#so i rounded 'few' to 3 days and 'couple' to 2

[namelessprince]

heres the calender for the first 26 episodes of riptide!! as of episode 26, its been 31 days since episode 1! one whole month of the riptide pirates :]

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

[pure-smut]

feral.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, birth control tampering, unprotected s*x, noncon/dubcon, breeding k*nk, size k*nk, cunnilingus, multiple rounds, creampies, stalking, toxic behaviour

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: okay this is the actual final part!! tysm for all the love y'all have given this series, sukuna is truly one of my muses he's just so fucked up lmaooo

“Good news,” you say, beaming. “No more condoms!”

Ryomen Sukuna’s head snaps up from where he was lazing on the couch, scrolling his phone.

“What?”

“No more condoms!” you repeat. “I switched to a different kind of pill, it won’t make me feel as bleh.”

Sukuna can only stare at you. You cross the living room and kneel beside him on the couch. He’s been so patient with you, so doting, you feel bad you changed up your birth control so suddenly last time. You reach across to run your fingers through his hair.

“I know you hated the condoms,” you say, an apologetic smile on your face.

“Stupid things,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning into your touch.

The two of you had only had sex once with a condom and it was obvious Sukuna was displeased. Since then, you’ve been sticking to hand and mouth activities, which is great but not enough forever.

“Well, I’m sorry,” you tell him. “We don’t need to use them anymore.”

You lean across to press a kiss against his lips.

“I missed you, ‘Kuna,” you tell him softly, your eyes glancing down pointedly. “All of you.”

A grin crawls across his face as he kisses you back.

“You still have me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”

Truthfully, Sukuna’s been slipping you sleeping pills every couple of nights, taking his fill of you without a condom. You wake up every so often a bit achy and sore but Sukuna’s careful to clean up after himself, never leaving a trace, so you don’t pay it much mind. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s happy to keep doting on you, knowing he’s spilling his seed unprotected in you without you even knowing.

He slipped you the morning after pill the first couple of times but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting you pregnant. Your needy little pussy so eager for his cum, fucking his load into you until it takes. The idea was intoxicating. So he stopped spiking your coffee with the morning after pill. All he needs to do now is wait.

Until you interrupt his plans again.

Sukuna waits until you’re out of the house before he starts rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He finds your new pills quickly, a few of them already popped. He regards them with disgust. Just another barrier between you.

He takes a picture of them, making a note of the name and brand. After some difficult searching and a trip to the dark web, Sukuna finds someone who’ll send out several identical boxes, except filled with sugar pills instead. With a grin, he orders them.

Sukuna has to spend a few days finishing inside you knowing you’re still protected, waiting for the fake pills to arrive. He knows you’d get suspicious if he refrained from sex – it’s Sukuna, after all – so he fucks you the way you want, the thought of the prize at the end keeping him going.

You return home one day to see Sukuna with your favourite flowers, the lights turned low, and a smile on his face. Your sweet boyfriend.

You remember what you thought of him before you got together – an arrogant fuckboy would be putting it lightly. What should have been a quick, albeit satisfying, one night stand has somehow turned into the most loving relationship you’ve ever had.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deep, your tongue flicking over his. He’s been in a semi-bad mood ever since you said you were switching pills but he seems to have gotten over it, returning to the gruff but loving guy you know.

“I love you, baby,” Sukuna mumbles into your mouth. “Get on the bed.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he carries you through to the bedroom himself. You’re used to this, being manhandled by Sukuna, so you only giggle as he throws you onto the bed. He reaches under your skirt to tug off your panties before crawling between your legs.

Sukuna inhales the scent of you. You smell so dark and sweet, it’s like you’re custom built to turn him on. Ever since the night he broke into your room to taste you as you slept, he hasn’t been able to stop tasting you. You often find yourself in the middle of tasks, cooking or studying, interrupted by Sukuna nudging his face between your legs to lap at you.

Sukuna wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, his tongue parting your folds. You’re already glistening for him, so ready for him, and he loves that about you. Loves that he can take you whenever he wants, your pussy just waiting for him. You taste even better now that he knows you’ve been on the fake birth control pills for a week now, your scent somehow more powerful now he knows you’re unprotected, ready for his seed.

He groans into your pussy at the thought, his cock already throbbing. He licks a fat stripe along your lips before prodding at your entrance, lapping at your sweet honey. His nose nudges your clit, making you groan and card your fingers through his hair. You’d grind against him if you could, if his grip allowed you, but you’re no match for Sukuna’s strength. He always holds you in place, holds you exactly where he wants to.

Sukuna eats your pussy selfishly, the way he enjoys it rather than you – your pleasure being a nice bonus but not always necessary. His thick tongue slides in and out of your hole, gathering as much of your slick as possible, and you have to whine for him to please, please lick your clit. As usual, he brings you to the brink but doesn’t take you over unless you beg him.

Sukuna latches onto your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. His tongue swipes over the sensitive bud as he sucks and your whole body would buck if he wasn’t pinning you down so tightly. You moan and writhe as you come undone on his tongue, Sukuna licking up your juices as they run down his chin. He only pulls away when he’s painfully hard, needing to feel you around him before he bursts.

Sukuna quickly positions himself, slinging your ankles up over his shoulders as he aligns with your sopping cunt. He pushes himself in, feeling the fat head of his cock pop inside you before several more inches follow. You cry out his name, digging your nails into his forearm.

He normally goes slower than this, normally lets you adjust. But when you look up at him, Sukuna’s eyes are feral. Something instinctual has taken over him, has made him desperate to rut into you.

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper. “P-please… slower…”

A muscle bounces in his jaw but he obliges, the sound of your begging appeasing him. He doesn’t push any deeper but instead fucks you with shallow thrusts, only going halfway down his shaft.

It feels like your needy pussy is sucking him in, despite your pleading, and Sukuna has to fight to restrain himself. Your sweet, fertile womb is waiting for him and there’s nothing he wants more than to coat it with his cum.

But he does love you. He loves you so much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not really, not when you’re whimpering so sweetly for him, your nails digging into him so desperately. So he rocks his hips, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for the wince on your face to turn to pleasure, before he sinks himself deeper.

“Ah, fuck… that’s it…” Sukuna half sighs, half grunts as he bottoms out. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Y-yours, Sukuna,” you moan.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sukuna!”

“Say it.”

“I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust.

Sukuna’s pushing you to the brink again, his thick cock pistoning in and out of you as he rubs against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, helpless to it, your body not your own.

As you moan and mewl, Sukuna looks down at you and pictures you pregnant with his child. He imagines your swollen belly, how your heavy breasts will sway, how you’ll be with him forever.

His forever.

It’s enough to finish him. Sukuna groans long and low, sinking inside you as he spurts load after load into your womb. He fills you to the brim, his orgasm so powerful he falls onto his arms, muscles shaking.

He’s still inside you as he kisses you roughly, unlike the sweet, deep kisses he usually gives you after sex. You kiss him back but it’s only when you feel his hips rock again, his length still inside you that you realise he’s not done.

“’Kuna…?”

Sukuna ignores you as he pulls out long enough to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your leg up, bending it at the knee to give him better access as he slides himself into you again.

You gasp as your tender pussy is violated, your hands splayed out as Sukuna pins your down with his body weight. He’s still fully hard, his girth hitting a new angle as he fucks his load back into you.

“S-Sukuna…” you whimper. “M’sore!”

“Quiet,” he commands you, voice rough. “I can feel how fucking wet you are so be a good little slut and let me finish.”

Sukuna’s harsh voice silences you as you bury your face into the pillow, hands fisting the bed sheets. He’s right – you’re tender but you’re still enjoying it, your pussy drooling around his cock. His cum is only making you sloppier, only making it easier for him to fuck you. So you stay quiet, softly whimpering into the pillow.

Sukuna continues fucking you, the feel of your plush walls still so tight around him and the lewd squelch of your sopping pussy making his second orgasm build quickly. He wants to fuck as much cum in you as he can, wants to fill your womb with it.

The fact that you’re unaware, still thinking you’re protected, is a delicious bonus. A thrill runs up his spine as he thinks about how you’re letting him fuck you, letting him cum inside you, when you never would if you knew.

If you only knew.

You lay there, legs nearly numb and body drained of any energy, as Sukuna continues to saw in and out of you. You feel one of his large hands scoop under your hip, lifting you slightly so he can go deeper. Sukuna handles you like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and you realise the thought makes you even wetter. Your walls are so sensitive, each stroke feels like fire through your body, half pleasure and half pain.

Your abused pussy clenches involuntarily around Sukuna's girth as he forces a orgasm from you, his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace.

Having you in this position reminds Sukuna of every night he’s fucked you while you’re asleep, your body limp and pliant, just waiting to be moved to his liking. Except this time he's fucked you into submission, his own personal little fucktoy.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his cock swelling. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’re so fucking good.”

He’s so close. Your pussy feels too warm and soft, too greedy for his cum for him to last any longer. Sukuna grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucks into you. His balls tighten at his approaching orgasm and you can hear his moans behind you, his cock nearly overly sensitive.

You’re almost relieved as you feel his hot cum spill inside you, Sukuna’s thrusts slowing as his cock throws thick ropes of his sticky seed in your womb. Your breathing is ragged, your face streaked with tears you didn’t realise you were crying.

Sukuna pulls out of you but stays where he is, breathing hard. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help myself. You just felt so good.”

Sukuna smooths his hand across your back, pressing more gentle kisses against your neck and shoulder. You let him, blinking away the last of the tears.

“I love you,” Sukuna says quietly.

You roll over to face him, wincing at the tender ache between your legs.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Sukuna kisses you again, the way you remember, soft and deep. You want to ask what came over him but when he tells you he’s going to clean you up and run you a hot bath, you decide you don’t mind.

True to his word, Sukuna gently cleans you before leaving you to soak in the bath. He offers to stay with you but you insist you want to sit alone for a while, peppering him with reassuring kisses. And you do sit alone for a while, for a few minutes.

Quietly, you climb out of the bath and open the cabinet to find your birth control pills. You check you’ve taken the dummy pills Sukuna got you before putting them back in the cabinet. You sink silently to your knees and carefully lift one of the tiles on the bathroom floor. Sitting there are your real birth control pills.

You pop one free, swallowing it quickly before putting it back, replacing the tile without making a sound. You climb back into the bath slowly so you don’t splash before lying back again, relaxing.

You first discovered Sukuna’s sleeping pills when he was out collecting your favourite takeout some weeks ago. You figured that was the reason you were waking up some mornings with a familiar ache.

You discovered the tracking app on your phone the morning after Sukuna had installed it and had spotted him following at a distance behind you some days. So you gave him what he wanted – you made sure he saw you ignored other men and you never lied about your location.

You got your own set of morning after pills once you found the sleeping pills, knowing immediately what Sukuna was up to. He might think you’re unprotected, might fuck you like you are, but only you know that’s not true.

You close your eyes, enjoying the soak of the hot water. You know Sukuna does this because he loves you. Because he’s obsessed with you. You like that he's rough with you you, that he loves you so much he stalks you, that he wants to get you pregnant so he'll never lose you.

You love him just as much back. Your sweet, doting boyfriend who thinks he knows everything about you, who thinks he’s the one in control.

Your smirk to yourself.

If only he knew.

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[no-144444]

losing battle- l.stroll

Day 10 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: it's a marriage of convenience that's becoming pretty inconvenient when you start falling for your best friend.

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Lance Stroll was 2 things, powerful, and a mess. His driving was messy, his bedroom was messy, his house was messy, his relationship was messy, but most of all, his entire life was messy. After a very public split with the woman he’d been dating for literal years, he fell deeper and deeper into racing, somehow cleaning up his act and not acting like a paid seat driver. He was good. The car was good. Podiums were a regular thing for both him and Fernando. Wins were becoming a regular thing for Fernando, and Lance had a few more under his belt. Not only that, but they were finally fighting for the championships, and Fernandio had won his third last season, it was Lance’s turn now, and he was making the most of it. Everything was great. 

The only issue? Lance was now boring in the media’s eyes. He had no scandals, no girlfriend, no family drama (well…?), nothing. He was a perfectly polite, perfectly fine, all-round good person. That wasn’t enough for the press. Every race, the same questions got asked; “are you dating anyone?” “who’s the special lady in your life?” “are you hiding a wife from us?”

He wanted it to stop. That’s where you came in. His sweet, kind, best friend since childhood. You’d been to races over the years, you’d been seen with him, you were gorgeous, the fans loved you, most importantly, Lance loved you, as a friend anyway. 

“So I have to marry you?” You gawked at Lance as he set the contracts out in front of you. “And then we act like a couple until…?” “Until the press gets off my back and I can say we amicably divorced and stayed friends,” he explained. 

“And this is a good idea because…?”

“It’s been 4 years since me and ‘she-who-must-not-be-named’ broke up, people wouldn’t just believe me and you got together like 3 years ago and we’re still just ‘together’-”

“And why not?” you questioned.

“I honestly don’t know these were just the points my dad wrote out for me to say,” he shrugged. “Please help me out?”

You sighed, how bad could it be?. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Excellent!” Lawrence beamed, startling the both of you. “Now, we should talk about certain things- children?”

“No way,” you answered firmly. “No way,” he answered firmly. 

You both burst into fits of laughter and Lawerence ended up leaving, knowing there was no stopping you two. Well, you were a wife now, and a WAG.

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lancestroll

liked by pierregasly, logansargeant, and 3,837,231 others

lancestroll happy anniversary baby :)

comments

fernandoalonso: my favourites!

user45: he kept this REAL quiet

user33: what. the. fuck.

alexandriastleux: can't wait to meet her!

user42: MY CHANCE IS GONE? -> user99: girl what chance he's a billionaire.

georgerussell: I WASN'T INVITED? -> lancestroll: no one was lol. just family -> georgerussell: I CAN BE FAMILY

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It could be very bad. Very, very bad. 

By age 25, you would’ve thought that you’d gotten over your childhood crush on Lance, but no. It was rampant every time he so much as looked in your direction. He was sweet, kind, funny, and so nice. He made an effort to include you in things, invited you to galas and dinners with the team, he’d lean over and kiss you randomly, take your hand, smile at you, kiss you before he got in the car, wink at you from the podium, kiss you when he got out of the car.

He was fucking perfect, for no fucking reason. 

You sat beside Lawrence as he chatted about the race, Canada, Lance’s home race. You listened attentively and didn’t notice Lance coming up behind you, and your brain short-circuited  when he kissed you on the head and wrapped his arms around you, making your eyes widen and your skin heat. It was always like this, any time he touched you, you felt it. Everywhere. 

Lawrence laughed. “You don’t have to pretend here, there’s no cameras.”

Lance’s hands fell away and you immediately missed them. He sat down beside you on the couch and smiled at you, whispering a ‘hello’. 

“Sometimes I think you two aren’t even acting. You’d think you were really in love,” Lawrence chuckled. 

“Alright dad,” Lance scoffed. “What were you two talking about before?”

“Just Canada in general, chatting about the house and stuff,” you shrugged. You and Lance had just bought your first house together and were finally moving in after months of it being renovated. Being ‘married’ to Lance was easy, simple, nice even. It was literally living with your best friend, which worked well for the two of you. 

“Where are we going tonight if you win?” Lawrenece asked, a sly smirk on his face.

“Out,” Lance shrugged with a grin. 

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He’d done it. He’d won his fucking home race. You celebrated with him at the parc fermé and cheered as he stood on the podium, proudly singing along to his national anthem. He’d won.

Once his media duties were done and he was showered and not smelling like champagne, out on the town you went. Clubs, pubs, bars, it didn’t matter, the night flew away from you as the drinks flowed and the energy buzzed. 

It was in some random club where Landio had befriended the DJ when Lance bumped into you again. 

“Hi!” he shouted over the music, clearly drunk. 

“Hi,” you smiled back, a little bit more sober. 

“You look beautiful tonight, y-you look beautiful every night,” he smiled. 

Your heart swelled. “Oh yeah? Even when I have my snoring tape on?” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Even then.” 

Suddenly you were very sober, and you had to get out of there. You couldn’t just be fake anymore, it wouldn’t work. You loved him, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved him. “I-I’m going to go-”

“Don’t run away from me,” he pleaded. “I want to talk about it- about us.”

“In the middle of the dance floor in a club?” you questioned. “Come with me.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, leading the way to the exit. Your heart was pounding. Maybe he’d found someone else? Maybe he was done with you? Maybe he hated you? Maybe-

“I love you,” he rushed out. “I love our life together, I love waking up to you, I love eating breakfast, and lunch, and dinner with you. I love cooking with you, I love movie nights with you, I love talking to you, I love being with you. I love kissing you and holding your hand, and being able to touch you whenever I want to. I fucking hate the fact that this all started with something fake, and it makes me feel like shit that our ‘wedding’ was the both of us signing a sheet of paper, but I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. This wasn’t real, this was your mind playing tricks on you, this was a joke, this wasn’t- 

“Please respond,” he begged. 

“I love you too,” you instinctively said. “I love all those things too.”

His worried face broke into a soft smile, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. 

Well, so much for fake.

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taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[forhappysake]

Teach Me

A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.

Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint

The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.

Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 

*Seven weeks later*

Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.

You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.

After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 

He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 

“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 

“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 

The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 

The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 

As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 

The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 

A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.

Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”

“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 

You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 

You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 

Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”

He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 

Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 

He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 

“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.

He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”

You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 

A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 

—

After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 

You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?

You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 

Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 

From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.

You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 

“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 

You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 

He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 

Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 

You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 

You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 

You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”

As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 

You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”

A blush spread over your face, “Really?”

He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”

I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 

He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 

“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 

Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 

Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”

Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 

You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 

He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 

“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 

Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 

You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”

He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 

You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”

Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 

You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 

He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 

He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 

You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 

You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 

He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 

You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 

“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 

“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 

He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 

“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 

As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 

“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.

“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 

He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 

“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 

The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 

You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 

He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 

The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 

His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 

As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 

Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 

You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 

He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 

“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 

You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 

Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 

You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 

Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 

You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 

He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 

Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 

“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 

A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”

You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 

That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 

Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 

You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 

You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 

You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 

He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”

“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  

He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 

After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  

“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 

“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.

Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 

“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 

Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”

With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 

You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 

You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 

You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 

Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  

“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 

He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”

“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 12

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s just a bluff, one you’ve perfected over the years. You’ve pulled this trick countless times, especially when someone refuses to give you the information you need. Most crack under the pressure, some get nervous and spill their secrets, just as you want.

But a few? A few see right through you.

And Bucky? He was one of those.

He scoffed, leaning back with that infuriating smirk. "I like this mind game."

You sighed inwardly, knowing you’d lost this round. He wasn't going to give anything up.

The tension hung thick in the air until the bathroom door creaked open, and Nate emerged, oblivious to the storm brewing between you and his uncle. Spotting his small luggage by the counter, he beamed, zipping it open to grab a change of clothes and, of course, his stash of snacks.

With his arms full, Nate wandered over to the both of you and handed each a snack—his favorite, the snack he wasn’t allowed to have at home. His parents and Hazel were strict about it, but he knew he could get away with it here, as long as he shared. This was his little bribe.

"This is my favorite," he said, grinning up at you both.

You couldn’t resist. You pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him gently. “Why are you so damn cute?”

Bucky, knowing exactly how strict Hazel and his parents were about junk food, raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get this? Did you ask the nanny?"

Nate shook his head, completely unfazed. "No. Uncle Steve gave it to me."

That name. The second Nate said it, it felt like an ice-cold bucket had been dumped over your head. You looked at Bucky, and his face tightened. His reaction told you everything—you weren't the only one feeling uneasy.

Something was going on, and Steve’s name was right in the middle of it.

You cleared your throat, determined to break the lingering awkwardness. “Let’s have lunch first. After that, what do you want to do next?”

Nate's eyes widened, his face lighting up with excitement as he turned to look at the spacious living room and the big TV. “Can we watch movies after lunch? Then take a nap together on that big couch?”

He’d seen that in a movie. With his grandparents, he could never relax like that, but he knew his uncles were much more laid-back. He wants to fall asleep while watching his favorite cartoon, being close to his uncle and aunt.

“Sure.” You patted his head gently, feeling a warmth spread through you. Besides, it had been ages since you’d enjoyed a good nap. It felt like a luxury for adults these days.

Lunch turned into a delightful moment of relaxation as the three of you settled around the table. Nate's innocent chatter filled the air, weaving a lightness into the atmosphere that slowly pushed away the tension between you and Bucky. Nate asked questions about everything under the sun—his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he talked about his favorite cartoons and the superheroes he admired.

After lunch, the three of you cozied up on the couch to watch a cartoon movie together. Nate nestled himself right in the middle, sprawled across both of you, laughter echoing through the room.

Within forty minutes, however, the excitement wore him out. He fell asleep, his head resting against your right arm. You smiled, reaching over to gently cup his cheek with your hand. “How did he get such a bubbly personality, considering the Barnes don’t seem to have it?” you mused aloud.

Bucky glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He’s different, isn’t he?” He reached over to place a soft pillow under Nate’s head, ensuring he was comfortable.

“Maybe my parents realized how strict they were raising me, Shawn, and Hazel. When Nate was born, I was surprised by how much gentler they are with him,” Bucky added, his voice softer, as if reflecting on the changes in his family.

“Do you think Steve has a bright character too? I wonder,” you said, still watching the peaceful expression on Nate's face.

Bucky’s smile faded, replaced by a more serious demeanor. “Why do you have to ruin this moment, my love?” he teased lightly before standing up and walking toward the balcony door. He opened it and stepped outside, lighting a cigarette.

You were surprised to see Bucky smoking; he hadn’t done that since you arrived. You knew he wasn’t a regular smoker, but sometimes the stress got to him.

You followed him outside, the cool breeze washing over you as you stepped onto the balcony. Bucky turned to face you, resting his back against the railing. His head tilted back, looking up at the sky as he released a plume of smoke from his lips.

“There’s a difference between me and Steve,” Bucky said, his voice steady yet reflective. “I got into this because of connections.” He paused, knowing that his privileged background played a significant role in his current position. “While Steve? He started from the military. He had no backup. He had real ambitions.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "You see me as a manipulative person," he said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "But you have no idea how manipulative Steve is."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Steve. The insinuation sent a chill down your spine, and you straightened your posture, folding your arms tightly across your chest. You weren't sure if Bucky was trying to manipulate you again or if he was genuinely warning you about something darker. Either way, the unease crept in.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you. “If you knew… compared to him, you’d think of me as an angel.”

You raised an eyebrow, your skepticism clear. “That’s hard to believe.”

A humorless smile tugged at Bucky’s lips. “He's a man of plans. If you and I think two steps ahead, Steve’s already thought 100 steps ahead.”

You let out a slow, steady breath, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “That doesn't excuse what you've done,” you replied, your voice low but firm. “You’re still responsible for dragging me into this.”

Bucky's smirk returned, but this time it held something deeper—almost regretful. “You might think I brought you here just for my own selfishness, but it's also for your protection.”

You blinked, the words hitting you like a slap. “You? Protect me? That’s a joke.” You couldn’t help the bitterness that slipped into your tone. The idea that he’d done anything selfless seemed ridiculous.

Bucky's smirk deepened, almost daring you to challenge him. “Like I said before—you can hate me, stab me, poison me. I’ll take it. But you need to know, I won’t let you get hurt.”

The conviction in his voice sent a tremor through you, but you masked it with a sharp exhale. “Who wants to hurt me?”

Bucky's expression shifted, something darker brewing in his eyes. “You can figure out the truth about Nate. I’m sure you can connect the dots.”

You felt your stomach drop as your thoughts raced. Could he be implying…? No, it couldn’t be. But then again, there were too many unanswered questions. “Is this about the election? And Steve?”

Bucky took a long drag from his cigarette before answering, the smoke swirling in the cool air. “You were walking through a minefield, and I got you out before you stepped on something that could blow your life apart.”

His words struck hard, and you bit your lip, turning over the recent jobs you’d taken. None of them seemed directly linked to the election, but you were a journalist with many connections, many stories—maybe one of them had crossed the wrong lines without you realizing it.

“This… this just makes me wonder even more why you chose to support Steve,” you said, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

Bucky stubbed out his cigarette against the balcony railing. “His leadership fits this country. You can disagree with that all you want. But Steve… Steve loves this country.”

You frowned, your mind spinning. Could that really be it? Could Bucky, despite all the manipulations and half-truths, genuinely believe Steve was the right person to lead? Or was this yet another layer of the twisted game they were all playing?

Bucky’s gaze softened slightly as he glanced at Nate through the glass door, the boy still soundly asleep on the couch.

“About Nate…” Bucky hesitated for a moment, and you could sense the weight of the words he was about to speak.

Your pulse quickened, your eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue.

“I won’t add more to what you already know,” he finally said, his voice heavy with the promise. “Because I made a vow—I’ll take the truth about Nate and Hazel to my grave.”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, and a cold realization settled over you. Whatever secret Bucky was keeping, it was bigger than you’d thought. And it wasn’t just about the election… it was about Nate and Hazel.

“So, I should be grateful that you dragged me out of a minefield?” You raised an eyebrow, the skepticism clear in your voice. “I’m not even sure it exists.”

Bucky met your gaze, unflinching. “Why do you think I’ve supported the independent company where you work?” His tone was steady, calm. “I could’ve ruined it. Could’ve made it go bankrupt, easily.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, heat rising in your chest. His words stung, even though he wasn’t saying them with any malice. Still, you couldn’t help the tension building inside you.

But then his voice softened, the intensity in his blue eyes never wavering. “You probably didn’t realize it,” Bucky continued, “but you’ve already passed through a minefield that could’ve ruined Steve.”

Your breath caught for a moment. Wait. Does that mean he sees me as a threat? The thought swirled in your mind, unsettling you. Was that why Bucky had been hovering around, keeping a close watch?

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. You searched Bucky’s face, trying to read between the lines. But there was no malice, no manipulation there—just something deeper, something protective.

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, your voice quieter now, a mix of confusion and frustration.

Bucky’s eyes softened. “I’m not here to control you. I just… don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of something bigger than either of us.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, the tension still lingering, but his words had shifted something inside you.

"Crossfire?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "It’s ironic, isn’t it? We can talk about other people, stay calm. But when it’s about us? All we ever do is argue."

Bucky’s jaw tightened at your words. She’s right, he thought, his heart aching with guilt. It’s always a fight when it comes to us.

He wanted to say something to ease the tension, but every word seemed wrong. He watched you—how your arms crossed defensively, how tired your eyes looked. Not angry, just… tired of it all.

“I know,” Bucky finally admitted, his voice rough with regret. “I’m the one who keeps messing this up. I keep dragging us into this same damn fight.”

You didn’t blink, didn’t soften. You were too worn down by it all. "Then why keep doing it?" you asked, voice tinged with exhaustion. "Why keep playing these games, Bucky? I’m tired. I’m so tired of being caught in your manipulation. It’s like… you don’t even care what it does to me."

Bucky winced at the rawness in your words, the reality of it hitting him hard. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes like never before. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping. “I know it looks like that, but… I never meant for it to be this way. I did it because I was scared.”

Your heart clenched at the confession, but the exhaustion was still there, weighing you down. “Scared of what? Of just talking to me? Of being honest?”

Bucky shook his head, stepping closer, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for you but unsure if he could. “I was scared of losing you again,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I did everything I could to keep you here, to keep you close. But I know I went about it all wrong. I twisted things, manipulated situations, because I thought it was the only way.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words sunk in. He wasn’t trying to push you away—he was clinging to you, so tightly that it hurt.

“You have no idea what that feels like, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “To be pulled into your games, not knowing why, thinking I don’t matter to you. It’s exhausting.”

Bucky’s face fell, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. And I hate that I did that to you,” he said softly. “I hate myself for it. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It’s because I care too much, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You could see the truth in his eyes now, the desperation behind his actions. It didn’t erase the pain, but it explained it.

“I was afraid that if I didn’t do everything I could, you’d leave me again,” Bucky continued, his voice shaky. “And I couldn’t take that. Not again. I know I’ve been manipulative, and I know I’ve hurt you because of it. But I was doing it to keep you close… not to push you away. I’m sorry.”

Your throat tightened, the weight of his confession settling in. You hated what he had done, but you could finally see where it came from—fear, desperation, and a love so deep he didn’t know how to control it.

Bucky stepped closer again, this time more confident. “I’ll stop,” he said, voice steady but full of regret. “I’ll stop with the manipulation, with the games. You deserve so much better than that. You deserve better than me, but I’m not giving up. I’ll make things right if you let me.”

You didn’t answer right away, the ache of everything still too fresh. But before you could respond, Bucky took a step back, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I’ll understand if I already have.”

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[httpsserene]

I LOVED daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x reader!! could you write a part 2?

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐊.𝐎. !

summary: Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine.  As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words.  pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x fem!black!reader content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. author recommends reading part one before this. polyamory. threesome. massages. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. safe, sane, and consensual. bondage. safeword mention. unprotected sex. ruined orgasm. handjob. oral sex (male receiving). edging. crying during sex. praise kink. nipple play. dom/sub ig? joking during sex. dom!max verstappen. switch!daniel ricciardo. sub!reader. vaginal sex. anal sex (male). sex toys (butt plug). frottage. don’t like don’t read. no beta we die like men. edited by the author, though. this is a fictional depiction of real-life people, and this is not an accurate representation of them. word count: 4.3k words

author’s notes: to all the lovely readers who begged for a part two of my f1 kinktober special | overstimulation kink w danny & max. these tags may look crazy...okay, they are but the fic is reasonably crazy i would say. this was humbling to write, you have been warned. my 2k followers special comes to its end with this final installment and there will be no part three of this fic < 3. i may repost this on ao3 in a week or so, for ease of reading as i know long fics on tumblr are kind of annoying :)

(i'm going to take a little pause from writing daniel ricciardo fics but those of you that have requested things for him i will get to them in due time xxx)

prev part 1 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents↻

Your body feels like it’s been wrung out: legs wobbly, thighs bruised, hips aching, back broken, and numb with heat between your legs. You refuse to wear pants as the friction is too paralyzing to take more than a few steps. Loose dresses are your best friend–for the first couple of days, you even went commando around the ranch—thank god neither one of your boyfriends clued into that. 

However, it’s not like you disliked the oversensitivity and aching muscles that came after sex. You loved the feeling even more as it was the first time you’d been properly fucked in a few months. Having that unending thirst for Max and Daniel quenched; it’s heightened how you experience life. You swear that your vision feels sharper, your melanated skin softer, anything you eat tastes better than delicious, the homemade lemonade is sweeter, and most importantly, your desperation has calmed. While you love life on the farm, where living has become succulent under your senses—Max’s attitude has done a complete 180°.

His energy is completely subdued. It’s like Daniel drained the cum and brat out of him. Max is all stuttered words when he makes eye contact with either of you, blushing fully at the lightest tease or brush of skin, voice soft when he speaks, usual bluntness replaced with shyness, and he’s even clingier than normal. If he hasn’t glued himself underneath Daniel’s arm, he’ll be plastered against your back.

You wonder if he’s embarrassed that Daniel changed their “plan” on him at the last minute, or if it’s because Daniel used him as a tool to get you off—but, asking Max would only scare him away or cause the brat to resurface…so you don’t verbalize your theories. You find Max in this state more adorable than usual, and you won’t complain if it means a surplus of Max-cuddles.

Yet, the figurative rug is pulled from beneath your feet when the three of you go Christmas shopping. Daniel had separated from the two of you to go pick up a gift for his nephew, leaving you and Max alone to browse through knickknacks that decorate the shelves. Your eyes were caught by cat ornaments that looked exactly like Jimmy and Sassy but before you could reach out to grab, them Max grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to hide in the next aisle over.

“I want to break Daniel with so many orgasms that he won’t be able to speak by the time we’re done with him,” Max states bluntly. The brat is back.

“Regulate your volume,” you whisper-yell at him, hand moving to cover his mouth as you look around to see if anybody heard your Dutch boyfriend, “We are in public and you decided now is the time to bring this up?!”

He pulls your hand off his face, looking at you with wide eyes, “But, liefje–c’mon! Daniel’s been way too smug recently. Whenever I’m around him he doesn’t miss the chance to mention how he made me cry—made you cry, too!”

“Inside voice, Max,” you bite out, continuing to look at the Christmas decorations in this aisle.

“Fine,” Max whispers, rolling his eyes, “Technically, it’s another Christmas present for him if you think about it.”

“I’m trying not to think about it if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t you want to even the board? Imagine it: Daniel underneath the two of us, and we’re overwhelming him with pleasure. Doesn’t that sound like a good time?”

You stop walking abruptly and Max runs into your back. You spin around and stare at him with narrowed eyes and a flared nose.

“You seriously thought the best time to discuss this is in the middle of a family-friendly store, where our boyfriend is picking up a gift for his nephew?”

“Yes.”

“If you stop talking about it for the entire time we’re shopping today, I’ll consider it. We can discuss this when the phantom feeling of his cum on my skin goes away.”

That evening, you and the Dutchman watch Daniel fix a motorbike out in the driveway from the garage. He’s shirtless, sweat dripping down his face and back, you can see every muscle engage and relax as he moves. He’s silhouetted by the Australian sunset and you hear Max choke on his breath when Daniel’s loose jeans slip down his hips, exposing the waistband of his briefs—twin sighs of disappointment leave you both when he catches and drags them back up. With shaky hands, you grab the pitcher of lemonade you prepared to pour a glass for each of you. Ignoring how you missed the glass on your first few attempts, you two bring the drinks to your lips and dry the cups embarrassingly quickly to satiate your desperation—the lemonade doesn’t help. 

Daniel finishes with the bike and wipes his hands on a towel he had tucked into his back pocket, looking your guys’ way. He smiles brightly—shamefully, you wave in response and Max tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear; the two of you are acting like school girls with a crush. 

The Australian stands and in a few relaxed strides, he comes to a stop in front of you two. 

“Can you pour me a glass, sweetheart?” his request rumbles out velvety.

Stuttering, you scramble to do as he asked and find that Max has reached for the pitcher as well when your hands bump into each other. The two of you freeze and stare at each other with wide eyes; Max’s blush blooms red across his face and yours warms the brown skin of your cheeks. Daniel’s chuckle of amusement snaps you out of it; Max pours the drink, and you hand it off to the Australian, avoiding eye contact. He brings the glass to his lips and drains it dry. You and the Dutchman stare with gaped mouths, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, whimpering and pressing your thighs together at his ah in satisfaction when finished. 

He leans down to place the glass back on the tray and smirks at you and Max, “Absolutely delicious. It almost tastes as sweet as either of you is acting right now.”

Both of you stay silent, squirming in your lawn chairs. Daniel takes a second to slowly press both of your mouths closed with a nudge of his fingers before straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Thank you for the drink, sweetheart,” Daniel cocks his head to the side in question, before winking, his smug aura radiating off of him, “Or should I say, ‘sweethearts?’ As both of you seemed so eager to help me quench my thirst.”

Your mouth pops open again and Max audibly whimpers next to you. Daniel laughs and walks to enter the house, “Don’t feel afraid to join me in the shower.”

The plan is set before Daniel’s out of the shower. You’ve changed into a black mini slip dress, curls loosely cascading down your back as you’ve draped yourself on top of the bed sideways, face-down on your tummy, not caring how the back of your dress has ridden up a couple of inches. Max laid himself on his side next to you, dressed in a navy Enchanté shirt and a pair of Daniel’s briefs that hug at his thighs a little too tightly, and plays with the bottom hem of your dress, letting his fingers drift underneath to press at bruises that haven’t healed from that night. 

At the sound of the shower shutting off, the two of you glance at each other; Max checking in with you one last time before you guys follow through with the plan. At your nod, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips and goes back to fiddling with your dress. You rest your head on your folded arms and as your eyes flutter shut, the bathroom door opens.

You hear Daniel humming some country song and he gets about three steps into the room before he stops abruptly.

“Well, if I had known this would be waiting for me out here, I wouldn’t have spent a lifetime in the shower waiting for you guys to take me up on my offer.”

Max makes a noise of confusion, his hand pausing at your hemline, “What are you talking about? We just thought it would be nice to give you a massage—you know, prevent any muscle tightness from when you were hunched over the bike.”

“Is that so, pretty girl?” Daniel questions you, looking past Max. He’s dried off from his shower already, skin gleaming thanks to your cocoa butter lotion he probably stole, hair still damp but not dripping, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sure he’s trying to sniff out any weakness; to see if he can bend you into revealing Max’s agenda for tonight. Little does he know that you’re not an accomplice, you’ve put a good amount of work into this plan too.

In response, you offer a small smile and hold up a bottle of massage oil that was previously tucked into your side. Daniel’s narrowed eyes flit between the two of you, and then he relaxes, shrugging loftily as he motions for the two of you to move so he can lie down. 

“Okay, sure,” Daniel laughs, falling into the bed as soon as the space is available, lying flat on his stomach, face planting into the pillows and his next words are muffled but loud enough to understand, “You don’t have to use ‘giving me a massage’ as an excuse to feel me up, but I’m not going to turn it down if you’re so willing to do so.”

You and Max are kneeling on opposite sides of Daniel’s body on the bed, resting on the heels of your feet, and you muffle a giggle at Max rolling his eyes at your boyfriend’s words. The younger man slaps his hand on Daniel’s back, grinning at the stifled yelp that sounds from near the headboard, and coos sarcastically, “Do you think you can handle that level of pain? Considering this is a deep-tissue massage?”

You drizzle a nice amount of oil on the middle of his back, letting your laughter escape as Daniel pleads, “Woah—hear me out, what about a regular massage? I would like to end this massage without crying from soreness, please.”

Slowly the two of you turn to look at each other, smiles spreading across your lips, and Max murmurs, “Oh. You’ll be crying by the end of this.”

You ignore Daniel begging for mercy underneath you and beginning massaging. For all of the Dutchman’s ribbing, the two of you are gentle. Your hands soothingly rub any tension out of his back; the two of you are only doing this to melt Daniel into the bed. He protests and grumbles through the both of you digging into his shoulders, but quiets as you make your way down his back, practically moaning when you push a knot out from behind his shoulder blade. Max manages to wrangle out a whimper when he presses his thumb into the dimple of his lower back. Neither of you gets close to the towel resting low on his hips; you want to keep him as calm and unaware as possible, but getting close to that towel would do the opposite. When Daniel’s breathing slows and his sounds of relief start to lessen, Max gently coaxes Daniel into rolling on his back with ease.

The brunette’s eyes flutter open, but you tut disapprovingly when his gaze meets yours. With a kiss on his forehead, Daniel closes his eyes at your word, not fighting you for a second. And from that point, you and Max begin conditioning the older man to get used to only having one pair of hands on him at a time. Max massages his chest, you take a break, you massage his chest, Max takes a break; and as Daniel starts to relax at the rhythm, you guys slowly increase the length of your breaks. 

Until the breaks get long enough to slip the ties that you guys fastened to the headboard out.

Daniel was so entranced at the sight of you and Max sprawled on his bed that he forgot to examine his surroundings. They’re silk ties, with pre-made straps for you to tighten as soon as his hands are inside them. The two of you take it to the next step; you each begin to massage his arms (still employing your regular breaks), raising them upwards to “get a better angle.” Daniel doesn’t even shift at the change, he just hums under his breath when either of you soothes across a good spot. And with little effort, you and Max raise both of his arms and smoothly slip his tattooed hands into the ties, tightening the straps in the blink of an eye.

The older man startles, eyes flying open as he tries to yank his wrists free of the binds, “Uhhhh, what the fuck?”

Both of you watch as Daniel tries to free himself without any luck, enjoying the show as the silk ties prove they won’t give out. Chills shudder down your spine as your older boyfriend tries to order the two of you to release him, but he must see the feral glint shine in your eyes because he switches to asking when neither of you moves.

“You know what to say if you really want us to let you go, Daniel,” Max states bluntly, pulling off his Enchanté shirt easily. 

You hum in agreement, straddling the Australian’s hips and simultaneously tugging your slip dress over your head and tossing it to the side, exposing your bare body before seating yourself on the bulge showing through the towel. Daniel chokes out a curse, his eyes dancing between yours and Max’s bodies being dangled in front of his face without being able to touch.

He tests the binds for any give half-heartedly before sniffing dismissively, jaw tightening as he challenges Max, “Do your worst, baby.”

Max scoffs out a laugh, “That is the plan.”

From there you and Max turn into savages. Both of you bypass kissing Daniel, pressing lips and biting bruises along his neck and torso instead. The man can only cry out as Max terrorizes his nipples with teeth and pinching fingers while you paint marks on his hipbones and navel. The older man isn’t convinced that the night will end without the two of you seriously attempting cannibalism but the thought is pushed away when the towel is tugged off his hips.

Max laughs mockingly and flicks Daniel’s already-hardened length, “Well, this will be even easier than we thought, liefje.”

“I was half-hard from the minute you guys put your hands on me,” Daniel snipes, “Don’t let this go to your head.”

You raise an eyebrow in question, tilting your head to the side innocently which contrasts the strong grasp of your hand around the head of Daniel’s cock, “Isn’t that a compliment, though? Anyways, it clearly went to your head.”

Daniel groans in pleasure as you start to rapidly stroke along his quickly reddening length, “That was a terrible pun–fuck–but, I’m only letting it slide because your hand is on my cock.”

He bucks up into your fist and you release him immediately, smiling as you see him choke down a whimper of disappointment. The older man isn’t left alone for long, as Max drags the tip of his index finger along the slit of Daniel’s cock before flattening his palm across the head and roughly circling it to overwhelm him with an alarming amount of pleasure-coated friction. 

The brunette can’t stifle his cries this time nor can he buck his hips, thanks to the Dutchman pinning him down with his free forearm. Max pulls both of his hands away quickly, delighting in Daniel’s sounds of displeasure, the two of you watching as he attempts to chase a hand that isn’t there anymore. His length is throbbing, pulsing angrily, redder than the blush that stains his tanned chest. You swallow wantingly. Both of you thought that you would be able to get a few more rounds out of a handjob, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Max gets his hand around the base and yours circles the tip. Simultaneously, the two of you start rubbing him off in time, keeping your fists just tight enough and your motions just quick enough to hurtle Daniel to the edge. He throws his head back into the pillows, hips freely bucking as neither one of you attempts to stop him, his hands pulling against the ties all the while,

“You can cum whenever you want, Daniel,” Max states.

The older man lets out several pants of desperation, calling both of your names as he nears his climax. And when you both see the telltale sign of Daniel’s chest rising and falling heavily, you release his cock.

“No! Wait–shit,” he tries to gasp, but it’s too late. His cock starts leaking, jerking pathetically as cum drips down his length in ribbons—his orgasm ruined. Dry sobs escape his lungs as he humps the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, continuing to beg for a hand even as he struggles to breathe as a result of the unsatisfying release.

You let him come down hard, offering support in a quick squeeze of the meat of his thigh over his tattoo. When he catches his breath, his eyes flutter open. Max sees the wetness gathered in the waterlines and moves in the blink of an eye, enveloping Daniel’s still-hard cock in his mouth. 

The Australian’s back arches off the bed, hips racing forward then backward as he cries out, unsure if the feeling of Max’s mouth is good. Both pairs of your hands fly forward to still Daniel, forcing him to feel every crevice of Max’s tongue and throat, trying to bring him to another orgasm as quickly as possible. It works, Daniel stops fighting and starts obeying, rolling upward into Max’s mouth, whimpering out depravedly as he struggles against his binds again. You see his abs start to undulate in waves, a second orgasm trying to form and you slip your hand underneath Max’s chin, lightly squeezing at Daniel’s balls—and the tears fall as his release slams into him like a semi-truck.

The younger man swallows around Daniel, humming as he does it, yet the bobbing motion of his head doesn’t stop—Max is going to try his hardness to prevent Daniel from going soft, even as the older man tries to fight and twist away from the wet grasp of his throat. The Australian’s tears paint his cheek as he sobs messily, and you’re quick to check in with him as Max’s mouth is occupied.

“Daniel, color?” you manage to make your voice sound steady, but your thighs are trembling, your cunt pulsing with wetness and need. 

The man whimpers, eyes unseeingly looking down at you and Max as he cries messily, “Green.”

You moan breathily, finally giving in to your urges and rushing forward to messily kiss Daniel. You let him cry into your mouth, nipping at his lips and tasting his tears before pulling away. Max pulls off Daniel’s cock with a reedy gasp and moves backward quickly so you can slip in between them, seating your cunt atop the half-hard length and beginning to grind along him. The brunette makes a sound as if he’s been punched in the gut, arms pausing in their fight against the ties before they resume with renewed strength. Daniel scrambles to get his feet underneath him, trying to buck off the hot, wet drag of your cunt against his cock. It’s pulsing so violently that he swears he can feel it in his throat. 

Max knocks his feet down, and tugs Daniel’s chin to look at him with a hardened grasp, with his voice rough and croaky he commands, “Can you give us one more, Daniel?”

Daniel's glossy, brown eyes stare at Max without answer, mouth parted as drool slips from the corners of his lips. The Dutchman’s brow tightens with worry and he releases his chin to pull you off. But, before he can stop you, Daniel gasps out desperately.

“M’ green—please, please, Max,” Daniel nods viciously, “Green, green—one more.”

The younger man soothes Daniel with sweet words, praising and comforting him as he leans forward to pepper his lips and neck with kisses and kitten licks, pausing to motion you to continue. 

You line up Daniel’s cock easily and murmur out a ‘thank you’, before sinking down and not stopping until your ass meets his pelvis, uncaring of how he attempts to shake you off. His body is reacting in too much, but Max and you both see and hear how his brain interprets it as too good. 

You keen in pleasure but your noises are deafened by Daniel’s cries and begs for relief. Well aware that you have to get yourself off so Max can have a turn, you find that toe-curling angle with the help of Max directing your hips, holding yourself steady with one hand behind you on the bed and the other drawing rapid circles on your clit. Max moves to let you rest your back along his chest, your frizzed curls a mess as they bounce with your movements. 

The visual stimulation of Daniel in front of you moaning and heaving for more, the frantic twitching of his length inside of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his, and Max’s voice ghosting right by your ear, the ‘good girl’ that left his lips taking a second to process; all of it pushes you into the abyss. You don’t know if it’s you or Daniel that screams, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision flashing white clouds your mind as the explosion of pleasure burns your nerve endings. 

With a choked ‘fuck,’ you slump over, slipping off his twitching cock and slinking down next to Daniel as you shiver and shake through the last dregs of pleasure. Max flutters over both of you, unsure if he should keep pushing the limit, but both you and Daniel yell confirmations of “Green!” that have Max ripping off his briefs, reaching between his legs and whimpering as he carefully tugs out the plug he’s had in for the entire time.

Daniel’s eyes roll in disbelief, his brain exhausted to the point where he can’t string together any words to communicate his confusion.

Max huffs out a hysterical giggle, one hand stroking along his cock as he tosses the plug off the side of the bed. “Fuck–you were in the shower forever, Daniel. I’ve had that in for too long.”

The younger man shakes as he lowers himself on Daniel’s cock, bottoming out with a whimper as he mouths down at Daniel, “Just one more, baby, okay? Make me come, yeah?”

The older man’s moan is curdled with overstimulation, but he finds the will to get his feet underneath him and shakily thrust upwards into Max, hoping somehow that that’s enough. Max lets his head fall back in pleasure, thankful for the moving pressure of Daniel’s cock inside of him rather than the consistent annoyance of the plug holding him open. Coupled with the stretch of his rim and his hand furiously twisting along his length, Max reaches his peak quickly.

Before taking the plunge, he chokes out words of praise at Daniel and you rush to do the same, understanding that Max is attempting to push Daniel over the edge as well. You see tears of frustration build in Daniel’s eyes as he struggles to fully give in, and you fall forward to tug at his nipples with your teeth, reinvigorating Daniel’s attempts at slipping from the silk ties. At the sight, Max shouts, body tightening and then relaxing as he strokes out ribbons of cum. Daniel’s hips stutter when the first drop of cum lands on his skin and you feel his lungs halt as the strongest orgasm—most likely dry, at that—wreaks havoc upon his body.

His body goes limp underneath the two of you, and his hands droop in their binds. You speedily untie Daniel’s arms as Max slowly slips off the man’s rapidly softening length, trying to lessen any unwanted stimulation for the unaware Australian. You catch his arms before they fall against the bed, rubbing your hands against them to coax proper blood flow in them. Spent, Max stumbles to Daniel’s side, taking one arm out of your hands and matching your movements.

“Good job, liefje,” Max breathes out, smiling up at you with an exhausted smile, his hair drenched with sweat and falling in front of his eyes. You blush and kiss him sweetly, “It was your idea!”

Max shakes his head, pausing his hands to reach down and brush Daniel’s curls off his forehead, “No; you made half of the plan. So, it was our idea.”

The Australian groans, eyes fluttering open but they’re still clouded enough that you both know he’s going to need more than enough TLC tonight, “ —idea made me think i w‘sgonna die.”

Max laughs, rubbing circles around the man’s temple, “I guess we forgot to factor in your old age as a variable, didn’t we, liefje?”

Daniel’s face flutters in displeasure at being referred to as “old,” even when he’s not quite come down, “Mean, Maxy.”

You giggle, “That’s what he calls mean out of this entire experience?”

The Dutchman presses kisses to both of your foreheads before he stumbles out of bed, “I’m going to grab some fruit and cream for Daniel’s wrists. Should I grab anything else?” He directs the question to you.

Of course, the Australian jumps in before you have the chance to respond, “Lemonade, please.”

© httpsserene2024

[egg-but-with-style]

Butcher ghost 2, electric boogalo

Tw: definitely ooc

1 2 3

You were panicking at the moment, standing outside his shops door. Holding day old chicken spadini in your hands. You threw in some fettuccine alfredo that you had made too.

You had texted him yesterday night, after you left your parents house, waiting until you got home to decide if you wanted to talk to him or not. Of course you did, he was handsome, or atleast his eyes looked handsome. Or maybe you just had a thing for guys with huge arms and a small penchant for violence.

When you had texted him, he seemed so dry. Only a couple word responses, then he told you to meet him inside his shop, said Tuesdays were always slow. In the back of your head, there was a little common sense. 'What if he's actually a serial killer? How do you know he isn't a creep?' which were questions you should've probably taken more seriously, but the knife and taser in your purse gave you reassurance.

You finally, having some courage, pulled open the door and went in. He seemed alot less focused today, like he was waiting for something. You watched his head snap up once the door closed, it letting out a slight creak.

He was surprised when you actually texted him, he was speechless when you agreed to come back to the shop, and now that it was all real, you standing in front of the counter, it made his jaw hit the floor.

He wasn't good at romance, or first impressions, or flirting. But he liked what he saw, he liked what he heard. He also might've stalked your socials after you told him your name over text. Only to check if you had a partner, definitely only that.

You saw him looked a little surprised, but the mask definitely blocked most of the facial expressions you would've seen, which he was thankful for. You spoke up, "Hi, Simon. I um.. bought the chicken..oh and I put some pasta in there too, figured chicken wasn't a balanced meal on its own and all that." You walked over to the counter and set down the Tupperware container. He spoke, his voice a little less rough today for some reason. "Mum used to tell me I couldn't just eat meat, now I run a butcher shop"

You let out a giggle. Your round cheeks becoming almost circles as you smiled. He felt his face heating up behind his mask, which was already so humid. He swore if he looked in a mirror now, he'd see his pupils being about the size of a saucer. He cleared his throat, trying not to feel embarrassed.

"It..it looks good though."

He hadn't eaten for the last 5 hours just because he wanted to be able to eat whatever you gave him. (Including dessert, if you catch my drift) Which you seemed to give him an ample portion, he was a big guy after all.

You thought he seemed a tiny bit nervous. Was it..you that was making him nervous? You shook off the idea, maybe he was just a little jumpy specifically on Tuesdays.

"Do..do you want to try some? I heated it up before I drove here. Even though you probably have a microwave.."

You realized maybe it was kind of a stupid idea to heat it up for him, but you had been so worried he might not have liked it. So you just wanted him to eat it as soon as possible. Not wanting to deal with the fear.

"No, no that's fine. I'd have to run all the way upstairs to my flat to heat it up anyway."

You watched him slowly open the container and pull up his mask just slightly to get the smell in. It seemed like his shoulders physically relaxed once he got a good sniff in. It was kinda cute.

"Do..do you want me to look away or?"

You weren't sure if the mask was just for protection, or if he just didn't like people seeing his face. He looked at you and seemed a little stunned that you asked. He slowly shook his head. "It's alright."

He hoped you wouldn't judge him because of his face, of all the scars, from acne and otherwise, not to mention the nose that had clearly been broken before, but when he pulled down the mask fully, you swore you were seeing something carved from marble.

His nose was crooked, a few scars lining the philtrum and the bridge. Then to his lips, the top one have a scar through the left side and slightly cleft because of it. His jaw and chin were just as impressive, being a bit soft, but still so pretty.

"You're beautiful.." you quickly covered your mouth, looking embarrassed for even saying that. "I..I'm so sorry! I didn't, I wasn't thinking.." Oh you were thinking, you were just thinking about how handsome he was.

That's when you saw his face turn a bit red. "Its..it's no problem. Don't worry about it" He looked away for a second, coughing and then looking back to you. Trying to play off the blush finding it's way to his ears.

He picked up a fork he brought down here specifically for the chicken you were bringing him. He felt kind of like a dork, but all that was forgotten when he took a bite of the chicken. He even let out a little groan. The seasoning, the flavor from the overnight marination in the sauces. He felt like he was in heaven, he looked like he was too.

Once he chewed and swallowed, he spoke up. "This is really fucking good." He really wanted to scarf it down right in front of you, but he already felt embarrassed and vulnerable enough, so he closed the container, to his own dismay. "I'll eat the rest of it once I close down shop. I..I wanted to ask you something"

You had been staring in awe at his reaction to your cooking, snapping out of it once he addressed you directly. You had a feeling what he was gonna ask, you just hoped you were right. "What did you wanna ask me?"

He blurted it out, hoping if he said it fast enough you'd just say yes. "Do you wanna go on a date with me?" Was it a little werid to ask the lady he just met yesterday out on a date? Yes. Yes it was. But he could care less. He knew he couldn't charm you the normal way, so it was a Hail Mary.

You heart fluttered a little, hearing the words come from his lips. "YES! I..I mean sure. Yeah, totally." You really didn't mean to yell but who gets the chance to go on a date with a beefcake like him everyday?

Your enthusiastic reply made his lips quirk up into a small smile. He was glad you were just as nervous, terrified, and frankly down bad as he was.

While you were indeed as taken as him as he was with you, you were still a woman and wanted to meet in a public place. You had some common sense left. "How does coffee on Saturday sound? Or..or tea if you don't like coffee.." He in fact did not like coffee. His smile got a little wider and he nodded. "Sounds like a date."

Authors note: In my au, I don't think ghost joined the military, but I do think he did some boxing in his teens and early 20s, definitely getting roughed up alot. I'm not sure if I'm happy with how I wrote this, so who knows I might rewrite it in the future.

I also wanted to thank you guys for 300 some notes on the first part of this! I'm really new to writing, and I'm glad you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy making it. Also, I'm a dork and a goofy ghost believer, so deal! Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!

[struggling-with-drivers]

People Watching - Lando Norris

⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader

⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have

⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more. 

“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.

“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into. 

Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment. 

“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food. 

You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others. 

“How long do you think they’ve been together?” 

“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking. 

“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you. 

“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.” 

You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe. 

After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.

“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”

You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”

“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player. 

“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth. 

“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”

The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.

The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.

At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.

However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.

Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.

With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.

Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.

“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”

“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”

“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate. 

He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you. 

“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating. 

Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together. 

As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.

There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.

Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.

Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.

"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."

You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."

You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."

"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.

You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."

Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"

"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort, 

He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."

"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head. 

"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.

As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.

And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.

Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.

A thought strikes you down.

Do you love Lando?

Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.

An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes. 

Does Lando love you?

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

♡ Bakugou/ Fem Reader/ Kirishima

♡ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

♡ Warnings; reader is 6 months pregnant, cursing, pussy eating, blowjobs [ M/F — M/M ], vaginal sex

If you were to describe what it’s like to be six months pregnant with Katsuki’s baby, you would use a few key phrases.

1. — You’re in a perpetual cycle of unease and sporadic body aches.

2. — You’re consistently sweating like a whore in church.

3. — Your belly has been stretched to the point it looks as if a watermelon has been shoved inside.

These occur often, the only difference today is how infuriatingly much your lower back has been smarting. The baby’s weight is really starting to take a toll on you.

So you’ve decided it’s in your best interest to set up camp on the large fuzzy couch in your living room. You’re only wearing soft shorts and a large, worn out Red Riot T-shirt and you’ve stockpiled all the cozy blankets in the near vicinity.

It’d been a few hours since you became a couch potato, aimlessly scrolling through your phone and watching various movies or TV shows.

Katsuki’s been occupied playing some video game in the other room. Loudly enough to wake the dead, you might add. Your ears have been assaulted with his furious yelling on and off for the past couple hours.

He’s repeatedly told Todoroki that he’s the “worst player in existence” and to “fuck off and die.” You sincerely hope Todoroki is ribbing him just as much, but knowing the stoic man, he more than likely isn’t.

And much to your chagrin, Eijirou has been out on patrol all day.

Soft orange and yellow light has begun to cast shadows across the living room as the sun sets. You’re barely paying attention to a Tik Tok when your baby starts to poke and prod roughly at your ribs.

The fluttering sensation makes you squirm and sit up ram-rod straight. The sudden movement sends a bright flash of pain radiating throughout your lower back and it punches the breath from your lungs. The partially frantic instinct to call out to the blonde for help leaves your mouth before you can think twice.

“Kastukiiiii,” you whine for him loudly, a pleading lilt to your tone. You shift your weight, making sure to keep your feet perched on the large ottoman in front of you. You wait momentarily but only silence greets you.

“Katsuki!” You shout, mildly irritated. Your eyes widen and you inhale sharply when a tiny foot kicks you. You place a hand there and rub apologetically. Apparently she does not want you to yell. You roll your eyes and think that your daughter is certainly going to have Katsuki’s bad attitude.

“Baby, I heard you! I’m coming — just a second!” Katsuki snaps. You huff, cheeks puffing and burning when your temper flares a bit in response. You breathe deeply, resting both hands on your swollen stomach as the tiny feet continue to try and burst out of your skin like a scene from Alien.

Katsuki’s soft footsteps signal his approach and he rounds the corner into your living room leisurely. He comes to a stop next to your legs and your brows furrow when you gaze up at him with a slight pout. He arches one eyebrow in return and folds his arms over his chest, pointedly saying nothing.

“Kat, baby daddy, can you do the thing please? My back is killing me.”

Despite your discomfort you can’t help but appreciate his slender frame. His black sweats hang low on his hips and he’s fucking shirtless. He rolls his eyes when he catches you but wears a smug smirk nonetheless.

“Can your dramatic ass wait five minutes while I finish this round of my game? I’m obliterating Icy Hot.” His grin turns a bit feral and he cocks hip to one side, resting a hand there.

You protest accordingly and push your lower lip out.

“That’s too long! Can you do it later? Your baby needs you.” Over exaggerating your movements, you flop back against the couch and run your hands over your baby bump and stare up at him through your lashes. Katsuki snorts.

“It’s five minutes sweetheart. C’mon, Todoroki fucking sucks at this game,” Katsuki says with amusement, absently running a hand through his fluffy spikes of hair.

You press a hand to your forehead as if you might faint.

“You’re the reason I’m like this! The least you can do is help out your pregnant wife.”

“Oi!” He lets out a bark of laughter. “It takes two people to fuck and make a baby, I’m not the only guilty party. Why isn’t Eijirou gettin’ any fuckin’ blame for this huh? He was there too!”

Katsuki complains but it’s with considerable ease that he bends to your whim, shoving the ottoman closer and motioning for you to scoot up so he can get behind you on the couch.

“He’s not home right now,” you mutter childishly, heeding his instructions. The blonde crawls on to the cushions, maneuvering until he slots into the space between you and the backrest. He lets a thigh bracket you on each side and tugs you back into his chest, replying just as petulantly.

“Maybe you should’ve let Ei get you pregnant first then.”

“Oh god,” you start to whine. “Fuck baby, wanna see you swollen with my baby so bad. Blah blah — I’m Katsuki and I’m a giant fucking hypocrite,” you mock in a high pitched, horrific imitation of his voice.

To be fair he did whine those things to you and Eijirou in bed multiple times before you all finally agreed to it. Katsuki sputters behind you and pinches your thigh in retaliation.

“You’re such a fucking terror! I should make you wait until Eijirou gets home,” he growls, pathetic attempt at a threat making you giggle.

His palms are warm when he slips them under your shirt and places them on the underside of your belly, fingers spread. Katsuki delicately presses upwards and you deflate, melting into his chest. The immediate relief of pressure on your lower back makes you moan.

“Yeah, but we both know you won’t,” you reply smugly, hands coming to rest on his. He hums, electing not to respond with words because he knows he’s wrapped around your finger.

Katsuki can deny it all he pleases, but the man loves holding your belly. He’s struck with awe each time he’s lucky enough to feel his daughter kicking. He kisses the back of your head, relaxing into the couch for the time being.

You both turn your attention to the movie you had playing earlier and your eyelids start to flutter. Your chest is gooey and warm, you’re basically a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie in his arms.

Katsuki gets invested in one scene in particular, making snarky comments about the graphics and your daughter apparently recognizes her daddy’s voice, because suddenly she’s playing kick ball again.

Directly into Katsuki’s hands.

“Holy shit!” The blonde jolts, freezing temporarily before pressing the pads of his fingertips into the same spot, attempting to coax her into kicking him again. His heart thumps hard on your back, the heat from his chest bleeding through your shirt.

“She’s been really active today, but she must’ve heard her daddy talking. I think she likes your voice Kat.” You smile softly, adjusting your weight to get more comfortable. “I hope she does the same when Ei gets home, he was sad last time he missed it.” You tip your head back on Katsuki’s shoulder, twisting your neck to get a peak at his face.

“She’s fucking fiesty,” he says with no small amount of pride. She’ll respond to Ei, she loves him.” A tender smile softens his sharp features and your chest cracks with overflowing adoration. Surging forward you brush your lips over his jaw and Katsuki makes a quiet noise of surprise.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. You hum contentedly and Katsuki goes back to holding up your belly.

A familiar vibration pattern breaks the atmosphere and buzzes near your leg. You pick up your phone, taking note that it’s a message from Eijirou and your face lights up.

“Ei messaged that he’s gonna be home soon,” you tell Katsuki eagerly. You can’t help the excitement fluttering in your belly when you think about getting to see the red head soon.

“Bout damn time, my arms are gonna fall off,” he teases, tickling the smooth skin of your belly with calloused thumbs and you laugh.

“Alright dickwad get out from behind me.” Katsuki pokes your ribs in retaliation, ripping a squeal from you and you wiggle in his grip. “You’re lucky I can’t get up quickly right now! I’d kick your ass, you shitty excuse for a bomb!”

Katsuki halts his movements and gasps dramatically in fake offense, squeezing his arms around your shoulders.

“Shitty excuse for a bomb??” He asks incredulously, accidentally chuckling at the end of his sentence. You nod once and he hugs you tight, planting several chaste kisses on your cheek. You laugh delightedly and turn your head briefly to snag his plush lips with your own.

The sound of your front door opening gets you to break apart, both turning your heads to see Eijirou waltz in. The smile he wears is as vibrant as the sun, all his razor edged teeth on display.

“Aww! What a sweet sight to come home too!” Eijirou chirps, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So cute! All three of my babies snuggling on the couch together,” he coos and strides closer until he’s right by your side.

Eijirou’s dressed in street clothes. He’s got on dark gray sweats, a red tee and a white bandana tied around his head. Per usual, his arms may bust out of the shirt he’s wearing but it’s unbearably hot.

“Get lost on the way home red?” Katsuki taunts. The blonde lets go of your shoulders as you strain to get out of his hold. Katsuki gently pushes you to sit up straight with a supporting hand between your shoulder blades. Eijirou rolls his eyes playfully and shoves the ottoman out of the way to make space for himself between your legs.

“No, I’m actually home earlier than I thought I would be,” he replies, dropping to kneel in front of you. Katsuki takes the opportunity to slip out from behind you and sit next to you instead. You use a lot of willpower to keep a straight face when you speak next.

“Thank God, because apparently Katsuki isn’t strong enough to hold our 5lb baby without his arms falling off.”

You can make out the sound of Katsuki’s teeth grinding together as Eijirou’s bright laughter dances in the air. You’re poking the bear but it’s a breeze to rile up the blonde.

“Is that so?” Eijirou asks, eyes twinkling as he pretends to appear thoughtful when he turns to Katsuki.

“I can hold a fucking five pound baby!” Katsuki snarls harmlessly, yet he throws his hands up in the air. You choke on the swell of laughter that builds in your throat. Eijirou snickers and pushes the red riot T-shirt you’re wearing up to expose your baby bump.

“I know Kat, just teasing,” you placate, sending him your sweetest smile. Eijirou splays his hands on the sides of your belly and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

The blonde scowls but he can’t keep it up for long before he breaks, scoffing with a smile threatening to take over his lips.

“How’s she been today?” Eijirou questions you then, nuzzling his nose over the top of your belly.

“She’s a spitfire.” Katsuki’s chest puffs out a bit.

“So just like her daddy then?” Eijirou teases, brushing his lips over your belly in a sweet kiss. Katsuki’s smirks.

“Hell yeah she is.”

“She’s been moving a lot today Ei, Kat’s just happy she kicked the shit out of him earlier,” you explain, scratching the red head’s scalp. Eijirou hums, tracing the pattern of a heart into your stomach with his thumbs.

“Hi feisty girl, papa Ei is home,” he purrs. “I heard you were trying to kick box with your daddy today. You’re gonna be just like him,” he whispers, the affection effortlessly falling off his tongue. The red head’s eyes flutter closed, resting his forehead against you.

You jerk in surprise when Eijirou’s head suddenly shoots up, narrowly avoiding head butting the shit out of you. He stares at your belly with bright eyes. Your baby just kicked where his forehead had been. He looks up, gaze tracking between you and Katsuki with stars in his eyes as he vibrates with excitement.

“Did you feel that baby? Oh my god! Kat, she heard me!” The red head yells, almost tripping over his words. His cheeks are dusted with a pale pink and your own twinge from smiling so wide. You tug on the soft strands of his hair you have tangled between your fingers.

“Dammit Eijirou,” Katsuki chimes in, crossing his arms. “Stop being so-,” he pauses, looking for the right words. “So fucking cute!” You laugh when the blonde curls his lip, the man’s flushed to the tips of his cute pink ears. A sly expression immediately takes over Eijirou’s face.

He slips your shirt back down and you free his hair from your grip. You meet him halfway when he leans up to give you a chaste kiss.

The red head shuffles on his knees until he’s between Katsuki’s thighs. He leans in, locking his arms around the blonde’s waist and wiggling his eyebrows up at him. Katsuki’s eyes narrow but he places his elbows on Eijirou’s shoulders.

Your toes curl into the plush rug below when the red head smoothes his hands up and down Katsuki’s sides, a shiver wracking through the blonde before Eijirou squishes his face into the others’s chest and hugs him tight.

“Eijirou.” The name spills out of Katsuki breathlessly.

“You’re so sweet Katsuki. I think you’re cute too,” he says, words muffled by a bare chest. Heat crawls up your neck when the blonde tugs Eijirou close and mumbles “I love you,” under his breath. Seeing them like this sets your nerves alight, even with something as simple as hugging.

The moment is picturesque until a pang of hunger rolls around inside you. Placing a hand on the underside of your belly, you worry at your bottom lip. You don’t want to break up the tender scene, but it seems your daughter is hungry.

“I hate to burst the bubble, but our daughter is starving,” you say gently, grinning when they part. Eijirou kisses Katsuki sweetly, making a loud smooching sound when he pulls away. Katsuki makes a disgusted noise and pushes playfully at the red head’s shoulder when they both rise from their spots. “Will you make something Kat?” You ask hopefully.

“I swear you and Eijirou are like bottomless fucking pits,” he grumbles, turning and padding to the kitchen.

He’s not fooling anyone, you all know he loves cooking for you. Especially now that your daughter is almost here. He expresses his love through his food and you all reap the rewards.

You share a smile with Eijirou and the large man flops down onto the couch, trying not to jostle you.

“Thanks Kat!” You call at his retreating back and he throws a hand up over his shoulder in response.

“Sooo, can I hold your belly now?” Eijirou asks impatiently. He doesn’t wait for you answer, maneuvering until he’s lying on the armrest, legs splayed open wide for you.

“You don’t have to ask me twice. She definitely has been missing her papa.” You grab your discarded blanket from the couch, sliding back into his embrace. You pull your blanket up to your chest, covering you both and Eijirou teases his fingers underneath your shirt.

“I love your shirt, pretty girl,” he whispers sweet like honey in your ear, gingerly touch his lips to your throat. The combination sends a warm tingle down your spine. He yanks a tiny shocked moan from you when he bites your shoulder and lifts your belly simultaneously.

“Jesus Eijirou,” you breathe, weaving your fingers together. The simmering warmth pooling in your belly is becoming difficult to ignore. “Are you trying to fuck me on the couch?” You shift back and a half hard cock greets you. Fuck, you’d be a damn liar if you said that didn’t turn you on. His light exhale tickles your neck.

“Maybe,” he says coyly, hitching his hips upwards to rub his cock over your lower back. You pinch his thigh and he groans, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I can’t help it,” Eijirou whines, continuing to lift your belly. “You’re so sweet and so warm like this, I want you.”

“After we eat Ei, I promise. Kat will be up for it,” you murmur, trailing your fingers over his forearm. Eijirou sighs but reluctantly he agrees.

After you ate, it took no time at all for the blonde to usher you and Eijirou into the bedroom.

Since then you’ve been stripped bare, elbows supporting your weight on the short wooden headboard behind you. They ache a bit where the sharp edge digs into the inner joint of it.

Katsuki’s head is caged between your thighs, knees sinking into the memory foam mattress below. His scratchy stubble tickles your skin while he buries his face in your pussy, head shifting from side to side.

You’ve opted to sit reverse cowgirl on his face so you’re privy to the front row view of Eijirou swallowing down Katsuki’s cock like he’s starving.

“Fffuck Kat,” you whine, rolling your hips and gliding your pussy over his plush lips. Katsuki moans, snaking his arms around your thighs and yanking you further down so he can dip the tip of his tongue inside you.

Your head tilts towards the ceiling, eyes fluttering and fingers curling into fists as Kastuki pushes his tongue to your clit, swirling it restlessly. The background is filled with the lewd schlick noise of Eijirou sucking cock.

Katsuki moves his lips from side to side over your clit before once again licking firm strokes and your head snaps back up with a gasp.

You’re starting to squirm, heat pooling in your cheeks as he works you closer to the edge. A prickle of warmth pulses through your pelvis when you lock eyes with Eijirou.

No man should look so pretty with a dick in their mouth. His cheeks are candy apple red and his lips are stretched tight around Katsuki. He seems quite comfortable, snugly fit between the blonde’s thighs and meeting Katsuki thrust for shallow thrust while the blonde leisurely fucks his mouth.

Eijirou sends a wink your way and you’re gawking at him when Katsuki sucks harshly on your clit, wrenching your attention back to his mouth. A let out a yelp and your thighs twitch when he does it once more, demanding your focus stay on him.

Try as you might you’re torn between Katsuki’s warm tongue working you over and the indecent sight of Eijirou.

You’re impatient and desperate to change positions before someone cums too quickly and so you plead for the attention of the man underneath you.

“Katsuki,” you moan, fingers circling his wrists. “Wanna switch baby, please.” He drags his teeth delicately over your clit and your breath stutters in your chest. Katsuki unwinds himself from your legs, pushing against your ass instead of tugging on you and you lift your hips from his face.

Eijirou pulls off with a pop, Katsuki’s thick cock slapping against his lower belly. The red head sits up on his knees, gripping the base of his own neglected desire and pushes back the messy strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

Katsuki slips out from under you, sitting between the two of you so you’re able to sit comfortably on your calves.

“Whaddaya want pretty girl? Ei and I will give you whatever you need,” Katsuki purrs, half a smirk tugging at his lips. The red head makes a noise of agreement and waits patiently for your answer. A flush creeps up your neck under the weight of their gaze and you absentmindedly rest a hand on your belly.

“I think I want Ei to position us however he wants. Ya know, since he’s been trying to get us in bed ever since he got home.” You grin playfully at Eijirou when he makes a noise of protest, a pink blush dusting over his cheekbones. Katsuki snickers nearby.

“Oh,” Eijirou breathes, grinning sheepishly and rubbing a hand over his forearm. “Well, I mean — yeah. Yes, totally I can do that.”

Katsuki snorts, waving a vague hand in front of himself when Eijirou takes too long to respond.

“Well? You goin’ to fuckin’ move us around or not?” Katsuki asks rudely. Eijirou ignores him, rolling his jaw a couple times before biting into his bottom lip. You punch Katsuki in the shoulder and give him a pointed look but he just rolls his eyes.

“Okay baby, c’mere please,” he requests warmly, reaching a hand out to you. You comply, gripping his fingers as he helps you shuffle forward on your knees. Once you get to him, he helps you twist until your back faces the edge of the bed.

He holds both hands, slowly reclining you until you’re flat on your back and your head dangles off the edge of the mattress. Your heart rate spikes when you’re slightly suffocated by your baby bump, but it’s comfortable enough for what you’re sure Eijirou has in mind.

“Okay Katsuki, go stand near her head. I want watch you fuck her throat while I’m inside her,” he commands shyly, flush traveling down his chest as he traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He takes his place between your spread thighs. Katsuki starts to heft himself off the bed, closing the distance between you with a few steps.

“Didn’t feel like gettin’ your ass torn up today Eijirou?” Katsuki’s grins with his teeth, cockiness seeping from him.

“Shut up,” Eijirou mumbles, helping you bend your knees and plant your feet. You try to stifle your laughter with a hand over your mouth but it spills out of you despite your best effort.

To be fair, Eijirou does melt into a drooling fucked out mess in the sheets every time he bottoms for the other man.

Katsuki comes to a standstill just in front of your head, reaching down to cradle the back of your skull and force you to look up at him. His flushed cock grazes your cheek and you suck your bottom lip behind your teeth when you finally make eye contact.

“You okay with this sweetheart?” Katsuki’s gaze is intense, the thumb of his free hand swiping over your brow bone. Your throat clicks when you swallow and you nod, fighting the urge to shift your head and kiss his shaft.

“I’ll be fine Kat, if it’s too much I’ll tap your thigh twice.” You reach backwards and secure your arms around the backs of his legs for emphasis.

“So fuckin’ pretty and smart baby girl,” Katsuki coos, voice a rumble in his throat and his praise makes your blood sing. He grips the base of his cock and shifts forward to rub his head over your lips. Your tongue darts out involuntarily to taste him and a salty tang bursts across your taste buds.

“Ei!” You gasp, startling when the red head’s thumb presses into your swollen clit, circling it slowly. You start to squirm and sink your nails into Katsuki’s thighs as your eyes squeeze shut. “C’mon Ei, stop teasing and fuck me.” Eijirou giggles.

“Okay okay. You’re so needy tonight, I love it,” Eijirou gushes. The blunt head of his cock pokes at your clit before sliding down, a steady pressure against your lips before he pushes inside. You cry out sharply, hanging onto Katsuki for dear life while Eijirou’s thick cock stretches you to the max.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. That tight little pussy loves Eijirou, doesn’t she?” Katsuki says breathlessly, moaning softly as he strokes his cock. “He’s so big, isn’t he baby? Feels good huh?”

You can only nod, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back when Eijirou bottoms out with a choked off moan. Pleasure blisters through you when he draws his hips back and thrusts forward roughly.

“Oh my god. You’re a dream baby,” Eijirou whines, settling one hand on your knee and the other on your baby bump. Your vision is obscured by Katsuki’s thighs but Eijirou’s praise burns in your brain.

“Jesus Christ,” Katsuki snarls, tapping your cheek twice. “Open up for me princess.” Your lips part obediently and Katsuki braces a knee of the bed, the other leg standing firm. His groin tightens in anticipation at the sight of you flushed and pliant.

He squeezes one of your tits and tilts his hips down to guide his cock inside and he glides smoothly along your soft pallet. You close your lips and suck tentatively until he jerks forward and smacks the back of your throat, breath catching in his chest.

Eijirou starts to pick up the pace, the obscenity in front of him spurring on his own desire and he hits your g-spot with scary precision. Your resulting moan is muffled by the cock in your mouth as Katsuki fucks your throat and Eijirou begins babbling encouragingly.

“Oh — shit, right there yeah baby? Feels too good, I can’t believe how tight you are. You’re gorgeous like this sweetheart, you love when I tell you how pretty you are don’t you?”

His voice is fuzzy to your ears, the prominent ache in your jaw coming to the forefront. Katsuki’s paying attention, however and taunts him even if the sweet words make his cock twitch.

“God Ei, you just can’t stop yappin’ can you?”

Eijirou whines pitifully, rolling his hips a bit more leisurely to savor the pleasure.

“I can’t help it.”

“Fuck — I’m, it’s gonna make me cum. You want me to cum for you princess?” Katsuki pulls his cock free and you gulp down air, coughing and sputtering briefly.

“Yeah, yeah. Kat c’mon,” you croak, fingers tingling as you bring them up to fist the blanket below you. Eijirou’s moving at a snail’s pace now, stilling inside you to watch the show.

Katsuki runs with it, hooking his thumb along the teeth of your bottom jaw and prying it open. His cock is shoved to the back of your throat and past the unforgiving ring of muscle there. The sensation makes your throat tickle with the urge to cough.

He stays in place long enough for your pulse to thunder before exhaling shakily and dragging himself out of your mouth. He jerks his cock until he’s cumming with a cry and streaking your chest and belly with his release.

It’s still for a moment once he relaxes. The air is warm from all the movement and the only sounds are of the three of you catching your breath before Eijirou laughs incredulously.

“That was hot.” Eijirou is beaming as he slides his still completely stiff cock from your pussy and you protest half heartedly, the other two snickering. Katsuki locks eyes with you, his cheeks rose petal pink and sweat trails down his temple.

“You good?”

You nod as Eijirou grips your ankles and pulls you bodily onto the bed, your neck tingling when the blood rushes from your head.

“More than good. I do want to switch positions though, the baby is suffocating me like this,” you joke. Eijirou pats your thighs encouragingly and smiles vibrantly.

“Sure thing! You want Kat to hold you baby?”

“Please.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes playfully and shimmies up the bed to the headboard. He pauses near Eijirou, planting a kiss to his lips and turning to settle in his new place. Katsuki tilts his head and smirks coyly at you.

“Move your ass pillow princess.” He bends his knees and digs his heels into the mattress. You ignore Katsuki for the moment and take Eijirou’s offered hand. He helps you rise to your knees and shuffle until you can twist and recline against Katsuki’s chest.

He’s covered in sweat, but he’s so warm and a sense of comfort spreads through your limbs. You glance down at yourself and notice you’re still covered in Katsuki’s cum, nose scrunching in disgust but not bothering to wipe it away yet.

Katsuki runs his hands up and down your upper arms and tenderly wraps them around your shoulders, resting his temple on yours. You brace your hands on his knees and then Eijirou is there taking up your attention.

He inches forward and sits on his calves, snugly fitting between your thighs and he lifts his eyebrows in question. You hum softly and encourage him forward with a tug to his wrist.

He pushes at the delicate skin over your inner thighs to coax you open for him. You do so without hesitation and instantly Eijirou’s steadying himself and slipping back into you with a smooth glide.

“Eijirou,” you moan between your teeth, head tipping backwards onto Katsuki’s shoulder. You clench around him and he whimpers, pitching forward and resting his hands on your belly. Katsuki leers from behind you, muttering like the devil on your shoulder.

“Thought you were big and strong Ei. You can make her little pussy cum can’t you, red riot?”

Eijirou’s brows knit together and he nods vigorously, picking up a steady rhythm that you can feel in your toes. You bite the tip of your tongue and dig your nails into Katsuki’s knees.

“Y — Yeah, I’ll make her feel so good, I’ll make her cum Katsuki.”

Katsuki grins wolfishly.

“Good boy Eijirou.”

Your husband wears a dumbstruck expression, cherry red eyes falling shut and breathy moans mixing with yours as he snaps his hips briskly.

“E-Eijirou! Just like that, please don’t stop, I’m gonna cum!”

He obeys and the volume of your pleas rise and your voice cracks when Eijirou’s movements become the slightest bit harsher. The red head splays his large palms even wider over your belly and uses the angle to his advantage, pressing upwards with each thrust.

Katsuki squeezes your shoulders and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, nosing at your cheek while your climax swells rapidly behind your belly button.

“Doing so well baby, you take him like a fuckin’ champ,” Katsuki says huskily. “Looks like Ei’s gonna fuck another baby into you, isn’t that right?”

Eijirou absently replies with a whiny mhmm, eyes glued to where his cock disappears inside you. You stare at Eijirou’s flushed face, his lids heavy and jaw hanging open in concentration and then the knot in your pelvis is unraveling.

You inhale sharply, thighs tensing and your own mouth opens in a silent scream as your pussy flutters before clenching tightly on the cock splitting you open.

Eijirou groans, placing his forehead on yours and works you through it like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

After a few brain melting seconds your muscles loosen, a low moan creeping its way out of your throat.

“Fuck baby,” Eijirou pants, cock twitching. “Love it when you cum on my cock like that, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Give it to me Ei, I’ve got you baby.”

With that, and a few filthy words from Katsuki, Eijirou is shoving his dick all the way inside you to the root. The curly black hair at his base brushes your clit and he’s cumming.

He gasps your name, hands shifting to white knuckle your shoulders as you frame his face with your palms. His cock kicks inside you a few times before he’s melting onto you, listening to your whispered words of praise as his chest heaves.

You all stay still for a brief moment as the post sex haze falls over you and Eijirou decides then to gingerly slip out of your pussy, shifting to lay down beside you like a starfish instead.

There’s a gentle pressure on your back and you lean forward so Katsuki can slide out from behind you. You take his place, pillows supporting your lower back and feeling icky from all the cum on you and inside you.

“Someone please get me a towel.”

Eijirou laughs but Katsuki just hands you a a discarded T-shirt, nose scrunching up.

“Here.”

You take it gratefully, wiping off the drying cum from your belly and handing it to Eijirou. He helps clean any place you can’t reach before balling it up and tossing it like a basketball into the dirty laundry basket. He misses. Katsuki glares at him and points in that direction, lip curling.

“You’re picking that shit up.”

You snicker and Eijirou grins good-naturedly, teasing the blonde until Katsuki’s teeth are grinding together.

Eventually you’re able to convince Katsuki to cook you both more food. He complains about it vehemently but ultimately pulls shorts on and stomps out of the room and to the kitchen.

You smile with amusement and gaze softly at Eijirou as he tugs on old sweats.

“Ya know he’s gonna blow a hole in the wall if you keep messing with him,” you say, awkwardly climbing off the bed and accepting the shorts and shirt Eijirou places in your hands.

“He just makes it too easy to rile him up.”

You can’t help but agree with that, grinning when Eijirou laces your fingers together and leads you to the kitchen.

The three of you relax together for the rest of the evening, both men taking turns reading to your baby and fawning over your belly.

You’re on your toes with anticipation to see how they behave when she’s here. You’re certain they’ll be amazing fathers.

Then, in a couple years, you’ll let Eijirou get you pregnant. You smile softly to yourself, because you’re one hundred percent sure your back will ache carrying his giant baby.

[kolsmikaelson]

— MIKE SCHMIDT NSFW ALPHABET

— a/n - like everyone else the josh hutcherson renaissance got me too and i’ve been obsessed with him and this was a product of that, hope you enjoy!

— warning(s) - 18+ mdni, somewhat implied afab!reader, not proofread

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

doesn’t know much about aftercare at the beginning of your relationship but a few months in you’ve figured out what works best for the both of you which is usually a warm washcloth some water and a sometimes a nice bath if you’re both up for it but if not cuddles it is

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his arms and hands would probably be his favorite (because he knows how much you like them) and his favorite body part of yours would probably be your eyes

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’s gotten off multiple times just by pleasuring you, it could be him going down on you or fingering you or something else it doesn’t matter just making you feel good makes him feel good

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

has gotten turned on by the way that you take care of him so well, he’s always busy taking care of abby but who's there to take care of him?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he wasn’t a virgin when the two of you got together but he also wasn’t the most experienced. sure he’d fucked around some but he was always too busy

F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)

anything where he can see your face clearly so he can see how good he can make you feel and so that he can kiss you easier

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he doesn’t try to be goofy but in the beginning he was more often than not

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not super groomed but not incredibly messy either, again something you helped him figure out because it was something he didn’t care about before you

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

so sweet and giving and loving. he’s always making sure you’re alright, makes sure you remember the safe word you put in place before anything really starts, checks on you throughout the entire thing no matter what

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

used to jack off because it was all he had the time for until he met you and there still isn't always a lot of time for anything more but you have no issue helping him out

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

mommy kink, spit (giving or receiving but mostly receiving), praise (giving and receiving)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his room or the shower mostly because of the privacy it gives you but he’s brought you to the pizzeria once of twice for some fun

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

genuinely everything about you gets him going it’s so easy to rile him up

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing too dark, no bodily fluids (minus spit and cum)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

loves giving but loves receiving more

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

really depends. sometimes it’s fast and needy and messy other times it’s soft and slow and incredibly intimate

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves taking his time but quickies are all you two have time for more often than not, whether it be in the mornings in bed before you get up for the day or right before a date night that rare time vanessa is able to watch abby for a couple of hours

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes and no. depending on what it is he’s hesitant because he’s nervous of hurting you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

judging by how little he sleeps, probably 2, 3 if you're lucky. if you want more then you’ll have to wait a little while

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he owns a few but he rarely uses any on himself he much prefers using a vibrator on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

doesn’t hate being teased but loves to be the one doing the teasing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

oh he’s so loud, he’s whiny and is always whimpering

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

this wouldn’t happen often but one time after he sees the way you look at her, he asks if you’d want to have a threesome with vanessa. the two of them would be so focused on you and little to nothing would actually happen between them because all their attention is on you but vanessa ended up in your bed a few more times after that

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s a bit above average but makes up for it in girth

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

so high after so long of just using his hand or a toy but it dies down a little bit after a few months

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if it had been a particularly rough day he might fall asleep within the hour but i can see him still taking a while to fall asleep

© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

dividers made by : @.cafekitsune

[black-occamy-arts-and-crafts]

I'm experimenting with different needles for embroidery recently and decided to make it everyone's problem, so here is:

Opinions on sewing needles nobody asked for by Occamy.

From left to right:

Typical nickel-plated sewing needle.

PONY black chenille needle without nickel, size 22

PONY gold plated chenille needle, size 24

DMC gold plated embroidery needle with round tip, size 22

No 1:

I probably inherited that one from my grandma's sewing kits or something. It's one of those needles you can get in any store, good for sewing absolutely anything. It's biggest issue is... I destroyed it with my fingers. It's probably something about the sweat or such, but you can probably see how satine and dark it is in the middle where it has contact with the skin. This causes the needle to go through fabric with more traction and is frankly just irritating. And it's the only reason why I started looking for an alternative, because - and it is true - I went through three needles just embroidering the wizard's tower. If it wasn't for my toxic skin I wouldn't even think of looking for a new needle 🫣

No.2

I got excited both by "no nickel" and how smexy goth it looks like. Unfortunately, it's satine and plainly uncomfortable to hold from the very start, so it was a big NO immediately. Pity, I really like how it looks.

No.3

Used it for about three days and I think it actually gives me some sort of allergies. That or it's a huge coincidence that my fingertips on my dominant right hand got suddenly very dry and scratchy. Other than that, the very top of the needle (above the eye) is surprisingly sharp and uncomfortable to push through the fabric in the long run. So, again, a no from me.

No.4

So far the best of them. It's pleasantly smooth and the top is a bit more rounded than no.3, so it's easier on the fingers. The only downside is the round tip - it is possible to embroider through jeans and canvas (as I do right now), but it's not comfortable. I'm already waiting for next delivery with a few more DMC variants to check on, so expect an update in a couple days.

It's worth noting that bigger eyes of 2, 3 and 4 make it much easier to thread them, but I personally don't bother much with that - I'm actually enjoying the challenge of threading needles xD

That's it, that's me rambling about needles. Nobody asked for this, but, you know.

I hope you relate 🫣

[cuntressgoingdigital]

in honor of the mma! abby x model! reader fic that is rotting in my drafts, i desperately wanna talk about the cute shit yall get into while pretending you're not dating - pt 2 if you care

free palestine! click this link for more info

☆ abby is so aggressively offline, but you are chronically online. in particular, you’re a livestream fiend. it’s a cute way to interact with your fans and it passes time while you’re getting ready for events. you two spend so much time pretending you aren’t together, but on more than one occasion people have screenshotted a figure that looks like her in the background. buff, long blonde hair, kind of tall, she’s hard to miss. you take delight in fucking with people so whenever people ask in your comments you reply with a quick

“no that’s the ghost that haunts my apartment. she’s nice though.”

☆ re: you enjoy fucking with people, once your relationship status was official and you two had settled, you’d post pictures of the two of you out at dinner captioned with some variation of “just a couple of besties”. abby doesn’t get the joke at all, but is happy to participate. 

☆ paparazzi are constantly up your ass, and one day when you’re on what you thought was a secluded beach with abby, they snap a picture of abby kissing you along your neck, your fingers wrapped in her long blonde hair. then, someone leaked the address of the hotel you’d be staying at and you were bombarded by fans at the door. one of them screams at you “was that a picture of you and abby on the beach?”

thinking quickly on your feet, you respond “i haven’t been to the beach in years.” an obvious lie, but it sold the idea that you weren’t going to talk about it. 

☆ celebrity blind items are constantly being released, revealing details of your personal life. you have no idea who on your team is running their mouth, but there were plenty of worse things that could be revealed to the public. 

this A- list model was caught at the club sucking face with this rookie alliterative alphabet fighter. sources are saying they’ve been together for months, but neither are willing to confirm on or offline.

☆ finally, about a year into your relationship you and abby concoct this ridiculous hard launch for your relationship status. abby’s in las vegas for a pretty important main card fight. not a title fight, but she was still new on the scene and was trying to establish her relevance. she gets a devastating first round knockout with the nastiest punch to the jaw that you’ve seen in a minute. 

the crowd is in an uproar when the announcer and her team flood the octagon. they ask the standard “how do you feel?”, “do you have anything you wanna say to the fans?” 

then came the question she was waiting for. “what are you going to do once you get out of the octagon?” 

“i’m gonna go call my girlfriend.” she chuckles between sharp exhales, still riding the adrenaline from the fight. “she’s the first voice i wanna hear after every fight. she couldn’t be here tonight because she’s off in milan, but i know there’s no way she missed this.”

of course you were watching. it was no secret that you were a ufc fan. you’d been caught front row in the stadium a few times. even if abby wasn’t fighting, you tried not to miss the pay per view events. 

an hour later a photo was uploaded on your instagram of you holding your phone to your ear, still in your pajamas with the caption

absolutely loving milan <3 

it took very little time for “WE WERE RIGHT!” to start trending on twitter.

i WILL be writing more of them don't worry. idc if only 3 people like this, more is coming :P

[thelittlewarrior98]

Hello!

So I know that this is an absolute long shot, but I wanted to share this here anyway in the hopes that someone in the Phandom could maybe help me coz I literally just don't know what else to do at this point 🥺🙏

My name is Holly-Jayne but most people call me Daisy, I'm 26 years old and I've been a part of the Phandom for over a decade now like D+P have pretty much always been my most favourite YouTubers and humans in the whole entire universe 💜

I've unfortunately never been able to see them live during any of their tours though as I've just sadly never been able to afford it!

It's always been one of my biggest ever dreams to finally go to one of their shows and maybe even meet them so I can finally thank them personally for everything they've ever done for me 💜

But then late last year I suddenly got very very sick to the point where I became bed bound and wheelchair bound and could no longer eat or drink anything without throwing up and I ended up losing way too much weight to the point where I genuinely looked like a living corpse and I was soooo so tired and in so much pain all the time and I even started struggling to breathe, but then after going through all of this for about 4 months as well as countless doctor appointments, miss-diagnosis including being told it's just anxiety and is all just in my head and also have to stay in hospital got about a week or so, I was very sadly diagnosed with Stage 4 (Terminal) Serous Carcinoma Ovarian Cancer that has spread to multiple areas of my body and I have now also completely lost my fertility because of it 😔💔

I also apparently had over 2 litres worth of fluid on my lungs which is why I was struggling to breathe and could barely even walk up the stairs without my legs just completely giving way.

So I've had to endure 6 very difficult and grueling rounds of Chemo which I actually finished around 2 months ago and I'm now on a targeted treatment that I have to have every 3 weeks for about a year and I also have to take blood thinners every single day for up to 2 years due to a rather big blood clot that they also found on my lung during my 1st round of Chemo!

I also almost died again during my 2md round of Chemo as I had a very bad reaction to it and stopped breathing for a couple of minutes......

We've had quite a few scares which I guess is just my new normal now, but i now as back to normal as I can be with Cancer and I'm very slowly but surely getting my life back together and just trying to live my life as much as I can for as long as I can as even though I'm terminal, I'd like to believe that I'll still be around for many many years to come and D+P have especially helped with his as watching their videos through all of the dark and scary times have always just completely cheered me up and put a smile on my face and they still give me the motivation and determination to fight and stay as strong and healthy as I possibly can be 💜

So yeah, it's probably been the most hardest and most painful year of my life, plus my grandad very sadly and suddenly passed away last October just before all of this happened and then we also very sadly lost my aunt in May of this year after a 16 year long battle with Cancer and my nan was also unfortunately diagnosed with Leukemia around the same time as my own diagnosis, so 2024 just hasn't been kind to us at all!

Soooo so much grief, pain and trauma that we're all still trying to deal with 😔💔

So yeah, when D+P announced the TIT I was absolutely BEYOND happy and excited like yessssss another chance for me to finally go and see them and potentionally meet them if I can get an M&G ticket and finally just something for me to look forward to after this very crappy year!!

But alas, time and luck once again just weren't on our sides as when the tickets were released for both dates we just so happened to be at the hospital for appointments and treatment and they all sold out before I even had a chance to try and buy them 😭💔

So I tried to use one of my wishes to see and meet them instead, but we've unfortunately just found out that the company no longer have any money and can't fulfill people's wishes anymore!!

But the thing is, we submitted the wish absolutely months ago like back when the tickets had just sold out and we never heard back from them at all until now when our macmillan nurse got in touch with them a few days ago, so they never even bothered to tell us which is really annoying and inconvenient because we could have maybe sorted something else out by now, but now we've only got a couple of weeks left and we're just at a complete loss as to what to do as this could literally be my last ever chance!!

Really starting to lose hope over ever getting to see or meet them now and I'm absolutely devastated as we just don't know when or if they'll ever go on tour again and even if they do, who knows if I'll still be here by then or how my health will be!!

I mean I'm always staying as optimistic and hopeful as possible, but we still just never really know......

So yeah, I just wanted to share this in the hopes that someone in the Phandom could maybe help in any way at all??

Idk how or what could be done or anything, but I thought it was worth a shot anyway as I've pretty much got nothing to lose at this point!

I was hoping for Manchester on the 29th btw as that's the only date that I'm able to do.

Thankyou soooo so much for reading all of this if you've actually made it this far, I appreciate it more than you'll ever know!

I'm in this Phandom business for life haha 🤣💜 @danielhowell @amazingphil @danandphilupdates @danandphilhq @danandphilnews @danandphilsaltsquad

[dovveri]

the right reasons

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 5 ▸ part 7

synopsis: final stretch of the season. home visits.

warnings: implied sex

w/c: 3.4k

a/n: apologies for late update i have been laid on my literal deathbed with sickness and the brain juices have basically run out for this series so this is a short update to get them flowing again and hopefully i can wrap it up soon 🙏 ty for the support as always!

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

the next few days are hectic with house visits. because of the contract you had both signed, and the fact that the entire nation has been invested with sana's journey to find love, it was a given that sana wouldn't be able to just drop out of show. that didn't mean she didn't try, in fact you had to pull her back from calling all the lawyers in the district to break her contract, insisting that it was fine to see the show through and that you were going to be there for her no matter what. it took a few more assurances, and a couple rounds of sex, kisses, and promised cuddles before she reluctantly agreed to continue filming the upcoming home visits.

jiwon's family was first. you had both met her younger siblings and her several nieces and nephews that were very young. they were all very sweet and it was adorable watching jiwon entertain the young ones.

fortunately, the classic 'father figure that gives the intruder the i'll kill you if you hurt her speech' wasn't present because it seemed jiwon served as that person for her younger siblings. though her younger sister was a little skeptical at first, she easily warmed up when she saw how great sana was with her kids.

sana and jiwon wrapped up the night with a private talk, one which sana didn't share with you, but you were learning to trust her, even though it still looked like she was dating 4 people and soon to choose the love of her life, you had to trust that it was going to be you after it all ended.

jacky's family was next except since most of his family was back in australia, you actually just had a nice dinner at jacky's apartment with eunji who jacky had nominated as his family stand-in. you had apologised profusely to eunji for not being a better friend and not being there for her on the night she was eliminated but she laughed at you and rolled her eyes, saying it was completely fine. she was also friendly with sana who was a little anxious seeing her again so soon after practically rejecting her on national television, but eunji was extremely cool, and they got along even better as friends.

if you ignored the cameras set up everywhere and the producers running in and out, it was a pretty normal night between 4 friends. you had enjoyed dinner made by both jacky and eunji, drunk soju, sung bad karaoke on jacky's home-installed karaoke television set, and played nintendo switch games all night.

in typical bachelor fashion, jacky and sana also had their own private talk on the balcony towards the end of the night, although it was a little silly watching the producers and camera crew figure out how to film it because it was a small apartment, meant only for jacky to live in, so the balcony was basically right outside the living room where you and eunji had stayed, trying not to look outside and give them their privacy while they were having their mandated talk.

then, the crew had surprised everyone with a flight to japan for momo's home visit. momo had greeted all of you at the airport in a traditional kimono and one ready for sana as well. sana had teared up seeing her and being in her country of birth again. the next few hours were a whirlwind as momo and her sister hana took you all for a tour of their home city, stopping by all the essential places to eat, take pictures at, and had even brought you to momo's old dance studio where they had readied a performance just for sana. the producers were very happy with the amount of content they were getting as you explored the city.

you could tell sana absolutely loved this date. the amount of planning momo put into it showed how much she wanted to impress sana, and how much she understood her homesickness and her love for her birth country. it was hard to be jealous of momo getting most of sana's attention during the date when sana was on the verge of tears at every new sight, sound, and feeling. and momo was a sweetheart anyway, always being inclusive of everyone, making sure she was there if anyone needed translation or help with anything, you adored her as a friend, grateful that she was able to provide this experience for sana during the stressful filming season it's been.

you ended the day at momo's house. you met her parents and although you were a little intimidated by her dad's buff physique, he turned out to be a big teddy bear who supported his daughter more than anything. both her parents were glad to be able to converse with sana in their native language, and easily warmed up to her because of the fact that she was japanese and communication was made a lot easier. you spent a lot of the dinner just watching them, only catching hints of their conversation from your select knowledge about the japanese language, but momo noticed eventually and tried to translate as much as she could which you appreciated very much.

it was only a little awkward when momo and sana went for their end of the night chat and you had to sit with momo's family attempting to make small talk with your broken japanese. it turned out okay when momo's mom smiled sweetly and brought out dessert, turning on the television and flicking to an episode of the bachelorette with japanese subtitles. it turned out to be the episode that heechul had tried to rizz up momo and sana using his almost offensive japanese, and you were all able to laugh as you tried to explain using gestures and your best attempt at charades exactly what type of man heechul was behind the scenes.

although japan and korea weren't far, the crew had let you had some time off in japan and granted a day off after filming the dinner with momo's family so that sana could go home and see her family as well. so that night you had taken the bullet train from kyoto to osaka and sana had held your hand, leaning into you as she talked through her childhood stories softly. it felt like it was just the two of you against the rest of the world.

the next day sana was positively glowing. she practically skipped around you in circles while she took you around her home town. it was clear she was loved and missed in the neighbourhood. sweet old ladies and old friends were stopping her everywhere, asking how she was, if she was going to move back to japan soon, everyone wanted a piece of her.

you had dinner with sana's parents who you'd met already when they flew to korea for sana's graduation. although there was still the language barrier, it was easily overcome when sana's mom started showing you albums of sana's baby pictures and pictures of her throughout her childhood.

sana had squealed adorably, trying to cover up her baby pictures and chasing you around the house while you yelled out comments while rapidly flipping through the pictures before she could catch you.

you ended the night collapsed on sana's bed in her childhood room, cuddled into each other. you never really decorated your room when you were younger, too repressed and focused on your studies to ever find the time or worth in doing so. but seeing sana's walls plastered with old japanese anime posters, idols, her ceiling dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars, and pictures of her friends and family everywhere, you can't help but yearn for the childhood you could've had if you had tore away from the books for a little bit.

you're both laid supine on the bed, looking at the imitation night sky sana has in her room, little do you know sana's gaze is focused on you instead.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"thank you for being here."

"are you kidding? i wouldn't be anywhere else in the world right now. plus we just got a free trip to japan, life couldn't be any better. i should be thanking you."

sana giggles and fully turns her body, facing you and draping an arm over your stomach. you have your arm under her neck, supporting it while she nuzzles into you.

when she starts playing with the bottom of your shirt, sneaky fingers sliding up and under it, you squeeze out a warning, "sana... your parents are literally next door."

you can feel her smirk against your neck as she starts leaving light kisses along it, and you're helpless, lifting your head slightly to give her better access.

she hums against you, "you can be quiet can't you?"

you make a muffled sound of protest, "your childhood idols and plushies are watching us right now."

you can't see it but sana rolls her eyes, continuing her way up your neck, "i lived out my teen years in here. you think they haven't seen me get off?"

you squirm at the thought, the image of sana under her sheets, trying to keep quiet while she touched herself to whatever fantasies she had at the time.

"you're thinking about it aren't you? how i looked- coming home after school- do you have a school uniform kink y/n? that's slightly concerning y'know?" she leaves a hot trail of dangerous kisses up your throat with each phrase, intent on driving you absolutely crazy.

"n-no!"

"mm okay." then her lips are on yours and really, you should know better than to alert her parents of your sexual proclivities but when sana's licking into you like that you can't blame yourself for not being able to think straight.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

the final date is of course, with jihyo back in korea.

you were nervous walking in through the front door, the sight of jihyo's parents and her sisters, all familiar faces from when sana and jihyo used to host parties and get-togethers for the various holidays of the year.

fortunately, jihyo's parents and rest of her family were sweet enough to welcome the both of you with open arms. as if the breakup never happened. you gripped sana's hand tightly knowing she was probably going through a hellstorm of emotions right now, being in an environment that reminded her of the brokenness jihyo left her with.

what you did not expect was jihyo's ex-boyfriend to also be at the dining table, all smiles and big buff arms.

sana's hand tightened around yours at the sight of him, her eyes quickly flashing to jihyo with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. jihyo avoids her gaze, sitting down next to her ex-boyfriend instead.

you hear sana take a deep breath, composing herself before the cameras and smiling, you can see straight through it though, keeping her hand in yours when you take your seats at the table, glaring daggers at both jihyo and her ex.

it's clear the tension around the table is present.

jihyo's mom clears her throat, attempting to strike up a conversation, "so sana... it's been a while since we've seen you. what have you been up to?"

sana smiles politely, "well this entire show has been a pretty big thing lately. although i will say i was very surprised to see jihyo there on opening night. not as surprised as i am to see your ex-boyfriend here though." sana directs towards jihyo, a little harshly, stabbing her food with her fork.

"sungbin. it's nice to meet you." sungbin offers a polite nod, but keeps mostly to himself.

"sungbin is my best friend. i thought if y/n could go on this whole experience with you then it wouldn't be a problem if i brought my best friend along." her tone is cutting, like she knows something you don't. "besides... my family's already met you and given you their approval. i thought the whole point of home visits was to get to know people close to me and see if they like you?"

sana shuffles a little in her seat, her grip on you tightens. "right."

the table falls silent again, only the sounds of cutlery scrapping against plates able to be heard.

it's more than awkward and you can see the producers talking worriedly with each other, coming up with any ways to make this more entertaining.

it's jihyo's dad that clears his throat this time, "so sana... do you think you've found your 'one' on this show? i know jihyo is a contestant on your show but know we still care about you and want the best for you, even if that's not our daughter." he smiles kindly, while his wife pecks him on the cheek for his sweet words.

"dad!" jihyo startles.

"what? just because you decided to break up with sana doesn't mean we wanted to let go of her."

"yeah sungbin isn't nearly as good as you at super mario bros even with all those muscles." jihyo's youngest sister chimes in with a laugh, lightening the mood easily as you slip into old conversations and reminiscing better times. you can see the producers visibly relaxing as conversation starts flowing, but jihyo is still tense, unable to look at anyone except sungbin in the eye.

eventually the night leads you into board games with the family while sana takes jihyo outside to talk. you give her a reassuring look before she heads outside, sungbin gives you a strange glance but you don't bother paying him any attention. regardless of his presence, he was still a stranger to you.

you're celebrating your third pass by the go slot in monopoly when the argument outside starts to get louder and louder, able to be heard from inside the house.

"why would you bring him here!?"

"what do you mean why? don't tell me you haven't been sneaking around with y/n this entire time! you haven't even given this show a chance have you?! you haven't given us a chance!"

"jihyo i told you last time that we are over! we have been over for over a year now!"

"i apologised for that okay! i just thought- i didn't think you'd be the type of person to go on this show for the wrong reasons sana."

"what- what wrong reasons?!"

"you're not here to find love! you've had it! even when we were dating i always thought it was kinda weird how close you and y/n were!"

"what- what are you talking about jihyo?!"

"you know damn well what i'm talking about."

"i don't."

"the fact that you've been in love with y/n since way before we were dating sana."

"wh- what?!"

"yeah. i figured if you're not taking this experience seriously than i give you a taste of your own medicine. that's why i invited sungbin tonight. everyone talks about people only coming on these reality shows for their 15 minutes of fame, i didn't peg you to be one of them sana."

"i am taking this seriously! how can you tell me anything about what i've been doing when you've had tunnel vision this entire time? you've only been focused on trying to get me back after i already told you that we're over!"

"if you are taking this seriously then tell me you don't have feelings for y/n. tell me you're going to end up with one of the final four, it doesn't have to be me, but don't you think you owe it to the others who have been trying so hard to impress you this entire time to give it your all?"

"i- that's not for you to decide jihyo."

"you can't say it can you?"

there's silence for a bit, the muffled sound of sniffling. you can't help but feel like you're intruding, and the fact that everything was being filmed and recorded right now made it even worse.

you quietly slip out of board games night and head towards the producers.

"you're going to cut that out right?"

"sorry?"

"their conversation. you'll cut it out?"

"excuse me, who do you think you are?"

"sana's best friend. who cares about her and her national reputation as korea's most eligible bachelorette."

the producer sighs exasperatedly, "we'll see what we do in the final edits. no promises." he rolls his eyes and pushes past you to go talk to the camera directors.

you hurridely go outside to see sana sitting on the balcony, her head in her hands, jihyo looking out across the balcony.

"sana?"

they both turn to you, jihyo rolls her eyes predictably, scoffing and moving past you back inside. you take the opportunity to step outside and close the door behind you.

"sana sweetheart..."

sana's eyes are watery, barely concealed emotions rampant across her face.

"cameras." she gestures weakly around the balcony where cameras and microphones are still set up.

"let's go home then."

she takes a breath, nodding slightly and taking your outstretched hand, you squeeze it reassuringly, leading her out of the house and offering your goodbyes to jihyo's family.

rather than take the driver back to the bachelorette pad, you insist on driving and giving the driver the rest of the night off. that way, you can at least ensure the both of you aren't under the watchful eye of producers looking to make a buck off sana's misfortune for entertainment.

it also helps that you can take a detour and head to a late night ice-cream parlour you and sana used to go to all the time as college students.

you grin when you see sana's expression immediately brighten when you pull up into familiar streets.

"where are we going y/n?"

"somewhere as sweet as you."

"ice-cream?"

"mhm."

she squeals happily, hugging you and you try your best to return it with a laugh while you keep your eyes on the road.

you park and walk into the ice-cream parlour hand in hand.

sana beams when she walks in, excited to taste test all the flavours despite always getting the same thing every time. you let her be childish again to forget all the things jihyo's said to her.

once she's tasted everything you order your usual white crumble pistachio and strawberry yoghurt for sana.

as always, she has to try some of yours and you must try some of hers because she's tried yours so it's only fair. except this time she leans in to kiss you, the flavours mixing on your tongues, a sweet kiss with no cameras or pressure, a moment just for the two of you.

after you're both finished with your cones, she leans into you, placing her head on your shoulder.

"about what jihyo said..."

"it's okay sana. you don't have to explain anything. i shouldn't have been eavesdropping anyway."

she snorts, "well i mean- it's going to be broadcast nationally anyway."

"maybe not. producers said they'll take it into consideration."

"mm. i haven't- i don't-"

you let her think, placing an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, letting her come up with the words in her own time.

"i love you. i told you that already. i don't know for how long- maybe jihyo's right and maybe i've always loved you. that doesn't mean that- it doesn't meant that i haven't put my all into this right?"

"of course not sweetie. i don't know if it was the same for you but i didn't even realise i had romantic feelings for you until during this. in the beginning, i was completely focused on finding the person that would be right for you. and i think you were too. it just so happened that halfway through, we started- well i realised that you were it for me." you turn to face her gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek.

she rubs her nose against yours softly with a smile, "you're it for me too. i'll figure out how to get through the rest of the season, but i think jihyo's right in that i have to start being honest with the rest of the contestants. none of them deserve to be led on like this."

"i'm sorry i kinda fucked up this whole show for you."

she pecks you chastely, "silly... we wouldn't be here together or have realised our feelings for each other if this didn't happen right? we just have to be selfish for a little more."

you sigh against her, bringing her into a proper kiss, lips trying to convey just how much you felt for her.

[anathemaspeaks]

dandelion wishes

character(s): shoto todoroki synopsis: always the bridesmaid, never the bride - isn't that how the saying goes? my name is momo yaoyorozu, and in my case, it's true. word count: 1.3k warning(s): none a/n: not my best work, but here you go anon :) likes, follows, and reblogs are appreciated <3 this is all from momo's point of view.

it happened at my birthday party, a day after i turned 16.

kaminari managed to somehow smuggle booze into the house. still teenagers and drunk off the excitement more than the liquor, someone suggested we play 7 minutes in heaven. everyone cheered in agreement - except bakugou, of course. he opted to stay sober and make sure we don't have too much fun.

after a few uneventful rounds, it was finally my turn to spin the bottle. i wished it would land on shoto. this was my chance to tell him how i feel about him. maybe he'd say something back? well, a girl can dream...right?

my heart hammered in my chest as i gripped the bottle, spinning it on the polished wooden floor. every spin felt like an eternity until it finally landed with a decisive click. i traced the path of the neck, breath catching in my throat as i saw it pointed directly at todoroki. this was it. this was my chance.

we awkwardly shuffled towards the closet, the door creaking shut behind us, the dim light casting shadows on the wall. before i could calm my nerves and speak, todoroki blurted

"listen, about the spin…" his voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost hesitant.

"yeah?" i forced a nonchalant reply, inhaling to try and calm my nerves. he ran a hand through his dual-colored hair, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"actually, there's someone i... well, someone i kind of like." a sheepish grin tugged at the corner of his lips. it felt like the wind got knocked out of my lungs. my eyes darted around the cramped space, landing on a crumpled magazine lying forgotten on the floor. this was happening. finally.

"oh, cool," i choked out, my voice barely above a whisper, "who is it?" i asked nervously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

a beat of silence.

"y/n" he mumbled, a shy smile on his lips. the name rang in my ears, shattering my dreams of a chance with shoto. i forced a smile, "oh."

maybe this was for the best.

maybe y/n would make him happy in a way i couldn't, maybe she was what he had wanted all along.

maybe y/n wouldn't have walked out of this closet with a broken heart hidden behind a painted grin.

of course it was her. it made perfect sense. her smile could light up a whole room, kindness radiating from her like sunshine. she was effortlessly beautiful. she was everything i couldn't be. everything i wanted to be. pretty, smart, funny, strong and kind.

how could i ever compete with that? a pang of jealousy, sharp and unwanted, twisted in my gut. i should be happy for them.

and yet the feeling wouldn't leave.

my gaze flickered up to shoto's shy smile, and the way his eyes seemed to light up just at the mere mention of her. a hollow ache settled in my chest, envy so deep it felt like a barbed wire wrapped around my heart.

shoto's turn.

i held my breath, the unsettling feeling in my gut worsening each second. when the bottle stopped spinning, it landed on y/n.

of course it did.

as if tonight could've gotten any worse.

they emerged from the closet looking like a tornado had hit them. clothes askew, hair a mess, and faces flushed with a kind of unspoken ecstasy that left little to guess.

the next day, they walked into class hand-in-hand. it was official.

today marks 2 years since that day.

over this period, they became the textbook definition of the perfect couple. they were disgustingly cute. sneaky, affectionate, glances in the middle of lectures, whispered jokes that erupted in shared laughter, their hands seemingly glued together.

shoto 'resting bitch face' todoroki, weak, a complete loverboy for y/n. he'd wrap his arm casually around her waist, brush stray hairs from her face with a lingering touch, and steal kisses during training breaks. it was a side of him no one had ever seen - a shoto who wore his heart on his sleeve. for her.

here i was, stuck watching their picture-perfect love story unfold, a constant reminder of the confession that will forever remain trapped on my tongue.

we were sprawled across mina's living room floor, empty pizza boxes scattered around like confetti, and a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on a mountain of rom-com CDs. the topic, just like a normal beginning to a girls' night, was boys.

"boys are the worst!" mina declared, prompting a chorus of agreement from everyone.

"mine just left his gym socks under the bed again. seriously, how hard is it to use a laundry basket?" uraraka chimed in.

just then, y/n came in from the kitchen with a bag of marshmallows and sat down next to us. well, she wouldn't be participating in the complaining.

"look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," i teased, nudging her playfully.

"so, how are things going with the ice king, anyways?" asked jirou.

she blushed a bit. "oh, the usual. he's amazing, and he's surprisingly..." she trailed off, a sly smile on her face.

"surprisingly...?" mina prompted.

"let's just say his quirk isn't the only thing that's hot and cold."

the room erupted in laughter and whoops for her. i forced a laugh, feeling an all too familiar pang in my stomach.

the conversation continued, everyone chiming in with their recent stories about boys. including y/n. every detail felt like a knife to my heart. 'that should've been me' i thought. i pushed it away. i wouldn't let my jealousy get the best of me.

they all seemed so happy, while i was stuck on the sidelines, yearning to feel their joy. we all fell asleep in that room while watching movies and gossiping, a smile on everyone's tired faces. i still couldn't help but feel a little bitter. but i couldn't let it get the best of me.

now we all have finally graduated. we decided to still meet up every saturday for dinner, and this week, it was at todoroki's. the familiar buzz of anticipation and excitement filled the house as we all talked about our first week after graduating.

then, shoto and y/n walked in hand-in-hand.

"hi everyone!" greeted y/n, smile so bright it was contagious.

"sit wherever you're comfortable, dinner will be ready soon" announced shoto.

"but before that, there's something we have to tell you." she was practically shaking in eagerness.

todoroki cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "we, uh, well…" he fumbled for words, a rare sight for the usually composed half-and-half hero. she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"we're engaged!" she blurted out, a wide grin on her face.

the air crackled with shock. wide eyes, dropped jaws, and a silence followed the announcement.

"wait, married?!" kaminari finally found his voice, his eyes wide with surprise. "but you guys are only eighteen!"

todoroki chuckled, a sound rarely heard before y/n. "we know," he admitted, a hint of shyness lingering in his voice. "but we knew what we wanted, and well, here we are," he added, a hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

and then, as if a dam had broken, the group erupted. mina squealed, launching herself at y/n in a bone-crushing hug. kirishima gave todoroki a hearty back slap, nearly knocking him over. uraraka, tears welling in her eyes, showered them both with congratulations.

"dumb brats, you're gonna regret this!" yelled bakugou. but i saw him turn away and wipe away a falling tear. both y/n and shoto engulfed him in a hug. he threatened to burn their arms off if they did it again, but the smile on his face was hard to ignore.

congratulations continued, hugs going all around. the surprise announcement had cast a whole new light on their evening. it was a celebration not just of friendship and graduation, but of a love story that had blossomed within the very walls of U.A., a love story we all saw unfold.

married. at eighteen. the words echoed in the hollow space where my confession had died. cheers rained down on them, a cruel confetti shower on my silent tears. my wish for him was as futile as willing a dandelion's wispy white petals not to fly away with the wind.

they were a love story written in stolen glances and secret touches, a masterpiece i could only watch unfold from the sidelines - a happy ever after that couldn't be mine.

to the anon who requested this, i know you wanted it to be more angsty so i tried to make it as vengeful as i could, i hope you like it! <3 (i accidentally deleted the ask I'M SO SORRY)

please send in requests everyone 🫶