down at him as you reach between you, lining yourself up to sink down on his cock slowly. Moaning when he starts to fill your aching pussy.

“Jesus fucking Christ. I’ve missed this.” He hisses as you sink down onto him and surround his cock with your slick, velvet walls. “That’s it baby. That’s - fuckkkk.” His hands find your hips, squeezing and caressing.

“Fuck, I love you.” You aren’t naive, knowing that a life with Dieter won’t be without problems and other issues in the future.

“I love you. I love you. I loveeee you.” He rambles as you start to move on top of him. His feet shuffle as you slowly work yourself on his cock. “God. Oh shit. You’re so good.” He chokes, “no one has made me feel like this before.”

You hum, smirking down at him and clenching so he whines again. He’s so responsive and you love it. Slowly rolling your hips as you feel him deep inside you. “You’re so deep, baby.” You moan.

“In your guts. Where I always wanna be.” He smirks, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he watches your tits bounce as you start to move a little faster. “Come on baby. Fuck. Ride me.” He demands, smacking your ass with his palm.

You love how Dieter stitches from needy to demanding at the drop of a hat, pressing your hands on his chest and starting to move faster. Moans pouring out of your mouth every time you slam back down on his thick cock.

“Yes yes yesss.” Dieter hisses when you rock back onto him and he reaches up to curl his fingers around your neck, dragging you down to bring your lips to his. His tongue immediately slides into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth, his tongue searching and insistent. You love kissing him and eagerly kiss him back. Grinding down on his length as you whine softly.

“That’s it baby.” He groans against your mouth, “use me. Want you to use me for your pleasure. Want you to cream all over my cock. Want you to - shit - never leave me.” He begs against your lips.

“I won’t.” You promise quietly, pulling back to stare into his eyes. “I’m yours, baby, I’m right here.” You know that he could leave, throw you out down the road, but you will promise this to him now.

“Never want you to go. Never want to lose you. I - shit - I love you, baby. So much. So fucking much. You get me. You know me. Even - even my bullshit.” He hisses as you clench around him, “love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” You smile as you kiss him again, knowing that he will cum soon. 

**** 

“Dieter! Dieter! Who is your date!” You clutch his arm and try not to look too dazed by all the flashing cameras and people shouting. He makes this look easy and his charming laugh captures your attention so you look back at him, hair slicked back and his smirk proud as he puffs up in his tailored suit.

“My beautiful date is the love of my life. This movie was made because she kept my mind, my soul, my heart, and my body in perfect condition. She’s everything I have been looking for and I’m not letting her go.” He winks at you, “she massaged her way into my life and she’s here to stay.” He chuckles and the cameras go crazy when he leans in to kiss you. Putting the clause in his contract about having an on set masseuse was the best decision his team has ever made. Now though, that term is crossed out because he has you in his life to massage him whenever he needs. You are his personal masseuse and he is yours, whenever you want some reciprocation…although his massages always finish with a happy ending.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 8 part 2 of 3

masterpost

“I will work with Black Bat?” Robin paused, looking between her and their Batdad. Batdad was still in his slippers and sweatpants.

He nodded at Robin. “That’s correct.”

“Finally,” Robin said. “A professional.” He turned on his heel to dismiss their Batdad from the conversation. “I will go suit up.” He waited a moment for her acknowledgement, not approval.

Cass gave him a double thumbs up. When he was out of sight she made eye contact with her Batdad and waggled her eyebrows at him. He did a big sigh. “Thank you for taking care of your little brother,” he said, because he meant well but he was really very silly about things. Robin did not need taking care of. Robin needed a place to jump and scream and bite.

She just nodded. No point in explaining.

Black Bat took the wait time to read through the most basic details of the ongoing case. The takeaway was: boring mission. Look at mechanic with her eyes. Take footage of his face. Find his name or other biographical information. Look at any ongoing projects to determine if anything required immediate action. Do not engage. Do not reveal self. Do not fight mechanic.

Boring!!!

It took very little time for Robin to ready himself. Damibat was a true professional, despite the sentimental wishes of the old people.

He spoke to her in sotto voce when they had gathered. “I admit relief.” Robin flicked his mask into place. “I am weary of being quashed by the authoritarian impulses of my…betters.” His disgust was clear. His tone and shoulders said: 

I miss Richard. My Father is a fool and Alfred is constraining my artistic soul. The regulations are unending. I do not feel confident of my survival in these conditions. I was forbidden to take home the tiger even though I saw it first. I may wilt.

Poor baby. Her face twisted with empathy. He did deserve the tiger. He would love it very well.

“Wanna drive the Batmobile?” Cass asked.

His sorrow lightened infinitesimally. “I cannot reach the pedals in order to operate it correctly. However, we could take the new cycles.” Robin scrolled to the right inventory item. “I took the liberty of customizing the paint jobs.”

Cass peered over his shoulder. “Ooh,” she said. Shiny. Spiky. “Looks fast. Let’s go.”

“No,” said Brucedad, from a distance. “Take a two person motorcycle and have your sister drive it. You do not have a license, Robin, you are 13.”

Robin made a sound of disgust, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I am beset by enemies,” he muttered. He stomped away towards their limited options.

Black Bat aimed a disapproving look at her Batdad. “You are crushing his artistic soul,” she informed him. 

“That’s a burden I will have to bear,” Batdad said gravely, and put on his reading glasses.

She hissed at him but they took one of the approved models out. 

Robin further debriefed her on a private channel on their ride into town, voices muffled to the outside world by their protective helmets.

“One of the previously uninfluential local gangs has been gaining territory and members in recent months. We have attributed this to an influx of unique tools they have access to, which have so far been unconventional tools.”

“Tools for what?” Cass took a hard left turn at a lean and let her fingertips trail just barely over the pavement.

“Excellent,” Robin said about the turn, and then, “they have been used to commit robberies. However, the designs are concerningly martial.”

He did not sound remotely concerned. He sounded approving. Cass asked for clarification with an upwards lilting “Mmm?”

“There was a bazooka that shot temporary voids,” Robin said, sounding young and excited. “They were used to bypass a bank vault and to intimidate a teller.”

Cass lifted her eyebrows and nodded. She could see why Brucedad would be antsy about bazookas, even if they didn’t hurt people. 

“There was also a device that created a foam which immobilized those it was deployed against by creating a sort of calcification effect. It ended naturally after a period of hours, but no technique we employed before that seemed to have a weakening effect on the substance. We were unable to attain samples.”

Cass hummed, feeling a little depressed about tonight’s mission after all. Science. Evil science. She was a little burnt out on evil science. She felt tired at the thought. This wasn’t fun.

Damibat noticed. He was silent for a few seconds. “After we confirm the location of the workstation, we could go to the docks,” Robin suggested.

She perked up a little bit. 

There was always someone to fight at the docks. Always a drug deal, smuggling big bad things, always something.

“Good plan.” 

“We will inform Batman afterward.”

Black Bat nodded her agreement. He didn’t need all the details of their schedule in live time. 

She felt a lot better driving out into the night with something to look forward to.