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coconutdays · 6 months

Text

love line

s. on a very drunk night, satoru exposes your crush on the famous mma fighter, and friend of yours, toji zenin

w.c. 12.3k

w. fem! reader, mma!toji! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: this might not be proofread well but I hope yall enjoy. im very in love with this man!

"I can't believe I lost that stock today!"

you're out having drinks with your friends at a fancy bar in shibuya when satoru gets shitfaced drunk. the matter is nothing new. he's the lightweight of the group and doesn't care about getting home most of the time because he knows either you or suguru will take charge and take him home.

you're taking frequent sips of your whiskey as you watch one of the country's most successful business owners mope over a small, so very minuscule, fraction of his wealth fly by. suguru is sitting next to you at the booth and exchanges a look of 'idiot' in reference to the white haired man's sad life story. sukuna is in front of you and no look needs to be exchanged because he simply acts on his thoughts and gives satoru a smack on the back of his head.

and toji's at the center of the booth, smooshed between shoko and satoru. he's looking at satoru in mild amusement, a small smirk on his face at the fool's stupidity as he too drinks from a glass of whiskey. he's wearing a low scooped black long sleeve that probably costs a thousand dollars and rightfully so, it makes him look so handsome. the price nothing compared to the pay he makes as a world champion mma fighter.

you've known him for the better part of a year, a bit more actually. satoru met him near the end of your college career on a business whim with his father and has since made him a member of your friend group. you're not as close as you wish you could be, the immense nerves you have in fear of him even getting an inkling that you're attracted to him have always stopped you from initiating a more than necessary amount of text conversations or random phone calls. satoru could do that, you couldn't. god, you've even seen suguru have more dms with the raven haired fighter than you. even in the group chat all of you share, you can't bring yourself to connect with him aside from teaming up to tease satoru or sukuna.

the last thing you ever conversed with him on your phone was a conversation you, surprisingly, started. he had told you about this one taco place and said you would love it based on your shared interest of food. when you told him you'd try it, he had told you, 'better send me a picture when you're there.' and you did. he had sent a laughing emoji when he asked if you liked the food and you said, 'I'd step on lime juice covered shards of glass to eat this again.'

that was the last thing you'd see in your messages between each other.

he was close to four years older than all of you, except for sukuna, they were only a year apart. he had this endearing scar across his lip that curved so achingly whenever he smiled or grinned. he was built gorgeously, his back a sight to behold whenever you got to see him fight. and his eyes, fuck, the bright mix between grey and green always had you throwing a fit in your bed and wishing you could have him.

nevertheless, you go back to paying attention to satoru.

"you profit from so many other stocks satoru. that one stock is just a random occurrence."

"but the ladies won't want to go out with a guy who loses even one stock!" he looks up from where he's sprawled across the table, pouting at you.

"the fact that you're a millionaire at the age of 23 already gets enough ladies." you roll your eyes, unable to help the twitch of your lips at the sight of a little bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth

"it's not enough." he mutters

this time, you and sukuna share a deadpan face and you flick satoru's forehead, leaning only slightly across the table.

"yeah you're right. satoru gojo is such a loser for losing a stock, none of the girls are gonna want him now."

out of the corner of your eye, you see toji huff a little laugh at your antics, it makes your heart skip a beat a little that he finds you, even if its mostly satoru, funny.

"don't mock me!" satoru's cheeks are red as he scowls at you the best he can.

"she's not mocking." sukuna snorts, taking a swig of his beer.

"yea she is!" satoru points at you, "I never mock you about toji!"

everybody in the group stills except for satoru, who looks like he's still revved up about the subject.

much like cassie's reaction in euphoria when rue asked her how long she had been fucking nate, all you could do was nervously laugh.

"what–what are you talking about?"

you can feel your entire body starting to shake in fear. it was like you were in elementary again and some mean friend of yours was going to expose your crush on the popular boy of your grade. the fear was something you never thought you'd experience again.

"don't act stupidddd." satoru drags on, as if toji fucking zenin wasn't right next to him, "you're always talking about how bad you want toji and that ' I wish I could talk to him' bullcrap!" he says the last part in imitation of you with a high pitched voice.

suguru is staring at satoru in terror. sukuna is looking at you, in peril for you. shoko looks like she mentally checked out so she couldn't feel your embarrassment.

...and toji is staring at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like he doesn't know what to say.

your phone is in your pocket. check. your purse is on your lap. check. satoru can pay for your tab when he comes to his senses. check.

all you can do is abruptly get up and start to dash away, ignoring the yell for you from suguru. you don't look back, pure peril and adrenaline taking over your body as you make it out of the bar as quickly as possible, thanking whatever god that you chose to wear the easiest pair of heels to walk today.

the metro, the metro, the metro.

you look around for a quick second, only taking a second to remember what way the metro was before you rush in its direction. you feel a buzz coming from your pocket when you do, and you can only figure its one of your friends, trying to get you to come back.

you ignore it and rush down the escalator to the metro, making a glance behind you and noting that nobody was behind you. thank god. however, it doesn't stop your pace and your heels click and clack you all the way to a seat on the train to your part of town.

fuck.

your entire body feels like its on fire and melting.

toji knows you like him.

fuck.

suguru 5 missed calls

shoko girl where did you go?

sukuna 1 missed call dude, since when do you run track

you have to stop yourself from bashing your head on the pole in front of you. shakily, you press on suguru's contact to call him. you would tell him you were going to home so he wouldn't need to worry. what's the worst that could happen by now anyway.

"y/n? hello?"

"I'm on the train home." you breathe

"that fast?" he doesn't exclaim, he's not the type to show his surprise so blatantly like his counterpart but you can hear his concern at the fact.

"yeah." you murmur, stomach churning now that the adrenaline's worn off.

suguru sighs, "satoru is scared you're going to kill him now."

and you can hear his wails in the background. 'no she's going to come after me!' 'I need to up my security!' 'is that her on the phone?! y/n pleasseee forgive me!'

your nose scrunches in annoyance and you blurt, "I'm not going to kill you stupid idiot!"

"she says she's not going to kill you." suguru says to satoru and you can hear what you presuppose is suguru pushing the drunk fiend off of him before he continues talking to you, "about toji–"

you feel your stomach drop at the mention of the name, he's still there with them, fully aware of your feelings for him

"ah! don't wanna hear it!"

the beginning of a call to your name from suguru went ignored as you immediately pulled your phone back and pressed the little red button.

the sky had literally fallen for you and now you had to deal with the aftermath—which you weren’t doing right this second, due to what you just did to your friends, but you’d do it eventually. being an adult made sure you had to face it sometime soon. its just that toji zenin learning from satoru gojo that you had a massive crush on him had not ever been something you expected. hell you never expected him to find out in any sort of way, ever. god, he was never supposed to know.

well, your fun was over, you had to move on now. if you wanted your friend group to stay normal and go back to the way it was, the looming existence of your feelings for the world renowned fighter had to die. you could tough it through that, you could come back and say ‘i thought it over and don’t have feelings for you anymore toji so don’t worry about acting weird with me. we’re casual friends like we’ve always been.’

a particular rattle of the train had you planting your feet on the floor purposefully and waiting for it to fully stop before you got up. you were five minutes from your apartment now, the walk you started now would pass by in a flash and you’d get to wallow in your misery soon.

ordering takeout sounded nice and so did watching your favorite show, especially after a warm shower, it had been quite chilly tonight.

you had no room to really think about your predisposition in regards to toji zenin the next day, having to attend work then go to a work party afterwards at some high end restaurant/bar located at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking tokyo. at work, you had to host various meetings and delegate new responsibilities you planned out the day before to your peers. it was all very hectic since it was all a completely new project. you had barely looked at your phone and even if you did, there wouldn’t be much to fret over, your friends had busy lives too. and right after, you had to head straight home and get ready for the party later that evening.

you were sporting a tight black dress with light red flowers embellished across it later that night while you drank champagne and conversed with your coworkers. it had been a decent night so far and you had photos taken of you along with your peers, they’d probably be posted on the company website or social media.

there had been some interesting work tea to listen in on too, your rival company was involved in it too and you were smushed against your coworkers in a red leather lined booth with dim lighting to listen in on all of it. it was more than worthy of your time by the end of it, you deemed. you would have to tell shoko and sukuna about it whenever you got the chance next time. yes, sukuna liked tea, he was an ass who loved hearing about ass things happening.

the craving for a new glass of champagne sent you to the bar the moment the story ended, so you sat up on one of the chairs lining it while you waited for the bartender to get to you. you could see your ceo already getting shit-faced from where you were and it was funny, she always did that and always managed to get embarrassed the next time everyone saw her in the office.

“are you part of that office party?”

a large and handsome figure suddenly appeared before you, blocking the view of your boss. he was wearing a rather expensive looking black suit with a silky blue dress shirt under, all of which couldn’t hide the obvious hard and sturdy muscles under them due to the complimentary tailoring. when you took in his face, you had to hold back the urge to widen your eyes. he was excessively good looking, with sharp and devilish features sketched across his face, intertwining hand in hand with his semi-long brown wavy hair pushed back and away from his face, save for a singular pretty strand falling near his brow and down his cheek. and that scar near his eye, it seemed so familiar…

you had to blink yourself back into reality when you realized you were taking a bit too long to answer his question.

“yes,” you finally responded, trying your best to remain neutral and politely smile at him

he leaned against the open spot of the bar table between your seat and the empty one behind him, one hand in his pocket as he smiled down at you, “you’re very beautiful.”

your spit got caught in your throat at the blatant admission, this time unable to hide the way your head reeled back a little and started sporting a rising heat on your cheeks in slight shock, “oh–i–thank you.”

his smile grew wider at your flustered state and he reached a hand out for you to shake, “aizen sosuke.”

so at to remain polite, you shook his hand and repeated your name back to him in return for his, but in reality your head was falling in on itself

him.

fuck.

that’s aizen sosuke, the other world renowned mma fighter that you were very aware of due to his competitive nature and rivalry with toji. as far as you were aware, toji absolutely hated him, and you were sure aizen did too. anytime the rivalry came up into the conversation you saw toji’s eyes darken and his posture straighten in seething hate for the man. if satoru felt like getting on his nerves, as he did with everyone, he always knew to mention the tall brunette to get a visceral reaction out of him. it was bad. wait–

they have a fight tomorrow.

oh god, this was all types of fucked up. you've been pining after toji this whole year and he just found out yesterday and now you're talking to his rival who's very obviously flirting with you.

...but he was aizen sosuke, aside from that, and he just called you beautiful.

“is there any particular celebration happening?” he tilted his head to the side a little in curiosity

“no, not this time,” you breathed, trying to shake the nerves off, “my boss just likes to treat us frequently and…well herself.”

“is that the only occasion where you get treated as of late?”

suave

and you can’t help the small knowing smile starting to creep up your lips, “as of late, yes, although she mostly does it in drinks.”

“dinner isn’t often?” he leans a little closer, his lips quirking up a little

“no,” you shake your head, aware of the way your eyes are smiling back at him too.

“allow me to treat you then,” he says confidently, watching as the bartender slides you your champagne

“In exchange for…?” you quirk a brow up at him as you take a sip

“what are you willing to give?” he bites back with a canine smile, still looming over you and infringing himself a little into your space even.

“nothing.” you snark back smoothly, pressing a finger into the middle expanse of his chest. he’s really sturdy, you note before continuing, “dinner with me should be a prize enough.”

he laughs at your response handsomely, reeling away from your space in accordance with the finger of yours pushing him away, “i’ll pay for everything. hell, send me the receipt for your outfit if you feel like it. i’m sure some sort of gratitude will overcome you.”

“ravenous,” you tut your glass in his direction, “i’ll politely decline then mr sosuke.”

“you haven’t even allowed yourself to grace over the thought of spending a night in my sheets,” he’s leaned down to speak so sensually next to your ear, “if your line of work is a stress, i can make you forget all about it.”

“i’ve allowed myself to grace it,” you speak back lowly, matching his game, “and i can only see you adding onto my stress by the end of it.”

“you’re oddly confident about that,” he smiles deviously, turning his head so that you’re face to face with him, “i aim to please, if any.”

“to please?” you question in haughty disbelief, squinting your eyes playfully at him

“to please,” he’s still smiling, eyes fleeting to your lips for a second, “i could relay the details if you’d like.”

“that’s unecessary,” you laugh at his boldness, turning your head away from his, “but it’s not something i’m interested in. im only looking for stability right now.”

“how unfortunate for the both of us tonight then,” he retreats back into his space before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone, then splaying it out in his hand for you to take, “at least leave me your number. i can be capable of stability for the right woman.”

you feel your phone buzzing erratically that night, when you’ve washed away the night’s events and lay comfortably in your bed with a glass of water cradled to you. upon first looking at your messages, you were greeted by a paparazzi picture of you, courtesy screenshot from gojo, and aizen speaking at the bar. it was one of you smiling and looking up and him while he was leaning down, face inches away from yours as he returned your toothy grin.

satoru img_736 ?????? is that aizen sosuke?! dude are you fucking him rn

sukuna take one of his trophy belts when you come back home

shoko lol he looks hot in blue

suguru satoru, aren’t you supposed to be on your flight back from dubai right now?

satoru first class has excellent cell service ha and y/n hasn’t answered aizen def has his hands busy rn

shoko it’s only been five minutes since you sent that picture plus she’s at her work party, i think. she probably just met him there

satoru who cares bud looks like he’s ready to pounce

sukuna heard he likes bdsm shit

satoru send pics of his paddle lol y/n

suguru both of you are despicable

shoko let us know if he has good stamina

suguru the three of you

all those messages had been sent ten minutes ago and you gaped at your friends’ mischief

y/n I AM NOT WARMING AIZEN SOSUKE’S BED RN!

satoru liar, he’s in your mouth rn isn’t he

y/n literally shut up toru i’m in my bed. no aizen near

sukuna sure you are you looked real horned up smiling at him in the pics

y/n LMAO he was a little funny ok, i couldn’t help laughing

shoko oh he was funny hm

suguru actually worried a little at that statement wdym he was a little funny

y/n im going to crucify all of you he tried getting me to warm his bed and was very smooth abt it, but i said no gave him my number though :p since he asked for it

satoru was that before or after he told you you have great boobs img_737 could not have been more obvious about it

the stupid texts from your friend had you laughing out loud and setting down your glass of water on your bedside table before you pressed on the microphone button and sent a loud, giggly voice message for emphasis of your previous point.

“I didn’t fuck aizen! and he didn’t need to tell me i have great boobs, i saw him staring at them the entire time.”

sukuna you are not living this down if we see hickeys on you tomorrow

satoru what he said ^^

and there came the realization,

toji and aizen’s fight was tomorrow

and all of you always showed up to toji’s fights ever since you befriended him

hell, fuck, you hadn’t even remembered he was in this group chat too. fuck fuck fuck. was this good? was this bad? he hadn’t said anything and he never really took too long to answer sometimes. no, this was the night before a fight, he’s probably already knocked out right now considering the late hour. but still, what of when he woke up to the messages tomorrow? would this help ease the knowledge of your being into him? oh she’s already flirting with some guy she’s not into me as much as a i thought so i dont feel as awkward around her anymore. but what if he thought you were doing this purposefully to get a reaction out of him and that you were so obsessed with him, you did it for that sole reason. you didn’t even want to come to the fight anymore. could you get out of it somehow? no, stupid satoru knows you’re free tomorrow and that would add more drama to your ‘up and dash’ incident from the bar yesterday night.

you turned around and flailed on your bed, screaming into your pillow in the process.

regrettably, you show up to toji’s fight the following afternoon, trying your best to suppress the notion that aside from having to be near toji later, that aizen was going to see you too, and that whole ordeal would be something different entirely for you to deal with.

you dressed pretty well, you always did, but you added a little more effort than the usual when picking your outfit for the day. it was ufc fight night worthy and showed a generous amount of skin, the pictures you would upload later that night to instagram would be amazing.

sukuna snickered when he saw you, pulling you in for a quick friendly hug as he said, “wanted zenin to see that you really didn’t fuck sosuke?”

you gaped at him and held back a smile as you smacked him with your purse, “i will hurt you ‘kuna.”

“try me, idiot,” he bites back with a snarky smile before sinking into one of the cage-side seats toji always managed to get for you guys. you had already said hi to the rest of your friends before getting to him and all felt normal until that dumbass made his dumb comment about your crush on toji. satoru, had of course, without a doubt, inspected you for hickeys and love bites immediately upon your arrival and had given you a suspicious look, as if to say, ‘you got away with it this time.’ he was always ridiculous like that, trying to cling onto random drama, even if he gaslit himself, all for his own fun.

“i really did not expect to meet him last night at the bar,” you sighed after you sat down, taking in the bustling crowds of people gathering in the arena with him

“fuckin hilarous,” he all but barks evilly in amusement at your predicament before taking a swig of his beer, “paparazzi is gonna have a field day thinking you’re aizen’s girl now that you’re here.”

“WAIT!”

you immediately sit upright at the realization and turn your body towards sukuna, jaw hung open and eyes wide in panic.

“holy shit. what the fuck.” you start having an existensial crisis and sukuna, the great friend he is starts snickering at your dilemma, finding humor in your panicked expression

“go sit near his side of the arena,” he jeers, “there’s some open seats.”

you run your hands down your face, stressed, “i thought the worst i had to deal with would be aizen seeing me here.”

“still is,” sukuna is still smirking at you evilly, “everything is shit about your day today.”

and then the lights dim and sporadic blue lights start sparkling across the arena

“get ready to say hi to your boyfriends,” sukuna teases with a canine grin before leaning over to see who would do their walkout first.

and it’s toji first.

he’s so beautiful and rugged, wearing skin tight black shorts that highlight every muscle underneath them and his eyes are glowing so pretty against the fluroscents, even if he has a murderous look on them right now. his staff are behind him as he walks through the arena, and looking at them almost distracts you from the way toji holds you in a cutthroat stare the moment he spots you, and only you.

you can hear satoru’s sly voice saying from near you, “nice.”

too scared to look away from toji, you can only speak to your friends without turning to address them, “why is toji giving me a death stare?”

“cause you fucked aizen,” satoru’s teasing lilt jeers

“yeah,” shoko agrees

“i did not fuck aizen,” you bite through gritted teeth as toji walks into the fighting cage, eyes still on you.

“tell that to him,” sukuna snickers

“don’t think about it too much,” suguru tries to comfort

then the lights starts blaring furiously again and aizen’s presence is announced throughout the entire arena. and you were really right about that suit being unable to hide those muscles, because without any clothing over them…they were enormous and mouth-watering.

all of you watch as he, accompanied by his staff too, walks to the cage, handsome smirk planted on his face.

“would you look at that,” satoru starts, “he doesn’t have your scratch marks all over his back.”

“ha ha,” you sarcastically mutter back when aizen enters the cage and he situates himself in his side, taking in his surroundings, like those sitting in the cage side seats.

like you.

you know he’s spotted you because of the way his eyebrows raise in surprise and the wolfish smile that starts forming on his face the moment you make eye contact. and you know toji’s noticed too because of the way he turns to you too and keeps looking between you and the fighter in front of him.

satoru whistles while sukuna howls, both leaning down to elbow you from either side much to your annoyance

“scratch the paparazzi thinking youre here for aizen being the worst thing capable of happening today,” satoru sighs haughtily, “if toji loses, you’re in for it.”

you spin your head to him, panicked, “what?! is he gonna stop being my friend?!”

satoru shrugs, nonchalant, “don’t know, just keep watching sweetheart.”

so you did and it was unnerving.

when the fight started and toji and aizen started squaring up against each other, you could see aizen start speaking to him. his mouth was moving a little and a smile crept up on it when he jeered his chin in your direction, all of which you saw toji answer back with what looked like single word short answers and a sneer on his face.

“wonder what they’re talking about,” suguru questioned softly

“i have a small idea,” satoru said under his breath before toji threw the first punch and the chaos ensued.

the fight consisted of a lot of hisses and ows coming from everyone, including you, in the arena. toji and aizen were really putting in the work to beat the crap out of each other. ten minutes had passed and toji was already bleeding from his mouth and aizen had blood falling down his nose. both of their bodies were beat too, red splotches blossoming all over them as a reaction to the various kicks and punches both of them sent to each other.

however it looked like it was reaching its cusp when aizen got toji in a headlock and muttered something while looking at you.

which must have given toji enough energy to quickly peel himself off and knock his face in a couple of times. and when aizen stood up straight after it to counter, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and smiled so devilshly at you before wandering into toji’s space again.

“hot,” shoko commented while gnawing on a toothpick

and that continued, the smiles at you from him, with his questionably hot bleeding mouth while he sported a beating from toji or gave it to him. but it started dying down when toji actually started knocking him in so close to his own victory. and there wasn’t much aizen could do until toji pinned him down and forced him into submission,

all while aizen stared at you and even had the gall to wink while his loss was announced

satoru whistled again, “the balls on this guy. surprised you aren’t soaked right now.”

people were starting to filter out when the winner and loser were officially announced and were beginning to get escorted back to their locker rooms.

“come on,” sukuna muttered as he drank the last of his beer and got up with the rest of you to go to toji’s room.

when all of you are rushed into toji’s locker room, you somehow wound up standing next to him, where he’s seated on a bench and wiping the blood off his face with a hand towel.

“congrats,” you mumble, along with the others

“what’d he say to you during the fight,” leered satoru, both of his hands in his pockets and his shades over his eyes again now that he doesn’t have to watch the fight.

“none of your business,” muttered toji after wiping his face again, “where’s my fucking water?”

“here sir, here,” one of his goonies said while weaving through the people in the room and nervously handing him a water bottle

“thanks,” he huffs with a small glare before opening the bottle and starting to chug from it

“who do you fight after this,” sukuna asks

toji shrugs and looks towards his manager, who then starts to explain the next sequence of events after this win. and it lasts for thirty minutes before everyone falls quiet and toji gets up abruptly

“alright, get out. ‘m gonna change,” he all but demands for everyone to leave ominously

and you listen to his words, letting the half closest to the door start to filter out before you make to move your feet and suddenly toji’s holding onto your arm.

“where do you think you’re going?” he huffs when the last person leaves the room and the door clicks shut

you feel like a deer caught in headlights and feel yourself start to grow nervous, “outside…to let you change?”

“you gonna fuck him?”

and you gaslight yourself into pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “who?”

he deadpans at you with bored and almost annoyed green eyes and you have to look away from him when you murmur, “no…i don’t know. listen, me having a thing for you isn’t that serious and if i entertain aizen it isn’t so you can finally notice me or something, i just–”

“when the fuck did i say i never noticed you before?”

your eyes widen and you didn’t know what to say

“what? you think it’s so easy for me to try and talk to your dumbass too?” he pulls you closer by the arm he’s already holding, scowl etched across his face

“what,” is the only thing you can get out in your nerves

toji glares at you, “when silver spoon said you wish you could talk to me, did it ever cross your smartass that i don’t know how to talk to you either?”

“no,” you let out meekly, struggling to make eye contact with him and feeling your heart rate go up by a million beats per minute

“so,” toji tugs on your arm again, “are you gonna fuck him?”

you look away to a locker near when you mumble, “do you not want me to?”

“no, i fucking don’t.”

“then i won’t.”

“great,” he lets go of you and now centers himself to stand in front of you, quirking a brow up when he asks, “you gonna let me take you out on a date?”

you have to fight the urge to fiddle with your hands as you look back up at him, “when?”

“tonight.”

“shouldn’t you rest after a fight!?” your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, pupils darting to the blood staining his lips

“not if i don’t feel like it,” he shrugs, before gaining a threatening aura, “or do you wanna bite the bullet and get lunch right now? you won’t have time to get a pretty dress on.”

panicked at his suggestion, you mindlessly put your hands against his chest and plead, “no! tonight is fine, tonight is fine!”

“thought so,” he huffs back at you, corners of his mouth quirking up a little

and put on a pretty dress you did, a red sultry one that teetered between innocence and sex. it had toji staring you down as you took the unfathombly large bouquet of flowers he brought for you from his arms and set it on your kitchen island.

“where are we going?” you turned to look at him while he drove you to whatever destination he had in mind for tonight, playing with the metal clasp of your handbag

toji had been leaned against the driver side door of his car, with one hand holding onto his chin while the other steered, he seemed oddly pensive.

“allen’s,” he gruffly swallowed before straightening up and putting both of his hands on the steering wheel. you weren’t surprised by the mention of the michelin star restaurant, he could afford it and had the status for it anyways

so you couldn’t help but speak, “are you nervous?”

his entire body tensed visibly and his eyes slightly widened, glancing at you for a half second before looking back at the road and relaxing, “what do you think smartass?”

a smile crept its way onto your face, “well i am too.”

“you gonna run away again?” he side eyed you with a slight gleam of mischief

your face flushed and your mouth gaped, turning to look at the road too now instead of at him, crossing your arms as you huffed, “what else was i supposed to do? not like you had anything to say either, had your mouth open like a fish when i got exposed…”

“least i didn’t run,” he huffed back

“well you didnt try to contact me after,” you sasssed, sensing his growing irritation

“you’re a real pain in my ass,” he glared at you, “you know that right?”

“and you’re not acting like the guy who just won a fight earlier today.”

toji had just parked outside the restaurant and splayed his hands across the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing from what you could tell.

“i didn’t know what to say, okay negative nancy?” he finally turned to you, green eyes striking under the night sky and neon lights from the restaurant name shining through, “and then when i was going to call your pretty ass the next day, i saw the pictures of fuck face raw dogging you at the bar.”

“he didn’t fuck me,” you whined in complaint as you splayed yourself across the center console of his car and batted your scorned eyes at him, “how many times do i have to tell you guys?”

“well you were real close to,” he smirked at you before something serious fell across his features and his eyes darted to your handbag, “matter a fact, block his number right now.”

your head perked up at the demand and you blinked at him, “i dont have his number.”

toji squinted his eyes at you, “you said you gave him your number in the group chat.”

“yeah but he hasn’t called me or anything, so i never got his.”

the ravenette rolled his eyes, taking his keys out of the ignition and pointing at you with them, “when he does, you better fucking block him.”

“i will,” you nod obediently, watching as he starts to get out of the car

you move to take off your seat belt and he leans back into the vehicle with a warning look, “i’ll unbuckle it, don’t move.”

and he does, closing the door of his side before walking over to you and opening the door to kneel in and take off your seat belt, then giving you a helping hand to get out.

“thank you,” you murmur appreciatively as you watch your step before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. and if it affected him, you wouldn’t know, he said nothing and held onto your arm softly while he guided the both of you to the restaurant entrance.

“you look hot by the way,” he breathed out before opening the door and entering with you, giving you no chance to respond when the hostess immediately greeted the both of you and began to lead you to a table.

it was intimate, the table. it was small and dainty, relatively little space would be between you and the gruff fighter. and both of your seats were at the same corner of the table, making the distance shorter than it would have been sitting across from each other.

toji instinctively pulled out your chair for you and muttered out a sound of acknowledgement when you thanked him as he sat down.

“you gonna drink?” he quirked a brow at you, gesturing towards the menu of alcohol planted right in front of the both of you

“a little red wine sounds nice,” you try to say politely, “you?”

“nah,” he responds while raising a hand for a waiter to come by, “i need to drive you home. you like sweet or bitter wine?”

“sweet.”

and so he orders a wine for you to drink right off the bat, saying a thank you as the waiter walks away to get the bottle.

“does your mouth hurt?”

toji hums mindlessly, as if his head had been somewhere else before he perks up again and says, “come again sweetheart?”

the pet name had you a little fluststered in speaking again, feeling your body grow hot as you gestured to his mouth meekly, “your mouth, it was bleeding after the fight, does it still hurt?”

the corners of his mouth start to rise as he encroaches into your space, eyes lusty, “nothing a little kiss won’t make better.”

your breath hitches and you feel like pushing him away to hide how easily he’s affected you, “you’re shameless.”

toji is inches away from your face now, and he tilts his head in fake hurt, “i took those punches from the lowlife trying to steal my girl away, doesn’t that mean i deserve a reward?”

you try to keep your face serious as you deadpan, willing your need to laugh away as best you can, “your girl?”

“my girl,” toji grins sleazily

you’re about to bite back when the waiter comes back with the bottle of wine toji ordered for you and the menus for tonight’s dinner. toji takes the bottle from the waiter and insists on serving you your glass himself while you begin to look at the menu. choosing a meal was difficult with all the delicious options available, every description making your mouth water, you wanted everything. when you complained to toji about not knowing what to get because of all the options, he brushed you off while still reading his menu.

“get whatever you want, we can come again and again until you try everything.”

well that’s one way to make you horny

so you settled for these sauteed calamari rings with a savory sounding sauce while toji got a steak under the pretense that ‘i need to stock up on protein after fights.’

while the both of you eat, good conversation comes up and the previous tense awkwardness of the both of you goes away.

“i haven’t dated anyone since my sophomore year of college,” you say while taking a sip of wine to wash down a bite of calamari

toji quirks up a brow in disbelief at your statement while he takes a sip of his water, a scowl almost, as if he’s offended for you, “what about that emo lookin kid—“

you tilt your head in confusion, not being able to pinpoint who he’s talking about, “emo?”

toji rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers at himself, “that kid, can’t even remember his name, with the blue hair, you know–“

“grimmjow?!” you gape, eyebrows knit

“yea that fucker,” toji nods before he takes a bite of his steak

“I never even got to have a thing with grimmjow,” you deadpan, swiveling the glass of wine in your hand, “we kissed like once and then he told me he wasn’t ready for anything the next day.”

“silver spoon made it seem like you guys fucked.”

you sigh in agonizing pain that your white haired freak best friend loves to say you fuck frequently, “satoru says that because he feels my dry spell more than me. horny ass. he wishes i could get laid.”

“what,” toji snickers, “haven’t fucked in a year or something?”

this was going to be a pain

“three years,” you clarify, staring at him with bored eyes because you know you’re going to get a reaction because of this, “with my ex was the last time. and i lost it to him.”

toji eyebrows immediately raise and he looks at you like you’re insane, “you’re lying.”

“don’t you think id rather say i just got laid two weeks ago or something?” you quizically ask him

“well yeah,” he scoffs, “but i'd rather you not at that point.”

you knowingly squint your eyes at him, jabbing a fork of calamari, “why’s that?”

and you laugh when toji drops his napkin back onto his lap very done with you and blankly stares you down.

“how long have you liked me anyway,” you continue, hoping and praying on the small chance that toji pined for you as much you did for him so that you didn’t feel as pathetic

he stays quiet for a bit, as if he didn’t hear you, and you feel embarrassed that you’re about to repeat himself until he looks up from his meal and says, “ever since business boy posted a picture of you before i got the chance to meet all of you.”

hoping and praying did you well

you had to physically stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl by holding your hands in fists under the table, “and..why did you never make a move?”

“i thought you had a crush on sukuna for a good four months,” he shrugged and if you were seeing right, there was a pink hue dusting the tips of his ears, “after i figured out you didn’t, i pussied out because i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

then his eyes fixated on you, “what about you huh?”

you felt yourself growing small in your seat, beginning to play with the ends of your dress, “well, when we met and you told lent me your jacket because my cardigan was thin…”

“both of us have been idiots this entire year huh,” toji joked, laughing at himself and you

“yeah,” you meekly agreed, taking a woeful gulp of wine until you came to a realization, “wait, is that why sukuna thought you didn’t like him for the first few months of knowing him?!”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fighter grunted, looking to the side as he drank another gulp of water

by the time your date with toji ended you were as happy as could be, having felt fulfilled that yes you were on a date with your long time crush, but that you were also very compatible and had amazing chemistry. you kissed briefly, outside the restaurant when your heel got caught on a pebble and he held you upright so as to stop you from falling. you pulled him in for it to thank him and he held onto your waist so fucking well, the fact that his hand was almost the same size as your back was dizzying.

he had asked for another date the following afternoon for brunch with him and you couldn’t deny, wanting to spend more time with him. you were telling satoru this on the phone before he said…

“so when are you guys getting it on?”

if you could, you’d throw something at him through the phone right now.

“you are such a pervert!”

“i am not,” satoru defends, “okay maybe a little, ha. but in all honesty when are you two going to rip off the bandaid? it’s not like you’re strangers and you have to do that awkward period of oh im respecting your space crap. oh my god, does he know you’ve never gotten head?”

your cheeks flush hot, “no.”

“this is hilarious,” satoru jeers, “try to last longer than two seconds when he eats it.”

you sprawl across your bed and almost scream, “stop, because im going to be really embarrassed if that happens!”

“i think it’d be a miracle if it didn’t happen,” you can hear the millionaire open another candy wrapper before stuffing the sweet into his mouth, “so when are you sealing the deal?”

“when even is the appropriate time?” you gaze at your ceiling, feeling hot all over your body and embarrassed that you’re talking to your friend about having sex with one of your other friends

“personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.”

“you think?”

“he looks at your boobs when you aren’t looking.”

“what?! why didnt you tell me this before?” you sit upright in your bed

“him wanting to fuck you is obvious, i just didn’t know if he liked you, so i kept it to myself.”

“unfair,” you huff, falling back into your comforter, staring at the ceiling in silence until you felt your phone beginning to vibrate

pending call - toji

“toru, ill catch up with you some other time, toji’s calling me,” you usher out and immediately accept the incoming call before the snow haired devil can say something cheesy.

“hi,” you breathe out

“hey,” toji’s gruff voice responds through the small speaker, “how are you feelin?”

“about the food or you?” you tease

“both.”

“wish i could’ve eaten some of that peach cobbler the couple next to us ordered,” you fluff up a pillow behind you, wondering if you should go forward with a thought before you think fuck it, and say, “wish i could’ve kissed you more.”

“i can get you both angel.”

“what are you doing?”

“just put some patches on my back, ‘s sore,” theres a moment of silence before he quips, “was thinking about you.”

“me too,” you sigh, hoping he can’t hear how dreamy you unintentionally sounded

“what about me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice

and you indulge him a little, just to fuck with him, “how big your hands are.”

“you like ‘em?”

“mhm, they looked nice with the bruises on them too.”

“ ‘s that why you kept holding onto them?”

“maybe,” you watch as you kick your feet up in the air, finding something to exert your energy

“yours are soft,” he breathes, “i like it.”

“you know what else is soft?”

“what?” you can hear his energy shift

“my hair, i use really good conditioner and product.”

“fuckin tease.”

you turned around in your bed to hold your head in one of your hands, “what ever do you mean by that toji?”

“you always pull shit like this and you know it. you made me think i forgot your birthday last week.”

you laugh at his offense, noting that you did get a good scare out of him last week when you pretended he said your birthday wrong, “okay that was a one time thing though.”

“and then you told me the chinese restaurant i sent you to had shitty lomein.”

he had recommened the restaurant to you last month based on the premise that the lomein was good as hell and that you’d like it. you didn’t think he’d fall for it, but you told him it was crap just to fuck with him and he couldn’t function for a minute.

“okay okay maybe i do pull shit like that every once in a while,” you digress

“every once in a while…” the scowl on toji’s face is quite loud when he responds

“every once in a while,” you punctuate with a sing songy voice

after your brunch date with toji the following day, he took you vase shopping because when he showed up at your place to pick you up he had another very large bouquet of flowers in his hands for you. and unfortunately, you couldn’t even fit all the flowers from the night before into the three vases you had.

he took you to a high end home furniture store that you were pretty sure millionaires only shopped in, your theory being proven when a rug you passed by was the exact same one satoru kept in his apartment and shamelessly replaced when shoko got red wine on it.

“woah,” you say when you get to the vase section, “this is way different than the ones at ikea.”

“see anything you like?” toji moves to stand next to you while you take in the vast number of beautiful vases in front of you

and at first you think you have nothing to say, unable to pick from all the beauties in splayed out for you, until your eyes spot a pretty almost seashell shaped vase, with defining ridges, colored gold, it was beautiful and you wouldn’t mind a number of those decorating your apartment.

“i like this one,” you murmur as you walk up to it, noticing the slight iridescent shimmers on it

you can see toji raise his hand and make some sort of mannerism towards someone, you assume a worker, out of the corner of your eye after you say that.

which led to the predicament of accompanying toji into your apartment numerous times as he carried the multiple boxes carrying the same vase into your apartment. you weren’t allowed to, he had demanded. he even eyed you threatningly when you made to pick up your own box to take with him.

by the time he had brought in the last box you were very antsy, trying to find something to do in return for him like offer a water or food, or what fucking ever, just anything in exchange for his buying you multiple luxury vases and carrying them into your apartment.

“i did that shit because i like you and i think you deserve it,” toji huffed, eyeing you pointedly while he accepted the glass of water you had offered him, “don’t get all weird.”

“okay…” you nervously looked to the side as you traced invisible lines across your kitchen island, “at least sit for a while before we have to unpack them and put the flowers in them. please?”

the tall and buff fighter let your small and nimble hands drag him to your couch by the arm and then guide him to sit on it, with you following after.

“I was watching grey’s anatomy before you came over,” you start, looking at him earnestly, “do you wanna watch some with me?”

toji set the glass of water on your coffee table then splayed his arm behind you on the couch and nodded, “go for it.”

“okay,” you smiled lightly then, much to his obvious surprise, crawled over him and reached for the remote next to him, tucked into the corner of the couch just a little, then went back to your original spot next to him.

your eyes were focused on opening netflix when he spoke, “is that the uh–the show with the doctors and crap?”

you pressed play when you set the remote off to the side and leaned more into his space, “yeah! it’s a little cheesy, but it’s fun to watch, at least before a certain season. after that it just goes downhill.”

“alright,” the ravenette said, leaning closer to your space too

“glow in the dark,” toji exhales a light laugh at the mention of glow in the dark condoms

“ever tried those?” you look up at him from where you’re tucked underneath his arm, hand splayed across his chest and abdomen area

“never knew they were a thing,” he smirks, “you?”

“i don’t even know what head’s like,” you roll your eyes, “as if i would’ve gotten to the exploration stage of fucking.”

you can see toji visibly stiffen at your comment

“what?”

“there’s no way in hell that fucker didn’t eat you out,” he’s sat up straighter now, eyes pining you under his gaze

“well there is a way in hell,” you move your hands as if to gesture ‘it is what it is’, “he didn’t like the taste.”

“what, he got a wonder dick or something?” he looked annoyed, “that do the job?”

“i did not ever orgasm, so no,” you laugh, finding it funny how pissed he’s getting on your part, “why are you so pissy for me zenin?”

he gives you one glance before looking forward at the tv to avoid your gaze, sighing a little, “it’s stupid, is all.”

“me not getting head?” you’re still staring at him even though he’s watching george and alex bicker on the tv

“yeah,” he nods

and satoru’s words play through your mind again, ‘personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.’

but you shake the thought away before you start something stupid and reassume your cuddling position next to toji, watching as it gets revealed that the neurosurgeon lover has a wife already. the previous piece of information making toji uncharacteristically scrunch his nose and look as if he wants to spit at the screen.

“what,” he looks at you, eyes waiting in earnest for the next episode, “that the end? start the next one.”

“are you sure,” you giggle at his sudden interest in the soap opera.

toji sinks into his spot on the couch, bringing you closer to him with a hand on the skin just above your knee, “yeah, play it.”

while you take the remote to start the new season, you laugh, then place it down before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on the fighter’s lips, “you’re cute.”

he gives you a bored look, obvious in expressing that cute is not something he wants to be described as, but you can also feel the grip he has on you twitch for a second.

“what?” you smile, “can i not call you cute?”

“can’t you find something better?” he says, trying not to roll his eyes

“not when you’re acting cute,” you sit up a little and grab his face to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, which scrunches up cutely at the action. you can see toji try to chase your lips just the slightest when he sees your mouth fall away from his nose and wander so close to his mouth. you use the observation to tease him, making it look as if the next destination was his lips until you go further down and land a peck on his chin.

toji’s had enough of it, it seems, when he swoops a hand under your jaw and near your neck and guides you to his own mouth. he's soft about it, simply trying to taste your lips and memorize the feeling of your lips on his, until–you dont know who–one of you takes a sensual turn and makes it much more intense than need be. although unable to find the culprit of before, you can say that toji’s first in sliding his tongue into your mouth moments after. he does it slowly, flicking the muscle to tease at your own before retreating, as if waiting for yours to give the same response and you do, shyly dipping yours in to lick across his tongue. almost like he lured you in, he intertwines his muscle with yours upon the interaction and you can’t help the small high pitched moan that escapes you.

on some sort of instinct, toji uses the hand on your knee to hook it under his grasp and guide you to his lap, planting you thigh to thigh on top of him. your hands, having forgotten what to do in these situations, awkwardly place themselves on his chest, shakily feeling the hardness of his chest underneath them. he grabs onto one of them, caressing the skin of it, while his other hand finds comfort in your waist.

a second moan makes it way out of your throat and toji’s hips buckle up subconsciously, which makes you gasp into his searing kisses. the action has you noting that he’s hard underneath you and the exact size of him is a curiosity to you, the thought making you reach a hand down to hold him.

he’s big, an ‘it’s going to hurt’ kind of big.

“don’t…” he grunts out, letting go of the hand holding onto his chest and reaching down to take off the one holding his length, “touch unless you’re ready.”

“i’m ready,” you shift your hips atop of him and being forced to look at him when he pulls away from the kiss, lips pink and splotched and his pupils blown out.

“I can wait,” he says, trying to control his breathing, the expanse of his chest rising and falling so controlled even though the look in his eyes says otherwise, “don’t worry about me, if that’s it.”

“well I can’t,” you tug at one of the buttons of his shirt for emphasis, then guide one of his hands underneath your skin and near your inner thighs, “feel me.”

slowly and hesitantly, toji moves his hand onto your panties and runs a finger across the excessively damp wet spot of them.

“fuckin tease,” he groans at the touch, sliding his finger across again and again, earning mewl after mewl from you

“do you want me?” you shyly pant as you hold onto his free arm, fighting the need to put your head in his shoulders

“yeah, i fucking want you,” toji growls as he pushes you onto his chest by a hand on your back

he maintains eye contact with you when his hand pushes your panties out of the way and immediately slips a finger into your heat. the pressure of his gaze turns feral when your eyebrows knit and a loud moan leaves your lips.

for some reason, trying to excuse the loud reactions he’s about to get from you, you heave, worried, “i—i haven’t done this in a long time and–oh mmmm–i won’t be able to help myself.”

“think i care?” he huffs, concentrating on you when he slips a second finger inside and curls them both curiously to find your spot, which he does, smirking a little when your hold on him grows tighter and your hips wiggle at the pleasure, “scream all you want princess.”

he starts jutting in his fingers quickly in and out of you after the words leave his mouth, and the stretch is so good, so unlike your small hands that haven’t been able to do crap for years, that you start squealing and hug toji in by the back of his neck and shoulders.

“there you go, there you go baby,” he coos, smiling a little at the cute sounds you’re making and relishing in the squelch of your pussy while his fingers abuse it.

“wait–wait–” you heave, beginning to push him away, even though the advance is useless due to his iron grip and try to explain an embarrassing admission so as to warn him, “i feel like im gonna–”

he gives you no chance to finish your sentence when he punches in a third finger and makes you nearly scream.

“what?” he breathes, lusty eyes boring into your own, “you gonna cum?”

“no–”you shake your head, trying your best to still relay your message even though you can feel your orgasm taking its final steps near, “well yeah–but–but–”

your stomach starts dropping and toji picks up his pace so brashly that you release almost instantaneously all over him. your legs twitch uncontrollably and you bury your face into his neck while squealing through the feeling.

“shit.” he utters, still fingering you through it, “fuck, fuck.”

“i squirt,” you almost cry, embarrassed and shaken up by your orgasm, unable to look at him, “i’m sorry, i tried to tell–”

“shut up,” toji spanks your pussy and doesn’t care when you yelp as he throws you with your back on the couch and starts to tug your panties off, “you’re gonna do it again.”

submitting to him, you shimmy out of your dress nervously while he hastily undoes the buttons of his dress shirt. the burly fighter drags you, so your legs dangle off the couch before he kneels down and places his hands underneath your thighs to spread you out for him

“look at me when i eat you,” toji pinches your clit to get your full attention on his face, “don’t close your eyes or look at the ceiling, none of that shit. got that?”

you nod your head impishly, hesitantly putting a hand on your stomach, itching to hold onto his face or his hair.

his eyes drift to your sex and you can see a hint of irritation paint itself across his features when he mutters under his breath, “didn’t like the taste my ass.”

within milliseconds, toji saves no mercy and starts to eat you out like a man starved. his mouth is hot and wet, and you don’t know where the mess is coming from, his lips or yours. the man spits onto your pussy and so sloppily makes out with your sticky heat, interchanging between that and sucking so harsly against your clit.

your legs are twitching so wildly and the only thing keeping you from scrambling away is toji’s hands that are now wrapped around your thighs to keep you pressed against him.

you’re basically screaming now, in utter bliss from the heavenly feeling, unable to speak.

his eyes keep looking up to bore into yours all while he aggressively kisses your pussy. it has your breath picking up rapidly and goosebumps rising all across your skin. his tongue laps across your lips so foreign yet so deliciously that you can’t help the increasing reach of your orgasm.

“I'm close!” you squeal after a particular suck of your clit, thinking that he needs to heed to the warning because you’re so sure you’re about to squirt on his face

all toji does in response is growl and let go of one of your thighs to start fingering you with two digits rapidly.

he stares you down while you struggle to keep the eye contact, your whole body beginning to twitch uncontrollably and your vision starting to see white until the invisible cord snaps and you feel an immense relief wash over you–and him.

the juices seeping from you seem to spur him on and he doesn’t move in any sort of way to avoid them, instead choosing to lap at them and drink it in all while making growls and groans of satisfaction.

he’s still going at it when you come to, and you start shuffling away–well try to–from him, yelping, “it’s sensitive toji!”

he seemingly listens to you after a few seconds, running his tongue flat against your folds before he lifts his face from you. the entire lower half of his face is covered in your juices and his spit and he looks outright animalistic as he looks back at you.

he gets up and stalks towards you until he’s on top of your body and dives down to kiss you aggressively, making you taste yourself in the process. it’s so erotic, it has your pussy fluttering all over again.

“fuck,” he groans deeply into your mouth, “you don’t have any condoms right doll?”

you shake your head a little, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and offer something else, “i’m on the pill…so i don’t really mind…”

you can feel his breath hitch and you’re quick to add, “but! if you’re not comfortable without one–”

“you fine with me blowing a load in you?” he mutters and seizes the chance to nip at your bottom lip

“i wanna feel it,” you admit, glad he’s still kissing you so he doesn’t see the flustered look on your face.

“dirty fucking angel,” he says heavily against your mouth before he gets up to undo his belt buckle and push both his pants and briefs in one motion.

he doesn’t even really spring up free like you expected him to. his dick is so hung that well, it hangs. the size looks bigger than what you predicted already when you touched it earlier. your ex, the only person you’ve had sex with, was the stark opposite of this, easy to fiddle with and well below average. the difference of having toji’s thick length right in front of you now had you clenching around nothing.

“you like it?” toji smirks at you while he goes up to you again and moves you so that you’re completely laying across the couch before he climbs up on top of you between your legs.

“mhm,” you nod, looking down and hoping his tip can at least graze your folds while it bobs down near your inner thigh and that’s when you get an idea.

“can we–” you almost hesitate, “can we do a mating press?”

“was planning on it,” he says gruffly when he leans forward and pins your legs next to your head.

you giggle at the words and he smiles down at you, a moment of innocence before the both of you look down and he’s using one hand to guide his tip into you.

the pop of his tip inside of you is overwhelming. you feel like you’re going to push him out in a single clench with how girthy he is. and you think the previous two, very wet, orgasms are what lets him slide into you, even though it stings.

“shit’s fucking tight,” toji groans, both hands back to your legs while he and you watch him pull out nearly all the way and sink back in.

“ ‘s so big,” you huff, feeling like he’s outright in your stomach, “feel so full.”

“bet you do,” he sounds so serious when he says it, still entranced when he starts to pound in and out of you at an average pace that, although it’s not fast, still has you starting to feel tears brim near your waterline

the man above you starts groaning in sync with your moans and whines, shuddering a little everytime you clench and suck him in

“beautiful,” toji groans under his breath and you can feel his pace start to pick up a bit, “getting fucked on a huge cock, little princess slut. tiny fucking hole’s begging for help.”

the mean words mixed with his praise has you feeling epically embarrassed yet turned on all at the same time and all you can do is moan in response

“you like getting called a slut?” he presses himself against you, almost chest to chest, smirking evilly while he raggedly breathes, “or princess? or you like me talking about splitting your pussy open?”

“all…of it,” you gasp through two punctual thrusts of his, he’s hit your cervix multiple times but the pleasure is so overwhelming, you’re starting to enjoy it

toji snickers a little, opening your legs a bit further to expose more of your torso, your tits being part of it and his intention, you realize when he goes down to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. he swirls the bud around his mouth and bites at it with his teeth while he starts to jackhammer into you, making sure each thrust is deep.

his balls start making a pap–pap sound everytime he thrusts back in, accompanying the wet squelch of toji dragging himself inside of you repeatedly.

it’s rough and hard, but more intimate than anything considering the few words being exchanged. the both of you are more concentrated on each other’s presence and reactions because after toji comes back up from your tits, he finds your lips and starts to makeout with you languidly.

the grip on your thighs grows bruising when you mix tongue into the kissing, coaxing him to do the same too.

“feel so fucking good,” he hisses when you clench around him uncontrollably, a sign of your incoming orgasm, “pussy’s close isn’t it”

you nod instead of speaking, concentrating on the delicious drag of his veins against your walls and the prodding of his tip at your g-spot

toji leans close to your ear, voice hard and lusty as he starts to mutter sweet and dirty nothings, “such a pretty girl, taking this cock so good.”

he then bites your ear softly, “you gonna milk my cock like a good girl? squeeze my load all out?”

shivering, you nod again and make a whimper in response

“squirt all over me angel, i know you want to,” toji starts plummeting a bit harder into your sweet spot, finding it again, the action has you looking down at where you’re both connected unable to fathom how large he is and just how he’s making it all fit inside, “look at me.”

one of his hands is gently under your chin now, guiding you to look at him since your eyes had strayed from his own. he’s breathing heavy now and his irises are almost completely gone considering the blown out size of his pupils.

“cum with me sweetheart,” the hand from your chin snakes its way down to your clit so as to start rubbing harsh circles for you, and you just know you’re about to make a bigger mess than before, “wrap that pretty pussy around me. milk the shit out of this dick. cum’s all yours baby.”

“ ‘s too much,” you whine, breathing ragged, “i don’t think–oh my god!”

you feel the pleasure wash over your entire body and come out all over toji’s lower abdomen accompannied by the profuse hard flutters of your pussy on his cock. you release a combination between a whine and a cry, feeling completely wrecked by the sensation.

toji follows you the moment your release gets all over him, his hips stiling and jerking into you roughly, this time giving hard kisses to your cervix instead of the fleeting small pecks from earlier. his cum feels immense, its warmth you can feel pooling inside you as toji sputters it into you.

“shit! fuck!” he groans, watching himself push it all into you before looking back up and taking you into a passionate kiss

“atta girl,” he utters after swiping his tongue across your teeth, one of his hands coming up to tentatively hold one of your breasts, “that feel good?”

tired, you weakly nod and sigh a weak, “mhm”

he lets go of the one hand holding your thigh up and moves both of your legs so that they wrap around his waist. he hasn’t pulled out yet.

“gonna buy you a new couch,” his lips twitch a little as he looks at the surrounding area near the both of you, “shit’s soaked.”

“toji!” you whine, embarrased, and pull him into you so you can hide your face.

toji doesn’t let you, instead pulling away so he can get a good look at you and grin, “you got spare sheets?”

“yeah?” you furrow your eyebrows, “but what does that have to do with the couch?”

“it doesnt. I’m fucking you on your bed later,” he shifts both of your bodies so that you can sit on top of him now just as he shifts the conversation back to what it was, “we’ll go shopping for the couch tomorrow. make it celebratory gift.”

“for the first time we fucked?”

“nah,” he lands a teasing kiss on your nose, “for your first time.”

you roll your eyes at him, “just because its been three years–”

“don’t care, doesn’t count if you never came with shrimp dick.”

a fit of giggles escapes you as you press yourself up against him for physical support, “yeah okay, it’s my first time gift.”

then your eyes stray to his very wet clothes on the floor next to yours, “sorry i got your clothes dirty though. I don’t think i have anything for you to wear either.”

toji puts both of his thumbs at the corner of your mouth to make your pout disappear, he snickers at himself for it, “i’ll call my assistant to drop off some clothes here.”

“how long will that take?”

“long as our shower,” toji huffs as he lifts the both of you up and starts walking to your restroom.

“and how long will that take?” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him and clinging onto his shoulders.

“three more orgasms,” he comments, opening the door and leading the both of you to a very steamy shower.

“you haven’t even made the call yet!”

“shut up.”

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk x you #toji zenin x reader #jjk x reader #toji zenin x you #toji fushigro x reader

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pucksandpower · 22 days

Text

Live Like We Want To

Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Summary: there’s only one thing harder than keeping a relationship between two of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden … keeping a relationship between three of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request

The drivers settle on the awkwardly shaped white couch, microphones clipped carefully to the collars of their shirts, waiting for the pre-race press conference to begin.

Lewis fiddles with his Mercedes cap, lost in thought. Lando and Daniel banter back and forth, Lando ribbing Daniel about his recent attempts to be artsy on Instagram and Daniel giving as good as he gets.

The moderator steps up to begin the press conference. After a few standard questions about the track and the upgrades the teams have brought, it’s time for the driver questions.

A reporter looks over at Lewis. “Lewis, you and Y/N seem very close lately. There’s been speculation you two might be dating. What do you say about that?”

Lewis opens his mouth but before he can respond, Daniel jumps in. “Oh come on, we all know Lewis is way too old for Y/N! She needs someone younger and spicier.” He winks at the camera.

Lando chuckles. “Too right, mate. Y/N deserves a fun guy who actually knows how to have a good time, not someone almost eligible for a senior discount.”

Lewis forces out a rehearsed laugh. “Hey now, I’m not that old!”

“Face it, the age gap is just too much. She needs someone closer to her own age, like me!” Lando says with a grin.

“You?” Daniel scoffs. “Please, Y/N needs a real man to show her a good time, not some baby-faced kid.”

“Who are you calling a kid?” Lando shoots back. “I’m mature for my age!”

Max, who has been quiet up until now, suddenly pipes up. “Actually, I think Y/N and I would make a great match ...”

The other drivers swivel their heads to look at him. “You?” Daniel says in disbelief.

“Why not?” Max shrugs. “We’ve got a connection.”

Lewis grits his teeth, struggling to stay quiet. He wants to tell them all to back off, that you’re taken. But he knows he can’t reveal the truth about your relationship, as much as it pains him to stay silent.

Lando laughs. “Mate, she’s way out of your league!”

“Oh yeah? I could get her if I wanted to,” Max says defensively.

Daniel grins and claps Max on the back. “Ooh, those are fighting words! You don’t stand a chance.”

Max crosses his arms. “Maybe she likes a bad boy. I’m more exciting than any of you.”

“Exciting? You?” Lando pretends to yawn. “All you ever think about off the track is sim racing! That’s not exciting, it’s dull.”

“Hey! Sim racing is very intense and takes a lot of skill,” Max says indignantly.

Lewis has finally had enough. “Alright guys, maybe we should change the subject. I’m sure Y/N can decide for herself who she wants to spend time with, without all of us bickering over her.”

Lando ignores Lewis and looks back at Max, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I bet I could get Y/N to go out with me before you can.”

“You’re so on!” Max says.

Daniel shakes his head. “Woah now, let’s leave the poor girl out of your competition. Especially since neither of you have a chance anyway.”

“Oh really? I suppose you think you’re the obvious choice?” Max says sarcastically.

“Obviously!” Daniel replies with a cocky grin.

As the three younger drivers continue with their posturing, Lewis pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. He catches the moderator’s eye and nods, signaling it’s time to move on.

The moderator clears his throat. “Alright, next question ...”

After the press conference ends, Lewis hurriedly gathers his things. As he’s walking out of the media center, Max catches up to him.

“No hard feelings about all that, mate?” Max says sheepishly.

Lewis musters up a smile. “Of course not. It was all in good fun.”

“Cool.” Max nods. “For what it’s worth, I don’t actually have a thing for Y/N. I was just messing around back there.”

“I know, I know,” Lewis says, clapping Max just a tad too hard on the shoulder before turning to go. Over his shoulder he calls out, “May the best man win!”

Max laughs and shakes his head as Lewis walks away.

Lewis enters the Mercedes garage and immediately spots you chatting with the engineers. His heart skips a beat like it always does when he sees you. A vision in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you lean over a data sheet, nodding intently.

So beautiful.

You glance up and spot Lewis. Your face lights up, a radiant smile spreading across it. Lewis grins back, the stress of the press conference fading away.

He waits until you’re done talking to the engineers, then pulls you discreetly aside. In an empty meeting room, Lewis wraps you in a tight embrace.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling your hair.

You cling to him. “I missed you. How was the press conference?”

Lewis hesitates. “It was … interesting.”

You pull back to look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there were some questions about us. Our relationship.”

Your eyes widen. “What did you say?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal anything. But the other drivers jumped in with their opinions.”

You groan. “Do I even want to know?”

Lewis runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Well, apparently I’m way too old for you. Daniel, Lando, and Max all started competing over who would be your best match.”

You snort. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know, I know,” Lewis says. “I wanted to tell them you’re mine, but ...”

“You did the right thing keeping quiet,” you say gently, taking his hands in yours. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy, keeping our relationship a secret.”

Lewis sighs. “I just hate not being able to claim you as my girlfriend in public. Having to pretend I don’t care when other guys flirt with you.”

You squeeze his hands supportively. “I know. But my dad would freak if he knew I was dating you. He’s so overprotective. And the press would have a field day if they found out Lewis Hamilton was seeing Toto Wolff’s daughter.”

“You’re right,” Lewis says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

You smile softly at him. “Just think, one day we won’t have to hide anymore. We’ll be out and proud for the whole world to see.”

Lewis grins. “I look forward to that day.” He pauses, gazing at you tenderly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Lewis glances around quickly before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. All the stress and frustration of pretending melts away as your lips meet.

You come up for air a few moments later, both flushed. “We should get back before someone notices we’re gone,” you murmur.

Lewis nods reluctantly. “See you after quali?”

“Definitely.” You give him one more quick peck then slip out of the room, back to the bustle of the paddock.

Lewis watches you leave, his heart full.

One day there will be no more hiding. One day you’ll be free to share your love with the world.

He just has to be patient. You’re worth the wait.

***

You’re sitting outside of Mercedes hospitality between practice sessions, chatting with Mick Schumacher. Mick is eagerly telling you about his experience getting to take the W15 out in FP1 that morning when Charles Leclerc wanders over.

“Hello Y/N, Mick,” Charles says with an easy smile.

“Oh hey Charles, what’s up?” You say casually, hoping he makes this quick. Ever since that silly press conference, Charles has been popping up everywhere trying to get your attention.

“Not much. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Charles says, ignoring Mick and focusing his gaze on you.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Um, thanks?”

Mick glances between you two and starts to stand up. “I’ll give you guys some space.”

“No, stay!” You say quickly, grabbing Mick’s arm. You turn back to Charles. “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to come say hi, see how you’re doing.” Charles drags over a chair and sits down close beside you. Too close.

You slide your chair away ever so slightly. “I’m fine, thanks. Just hanging with Mick.”

Charles nods, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “Have you given any more thought to grabbing dinner sometime? I know this great little restaurant in the city, very private and intimate.”

“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll have to pass,” you say politely. Mick looks back and forth between you two, a faint smirk on his face.

Charles pouts. “Come on, it would be fun! No pressure, just two friends enjoying a nice meal.”

You resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think you’re that naive? “Sorry Charles, but I’m going to be really busy this weekend. Raincheck?” You have no intention of ever taking him up on the offer, but maybe it will get him to back off for now.

“Playing hard to get? I like it,” Charles winks.

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you really think. Time for a subject change. “So, you feeling good about the race this weekend?”

Charles sighs, finally moving away from the topic of dating you. “I think the car has potential, but Red Bull are still the ones to beat.”

You nod. “Very true. They have been especially dominant here the past few years.”

“We’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get pole and shock them all,” Charles says with a smile.

You chat about racing for a few more minutes before glancing at your phone. “Oh shoot, I have to get going. Meeting with my manager.” You stand up quickly. “See you later Charles. Bye Mick!”

Charles grabs your hand as you start to walk away. “Leaving already? At least let me walk you to your garage.”

You pull your hand back, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “I’m fine, thanks. Stay and chat with Mick!” You give them a little wave before briskly walking off.

As you make your way through the paddock you hear footsteps behind you. Glancing back you see Charles jogging to catch up with you. You bite back a groan.

“Y/N, wait up!” Charles calls after you. He hurries to your side, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I just thought I should properly apologize for being so forward back there. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”

You stop walking and turn to face him. “It’s okay, Charles. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

He looks relieved. “Good, I’m glad. The last thing I want is to upset you.” He shuffles his feet, looking down shyly. “I really do think you’re amazing, Y/N. Any guy would be so lucky to be with you.”

You soften a bit. As persistent as he is, you know Charles is a good guy at heart. “Thank you. I think you’ll find the right girl someday.”

“Well, I was rather hoping the right girl was standing in front of me now,” Charles says earnestly.

You shake your head. “Charles ...”

“I know, I’m being too bold again,” he says. “Please, just consider it? One dinner. If you hate it and never want to see me again, I’ll accept that.”

You hesitate. Maybe it would be easier to just go, let him down gently in person. But no … that’s too risky. If word got out it could compromise everything with Lewis. As much as you want to set Charles straight, you just have to keep playing hard to get.

“Like I said, just too busy right now,” you say firmly. “I should get to my meeting.”

Charles nods, looking slightly dejected. “Of course. Well, the offer stands. I’m not giving up that easily.” He smiles and heads off with a small wave.

Over the next two days Charles remains persistent, finding excuses to talk to you in the paddock and complimenting you endlessly on social media. You continue dodging his invitations, letting him down as gently as you can.

Sunday morning you’re doing a photoshoot for British Vogue, posing on the track. Charles happens to walk by as you’re finishing up. He saunters over and leans on the barrier, watching you intently. The photographer notices him hovering and suggests you take a quick picture together.

Charles immediately hops the barrier and throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. You plaster on a smile as the camera flashes.

“Beautiful! What an attractive couple,” the photographer gushes.

You extricate yourself from Charles’ grip. “We’re not … I mean we’re just friends,” you mutter.

“My mistake!” The photographer says. Charles just grins.

After the photoshoot ends you try to make a quick exit but Charles catches up and falls into step beside you.

“One picture together and we’re already mistaken for a couple! It must be a sign,” Charles says playfully.

You resist rolling your eyes again. “Clearly you’re not getting the message here. I’m not interested in anything beyond friendship.”

Charles just smiles wider. “Ah, but friendship is the basis for any lasting romance. I’m happy to start as friends and see where it goes.”

You stop walking and turn to him. Time for some straight talk. “Charles. Listen to me. I do not want to date you. At all. Please stop asking.”

Charles’ smile finally falters slightly. “I see. My apologies, I clearly misread the situation.”

You feel a twinge of guilt at his crestfallen face. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just forget it and move on.”

Charles nods, looking thoughtful. For a moment you think maybe he’s finally going to back off. But after a pause he says, “Well, since romance is off the table for now, friendship it is.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real?

Oblivious to your incredulous expression, Charles just keeps talking. “The season’s almost over, but I look forward to seeing much more of you next year when Lewis is my new teammate.” He winks.

It takes you a second to process his words. When they sink in your eyes go wide. “Wait, Lewis is joining Ferrari next season?”

“Oh, has it not been announced yet?” Charles grins mischievously. “My mistake. Forget I said anything.”

You grab his arm. “Charles, tell me!”

He mimes zipping his lips.

You groan in frustration. “Ugh, fine. Keep your secret for now.” You’ll get the truth out of Lewis later.

Charles just smiles innocently. “See you around, friend.” He strolls off with a little wave, finally leaving you in peace.

You shake your head as you watch him go. Next year is sure to be interesting with Charles around. But you take comfort knowing that no matter what, you and Lewis can get through it together.

***

The 2025 season kicks off in Melbourne. You’re wandering the paddock under the bright Australian sun, dodging TV crews and trying not to get run over by the team scooters zipping every which way.

As you pass by the Ferrari garage you peek inside, spotting Lewis talking to some engineers. He glances up and meets your eye, giving you a subtle smile before returning to his conversation.

Your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s been nonstop media obligations since arriving in Albert Park and you haven’t had a moment alone with Lewis yet. Between his big move to Ferrari and the speculation about your relationship, you’ve been the center of attention.

You linger nearby, hoping to snag a private moment with Lewis. As you hover just outside the garage you hear footsteps approaching. Glancing over you see Charles strolling up, looking effortlessly cool in his team kit.

“Well hello there,” Charles says with a grin. “Come to wish me luck before qualifying?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “You caught me. I snuck over to send positive vibes your way.”

Charles chuckles. “I knew you couldn’t resist coming to see me.”

You shake your head amusedly. Same old Charles. “Actually I was looking for Lew-” you stop yourself just in time. “Um, just wandering around saying hi to everyone!”

Charles’ eyes gleam knowingly but he doesn’t call you out on your near slip-up. “Of course. We’re happy to have Lewis join the Ferrari family. Should be a fun season.”

You nod. “Definitely. I might have to frequent the Ferrari garage more often,” you add teasingly.

“You’ll always be welcome here,” Charles says. “In fact, there’s an open seat on my side of the garage. You’re more than welcome to join.” He smiles invitingly.

You hesitate, tempted despite yourself. Before you can respond you hear Lewis calling Charles from inside the garage.

“Charles! The debrief is starting soon, let’s go.”

Charles turns back to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Duty calls. But think about my offer, yeah? Plenty of races left this season for you to cheer on your favorite driver.” He winks before jogging into the garage.

You catch Lewis’ eye as Charles brushes past him. Lewis gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you’re okay. You smile reassuringly before blowing him a subtle kiss and walking away.

Over the next few races you find yourself spending more time with Ferrari than you expected. You tell yourself it’s just to support Lewis in his first season with a new team, but a small voice in your head whispers that it’s really to see Charles.

Despite your better judgment, you can’t deny enjoying Charles’ flirty banter and shameless pursuit of you. And clearly he doesn’t intend to back down now that Lewis is his teammate. If anything, Charles seems more determined than ever to win your affection.

By the time the Chinese Grand Prix rolls around, you’re dangerously close to having a full blown crush on Charles. Sitting in the Ferrari garage watching him joke around with the mechanics, you have to refrain from staring at him too obviously.

After qualifying, you wait around hoping Lewis or Charles have time to sneak away for a bit. You spot Lewis first and flag him down. He follows you to a secluded spot behind the paddock.

“Great lap today,” you say, rising on tiptoes to kiss him congratulations.

Lewis smiles against your lips but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. “Thanks love. Listen, can we talk?”

You pull back, brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, what’s up?”

Lewis runs a hand over his face. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling about this whole situation with Charles.”

You tense up slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And if I’m being honest … I’ve noticed some looks going the other direction as well.” Lewis keeps his voice neutral and non-accusatory.

You bite your lip. No point lying to him. “I’m sorry. I tried to ignore him at first but he’s just so charming and persistent. I swear nothing has happened between us though!” You add hastily.

Lewis rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe you, don’t worry. But it seems there might be some mutual attraction there, even if you haven’t acted upon it. I think we should discuss that openly.”

You nod slowly. As nerve wracking as this conversation is, you appreciate Lewis’ calm approach. No jealousy or accusations, just honest communication.

“You’re right,” you say. “I’ve been trying really hard not to, but I can’t deny feeling drawn to Charles.” You look down, ashamed to admit it out loud.

Lewis lifts your chin gently. “Hey, it’s okay. Emotions aren’t always rational. I’m not upset with you.”

You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, you know that? What did I do to deserve someone so understanding?”

“Just got lucky I guess,” Lewis says with a wink, making you laugh. His expression turns serious again. “But we should figure out what to do moving forward. Any ideas?”

You take a deep breath. Time to put all cards on the table. “Well, there is one possibility. But it’s a bit unconventional ...”

Lewis raises his eyebrows. “I’m open to anything. What were you thinking?”

You rush out your words before you lose your nerve. “What if we brought Charles into the relationship? As in, invited him to be with us?”

Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t immediately shoot down the suggestion. “You mean the three of us, together? Huh.”

He looks thoughtful. You fidget nervously awaiting his verdict. This could make or break everything.

Finally Lewis meets your anxious gaze. “I admit that’s not what I was envisioning … but I’m not opposed to at least exploring it.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Really? You’d be open to trying?”

Lewis nods slowly. “If we all discussed it openly and set clear boundaries, I would consider it. I want you to be happy, Y/N. Even if that means expanding our relationship.”

You throw your arms around him. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to have your support with this.”

Lewis hugs you tight. “Of course, love. We’re in this together.”

You chat excitedly about the possibility of bringing Charles into your private world. It’s risky, but maybe just crazy enough to work.

“Why don’t we invite him up to the penthouse tonight and see how the chemistry is?” Lewis suggests.

Your pulse quickens at the thought. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Lewis kisses you softly. “Alright then, it’s a date. I think you should go talk to Charles.”

Tonight will determine if you move forward as a trio or close the door on this tantalizing new dynamic. Either way, you’re grateful to be exploring it together with the man you love.

***

You smooth down your dress for the tenth time, nerves and excitement warring within you.

Tonight’s the night.

Taking a deep breath, you glance around the penthouse one more time. Candles cast a soft glow, music plays quietly in the background, and wine chills on the counter. Time to see if this fantasy can become a reality.

Lewis emerges from the bedroom looking unfairly hot, designer shirt hugging his muscular frame. He wraps you in his arms from behind, meeting your anxious gaze in the floor-length mirror.

“You ready for this, love?” He asks, lips brushing your neck.

You shiver and lean back into him. “I think so. Are you sure you’re okay with it though? We can call it off if you’ve changed your mind.”

Lewis smiles reassuringly. “I haven’t. We’ll take it slow and see how it feels. No pressure.”

You smile back gratefully. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”

“Mm, feel free to say it more,” Lewis teases, making you giggle. He kisses you tenderly. “Let’s do this.”

Right on cue, the doorbell rings. You and Lewis exchange one more weighted look before going to answer it.

You open the door to find Charles standing there, looking ridiculously handsome as always. His eyes widen almost comically as he sees Lewis over your shoulder.

“Lewis! What are you doing here?” Charles stammers out.

You bite your lip to hide a smile. “Why don’t you come in?”

Still looking baffled, Charles steps inside. You lead him to the sleek living room, Charles glancing around in confusion.

“Have a seat,” Lewis says kindly. Charles perches on the edge of the grey suede couch, visibly wondering what the hell is going on. You and Lewis sit across from him on the loveseat.

“So … is one of you going to explain what’s happening?” Charles asks slowly.

You look to Lewis. “Maybe you should start?”

Lewis nods and turns to Charles. “Right, so I’m sure you’re very confused about all this. But there’s something Y/N and I need to tell you.”

He reaches over and takes your hand. You give it a supportive squeeze.

“Y/N and I are together. Romantically,” Lewis reveals. “We’ve been dating in secret for over two years now.”

Charles’ eyes bug out of his head. “You two are … WHAT? Since when?”

“Since midway through the 2022 season,” you explain gently.

“But … but ...” Charles splutters. He looks between you and Lewis, dumbfounded. It would be comical if you weren’t so nervous.

“I know this must be shocking to hear,” you say. “We’ve had to keep it very quiet.”

Charles drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. If you’re together, why am I here?”

You glance at Lewis. “Go on,” he says with an encouraging nod.

You turn back to Charles. “Well, the thing is … we’re very attracted to you too, Charles.”

Charles freezes, eyes zeroing in on you. “You … you are?” He whispers.

You nod, holding his gaze. “I tried to ignore it, but I have feelings for you. And Lewis and I have discussed exploring what it would be like if the three of us … were together.”

Charles just stares, mouth agape. You start to worry you’ve broken him.

“Charles?” You prompt gently. “Thoughts?”

Charles visibly shakes himself. “I just … I need a minute here,” he mutters. He puts his head in his hands, taking a few deep breaths.

You nod understandingly and fall silent, letting the information sink in. After a tense minute, Charles lifts his head.

“So you two want to try some kind of … polyamorous relationship? With me as your shared boyfriend?”

“Only if you’re interested,” Lewis clarifies. “We know it’s unconventional.”

Charles chews his lip thoughtfully. “And you would be okay sharing her?” He asks Lewis.

Lewis squeezes your hand. “It’s not about possessing her. It’s about all of us wanting to explore something together. I trust you both.”

Your heart swells with love for this incredible man. Charles looks touched as well.

“I appreciate you putting your trust in me,” Charles says earnestly. “This is a lot to process but … I’m open to trying.” He looks between you and Lewis. “I want this. If you’ll have me.”

Joy and arousal flood your body hearing those words. You glance at Lewis to confirm.

He smiles. “We want you, Charles.”

Charles’ eyes darken. He stands up from the couch and closes the distance between you. Gazing down at you, he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

You nod, heart hammering in your chest. Charles’ hand slides into your hair and he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is electric, your body lighting up everywhere you touch.

After a dizzying minute you break apart, flushed and breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, his eyes burning.

“I want you,” he whispers. “I want this.”

Your pulse racing, you turn and pull Lewis into a passionate kiss. You pour all your need and love into it, leaving no doubt that you want him just as much.

Lewis’ eyes are dark when you separate. Without a word, he stands and holds his hand out to Charles. Charles takes it immediately. They stare at each other for a weighted moment before Lewis reels him in for a searing kiss.

You can only watch, utterly mesmerized by the sight of the two gorgeous men exploring each other. They kiss aggressively, hands roaming over backs and arms. Finally they break apart, panting.

Charles turns to you, eyes blazing. In two strides he’s kneeling before you, hands on your thighs.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasps out. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I want this. I want this so much,” you affirm breathlessly.

Charles surges up to capture your lips again. Lewis moves behind you, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders. Sandwiched between them, you’ve never felt more alive.

You have a fleeting thought that you should slow down, take things step by step. But as their hands and lips worship your body, reason melts away.

Tonight you’ll explore each other fully and forge this new bond that transcends convention. Tomorrow you can discuss logistics.

Charles kisses you hungrily while Lewis deftly unzips your dress, letting it slip to the floor. His hands glide over your newly exposed skin as Charles trails kisses down your neck to your lace-clad breasts.

Lewis reaches around to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts to Charles’ eager mouth. You gasp and arch into his touch as his tongue swirls around one nipple, then the other.

Lewis captures your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans of pleasure. His hands roam your body, caressing your hips and rear before slipping into your panties. You keen against his mouth as his fingers find your slick heat.

Charles kisses his way down your trembling body until he’s kneeling before you. Locking eyes with you, he slowly peels off your panties. Lewis moves behind you, arms wrapped around you, hands still working their magic between your legs.

Charles parts your thighs and dives in hungrily. You cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you, the dual sensations pushing you quickly to the edge. Your pleasured screams echo through the penthouse as you come undone between these two incredible men.

They lay you gently on the plush rug, hands and mouths continuing to ignite fires across your hypersensitive skin. You reach for them frantically, needing to feel them too. Together you undress them with eager hands until all three of you are bare and flushed with need.

Lewis kisses his way down your body until his head is between your legs, stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. His talented tongue gets to work, licking and sucking your sensitive bud as you grasp his braids, back arching off the rug.

Charles moves up your body to take a hard nipple in his mouth, fingers tweaking and plucking the other. The near-overstimulation makes you see stars, crying out louder as Lewis’ fingers join his mouth in driving you to euphoria.

As you come down from your high, panting and trembling, Charles captures your lips in a messy kiss. You taste yourself and your favorite body oil on his tongue as he grinds his hard length against your hip. Guiding him up further, you take him in your mouth eagerly, reveling in his groans of pleasure.

Lewis slides up behind you, hardness nudging your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, filling you up exquisitely. You moan around Charles in your mouth as Lewis sets a steady rhythm. Charles’ eyes are nearly black watching Lewis take you from behind.

Charles gently pulls out of your mouth, moving down to kiss Lewis passionately. Their tongues tangle as Lewis continues rocking into you. The erotic sight makes you clench around Lewis. Sensing you’re close, he reaches around to circle your clit until you shatter again.

As you float back down, Lewis slips out from behind you and lays on his back. You straddle him eagerly, taking him back inside your slick heat. Charles moves in behind you, grasping your hips. Feeling his tip brush your back entrance, you glance back and nod consent.

Charles pushes into your other hole slowly as Lewis praises you for taking them both so well. Sandwiched between their hard bodies, filled so exquisitely, you feel worshipped and desired. They find a synchronized rhythm, driving you higher until you’re screaming out your pleasure again.

Lewis follows you over the edge, your pulsing muscles milking him dry with a growl. Charles takes over, pounding into you relentlessly until he stills, spilling deep inside with a choked cry.

You collapse together in a satisfied, breathless tangle of limbs. Trading soft kisses and caresses, you bask in the afterglow of this new bond forged in passion. Staring into your boys’ sated eyes, you know you’ve found something extraordinary.

For now, you are content to let passion consume you, losing yourself in two sets of hands, two mouths worshipping every inch of you.

Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, your world has expanded to make room for three.

***

The new season is in full swing and your blossoming relationship could not be going better. Stealing moments alone is a challenge, but the time you spend together makes it all worthwhile.

The only downside is how difficult it is for Charles to hide his feelings for you in public. While Lewis has had practice concealing your relationship for years now, Charles is still learning restraint. His affection for you shines through in lingering looks and subtle touches that don’t go unnoticed.

During one pre-race press conference, things come to a head. You’re standing just off stage, watching proudly as Charles and Lewis field questions.

A reporter looks over at Charles. “Charles, we’ve noticed Y/N hanging around the Ferrari garage a lot this season. Any insight into why the daughter of the Mercedes team principal spends so much time with your team instead?”

Charles tenses, panic flashing across his face. Before he can respond, Pierre Gasly pipes up from the end of the table.

“She’s always welcome to spend time with Alpine too!” Pierre says with a playful wink your direction. “Our garage door is open for you anytime, chérie.”

Charles’ hand clenches into a fist under the table. You can see him biting his tongue, holding back from saying that you’re taken.

Lewis discretely reaches over and lays a calming hand on Charles’ arm. Charles takes a deep breath, the brief touch grounding him.

“Y/N is friends with many drivers, not just myself,” Charles says evenly. “She offers encouragement to everyone on the grid.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding. Crisis averted, for now. But the reporters look unsatisfied with Charles’ generic response.

One speaks up again. “Come on Charles, you two seem especially close lately. Anything you want to tell us about the nature of your relationship?”

Charles’ eyes flick towards you. He opens his mouth but hesitates.

Lewis jumps in. “Like Charles said, Y/N is a supportive friend to all the drivers. We’re lucky to have her around.” He steers the conversation to less dangerous waters and the questions about you cease.

After the press conference, Charles makes a beeline for you. Taking your hands, he searches your face anxiously.

“I’m so sorry. I nearly slipped up and exposed everything. I just couldn’t stand Pierre flirting with you like that.”

You smile reassuringly, touched by his protectiveness. “It’s okay, you stopped yourself in time. I know it’s not easy.”

Lewis joins you two in your hidden corner. He squeezes Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “You handled it well, babe. I know firsthand how hard it is to stay silent.”

Charles sighs. “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long. Lying about the woman I lo-” He stops himself. “About someone so important is torture.”

Your heart skips a beat. Lewis meets your gaze, equally affected by Charles’ unspoken words.

Taking Charles’ face in your hands, you kiss him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have not just one, but two incredible men willing to go through all this for my sake. I promise, it won’t be forever.”

Charles relaxes into your touch. Lewis moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head. Charles covers Lewis’ hands with his own. The three of you share a quiet, tender moment before stepping back out into the bustle of race day.

That evening after the race, the three of you finally have time alone back at the hotel. Lewis pours champagne while you massage the tension from Charles’ shoulders.

“What Pierre said today was out of line,” you murmur. “But you have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours, in every way that matters.” You press a kiss to his neck.

Charles twists to capture your lips. “I know. It just drives me crazy seeing other men try to take what’s mine.” His tone is playful yet possessive in a way that makes you shiver.

“Let them flirt all they want,” Lewis says, handing Charles a glass of champagne. “She only has eyes for us.”

You and Charles both smile at Lewis’ quiet confidence. Taking your glass, you raise it in a toast. “To the apples of my eye. Here’s to a long future together.”

You clink glasses and sip, eyes locking over the rims. Setting your glass aside, you take each of their hands in yours.

“I know keeping this secret isn’t easy. But it will be so worth it in the end, when we can stop hiding and be together openly. We just have to be patient a little longer.”

Lewis squeezes your hand, emotion shining in his eyes. “You’re worth the wait, darling.”

Charles cradles your face adoringly. “A thousand times over.”

Your heart swells being surrounded by such unwavering love and support. Despite the challenges, in this moment, everything feels exactly as it should.

The rest of the night is spent getting lost in each other, reaffirming the bonds between you. Fingers intertwined, bodies moving as one, you bask in the oasis you’ve created amidst the pressures of your public lives.

Tomorrow you’ll go back to pretending, dodging prying questions and curious stares. But here, cocooned in this hotel room, you’re simply three people entwined by love. Partners promising without words to stand united until the day your relationship can step into the light.

For now, secrecy is a small price to pay for a love unlike any other.

***

The azure waters of the Mediterranean glisten under the Sardinian sun as you lounge on the deck of the yacht. Lewis rubs sunscreen slowly over your shoulders, his touch sending tingles through your body.

Charles emerges from the water, rivulets streaming down his toned chest. He joins you on the loungers, shaking his wet hair playfully over you and Lewis. You squeal and swat him away, laughing.

These past two weeks sailing around Sardinia have been pure bliss. Finally you can be as affectionate as you want, stealing kisses and cuddling close without worrying who might see. You’ve explored every inch of this yacht and each other’s bodies. After keeping your relationship under wraps, it’s glorious being so free.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” you sigh contentedly.

“Soon, love,” Lewis says, pulling you close. “Just have to get through this season.”

Charles nods, trailing his fingers down your arm. “It will all be worth it in the end.”

You smile softly at them both, heart swelling with love. “You’re right. As long as we’re together.”

You while away the rest of the afternoon trading lazy kisses and caresses, basking in the sun and each other.

That night, fireworks burst bright over the inky sea. You tilt your head back against Charles’ chest, watching the rainbow sparks. Lewis nuzzles your neck from behind, arms wrapped around your waist.

“I love you both,” you whisper as gold and purple light up the sky. Charles kisses your temple while Lewis squeezes you gently. You’ve never felt so full of love and joy.

Then, you all fly to Lewis’ villa in Brazil for the rest of summer break. The days pass in a carefree blur — lounging by the pool, sunset walks on the beach, and passion-filled nights tangled together in bed.

Charles cooks dinner shirtless one evening, playfully feeding you and Lewis bites as you sip wine. Lewis pulls you into an impromptu dance around the kitchen, the three of you laughing breathlessly.

“If only this could never end,” you say wistfully, pulling them in for a group hug.

“One day, baby,” Lewis murmurs, kissing your hair. Charles rubs your back, gazing at you tenderly.

You etch every moment into your memory, from languid mornings waking up between them to romantic picnics at sunset on the beach.

If only you could freeze time and stay in this private paradise.

But of course, time marches on. Before you know it, the break ends and you’re headed to the Netherlands for the start of the second half of the season.

Walking through Zandvoort a friendly distance from Charles and Lewis, everything feels different now. You have to stop yourself from being too openly affectionate, hyperaware of prying eyes.

Lewis senses your tension. “Soon this will all be out in the open,” he reminds you softly. The secret aspect still weighs on you all, but the promise of a future without hiding lifts your spirits.

On Thursday, just a few days before the race, you’re leaving the motorhome when your phone explodes with notifications. With a sinking sense of dread, you open social media to see leaked paparazzi shots plastered everywhere — the three of you kissing on the yacht, Lewis’ hands blatantly grabbing your rear in Brazil, you and Charles making out poolside.

You stagger back against the wall, blood rushing in your ears. This is a nightmare. Your private oasis shattered, your relationship outed in the most public, scandalous way possible.

Charles exits behind you and his face pales seeing your expression. Lewis comes around the corner a second later and you wordlessly show him your phone screen.

“Fuck,” Lewis swears. “Where did these come from?”

“I don’t know, they’re everywhere,” you say shakily.

Charles peers over your shoulder, jaw clenched. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now we need to get you out of here.”

You’re confused only for a second before you hear the swell of voices and footsteps rapidly approaching. Security won’t hold the media mob back for long.

Charles and Lewis spring into action, flanking you protectively as you hurry back towards the entrance. Halfway there, the dam breaks as reporters and cameras flood the paddock. You freeze like a deer in headlights.

Chaos erupts, cameras flashing, mics shoved in your faces, everyone shouting questions at once. Charles and Lewis shield you from the onslaught, yelling for security. Two guards appear and help navigate you through the frenzy back into the Ferrari motorhome.

You collapse on the sofa, heart pounding. Lewis paces angrily while Charles punches the wall. “Fuck! We were so careful,” he rages.

You blink back panicked tears. “What do we do now?”

Lewis sits and pulls you into his arms. “We face it head on. No more hiding. We own this together.”

Charles kneels before you, clasping your hands. “I’m with you no matter what. We’ll get through this.”

You cling to them, anchoring yourself. As long as you have each other, you can survive the storm.

You’ve just managed to catch your breath when the door flies open. Your head whips up to see none other than your father storming in, fury etched on his face.

“What the HELL is going on here?” He thunders.

You shrink back against Lewis. This is already a disaster — but your enraged, overprotective father finding out like this? You brace yourself as his glare pins you in place, demanding an explanation.

Toto slams the door behind him, eyes blazing like you’ve never seen before.

“Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?” He shouts. “Because I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my daughter is splashed all over the tabloids in compromising photos with her secret boyfriends!”

You shrink back against Lewis, tears pooling in your eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you.

“Toto, let’s all just take a breath and talk about this,” Lewis says calmly.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” Toto snarls, pointing a finger at Lewis. “You are supposed to be teammates and instead you’re … you’re ...” He splutters, at a loss for words.

“We’re in a relationship,” Charles says firmly, taking your hand. “The three of us.”

“A relationship?” Toto looks apoplectic. “She is my daughter!”

“Who makes her own choices,” Charles shoots back. “She’s an adult.”

Toto ignores him, glaring at Lewis and you. “I trusted you with her. And this is how you repay that trust?”

Lewis squeezes your shoulder gently before standing up to face Toto. “I understand you’re upset. But our relationship isn’t about you.”

“The hell it isn’t!” Toto shouts. “I am her father!”

“Stop yelling at them!” You cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Toto falters slightly seeing your distress. Charles pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and glaring at Toto.

“Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?” Charles snaps. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation.”

Toto looks back and forth between the three of you, anger warring with confusion. Lewis takes a cautious step toward him.

“I know this is a shock,” Lewis says evenly. “But we didn’t intend for it to come out like this.”

He gestures for Toto to have a seat. After a tense moment Toto sinks into the armchair, face still thunderous. Lewis sits back down beside you.

“Help me understand this,” Toto says tightly. “Clearly this … arrangement has been going on behind my back for some time.”

You take a shaky breath. “We’ve been together since the start of the season. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but we knew you would react badly.”

Toto drags a hand down his face. “You cannot expect me to be happy about this. My daughter dating two men at once? One of whom used to be my employee?”

“We don’t need your approval,” Charles says firmly. “All that matters is that we love each other. Right?”

He looks at you and Lewis. You both nod, Lewis taking your hand supportively.

“She’s right,” Lewis tells Toto. “We don’t need your blessing. But we want you to understand this is real, not just some fling or scandal.”

You look pleadingly at your father. “Please Vati, try to understand. I’ve never been happier than with these two.”

Toto stares back stonily. The silence stretches on. You feel Charles and Lewis tense on either side of you, bracing for Toto’s wrath.

Finally Toto sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “You’ve always been my sweet girl. My only wish is for your happiness and safety.”

He levels Charles and Lewis with a piercing look. “If either of you two hurts her, they’ll never find your bodies. Understand?”

Charles and Lewis both nod rapidly.

“We would never,” Lewis vows.

“Good. See that you don’t.” Toto turns back to you, expression softening. “This will take some adjustment. But I suppose if you’re happy ...”

“I am, I promise,” you assure him.

Toto shakes his head. “Well, try to keep the sordid details to yourself please.”

You huff out a wet laugh, wiping your eyes. “Deal.”

Toto nods stiffly and stands. Looking between the three of you, his face settles into resignation.

“I will do my best to … adjust to this,” he mutters. “But no funny business at the track!”

He points sternly at Charles and Lewis again. They both work to keep straight faces.

“Of course, totally professional at all times,” Lewis promises solemnly.

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Toto heads for the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns back.

“You’re still my little girl. I just want you safe and happy.”

You smile tearfully. “I know. Thank you.”

With a grunt and final glare at Charles and Lewis, Toto takes his leave.

The moment the door shuts, you collapse into their arms in relief. Laughing and crying all at once.

“That could have gone worse,” Charles remarks.

Lewis chuckles. “He only threatened us a little bit.”

You kiss them softly. “I can’t believe you stood up to him for me.”

Charles caresses your face. “Always.”

“We meant what we said — we’re in this together, no matter what,” Lewis affirms.

You cling to each other, coming down from the emotional rollercoaster. The worst is over. Your relationship is out in the open now. The media will have a field day, but you can weather any storm with your men by your side.

“So ...” you say with a watery laugh. “Who wants to handle the press release?”

***

The news of your relationship with Lewis and Charles has sent shockwaves through the paddock. You knew it would be a scandal, but the sheer scale of the reaction has been overwhelming.

Thankfully you’ve had each other to cling to through the firestorm. Their love and support keeps you strong in the face of snarling reporters and leering drivers.

In the Ferrari garage a few days later, Lewis has his arms wrapped around you, placing gentle kisses to your hair as you discuss weekend plans. Charles is in the engineering room, focused on prep for the upcoming race.

The two of you are in your own world together when Lando sheepishly approaches. "Hey mates, can I talk to you both for a sec?"

You tense instinctively and Lewis’ arm tightens around you protectively. But Lando’s face is regretful, not leering. “What’s up?” Lewis asks calmly.

Lando shuffles his feet. “I just wanted to apologize for all the times I hit on Y/N and crossed the line. I feel proper ashamed about it now that I know she was with you two. You deserve better from a friend.”

You and Lewis share a surprised look. Before you can respond, Pierre joins Lando, gazing at you repentantly.

“I want to also apologize,” Pierre says. “It was wrong of me to overstep boundaries and disrespect your relationship. I’m sorry.”

You bite your tongue, holding back what you really want to say. As usual, they’re ignoring you and directing apologies to Lewis instead.

Sensing your reaction, Lewis speaks up. “We appreciate you owning up to it, but I think Y/N deserves your apologies more. She’s the one you objectified and disrespected with the unwanted advances, after all.”

Lando and Pierre have the decency to look abashed. “You’re completely right, that was thoughtless of me,” Lando says. “I’m truly sorry for ever making you feel uncomfortable or pressured, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

Pierre nods. “Please accept my sincere apologies as well. I should have been more considerate of your feelings and respected your privacy.”

You give them a stiff smile. “Thank you. Just please think about how your words and actions affect women as fellow human beings, not just as conquests or property.”

Lando and Pierre both nod earnestly before excusing themselves. As they walk away Lewis kisses your temple. “Well handled, love. How are you feeling?”

You sigh heavily. “I appreciate the apologies, but it still stings that they only considered your feelings initially, not mine.”

Lewis makes a sympathetic noise and hugs you close. “You deserve so much more respect. I’m sorry this has all been so ugly.”

You cling to him, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “As long as I have you and Charles, I can face anything.”

Lewis is about to reply when footsteps approach again. You tense, but it’s only Charles this time. His smile fades seeing your expression.

“Everything okay here?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You explain what just happened with Lando and Pierre. Charles’ eyes flash. “They are lucky I wasn’t here. I would have had a thing or two to say about them disrespecting you like that.”

You smile softly, touched by his protectiveness. “My heroes. However would I cope without you two defending my honor?”

Lewis tickles your side playfully. “We have to protect our lady’s virtue!”

You swat him away, laughing. Charles kisses the top of your head. “Joking aside, you never have to tolerate that behavior again. Not with us here.”

“I know,” you reply, snuggling into them happily. "My gallant protectors."

***

“Home sweet home,” you declare as the car pulls up the long driveway to your family’s sprawling Swiss estate.

Lewis lets out an impressed whistle from the backseat. “This is incredible!”

“Just wait until you see inside,” you grin at him in the rearview mirror.

You had kept putting off bringing Lewis and Charles here but it was finally time for them to see where you grew up.

They grab your bags as you lead them inside the grand foyer with its sweeping marble staircase. Lewis and Charles gaze around, taking in the ornate moldings and priceless artwork adorning the walls.

“I know it’s a bit ... much,” you say self-consciously.

“Are you kidding? This place is amazing!” Lewis crows, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.

You give them a brief tour of the endless sitting rooms, home theater, indoor pool, and your father’s meticulously organized garage housing his impressive car collection.

Finally you bring them upstairs to the family bedrooms. With a deep breath, you push open the door to your childhood room.

Lewis and Charles follow you in, peering around with interest at the spacious suite with its canopy bed, plush seating area, and panoramic mountain views.

You watch nervously as Lewis wanders over to your bookshelf and Charles admires the view from the French doors. Waiting for their judgment, you feel self-conscious about your privileged upbringing.

Suddenly Charles points to your wall and turns to you with a grin. “Well well, what do we have here?”

You follow his gaze to the life-size posters still occupying prime real estate on your wall, relics from your starry-eyed teen years. A young Lewis from his early Mercedes days gazes broodingly down, next to a smirking teenage Charles in his Prema race suit from back in F2.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot those were there!” You groan, covering your rapidly reddening face.

Lewis chuckles, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “Aww, someone had a little crush, did they?” He teases.

“It was years ago!” You protest through your fingers.

Charles pries your hands away, smiling affectionately. “It’s cute you were our fan. Never be embarrassed for having good taste in drivers,” he winks.

Lewis kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry love, we won’t give you too hard a time about it,” he says magnanimously.

You snuggle into his embrace. “How lucky am I to have manifested my crushes into reality?”

“The lucky ones are us,” Charles murmurs, stroking your hair and kissing you tenderly.

Lewis tips your chin up to meet his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You cling to each other, the outside world fading away.

Eventually you lead them hand-in-hand to your massive bedroom balcony overlooking the mountains. The summer air is fragrant with the smell of wildflowers.

Settled together on the cushions, you snuggle between Lewis and Charles as they take in the stunning panoramic views.

“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here,” Lewis sighs contentedly. “Thank you for bringing us with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “Thank you for wanting to know every part of me.”

Charles wraps an arm around you, meeting your eyes sincerely. “Of course we do. Your soul is what we fell in love with first and foremost.”

You have to blink back tears at his words. Being with them has taught you that real love runs far deeper than surface trappings.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you pull them close, kissing each with all the love and gratitude overflowing inside you.

As the sun dips behind the mountains, setting the sky ablaze in stunning hues of orange and purple, you curl up safely between the two men who see, know, and love the real you. The only home you’ll ever need.

***

The warmly lit dining room of your family estate is filled with the clink of silverware and hum of conversation as you share an intimate dinner with your father, stepmother Susie, younger brother Jack, and your loves.

Despite your anxiety, the evening has gone smoothly so far. Toto seems impressed with Lewis and Charles’ maturity and devotion to you. Susie dotes on them like a surrogate mother. Only Jack seems bored, pushing food around his plate.

During a lull in the conversation, Toto turns to Lewis. “It’s remarkable what you are accomplishing at Ferrari this season. Good to see you on top of the podium again.”

Lewis smiles. “Thank you, Toto. It’s been incredible.”

“Still, I was surprised when you first told me you were leaving Mercedes,” Toto remarks. “I didn’t fully understand what prompted such a sudden departure.”

He levels Lewis with a probing gaze. You freeze nervously, grasping Charles and Lewis’ hands under the table. You’ve managed to avoid telling your father the real reason for Lewis’ change in teams. But it seems that reckoning has arrived.

Lewis meets Toto’s scrutinizing look evenly. “Well, as you know, Mercedes has strict rules against relationships within the team. It began impeding my personal happiness. So I sought more freedom elsewhere.”

Toto’s eyes narrow, glancing between the three of you. “And when exactly did this personal happiness begin?”

You hold your breath. Lewis says simply, “During my third to last season with the team.”

There’s a long, fraught silence. Jack glances around confused while Susie presses her napkin to her lips, no doubt hiding a small smile. She’s always been your most enthusiastic supporter.

Toto’s face slowly turns an alarming shade of eggplant purple. He points an accusatory finger at Lewis. “You! You were already involved with my daughter during your Mercedes contract?”

Lewis nods calmly. “We couldn’t be public about it then. Your rules left us no choice but secrecy.”

Toto turns his glare on you. “So while I was managing Lewis’ negotiations, you were ... were ...” He seems unable to form the words.

You lift your chin. “Yes, Vati. We’ve been together since mid-2022. I’m sorry we couldn’t be honest about it at the time.”

Toto looks back and forth between you and Lewis, jaw clenched. The whole table is frozen, awaiting the eruption.

Finally Toto thrusts his chair back and begins pacing angrily. “This whole time ... right under my nose! With my star driver, in clear violation of team rules and ethics!”

He rounds on Lewis. “I treated you like family! Supported your career, fought for your contracts. And you betrayed me by sneaking around with my daughter behind my back!”

Lewis faces Toto’s tirade calmly. “I apologize for any perceived deception. But we couldn’t deny our hearts.”

He takes your hand, gazing at you adoringly. Charles clutches your other in solidarity.

Toto drags a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. I thought I knew you, Hamilton.”

Finally you can't stay quiet any longer. “Vati, stop,” you implore. “I know you’re upset, but don’t blame Lewis. We fell in love, simple as that.”

Toto sighs, looking between your determined face and Lewis’ sincerity. His anger slowly deflates.

“Bärchen, you will always be my little girl,” he says gruffly. “I just want to protect you.”

He turns back to Lewis and Charles. “But I can see you both genuinely care for her. That’s all that matters in the end.”

You smile hopefully. “So you’re okay with this?”

Toto holds up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. I am still adjusting to the idea.” He narrows his eyes at Lewis and Charles. “No messing about, you hear me? My girl deserves the utmost love and respect.”

“Of course,” Lewis says seriously as Charles nods in agreement.

“Good. See that it stays that way.” Toto sits back down with a huff. An awkward beat passes before conversation resumes again.

Later, as you all say goodnight, Toto pulls you into a hug. “They really make you happy, hmm?”

You nod, eyes shining. “Beyond words.”

Toto pats your cheek affectionately. “Well then, I suppose that’s what matters.”

You kiss his cheek in gratitude. No matter how overprotective your father can be, you know he just wants you safe and loved. With Lewis and Charles by your side, you always will be.

***

Seven Years Later

The Ferrari garage is buzzing with activity as race day gets underway at the Italian Grand Prix. You stand with Lewis among the controlled chaos, keeping one eye on your enthusiastic children weaving through the mechanics’ legs.

“Be careful, Lou!” You call out as your daring five-year-old Louis takes a corner a little too sharply, his Ferrari cap nearly sliding off his wild wavy hair.

Lewis shakes his head in amusement. “He’s as spirited as his Papa.”

You grin proudly at your son, the spitting image of Charles, as he zooms around mimicking pit stops. Your little three-year-old Helene clings shyly to her daddy’s leg, peering up at the action with wide brown eyes that are the mirror image of Lewis’ own.

Charles emerges from the engineering briefing and makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you into his arms, he greets you with a passionate kiss. After over seven years together, the sparks between you still ignite instantly.

Pulling back, Charles grins at your slightly disheveled state. “Hello to you too,” you laugh breathlessly.

He winks before turning to give Lewis a tender kiss. Your unconventional family drew some skepticism at first, but your extraordinary love has proven unshakeable.

The kids chorus “Papa!” and attack Charles’ legs. Laughing, he scoops them both up, kissing their heads. “Are you ready to cheer for me, my little racers?”

Their enthusiastic cheers draw amused glances from the team. You soak it all in — your little family, together forever.

Charles reluctantly sets the kids down to focus on pre-race prep. You feel a phantom flutter in your belly, though you know it’s still too early for it to be real. Grasping Lewis’ hand, you share a private smile. Baby number three is on the way.

The race begins in a blur of excitement. Charles aces the start, quickly pulling into the lead. Louis abandons all decorum and just starts screaming “Go Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you and Lewis take turns occupying your hyperactive son so as not to distract the crew. Shy little Helene contents herself hugging a Ferrari-themed teddy bear, peering intently at the screens showing her Papa as he speeds around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.

The laps tick by, Charles fending off the competition masterfully. As he crosses the finish line to claim victory on home soil, Louis and Helene are jumping and cheering loudly. The passion for racing already runs strong.

Back out in the paddock after the podium celebration, you and Lewis balance the kids on your hips as reporters head straight for the two of you. The questions are familiar after years in the spotlight.

“Lewis, what’s it like spending almost every weekend at the track despite your retirement five years ago?”

“I love it,” Lewis smiles, bouncing a giggling Helene. “Getting to support my husband and spend time with my family, it’s very fulfilling.”

“And Y/N, how do you manage the kids and your husband’s demanding career?”

You grin. “We make it work. We’re so proud of Charles and feel lucky to be by his side through it all.”

On cue, Helene pipes up “Papa is the best racer!”

The reporters chuckle. One asks, “How do you feel seeing Charles continue to build his legacy with Ferrari?”

“I couldn’t be prouder,” Lewis says, genuine emotion in his eyes. “He’s taken the team to new heights and really made his mark. Seeing him succeed means the world.”

Louis suddenly grabs the mic, yelling “Are we done yet?” You have to stifle your laugh.

“I think that’s our cue to wrap up,” you grin sheepishly, gathering the rambunctious children in your arms. Blowing kisses to the laughing media, you make your exit.

Back in the privacy of the motorhome, your unconventional but beautiful family shares celebratory hugs and kisses. Charles rests his hand gently on your belly, his face lighting up when you confirm the news.

“Baby number three on the way!” Lewis crows, sweeping you into an excited embrace.

Louis and Helene cheer, demanding another sibling immediately. You laugh giddily, leaning into Charles and gazing at the pure joy on your husbands’ faces. Your hearts swell with love.

This life you’ve built together has faced skepticism, but your extraordinary bond conquers all. Gazing into their eyes, you know without a doubt you were destined for each other. Hand in hand, side by side, forevermore.

***

18 Months Later

You finish strapping a squirming Cosette into her car seat, smoothing down her hair that is the spitting image of your own. “There we go, my little princess. Time to go see Opa Toto!”

Cosette babbles happily, waving her chubby fists. At just over a year old, she is the perfect blend of you and Charles, with your lips and nose and his vibrant green eyes.

Louis and Helene are already buckled into the backseat, their patience for the short drive to your father’s house wearing thin. “Hurry up!” Louis cries. “I want to show Opa my new race car!”

“We’re coming, hold your horses,” you laugh, sliding into the passenger seat beside Charles. Lewis is meeting you there after stopping at home to grab a few extra toys and changes of clothes for the kids’ overnight stay.

During the short drive, Charles keeps resting his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing distracting circles. You try your best to keep your breathing even. After all these years together, just the slightest touch from your husbands can still ignite that spark instantly.

You pull up the long driveway to find Lewis’ car already parked outside the stately lakefront home you grew up spending summers in. Before you can even unbuckle, the front door swings open and Toto comes striding out, arms open wide.

“My lieblinge!” He booms as Louis and Helene barrel into his embrace.

You lift Cosette from her carseat and Toto takes her gently, eyes crinkling with delight. “And there’s my littlest liebling,” he coos, nuzzling her soft curls.

Lewis joins you all outside, greeting Toto with a warm hug. “Thanks again for watching the kids tonight, Toto. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course! They’re my grandbabies, it’s my honor,” Toto declares, ushering everyone inside.

Soon the kids are happily playing on the living room floor as you and Susie chat over tea. Lewis joins Toto out on the back patio, no doubt talking about the current state of the team as always. Charles wanders in from the kitchen and comes up behind you, massaging the knots from your shoulders in that way he knows you love. You have to bite back a moan, not wanting to scar your family. Susie just smiles knowingly into her tea cup.

Too soon it’s time to head out for your rare adults-only evening. You pry Louis away from showing Toto his toy car collection and scoop up a sleepy Cosette. Helene hugs you tightly around the legs.

“We’ll be back to get you tomorrow, sweetheart,” you assure her, kissing the top of her head.

Lewis takes his turn hugging the kids while Charles checks his watch. “Reservations are in 30 minutes, we should get going soon.”

You pass a sleepy Cosette to Toto and he cradles her gently. “We’ll hold down the fort, you three go and have an enjoyable evening.” He gives Lewis and Charles a stern look. “But not too enjoyable, hmm? Keep it respectable.”

Lewis just grins as Charles steps up and claps Toto on the back. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll be very respectable. Just having a nice dinner while we discuss when to start working on baby number four.” He winks cheekily at Toto while you and Lewis have to stifle your laughter at the mortified look on your father’s face.

Charles dodges Toto’s half-hearted swat and pulls you and Lewis in close. “Come on, our romantic evening awaits.”

You bid one more goodnight to the kids before letting Charles usher you out the door, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The drive to the restaurant passes enjoyably, laughter and teasing flowing freely. For one night, you have the rare opportunity to just be yourselves, simply three lovers.

At the upscale restaurant, you’re shown to a cozy corner table lit by flickering candles. Charles orders an expensive bottle of wine while you and Lewis peruse the menu. His foot trails slowly up your leg under the tablecloth and you have to resist the urge to jump him then and there. After years together the flames still burn hot, stealing passionate moments whenever you can.

Dinner passes enjoyably, full of laughter and flirty touches. Afterwards you stroll hand-in-hand along the lakefront, the starry sky reflected on the rippling water. Lewis pulls you into a dance right there on the path, the three of you swaying and giggling drunkenly together. Passersby stare but you’re oblivious, caught up in your own private world.

Eventually you make your tipsy way back home, shedding clothes on your way up to the master bedroom. They lay you down reverently in the middle of the expansive bed, hands and mouths immediately reacquainting themselves with every familiar curve and hollow of your body. Soon you’re panting and writhing between them, their dual caresses pushing you rapidly towards euphoria.

“Need you ... both ... now,” you manage to gasp out. Without hesitation Charles is kissing you hungrily while Lewis repositions himself behind you. You cry out as they join your bodies seamlessly, swiftly bringing you to the peak again and again. Their stamina and synchronicity even after all these years together never fails to leave you awestruck.

Much later, sated and pleasantly sore, you rest comfortably sandwiched between your husbands. Their hands caress you languidly as you all come down from your highs together.

“We certainly made the most of our kid-free night,” Lewis chuckles, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.

You hum contentedly. “It was heavenly. But I can’t wait to get our babies back tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Charles agrees, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Our family is everything to me.”

You smile softly at him, heart swelling. “Our lives turned out pretty perfectly, didn’t they?”

Lewis nods, his eyes drifting around the bedroom that over the years has become a shrine to your shared journey — photos of race wins, kids’ drawings, and candid shots of your unlikely love filling every surface.

“Beyond anything I could have dreamed,” he murmurs. “Being with you both, raising our babies together ... it’s more than I ever imagined was possible.”

Charles kisses you tenderly. “We’re so lucky to have this extraordinary love.”

You cling tighter to them, emotion welling in your chest. “Every day I’m grateful we followed our hearts and created this life together.”

They hum contentedly, holding you close between their warm, solid bodies. No more words need be said. After so many years, your souls are intertwined seamlessly by the incredible bonds of your love.

Come what may, you know without a doubt that you were destined for each other. And you would choose this unconventional but beautiful life with them every single time.

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wttcsms · 4 months

Text

i wanna brag about it (i wanna tie the knot) ; choso.

pairing choso x f!reader word count 2.6k synopsis overworked, stressed, and in need of relief, choso comes home to the sight of you looking all pretty and sweet. it's been a long time coming, and tonight is the night where choso finally gives in to his deepest desire: fucking a baby into you. content contains babysitter!au (babysitter!reader), ceo!choso, half-brothers!choso & yuuji, toddler!yuuji, implied age gap, breeding kink, obsessive + possessive!choso, housewife kink, misogynistic ideals, wet n messy, size kink, belly bulge, bro is literally so in love with you and dreams abt starting a family with you

Choso could use a drink right about now.

He’s rummaging through his fridge, more than happy to grab one of the many bottles in the back (he doesn’t want Yuuji accidentally grabbing one by accident — not that it would happen, thanks to your supervision), but he startles away from the fridge when a voice fills the silence of the kitchen.

“Late night?” You tease, giving him that sweet smile of yours that has the stresses from today lifting from his body, easing the weight on his otherwise tense shoulders.

Fuck.

Proof that today was a major shitshow is evident in the fact that Choso has forgotten all about you. Staring at your body clad in nothing more than one of those skimpy cropped-cami-and-boyshorts matching sets you always favor, he finds it hard to believe that he could ever forget about you. The refrigerator light bathes you, envelopes you, casts a warm glow on your soft skin and makes it look like you’re an angel radiating some bright aura. A subtle glance at your entire body allows him a glimpse of two, tiny peaks poking through the thin material of your top. You like keeping the house cold. He swallows hard, finding the willpower to focus on your face.

Not like staring at your face is enough to stop his cock from twitching in his work trousers. In fact, he probably gets even harder looking at you, especially when he can tell you’ve probably just finished your very sacred and meticulous nighttime skincare routine, your face glowing. Seeing you all clean and fresh, savoring the domesticity of you washing your face in the same bathroom he brushes his teeth in, salivating over the way you look standing in his kitchen (it could be yours, too, if you would let him give you everything he wants to) wearing nothing but your pajamas — it all makes his hindbrain want to take over. He’s spent the last fourteen hours stuffed in a boardroom or his office, and your simple existence is enough to soothe his soul and send him spiraling, all at the same time.

Choso could really, really use a drink right about now.

“Sorry, I meant to call to tell you—”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile at him goodnaturedly, like you’re not still in college with much better things to do on a Friday night than wait for him to come home.

He should be thankful that you’re so sweet to him, but just the idea that you did have plans tonight makes a hot coil of jealousy tighten in his stomach.

Choso knows that he shouldn’t be feeling this way; he shouldn’t even notice you as much as he does. It starts out with the little things, first, like making sure his assistant gets your favorite snacks restocked during his usual weekly grocery delivery. He asks you about your schoolwork, and then finds himself filing away people he knows in your major’s industry. It’s good to have connections, he tells you, giving you the number to a good business acquaintance of his who’s looking for an intern in the near future. And of course, he’s hyper aware of the fact that you are a very beautiful girl. Unfairly so, with the curve of your lips and the slope of your nose; every time he sees you, he plays a game with himself. Tries to notice something new about you, a beauty mark, a new haircut. If he had the time, he’d probably try to get an exact count of your eyelashes.

And now, he’s noticing too much of you. The way the fabric of your tiny matching set seems to accentuate every aspect of your body. How he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion. The way you’re staring at him, so innocently, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts that run rampant in his mind every time you have him cornered like this.

Some nights, it’s almost too much to bear.

It’s been a tough day, though. Week. Month. Endless meetings, negotiations that never result in any firm solutions, just more addendums to contracts. He hasn’t seen much of anything besides his office and the boardroom; what’s the point of having an office with a skyline view if he’s too busy staring at spreadsheets and emails to even enjoy it?

Tonight, Choso realizes, is the night where he snaps.

He says your name in such a low register, you almost don’t pick up on it. You’re in the middle of telling him a cute story about what Yuuji did during recess with his pre-k class, but you pause.

Maybe it’s all in your head, but it feels like something in the air has shifted. The way your tummy’s butterflies seem to be in overdrive is only proof of this.

You’re used to the perpetual tension between you and Choso. Filthy rich, successful, always in a nice, tailored suit — looking purely on the outside, who wouldn’t want to get fucked by him? The more time you spend with him, the more time you fill the role of mother over just babysitter for little Yuuji, which gives way to deeper observation of Choso. He works incredibly long hours, but still has time to stay updated on all of Yuuji’s comings and goings, accomplishments and awards. He doesn’t have to; it’s not like he’s obligated. After all, Yuuji is his half-brother, a byproduct of his father’s mistress. He didn’t have to take him in, love him with his entire being, but he does, and this makes you fall for him only more.

Then, there’s the fact of how he makes you feel. Every time his hands will brush gently against yours, innocently and so quickly, you swear you’re being electrified. The way he says your name, the way he tells you anything, in that low voice of his is enough to get you squeezing your thighs together. But most of all, it’s the way he looks at you. At first, you thought it was because of your crush, but the longer you work for him, the more you realize that Choso will occasionally stare at you when he thinks you won’t notice.

But how could you not? How could you not detect the feel of his dark eyes scanning your figure, taking in your features? How could you not detect the way his eyes will darken over in lust when he watches you lick sweet cream off your fingers from an explosive can of whipped cream? How could you not catch the barest trace of a smile as he watches you interact with Yuuji at a park, willing to get your hands dirty to appease the toddler while Choso watches over the two of you from his seat on the bench?

How could you not fall deeper and deeper into his spell when the threads of lust continue to spool, tightening over your body, practically choking you with desire.

You don’t even realize how big Choso is until he’s standing so close to you, towering over you. So much bigger than you to the point where if you look straight ahead, all you can see is the rise and fall of his chest through his white button down (the one you ironed for him this morning).

His hands curl into fists, like he’s restraining himself. “Tell me now,” he breathes out, words coming out tight, like speaking to you civilly is proving to be a strenuous task for him. “Tell me that I shouldn’t fuck you tonight. That I can’t.”

Is he joking, or are you dreaming? You’re hyper aware of your breathing now, of the way you reflexively lick your lips, of the way your nipples are pressed taut against the thin, cotton fabric of your cami. You’re also way too aware of him, with the lustful expression in his eyes that give way to something more, as if this request of his means something more. Most men his age and in his powerful position have a wife or a girlfriend by now. As long as you’ve known him, Choso hasn’t been with anybody.

The stress, the agitation, that annoying, persistent feeling of constantly being pent up — all of it has been building up inside of him. Whoever is going to be on the receiving end of it will be lucky if they’re able to walk the morning after.

“But you can.” You say softly, almost scared that this is some elaborate trick, a means to see if his brother’s babysitter is to be trusted. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

There’s something animalistic in the way he takes you. When he kisses you, it’s hungry. Open-mouthed. Sloppy. It would be invasive if you weren’t so eager to let him, to allow his tongue to hit the roof of your mouth, to swap saliva in the messiest manner possible.

But there’s something gentle there, too. The way his hands cup your face, or travel to rest on your waist. He’s sweet, taking his time to help you slip out of your pajamas, and sweeter still — he lets out an appreciative hum as he takes in the sight of you bare, naked in the kitchen. Fuck a drink, Choso thinks as he takes in your nude body. You’re the only stress relief he needs.

He whispers the nastiest things to you as he gets you to sit on the kitchen island. He asks you to please spread your legs so he can see that pretty pussy of yours, and when you comply, he takes in a sharp breath before running a single, cold finger against your wet folds. He makes a crude, appreciative comment, asking you are you really this wet, baby? All of this because of me? For me?

You can’t answer him, of course. Talking is hard when he’s using two fingers to fuck you open, get you ready to take his cock. He’s knuckles deep, and when he curls his fingers right there, the only thing you’re capable of saying is a squeal of his name. Your juices are pooling into a puddle on the counter, the same counter where you served him breakfast so many hours ago.

He loves watching you. Choso could watch you every second for the rest of his life and still never get his fill of you. He only catches you during particularly chaste moments, moments where you’re humming in the kitchen or playing with Yuuji. He loves those scenes; it feeds the archaic, masculine ego inside of him that tells him he needs to make life easier for you. That you shouldn’t have to worry about school or work, about money or other frivolous things he has an abundance of. He wants to take care of you.

Seeing the way you lose control of yourself from the work of his own hand has him getting unbearably hard in his work slacks. He loves watching you, and he knows he’s going to love watching you get all depraved and drunk on his cock.

When Choso first tries to ease just the tip in, you have to curl your fingers over the edge of the counter, trying to steel yourself. With how wet and willing you are, it should be an easy enough task, but it’s made difficult by the fact that he’s just too thick.

Tip red and angry, leaking with pre, wide — just the sight of Choso’s cock is enough to get you even wetter, more pliant for him, but even the first stretch still has you hissing.

“S’okay, baby.” He groans, one hand on your waist, trying to steady you, keep you still so he can keep on pushing himself deeper. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You certainly don’t feel like you’re doing much of anything. It’s hard, when you can’t stop your walls from clamping down on his cock, making it harder for him to move or even think. When he fully enters you, your mind is already too dizzy with pleasure to think straight. You think he says something, but you’re not sure what, and you try to focus on his words, you really do, but then he starts thrusting, and you think it’s powerful enough to tilt the axis of the earth.

Oh, so this is what sex is supposed to feel like. He redefines everything you thought you knew about it. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, the way the slickness and heat of your pussy seems to keep motivating him to go harder, the way if you look down, you can spot a tiny bulge every time he hits as deep as he can go — all of this combined marks the height of pleasure for you.

“You’re so perfect.” He grunts out, relishing in the way you tighten up at his words. Your eyes are a bit glazed, almost like you’re struggling to focus on what’s in front of you. He doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, there’s pride settling inside his gut as he realizes that he’s the one fucking all the sense out of you. “Let’s do this every night, baby. Do you like the sound of that? Of being my stress relief?”

He knows that you’re too far gone, too deep in the haze of pleasure, to process his words, to answer him.

“I wanna fuck you forever, baby. Make you my pretty, little wife and have you waitin’ at home for me. How does that sound?”

He assumes when your pussy tightens up that that’s a yes.

His hand finds your own, and he interlinks your fingers together. He might be fucking you all messy on the kitchen counter, but he still holds an overwhelming amount of affection for you. Of course he would want to hold your hand.

He traces your ring finger, feels the familiar sensation of his release building up. So close, he thinks to himself. He’s so close to getting everything he wants.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum right. In. Your. Fucking. Pussy.” Each word is emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, and this — him saying that — is what your sex-addled mind registers. You’re vaguely aware that this could be a bad idea, but you’re too addicted to chasing after your high that you don’t put a stop to it. “Gonna give you a baby.”

“Please.” You moan out, the word coming out ragged and strained. Speaking is difficult, so so difficult. He’s happy to hear your beautiful voice, nonetheless.

“Atta girl. I knew you would understand.”

As if confirming to him that the two of you are meant to be, you both cum at the same time. You feel weightless and drowsy, too out of it to even process how sloppy and wet the mess in between your legs is right now. If Choso pulls out, his cum and your juices would make the counter even more slippery.

But Choso doesn’t pull out. His cock stays nestled in your wet heat, and he admires your fucked out form. You look a bit different from the fresh and clean girl who greeted him when he came home, but that’s okay. He loves you for you, every iteration you have to offer. He’ll carry you to the bedroom, where he can fuck you nicely, sweetly. Maybe he’ll try his hardest to not go too hard when he has you in a mating press. And after getting his fill of you, after the stresses of work disappear from his mind completely, then he’ll take you to the bathroom and get you all nice and clean.

He’ll even be a gentleman, showcase what a great husband he’ll be, by letting you sleep in while he cooks the family breakfast.

#choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #one shot #drabble #smut #jjk smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk fanfiction

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the-offside-rule · 2 months

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Carlos Sainz Jr (Scuderia Ferrari) - Un Poco Secreto

Requested: yes

Prompts: 39) "Like what you see?"

40) "Ah, ah, ah, no touching."

41) "Do that thing I like."

Warnings: smut, age gap, overstimulation, fighting over being a dom, alonso!daughter x Carlos Sainz

Y/n gasped as she felt her back hit the door, before Carlos pounced and their lips connected once again. Carlos grunted in disapproval as he reached for the door handle of his Hotel room, trying his best not to break the kiss he had with Y/n. He could feel her smile against his lips. "Having trouble?" She challenged. "Shut...up." He replied simply, making her laugh. "What? I'm just saying what I see." Carlos looked back at her. "Do you want to go back to your room?" He asked. Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "Fine, I'll-" She went to walk past him before Carlos finally opened his door and brought her with him. "We are never going to your room, your room is always beside your father or someone else we know." He said before his lips attacked her neck. She hummed in response. "You're literally right next to Charles."

"That's not the same." He whispered, pushing her towards the bed and taking off his shirt. "And you don't think the team will be suspicious of you going missing?" She asked, her brow arched as Carlos flung his Ferrari shirt to the side and focusing on the buckle of his belt. "I don't give a fuck what they think." He replied, finally getting around the buckle and pulling his trousers down. "Now, let's get to the matter of business." He tugged at the sides of her shorts. "Why the shorts today?" Y/n chuckled as she watched him fiddle with the zipper. "I thought they looked good on me." She replied simply. "And you know, I agree. But keep these for our 'outings' in Monaco." He said, pulling them down and throwing them right next to his shirt.

"Did they drive you that crazy?" She asked as he loomed over her. "Princesa, I drove past the pit wall just to get a look at you, nevermind what I was thinking of doing to you in them." His lips trailed down her toned torso, leaving gentle kisses as he did. Y/n shivered with the feeling, looking down through hooded eyes and seeing the spaniard biting her lace panties and pulling at them. She giggled, running her fingers through his hair. "Show me what you want to do to me." Carlos' lips left a wet trail of hungry kisses all over her, even leaving traces of lilac bruises in a few spots where no one would see them, but in the event someone would, they would know she belonged to him; his own personal stamp.

"As much as I'm enjoying this-" She paused, rolling the pair over and pushing him down into the mattress. "I'd much prefer if I was on top this time." Carlos' brows knotted in confusion. "Why? Do you think I don't do a good enough job?" He asked. "No, I just think I could do better." Grinning, Carlos relaxed into the bed, his hands resting behind his head, watching closely as Y/N straddled him and sat comfortably on his hips. She slowly pulled off her shirt, revealing a matching bra. His lips parted as he took a breath in. "Like what you see?" She asked, running her fingers up his abs. His fingers ran up her thighs until his hands had a firm grip of her ass. She tapped his hands away. "Ah, ah, ah, no touching, Carlitos." She purred. Carlos smirked as he watched her tower over him. "I think you're in for a very long night." Carlos chuckled. "Is that a promise?" He shivered at that question. "I swear." He replied.

Y/n lined herself up with Carlos' cock, teasing by making him wait much longer than he would ever have to. "Please, amor. Just let me feel you." She smiled at his pathetic pleads and gave him what he desired. Her head fell bad in ecstacy as she slid down, trying her best to take him all as best she could. "You need to relax, you don't don't have all of it yet." A wild grin appeared on her face. "Egotistical much?" She was quickly shut up by Carlos raising his hips slightly and pushing in just a bit more. She bit her lip to muffle her moan yet she failed miserably. "You're sounding like you're enjoying this too much." He grimaced as his hands slowly traced lines on the skin of her thigh again. She groaned in annoyance, grabbing his hands and pulling them up over his head, pinning them to the headboard. He looked at her, an element of surprise on his face. "Don't be so impatient." Her hips moved agonisingly slow as she watched how Carlos' mouth fell open. "Eso se siente bien." He groaned, his head falling back into the pillow, showing his delicious jawline. "Me has enseñado bien." She whispered, kissing his throat and continuing on. "You're going to be the death of me, amor."

As she rode him she felt herself coming closer to her high and Carlos could feel it. Her walls tightened around him and her grip on his wrists became tighter as her mind focused on her orgasm. "Lo estás haciendo muy bien, amor. Sigue adelante." Although they were both Spanish, something did it for him speaking to her in Spanish. She felt herself crumbling as his words helped to cloud her mind before she finally reached her high, riding it out and her grip loosening. Once she stopped, she looked down at Carlos, a small and innocent smile on her lips. The smile soon left her face as she saw him look at her like a lion looks at its prey. "My turn." Before she could say another word, Carlos was on top, the long pieces of his hair dangling down near Y/n's forehead. He slid in, earning a moan from Y/n. She gripped his shoulders as he began at a relentless pace, making her overstimulated. She struggled to make any sounds, the noise stuck in her throat. "I can't hear you princesa." He whispered in her ear as he dropped to his forearms, his thrusts going deeper. Almost like he gave her permission, the sinful sounds came from her lips. "Fuck, Carlos." She said, her voice strained. She felt his grin against the skin on the crook of her neck.

Suddenly, Carlos felt a sharp sensation on his shoulder. He winced and raised his head, seeing Y/n pull away. "What are you-"

"Oh what? So you get to mark me but I can't leave my mark on you?" Carlos chuckled, pulling out. Y/n looked at his, desperation for her to orgasm a second time in her eyes. "He lay on his back again and grabbed her hand, lowering it down to his cock. "I want to watch you do it." He rasped. Y/n bit her lip, once again sitting up once again and straddling him. Her hips rocked back and fourth. She lowered herself down so her head would rest on his chest. Her lips explored his chest, bruises being staining his skin like watercolour stains a blank canvas. "Fuck." He mumbled. He could feel himself getting closer. He gripped her hips and began with his sloppy thrusts. Y/n's hands roamed his body. "Hold the headboard." He instructed, getting annoyed with the wandering hands. She reached up and held the headboard as it banged against the wall, undoubtedly chipping the wall. She felt a hand reach up and grab one of her tits, squeezing and playing with them as if it were a toy, but she liked it. She felt herself coming to a second orgasm sooner than she expected, but she wasn't complaining.

As the pair rode out their orgasms, their panting and the smell of sex filled the room. Y/n had climbed off Carlos and lay beside him, a comfortable silence surrounding them. Carlos, tracing circles on Y/n's hand, suddenly looked deep into her eyes. She knotted her brows. "What?" She asked. "I can't believe how incredibly lucky I am to have you in my life." She laughs, slapping his bare chest as if he was joking and trying to be cliche, but when her eyes went back to his, they held the most sincerest look she had ever seen. "You make me feel like me." He paused. "You're my everything." Y/n smiled, playing with Carlos's hair. "You're my everything too, Carlos, but-"

He groaned knowing where this was going. "Not again." He mumbled, turning to lay on his back. "Carlos." She started. "We have to tell him. He will kill me if we don't." She said. "He will kill me if we do!" He retorted. "Carlos, we have to tell my dad. I have to tell my dad." Carlos looked as her chin rested on his chest. He couldn't help but feel so terribly bad. "He is going to kill us." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her. "Maybe, but I want to actually come to you without having to be so secretive." He had to admit, the whole secret thing was getting ridiculous. Even the simplest thing like liking one another's posts can and would be investigated by fans; it's what they did. "Can I think about what I'm going to say? I don't think he's going to appreciate me going out with his daughter who is ten years younger than me."

"Nine and a half years younger." She corrected. "Like that changes it." He rolled his eyes. "Carlos, if we don't tell him I'm not going to be with you. We have kept this secret for almost a year now and I would like to actually go out with you outside the paddock." Carlos sighed and looked between her eyes. He couldn't say no to her. "Okay, I'm not sure when we will but we will." He lifted her hand to rest on his chest. "As long as my heart beats, it's yours and since it's yours, it will do what you ask." Y/n smiled. "Will it let me bring you to the shower?"

"As tempting as that sounds, I have to head back to the paddock to get some work done." Carlos replied, kissing her. "But we can tomorrow morning." She nodded as she got up out of bed and headed to the bathroom whilst Carlos got up and collected his clothes, promptly dressing himself. "Jesus fucking christ." Carlos muttered, looking at his bare chest in the mirror. "My finest work yet." Y/n smiled, wrapping her arms around him and pecking his shoulder. He hummed, a tone of unamusement lingering. "At least its less noticeable than-" He paused, turning to Y/n in her towel. "Than whatever the fuck I have done to you." He was of course referring to the many bruises left on her collarbone and all down her torso. "I can't even wear my nice dress to dinner with my dad now." She uttered, faking her sadness. "If it's any consolation, mi amor, Fernando thinks that dress will prompt the single and younger drivers to make a move on you and he doesn't want that." His arms wrapped around her waist, resting on her lower back. "He has nothing to worry about. I have my old and not-so-single driver right here." She joked. "They could never do what I do." Y/n arched a brow. "You don't think Oscar would-"

"Get out before you make me even more late!"

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 5 months

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DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Dry Humping w/ Spencer Reid

a/n: HEY HEY HEY!! So I am fully aware that Spencer was a child during college so this is an alternative universe where he's of the college age 💀 This is basically season one Spencer cause I wanna eat him.

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You didn't like how the other girls in the circle were looking at him. Their lustful eyes eating up a very nervous Spencer, the man playing with his fingers anxiously.

It was obvious that he wasn't used to being in places like this; where everyone was drunk, high or both, couples and randoms making out and practically fucking in every dark corner of the room. You never thought that you'd see The Spencer Reid, your college campus' genius, sitting in a spin the bottle circle in a random frat house.

You had no idea who convinced the poor boy that doing this was a good idea, but you would be damned if any other one of these girls were to get their hands on him. You liked him first — not just liked him — you claimed him. Everyone in your group knew that you liked him, so the fact that they had the fucking gall to look at him that way knowing you were there pissed you off.

"Alright, everybody!" A random bro shouted from on top of one of the dining room tables. "We were going to play Spin The Bottle, but I figured it'd be better if we play Seven Minutes in Heaven, seeing as though we have a special guest here with us tonight."

You knew exactly who he was talking about, and as your eyes lifted to look at Spencer, his gaze was already settled on you, but once he saw you were looking at him, he looked away bashfully. His face flushed a pretty red and so did his ears, and you could practically see the blood threatening to spill from his cuticles as he picked at them.

Your eyes narrowed at the jock angrily, every part of your body yelling at you to tend to Spencer.

But you swallowed it down.

A large group of people gathered around, and then the first spin of the night began. People were gleefully coming and going from the closet, a few of the couples manipulating the bottle so that it landed on them.

"Oh, shit!" One of the frat bros called out loudly. You looked curiously to see all eyes locked on you and Spencer, the tip pointing at you and the end pointing at him.

You must admit, you were a bit… known… around school. You wouldn't say you were popular, now that was a bit childish, but you definitely had connections in a couple different places.

The poor man looked almost frantic, looking at you then looking back down, almost as if saying you didn't have to. Oh, but you did.

"Seven minutes, pretty boy. C'mon." You said as you got up. His eyes were as big as saucers, his mouth gaping akin to like a fish would. You straightened your tight dress, reaching out a well manicured hand.

"If you want this to be over sooner then get up." You whispered sternly. He scrambled to interlock your fingers, and you lead him to the closet that was already significantly hot from the amount of bodies that had been in there already.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to." You reassured. "No, no… I-I want to, it's just…" He babbled, wringing his hands. "It's just what?" You pushed, stepping closer to him. He gulped, backing up slightly and knocking into the shelves behind him.

"I just don't know how." He didn't know how to make you feel good, how to pleasure you. He was embarrassed to admit to the girl that he liked, who was also totally out of his league, that he was a virgin.

"Why did you come here, then?" You questioned with a slight smirk. "Because… because you were here and I wanted to uh- maybe- I don't know-" You cupped his face, stroking his cheeks.

"Kiss me then, Spence."

"Wh- what?!" He stuttered.

"I said," You spoke, your lips brushing against his, "Kiss me." He gulped, looking down at your lips back up to your eyes, then back down to your lips again.

"Okay." He breathed.

He leaned forward, albeit hesitantly, and pressed your lips together. It started out slow, but with a lot of coaxing from you, he got comfortable. Your lips moved in tandem as the room heated up. You had no idea what had come over you when you placed both of his hands on your ass.

"Touch me." You breathed heavily. Your breasts pressed tauntingly into his chest, his cock hardening embarrassingly fast. "Are you sure?" You nodded. "Please."

He tested the waters with a light squeeze before shoving your hips together. His body stuttered as a loud whine fell from his mouth. You could feel his bulge against your plush body and Spencer wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.

"Sorry, sorry." His apologies were frantic, but your nerves burned with need. "I'm fine with you grinding on me, baby." You reassured. "In fact, I like it." Normally, you wouldn't say you carried a dominating energy with you, but it was like you wanted to swallow the poor boy whole.

"Oh, God." He whimpered, but nonetheless joined your lips back together. You slipped your plush thigh through his legs, pressing it on his cock.

His hips jutted out, and you swallowed his cry. His grips on your ass turned deathly as he humped your leg like a bitch in heat.

"That feel good?" You cooed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

He nodded fastly, his lips pressed together and his eyes closed. He was lost in the feeling of the friction, perspiration beading on his hairline. You practially eat the sight of his deep red face up.

"You're mine. Alright, pretty boy?" You asked ferociously. You wrentched his head back, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin of his neck. He nodded. "Say it." He yelped when you nipped at his adams apple.

"I'm yours, fuck- all yours!"

Your stomach twisted with a pleasant warm feeling, which only increased rapidly which you felt his thrusts grow sloppy.

"You gonna cum, honey?" You asked through your marking. "Yes, yes, yes…" He babbled. "Good. Cum all over me." He let out one last loud moan before you felt the warmth of spend seep out and onto the hem of your dress.

There was a knock on the door.

"Okay, lovebirds. Time's up!"

You smirked at the fact that Spencer was shaking like a leaf in your hold.

"After this, we are so going to my dorm." You claimed. "Yes! Yeah, yeah… yes, please." He all but shouted.

#♡ ― nsfmeau !#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day twenty eight #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #spencer fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid kinktober #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid smut #smut #fanfiction

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reiderwriter · 6 months

Text

Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died.

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you.

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me."

"Sir, with all due respect -"

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly.

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss."

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly.

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies.

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes.

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?"

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds."

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss.

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct.

–X–

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle.

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off.

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too.

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either."

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you.

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims."

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims."

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table.

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in.

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you.

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer."

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you.

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be.

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement.

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then.

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more.

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid.

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee.

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him.

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand.

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position.

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed.

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence.

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks.

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky.

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of.

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.”

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well.

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.”

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back.

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.”

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station.

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman.

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back.

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss.

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you.

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now.

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers.

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path.

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk.

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer.

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book.

"Yes, get this bitch off of me."

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made.

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become.

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently?

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-"

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?"

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up.

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks.

After making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads.

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together.

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice."

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same.

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here."

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass.

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand."

You straightened in your chair, listening closer.

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you.

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure.

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved."

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone.

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered.

"What?"

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty."

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in.

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking.

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences.

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp."

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body.

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear.

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin.

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations.

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch."

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest.

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X–

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation.

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile.

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day.

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services.

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team.

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over."

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow.

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar.

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar.

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly.

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead.

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you.

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner.

Surely enough you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van.

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks.

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially.

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you.

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again.

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you.

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up.

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching.

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat."

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly.

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left.

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck.

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin.

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now?

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears.

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss.

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out."

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man.

"What do you want us to do?"

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?"

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood.

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were.

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking.

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside."

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull.

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it.

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking.

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied.

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more."

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him.

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel.

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants.

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him.

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway.

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom.

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth.

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl."

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand.

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off."

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits.

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

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jarofstyles · 8 months

Text

Letting Loose

Another installment of best friend’s dadrry!!

Now.... Listen. It's filth. Straight up, but their dynamic is building so you can see some stuff starting... hehe. PLEASEEEE let us know if you want more of them. xoxo

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access!

Part 3

Reminder that Y/N is an adult and met him as one too <3

warnings- smut, choking, spit play (sorta), daddy kink, age gap, degradation, name calling, mention of ex, jealousrry, forbidden/taboo relationship, breeding kink xoxo

----

Y/N knew what she was doing.

She was taunting him. Teasing him. Making him mad. Harry was a possessive man, and both of them knew it. He had declared her body as his multiple times, now becoming every time they had sex. And ever since Lia had gotten a girlfriend, she had been out of the house a lot more- which meant that Y/N had been in the house without the risk of her friend catching her on her knees for her father.

Harry was a generous man in all capacities. He had let her stay when her apartment flooded, had always provided food and paid for her when they all went out, left money out for them to order pizza, even paying for their trip to Cancun after graduation. But it seemed his generosity knew no bounds when it came to Y/N, unfiltered.

His hands snuck underneath his shirt, mouth connecting to her bruised neck as she finished applying her nightly skincare. Lia had gone on a ‘mountain retreat’ with her girlfriend last night and wasn’t due home for another 4 days, which Harry was taking full and complete advantage of.

With an empty house, having Y/N there felt a bit like a different universe. Harry had been indulging in his touches, grabbing at her and pulling her into his lap, swimming with her in the pool, holding her to his chest while she made breakfast. He was borderline clingy, but he knew that’s how he was when he liked someone. Attached at the hip.

When he got his divorce, he had strayed far away from this sort of thing. He had his one night stands but ultimately had decided to lay off if anything romantic since his marriage had ended up being a disaster. Lia had been the one good thing to come out of it- and he knew he was playing a dangerous game, sleeping with her best friend, but it was more than that.

That was something else that scared him. This girl, this sweet woman who had come into his life in such a way that should make him take 10 steps back, had him closer to her than ever. Closer than he had allowed himself to be with anyone else. She was just… refreshing. Invigorating. Their conversations had been enjoyable pre-sex, her mind always impressing him with the things that came out of her mouth- but now that he got to see her with almost no boundaries? His admiration for the woman had increased tenfold.

Just laying in bed talking, bringing up moral questions and things that she believed, their fingers lazily linked together as she talked with her hands and moved them about- it was one of the things he loved the most. Then there were moments like the current one, where he hadn’t given her a moment alone in the bathroom.

“H, please.” She hummed, taking the peach face toner and placing it down. “You’re making me spill.” His mouth on her neck had distracted her from the task at hand, shakily applying the toner to a cotton round as she tried to finish her routine before moisturizer. It was a very strict and thorough one.

“M’sorry.” He sighed, pulling away from her neck but making no motion fo take his hands out under her shirt. Her skin was warm and silky, stomach clenching as his hands sprawled out over it. “Just… gets to me when I see my marks on you.” He rested his cheek against hers, looking at their reflection in the mirror.

While it was apparent that he was older than her, they looked.. good. He had been surprised the first time he saw it, how she had melted into his grip and blinked into the reflection with a nod. It didn’t look like a father and daughter- thank fucking god- but it looked like they were a good looking couple. One that people would perhaps understand the gap considering they were both good looking and Harry wasn’t an old bag quite yet. He did have some graying at the temples, but Y/N had let him know how much she liked the idea of him being a ‘silver Fox’.

“I know.” She peeped, looking at them in the mirror. A dark mark resided on the curve of her jaw, the other hidden under the skirt and on her thighs. “Can’t be so careless when Lia gets back, though. Unless you want me to make up a whole story about some guy I’m seeing again. We both know how much Daddy doesn’t like that.” Her tone was teasing, a faux pout taunting him about the subject.

So, maybe, possibly, he had fucked her within an inch of her life the last time she had used that excuse. That she had blamed it on one of those stupid boys she met at the bars and said they’d gone out and done the deed in the car when in reality, the origin of the marks had been from a few days prior when she had been at Harry’s office riding him on his couch. Risky, all things considered.

His jaw set as he pulled his hands out from her top, turning her around so he could look into her eyes. “None of that. You don’t have to get so… detailed in those stories either.” He huffed. “We both know that none of those boys could give you half of what Daddy gives you. None of the orgasms, none of the pretty gifts, none of the sweetness. So I don’t want t’hear about these fake hookups.”

Y/N liked this. When he got huffy and possessive, when he got the fiery glare and clenched jaw. She loved to taunt him and make him show her just how much he hated it. “No? Those boys can’t give me what Daddy can?” Her fingers trailed over his chest, tapping over his necklace. “That’s what your appeal is, isn’t it? Being a real man. Giving me all the things they haven’t gotten the experience to do. Even if it makes you a dirty old man to show me, you will.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth, fully expecting the next move.

Harry grabbed her hips and hauled her up to sit on the sink top before tangling his hand in her hair. “Watch it.” His warning made her shiver slightly, head tilted back by the firm grip he had in her hair. “Just hours ago you were on your knees begging for this ‘dirty old man’s cock down your throat.”

Y/N keened, a giggle leaving her throat as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled him closer, legs spreading so he could stand in between them. She loved to rile him up, to watch the flame burn inside of him. Getting his possessive reaction, this jealousy fueled her. She wouldn’t go off and do anything with anyone else- there was no desire or reason to. Harry had fully satisfied her every need. It was just nice to feel desired. To see him bristle at the thought of anyone else touching her because he wanted her all to himself. “I did. And I enjoyed every second of it.” Her voice was still slightly hoarse from the act. “Don’t need to get so jealous. You know I will end up with you. M’just covering for all the marks you’re giving me.”

“Don’t like thinking about it. Y’go out and reject all of them, I know you do. But the idea of it irritates me.” He exhaled, feeling her slightly damp fingers brush under his own shirt. Her head tilted back, her face bare from any makeup and glowing from the rigorous skincare routine she had just performed and pouted slightly up at him. “Don’t give me that lip, Petal.” His thumb caught it, tugging it down slightly before it snapped back into place. “Just like it when you remember that you’re Daddy’s girl, is all.”

The softened tone made her stomach dance, leaning into his hand with a content sigh. He took such good care of her. Y/N knew that she was playing a risky game but this sort of shit was worth it. “I am. M’your girl.” She peeked up at him with her own hazy eyes, letting her fingers catch on the waistband of his shorts. “Are you going to show me that I’m yours?” Dipping them in, she felt the prickle of his hair. Neatly cropped, trimmed to perfection, he kept just enough that made her mouth water. Enough to tickle her nose when she was able to get him down all the way.

“I’m going to make sure you remember for days, sweet girl.”

—-----

The sound of skin slapping filled the warmly lit bedroom. His bedroom was a sanctuary, somewhere off limits for anyone besides him- and much to anyone else’s surprise if they knew, Y/N. Soft, warm light emanated from a vintage lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle glow on the room while Harry looked down at the girl sprawled out underneath him, clutching the white sheets he had spent a stupid amount of money on. He only wanted the best for her and her body. Knowing she would be staying the whole week, sleeping with him the whole week, he had made arrangements to have the best of the best. To show her what was possible.

“There you go, baby. Just like that.” The depth of his voice made her shiver under him. Her cheek was pressed to his pillow, knees up and back arched as Harry took her from behind. It was the second round, her body deliciously sensitive but aching for more. Aching to please him and make him let loose on her body. A large, warm hand held her waist as he guided her back on to his cock, watching as she fucked herself on him. Pressing back into him and filling herself up, letting her ass hit his hips and ripple and move just the way he liked it.

“S’good?” She mewled, eyes hazy as she stared vacantly across the bedroom. “You like when I do this? Just want t’be a good girl for you, Daddy. Want you to feel good.” Her voice was wrecked, slurred as she had her cheek smushed against the softness of the icy white pillowcase. Her mouth watered, sure to drip in a little bit, but all the girl could do was take it. Sex had never been this good with anyone else in her life. The older man knew exactly what he was doing and how to do it.

Harry had always been such a patient, calm, controlled man since she had met him. Never raised a voice, never did a single thing inappropriately. He had played all the right cards, but since she had seen him again and everything had changed between them, she could see another part of him. A part she was desperate to help let loose.

The older man had a wildness, a depth to him that was unexplored. A taboo part of his desires that he had never allowed himself to look at. Y/N could see it, could feel it unraveling with each day she spent with him. She made him feel safe but invigorated, which was exactly what she wanted to do. This was something so wrong in theory, but it felt so right. There was no way his hand fit that perfectly on her waist for no reason. She had taunted and tugged at the seams keeping his deepest, darkest desires hidden, trying to unravel them for him. To fulfill the pieces he didn’t know had been missing.

“I do, baby. You are a good girl, my good little girl. Make me feel so fucking good. Never get enough of you, always want you with me. Want to be inside of you every single fucking day.” The man knew that if he had his own way, she would be the one he woke up to every morning and the one he went to sleep with at night. This entire week of playing house had woken up a bigger urge, a primal urge for the girl. An ownership. He was greedy and selfish, but he was loving every fucking second of it.

“You can. You can fuck me however you want, do whatever you want to me. Anything in the world. I just want to make Daddy happy.” Her voice was whiny, face rubbing against the pillow he slept with as he watched her ass recoil with each throw back of her cunt. His cock was glistening with her arousal, wet and slick from her past orgasm. She was going to have bruises on her hips, on her thighs, on her breasts from his handling of her. There would be no denying the fact that she had been fucked deep and thorough, that he had spent time and effort into making her writhe underneath him. “I’m your girl. You said it, I’m all yours to do whatever you want. Be dirty with me, Daddy. Let go. Fuck me how you want.”

Harry didn’t know how else he could want her. This much was a fantasy come alive. The sweet, tight cunt clenching over his cock was heavenly enough. Her encouragement didn’t stop, though.

“Know you're holding back from me. Tell me how much you love it. You love fucking tight, young pussy? You like the change from soulless sex with your ex wife who could barely get you half hard?” Her giggle was cut short by a harsh slap to her ass, the sting making to fall into a moan. “Mm, fuck. I love that. You do, don’t you? Know that it’s risky but you like being inside of me. M’the best pussy you’ve ever had. Admit it.” Y/N’s panting words had him clenching his jaw- mostly because she was right.

He had gone from subpar, emotionless sex to this. To an exciting, adventurous, dirty woman who he most definitely shouldn’t be sleeping with but was too addicting to the heart and to his cock. A woman he liked too much to call a friend with benefits, but was too risky to publicly announce as his girlfriend- even if he desperately wanted to.

The words had a thread snapping, his body crowding hers as he pressed his chest against her back as his cock continued the deeper thrusts, knocking her thighs together a bit more as he covered her body with his own. His hand fell flat against her pillow, a deep chuckle leaving his lips- one that sent a dangerous zing up her spine.

She had done it.

“You are. You’ve got the best cunt I’ve ever fucked, the best mouth I’ve ever fucked, and as soon as you let me in that pretty little ass? That will be mine, too. Most useful set of holes that’s ever walked through my door.” His rough tone had her moaning, success spreading through her body as his opposite hand that wasn’t keeping him up slipped under the pillow to grab her throat. “Been so nice to you when you just antagonize me. You want me to be really dirty, baby? My sweetheart wants to hear what really goes on in my mind every time I see her?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please, Sir. Please. I want to know everything.” She was showing her hand, showing exactly how badly she wanted to know what went on in his head. “Tell me. Tell me, I wanna do it all for you.” Y/N would love it if he was a little mean, if he was a little more rough. She knew he treated her delicately because of who she was but that was exactly why she wanted him to lose it. “Treat me like your holes, Daddy.”

Harry had been slightly shocked at the words, though he shouldn't have been. Y/N had always shown that she was a dirty girl, but the depth of it was still to be discovered. It obviously went past a bit of exhibitionism.

“My sweet girl wants to be treated like a set of holes?” He laughed breathily. “Fuck. What am I going to do with you. Silly, silly girl.” He tightened the grip on the sides of her throat, feeling her squeeze around him. His thrusts increased in speed, weight bearing down on her to make her feel him everywhere. He wanted her to be engulfed in him.

“Every time you walk in that fucking door, I want to drag you away. Want you hanging off my cock every time I get the urge, because I know you’d love it. Been dirty since day fucking one, dragging me into that poolhouse and making me be a bad father. S’that what gets you off? Fucking your friend’s dad?” He snarled, breathing against her ear as his balls slapped against her cunt, getting them just as wet as he wanted.

“Y-yes, Just you, Daddy. Only ever you.” Her weak reply came out, hand covering his that held her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he gave it to her good, a new level to their activities unlocked. She had peeled back another layer of the man.

“Better have fucking been. But I know you’re a slut. Just for me. S’only ever been just for me. Just like you said, hm? Needed an older man to give it to you and then you got addicted. Poor little girl. Addicted to the one cock you shouldn’t crave.” His faux sadness made her whine, slickness dripping out of her cunt. The sharp thrusts and his tight grip, how she could barely move was one of the best things she had ever experienced.

“It’s mine.” Was what escaped her. The little thing had enough energy to say that, the stimulation to her body and the slap of his balls against her clit driving her dangerously close to her second orgasm of the night.

“Is it? Oh, silly little girl. What a desperate, selfish slut. You want my cock to be all yours?” He grinned against her skin, biting against her neck as he groaned. “It can be. You can have it. Drain me so fucking good, take all my cum so well, hm? S’what you deserve. Be a little set of holes for Daddy to stuff his cum into. You’re so good at it a-already. Fuck.” He hissed as he felt her cunt contracting, close to her orgasm. He could feel it, feel how close he had gotten her.

“You’re going to cum from that? God, look at you. Thought you were such a nice girl when my daughter first brought you home. Now you’re just a pretty cunt for me to cum inside. Think m’gonna keep you, though.” His prick was so wet it almost slipped out as his hips slammed into her, her quivering cunt urging him on. “Think I should make you stay. Should get my cum nice and deep and knock you up. What d’you think?” His grunted words sent her into a squirm, nodding reverently against his hand.

“Yeah- yeah, I’d want it. Can do it, keep me.” She babbled, eyes watering as she felt completely and utterly pathetic. The larger man was giving it to her just how she needed, the lightheadedness of his fingers rhythmically squeezing her neck and his dick fucking her better than any other thing she had felt having her right on the edge.

“Yeah? Gonna take my cum and give me a baby?” He laughed, drunk on pleasure. “That’s it. M’gonna do it. Drain my cum into your pussy and mark you as mine. Let it catch, let you get full of my baby and let everyone fuckin’ know who’s girl you are. F-Fuck, baby.. Please.” He grit out, mouth opening as he felt it. He could feel her falling over the edge, a broken moan escaping her swollen lips as he body squirmed underneath his own.

She gushed around his cock, whimpering out his name as the words and his actions had her falling over the crest. The slick, filthy sound of her drippy cunt being pounded by his cock and the grunts coming from the man above her filled the room as she could feel him finally starting to crack. His arm quivered, cock twitching in her pulsating pussy as he finally unloaded inside of her.

“Oh- oh my god, fuck.” He slurred out against her shoulder, biting down and getting a squeal from her as he growled against her skin. The most feral he’d ever been. His thrusts slowed but didn’t completely stop, Harry hellbent on fucking his cum as well into her as he could. He wanted her filled. Releasing the skin with his teeth, his tongue ran over the bite mark in apology, a grove of whispers growing from his lips.

“There we go. That’s my fucking girl.”

“Took me so good.”

“Wrecking me, m’so obsessed with you.”

“So proud of you.”

“Take such good care of me, sweet girl.”

They were followed with kisses, Harry lazily turning her head and connecting their mouths despite the odd angle as he finally stopped, letting himself stay buried inside of her. He could feel she had drooled a little bit, fueling his ego as he let them both cal down from the aftershocks of their orgasms.

“Mmm.. That’s what I’m talking about.” Y/N giggled tiredly, resting her cheek back against the pillow as he stroked the sweaty hair away from her face. “Told you I wanted you to let loose, that’s what I wanted. My god.” It was so good, she felt drunk. Drunk on good dick, apparnetly.

“Yeah.. well now you’re in trouble.” He mumbled, though the smile on his face indicated it wasn’t seriousl. “Didn’t know I had that in me… But now that I do, you’re the one who’s going to have t’deal with it.” He kissed her cheek, smirking to himself about how it had been so good she had let tears fall. This was a new high for him.

“I better be. We established that I’m yours and you’re mine. If I find out otherwise, m’gonna chop your dick off.”

Harry winced, shaking his head quickly. “No, baby. No. Don’t think I could get hard for anyone else at this point.” It was too true.

This girl had him completely and utterly fucked.

“Let me sit here for a minute and then I’ll take us to clean up. I’ll help you redo all your skin stuff.” He nuzzled against her cheek, placing a few little pecks on the hot skin. “Sorry I ruined it.”

“Trust me- I am never going to be mad at you for that when you fuck me that good.” Y/N snickered. Her heart did swell at the offer though. This man was unreal. “I’d be a fool to complain.”

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iloveavatar · 1 year

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A mothers instinct (pt. 2!)

neteyam x fem!reader

if you were to ask neytiri how she felt about the na’vi named y/n. she would gladly go on and on about her.

she saw y/n as one of her own.

she also saw how neteyam looked at y/n. even how y/n looked at neteyam.

watching the two of them grow up into beautifully grown adults was bittersweet for neytiri.

bitter, due to the fact they’re no longer little na’vi that like to look for animals in the forest. however sweet, because she got to witness the two fall for each other obliviously.

the two were around the age where they would be finding mates. they both completed their rituals to become adults…all except finding their other half.

noticing this, neytiri decided to play…oh what was it called… a…a matchmaker! she decided she would send the two to go find something at the Tree of Voices.

when she asked the pair to find this special “root” of a plant that only so happens to grow near the tree, they gladly accepted.

“of course we can help! i’ve been wanting to see the Tree of Voices for a while now!” y/n happily said with a giant grin on her face.

neteyam studied y/n’s smile for a second, almost as if it caused him to go into a daze. “sure yeah yeah we can go to the tree” he mumbled, still staring at y/n.

neytiri smirked. “alright then go! take your time trying to find it. it’s rare” she stated with a smile as she strutted away.

“come on neteyam! first one there gets bragging rights!” shouted y/n as she started to sprint.

“wha-hey! that’s not fair you cheated!” screamed neteyam while snapping out of his daze and trying to catch up to her.

the entire way to the Tree of Voices you could hear the laughter coming from the duo.

y/n eventually won.

only because neteyam wanted to see her smile longer… and because he happened to think she looked cute whenever she was proud of something she did.

“i won! who’s the mighty warrior now!” y/n laughed.

neteyam watched her strut around the tree as if she was accepting a prize with a fond smile on his face.

“alright you won! now come on, we need to find this root for my mother” stated neteyam as he was admiring the tree.

“oh come onnn, why can’t we admire the beauty eywa presents to us neteyam? i mean, just look how beautiful it is here!” she said while spinning around.

neteyam however wasn’t focused on the beuaty of the tree. “yeah…beautiful” he mumbled in a daze as he watched the glow from the tree reflect onto y/n’s skin, giving her this ethereal glow.

the two walked around the tree “looking” for the root of the tree that neytiri needed.

“hey neteyam? do you ever think we’ll find our mates?” y/n questioned with a slight frown.

“hm? what makes you ask that?” neteyam wonders.

“well…it’s just that i know your mom and dad mated here… before eywa. do you think she could tell us who we’re destined to be with?” y/n asked while reaching for her queue behind her.

“i think you’re right. we should check…but i have a pretty good idea of who i want to end up with” he mumbled with his freckles glowing slightly.

they both took their queues and let the pink tendrils connect with the glowing stem of the tree. the two then closed their eyes to accept the vision.

y/n noticed she was still in the forest. the first thing she heard was laughter, but not any laughter. a child laughing. y/n walked toward the sound and saw the back of a male na’vi.

she noticed the na’vi was tickling the child that was sitting in his arms. she slowly stepped around and got a proper look at his face.

it was neteyam.

neteyam noticed her standing there and looked up, away from the child.

“hello my love. you’re back early? did something go wrong with your hunt?” he questioned nervously.

“uh- no! no everything is ok!” y/n stuttered out while looking at him in shock.

she couldn’t believe that eywa was showing her the future. her future with neteyam.

she slowly squatted down next to neteyam and the small little girl that was previously laughing in his arms.

the little girl seemed to notice her there when her ears perked up and a small glint appeared in her eyes. “mommy! you back!!” she lightly screamed as she stumbled into y/n’s arms.

she was no older than 3 years old. she had the looks of y/n, but one could easily tell she was just like neteyam.

you could also easily see that she was a daddy’s girl.

“hi baby.” whispered y/n, still in shock that she and neteyam have a future together. plus a whole child.

neteyam looked at them with a find smile on his face.

the vision slowly faded away as y/n was brought back into the present where she was still at the Tree if Voices with neteyam next to her.

she turned her head to see if neteyam was still in his vision.

however once she turned around she saw that he disconnecting his queue with a giant smile on his face.

he turned his head to make eye-contact with her.

the two of them made eye contact for a while. then they both rushed towards each other to embrace the other in a passionate hug.

the hug spoke the words they were scared to speak.

“…did you see it too?” neteyam hesitantly asked her whike tightening his grip on her.

“yes. i saw us. with a beautiful baby girl.” y/n spoke breathlessly. she had slight tears in her eyes knowing she had a future with her long time friend, soon to be husband.

“wait you only saw one daughter? i saw our two daughters and a son!” neteyam spoke with wide eyes.

the two of them pulled away from the hug with their jaws dropped.

“we need to speak to your mother.”

“we need to speak to my mother.”

the two spoke at the same time.

neteyam then grabbed y/n’s hand and started the trip back to their home.

the two spent the rest of the walk smiling and laughing, knowing that they would end up to together.

they then started to try and guess what they would name their children.

neytiri saw the two walk into her tent with giant smiles on their faces, their hands linked together, and their tails swishing in glee.

“i take it you didn’t find the root?” she smugly asked.

the two made eyecontact with her and saw her smirk. they dropped their jaws in disbelief.

“there was no root to find was there!” y/n stated in awe.

neytiri just laughed.

the two teens then started to laugh along with her.

neteyam was speechless. his mother knew they would end up together.

curse those damn mother instincts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

there’s part two!! hopefully everyone likes this🤞

please send in more requests or comments abt what i should write next!

love you guys

~S!

#avatar #the way of water #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #neteyam #iloveavatar #neteyam fluff

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mariofyuu · 3 months

Text

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥

[𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐗 𝐅𝐞��!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲]

"In a world where I could lose you at any moment, I want to make tonight count. So please, give all of yourself to me. For I love you purely. My mind, my body, my soul. All of it belongs to you."

✰Rating: NSFW 18+ MDNI

✰Summary: It's Valentines Day, and your long term boyfriend Yuta Okkotsu would like to take you out on the best date of your life. Just what sort of surprises could he have in store for you?

✰W/C: 5.2k

✰C/W: Oral(Fem! Receiving), Hotel Sex, Teasing, Flower Language, Marriage Proposal, Mostly fluff with a small bit of smut + hurt/comfort at the end

✰A/N: Happy Valentines Day!!! Yuta is aged up to be in his early to mid 20's, sometime after High School. Now do enjoy Yuta being an absolute love sick fool of a boyfriend. Read the 'extra notes' at the end for flower meanings.

"That was so good~" you sighed, sinking into the passenger seat of the car your boyfriend had rented for the night.

In pure honesty, you didn't even know he could drive until earlier that evening. When he'd covered your eyes with both of his hands, your ears tingling at the sounds of his tiny giggles as he led you outside your shared apartment.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

The phrase was said in the same gentle voice that you'd fallen for all those years ago when you were still a teenager. That same soft tone.

Your now unobstructed gaze fell onto him holding a bouquet of Red Tulips laced with Baby's Breath, a keychain dangling from his fingers. He handed the flowers to you sheepishly. Even after all this time of being together, Yuta's humble attitude never seemed to wane. He could buy you the world and still make a face that pleads, 'You deserve more'.

"I thought these would be more to your liking than red roses," he started to speak, reaching a delicate finger to trace along the petals of one of the vibrant flowers. "They have a similar meaning though." Tired eyes closed as a smile came to his features. Cheeks still dusted pink, he went to cup yours in his free hand. He'd done his research early into your relationship. What you liked, what you loved; even learning flower language for occasions like this. He spared no expense when it came to gifting you.

"They're perfect" came your response in the form of a hum, head tilting down to breathe in the pleasing aroma of the flowers. Only when you raised your face did you see the car parked behind him.

You had mentioned it about six months ago, how you'd love to go on long drives with him instead of using public transport.

"Sure, it's convenient enough.." You mumbled while you washed that night's dishes. "But imagine all the fun we could have if one of us owned a car! We could go out whenever we want, wherever we want. Like to the ocean!"

It was well known amongst all of your peers that you were rather spontaneous. Always groaning at the fact you had to ask permission before leaving campus. Even now that you were far more mature and grown, you still had that streak in you. Yuta, of course, adored it. Something that had intimidated him during your friendship had become refreshing as the years rolled by. Nothing was ever boring with you.

He followed the trail of your eyes behind him to the fancy looking vehicle. His hand went to the back of his neck as you squealed.

"You remembered!!!" Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Possibly from how wide you were smiling, or maybe it was excitement. But either way, your reaction was all the man needed to know he'd done his job.

"It's rented, but I figured it'd be fun?" He cocked his head to the side and you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "It will be so. Fun." You emphasized your words with an exaggerated pause, and like the gentleman that he is, Yuta opened the passenger door for you to slide into the car.

The ride to your favorite restaurant was relaxing. Your fingers tapped at your phone screen to connect to the car’s bluetooth. Familiar music filled the small space as Yuta drove smoothly, causing you to smirk.

“How long have you even had your license for?” The question was playful but your boyfriend took it seriously, blinking a few times to think before replying.

“I got it right after my 18th birthday, Gojo said it would be useful in case I have more missions overseas.” He said while tapping his index finger on the steering wheel to the beat of one of the both of your favorite songs. “He actually gifted me a car that year too, but I returned it. How was I supposed to accept a present like that?”

The two of you laughed together at your teacher’s shenanigans. Though at times you wished Yuta to be a bit more selfish, you couldn’t deny this part of him was charming. You could vividly imagine him panicking at such an expensive gift, waving his hands and stuttering just like he would when you’d first met. The memory made warmth fill your chest as you watched him from your spot in the passenger seat.

During your first few months of knowing Yuta, the last thing you would’ve expected was for him to end up as your boyfriend of 5 years. He was timid and jumpy, but showed so much will to survive that it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Maybe it’d started back then. The feeling in your stomach that slowly grew with time and eventually made its way to your heart. It was difficult to pinpoint when you’d fallen in love with him, but he spoke of it like it was the most grand realization.

“I woke up after Ieiri-san healed me from a difficult mission, and you were asleep sitting up, face down on the clinic bed by my legs.” He’d explained after confessing to you.

“I knew the moment you opened your eyes that I was in love with you.” He spoke that sentence without a single stutter. “I’ve.. probably felt this way for a long time before that though.” He smiled oh so gently, and then you knew you were a goner. Instantaneously, you felt yourself melt, and since that moment you’ve been his. In mind, body, and soul you became Yuta’s. Even the slightest touch now lingered, every breath he took became precious, and whatever words left his lips gained meaning. That sort of unbreakable connection; the bond that kept you up at night with both worry and excitement, made even the most hellish of missions bearable.

Because he’d be waiting for you afterwards.

The sound of his voice brought you back from your reminiscing, a smooth and clear chime you’d never grow tired of.

“We’re here, leave the flowers in the back and I’ll help you out.” With a click he pulled the keys from the ignition and got up from the front seat to open your door again for you. Hooking your arm in his, you laid your head on his shoulder for a moment. The familiar scent of his cologne on his shirt’s collar caused your skin to tingle as you walked arm in arm into the restaurant.

Once the two of you were seated you ran your hand across the velvety surface of the table cloth. Taking a moment to look down at the promise ring that decorated your left ring finger. Yuta’s gaze followed and a small smile came to his lips.

“I’ll give you an even better one someday soon, promise.” He mused before bringing your hand to his mouth to place a kiss upon your fingers.

“Womanizer~” You chided, earning a pout from him until you both started to giggle.

Your dinner was spent chatting about mundane things, mixed in with laughter and gazes that stuck for a bit too long. Yuta’s eyes always looked a tad tired. Even if you’d make him go to bed early, or bribe him into taking a nap with you, the dark circles that lined his lower lashes never diminished. Dark blue irises that occasionally almost showed black peered up at you while you ate your dish. Taking note of every tiny reaction with a sense of gratitude. How lucky he was to share moments like these with you. How blessed he was to be the man who had the honor of pampering you.

Teasing your boyfriend has been one of your favorite pastimes since high school. While thoughts of adoration and admiration filled his mind, yours was clouded with ideas on how to get him going during your dinner date. It was only fair. After all, your love was mutual. If he made your heart beat so fast with one upwards glance, then it was only right for you to give him the same treatment.

As the hour passed it was now time for dessert. Yuta wasn’t picky with food as long as it had a pleasing texture. Only learning to cook after the two of you moved in together so he could make your favorite meals. However you’d gotten him to take a liking to sweets by baking for him so often. He swears he’d have gained weight if it wasn’t for how physically demanding his work is.

So when the chocolate cake you ordered arrived, there were two slices instead of the usual one. Your eyes light up, because this was your shot. Full karmic payback.

Once the plates were set in front of the both of you, and Yuta had lifted his fork to take his first bite, you suddenly pulled the dish away with an innocent smile.

“I let you plan today completely on your own, so it’s my turn to spoil you a little in return.” You said sweetly, knowing there was no way he’d refuse. Yuta merely looked around the restaurant with a flushed face.

“Do you mean-” Cutting off his words, you lifted a forkful of cake up in front of his face and gestured for him to open his mouth.

“Just once? Please please please?” You dragged your words out to plead to him, his shoulders straightening at the sound of your voice before he let out a long sigh.

“Fine.. Just once” As he opened his mouth, you rejoiced in silent victory. His eyes closed, not having the gall to look at you during such an embarrassing exchange. It’d have been fine if you asked him to feed you, but this was.. Something he was not used to.

Sliding the dessert into his mouth you pulled the fork from his lips, watching intently as he chewed awkwardly. Satisfied with your payback, you licked the rest of the frosting from the back of the fork. The unintentionally erotic action earning an audible gulp from Yuta before you handed the utensil back to him.

He coughs a few times and reaches for his napkin, wiping the corners of his lips to get rid of the leftover chocolate. “Wasn’t so bad was it?” You said with a tilt of your head and a close eyed smile.

Now back in the car with your arms stretched upwards after humming your praise to the chef, you looked over to Yuta who adjusted his seatbelt a few times before checking yours as well.

“You don’t have to check me, you know” You sighed as he tugged at the belt, giving a satisfied hum after ensuring your safety. “I heard Utahime-Sensei say that improper car etiquette is just as dangerous as curses once though.” He mumbled through knitted brows. “I’m sure she just made that up..” And with that you began your drive home, or so you assumed.

After going past your apartment complex, you raised your eyebrows.

“Yuta, you missed our turn,” You began to say before he turned his head. Deep sea colored eyes that threatened to sink you met your own as he gave you a smile. “I know, just trust me” He spoke softly, reaching his right hand to grip your knee reassuringly.

And with a nod, you did. Watching as the city lights faded into the background of stars, Yuta rolled the windows down to let in the fresh nighttime air. You breathed in deeply and a familiar scent tickled your nose.

“The ocean..!” Your voice rose from the comfortable silence, eyes wide as you turned to stick your head out the window. And there it was, moonlight dancing off the top of the waves. “You seriously..” Swinging your head back around to look at him smiling stupidly, all you could do was laugh as you fully realized just how much this man loves you.

Your toes sunk into the cold sand after you tossed your dress shoes off to the side, your legs moving quickly to carry you to where the water kissed the land. Yuta followed after you, throwing his jacket onto the hood of the car to join you in dipping your toes into the cold winter water.

“It’s freezing!” You shivered and he laughed in response. “Of course it is, it’s February.”

Taking your hand in his, he walked with you along the shoreline. Thanking whatever God that’s out there for the weather being clear. The sea breeze blew his usually well kept raven hair to the side, offering a view you often only saw in the mornings. He was stunning.

Your body couldn’t seem to contain your affection, twisting to suddenly throw your arms over his shoulders and press your face into the side of his neck. “Thank you..” You mumbled the tiny phrase against his skin as he brought his hand to the small of your back.

“Anything for you.. If it was possible I’d find a way to gift you the sea” He spoke into your hair, breathing you in before reluctantly setting you down. “But there is something else I want to give you.”

He moved behind you, turning you to brush your hair away from your face, gently taking a swathe from both sides of your head. “I have more for you at home but I wanted to give this to you here..” Yuta clipped the two strands of your hair behind your head with a white bow, the sheer fabric decorated with pearls and lace.

“It fits you perfectly,” He hummed, pulling the dainty ribbon up by the end so you could see it from the corner of your eye. You weren’t able to speak. The red on your face must’ve been visible even in the moonlit lighting, because Yuta let out a chuckle while he ran his fingers through your hair.

The sound of his laughter sent electricity through you, forcing you to spin on your heel to face him. Your fists balled and you took a large breath in before shouting.

“Marry me!”

Shoulders raised to their highest point, gaze pinned directly onto him, you repeated your question that came out more as a demand.

“I don’t have a ring yet, and I know I’m not the one who is supposed to ask but..” Your eyes started to overflow, mimicking the movement of the seawater. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Yuta, please marry me!”

All he could do was open and close his mouth a few times. Eyes wide and watery just like yours. And then he reached into his pocket to pull out a small box.

“You beat me to it..” He laughed out through his tears. Opening the tiny box in his hand to reveal an elegant engagement ring. Slowly, he sunk down onto one knee and lifted it to you.

“I was so nervous.. I wanted to find the perfect timing but of course..” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his words stuttering. “Of course you’d ask before me”

“It’s only fair,” You sobbed out between giggles and sniffles. Reaching your hand down towards him so he could place his promise upon your finger, sliding the other ring you'd worn for the better of 4 years into his pocket. “You always go above and beyond.. I want to give it all back to you in return”

Your words weren’t helping his tears, his other knee giving out below him to fully kneel in front of you. “You don’t have to do anything, just stay by my side. I’ll give my everything to you.” Yuta pressed your knuckles to his lips to plant a kiss on each one. “My body, my mind, and my soul are yours. So I accept, let’s get married.”

With his declaration he stood, cupping both of your cheeks in shivering hands. He leaned down to kiss the side of your face, the corner of your eyes, the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips. It was soft, gentle, and passionate. It was Yuta.

“I’ll make tonight the best of your life, I swear to it” he muttered against your lips, his eyes looking at you with a sense of determination you’d only seen a couple of times.

The first was during the night parade of a hundred demons. The second was when you wished him luck before he left to train with Miguel. And the third was your first time. You felt your heartbeat quicken at record speed as he began to pull you back towards the car. Your pace lagged behind his, Yuta’s usual gentleness replaced with overwhelming desire as he swung you over his shoulder.

“W-Wait, Yuta!?” You squirmed around a bit to no avail, tilting down his back as he bent to pick up your shoes and his jacket that’d blown to the sand from the breeze. “Where are we going?? Don’t we have to go home?”

“I rented a hotel, it’s taken care of. Maki will get the mail for us in the morning” He spoke like he’d recited this conversation a million times in his own head. Placing you in your seat and buckling you in nicely. “Trust me.”

It was the same thing he’d told you before taking you here, but this time it was spoken with such an underlying tone of lust that it made you feel dizzy. The entire drive to the hotel was spent with your hand covering your mouth to stifle any noises while Yuta drew tight circles with his finger against your thigh.

“It’s beautiful..” You whispered, taking in the hotel room your now fiance had booked for the two of you. He put the flowers he’d bought you into a vase before setting down a bag he’d secretly packed and stowed in the back of the car.

“You really did plan everything out to perfection didn’t you?” He raised his head at your comment, giving you a shy smile. “This room was actually my second choice, the other one was fully booked” He sighed, unpacking a few items that you couldn’t see over the broadness of his shoulders.

“Hmm.. I’ll take a bath” Deciding it would be best to clean up while he was occupied, you began to walk towards the bathroom until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Wait..” His voice sounded small. “Let’s bathe together..”

There were moments when Yuta acted like his younger self, shy and unsure. The majority of those instances being with you. If you were upset with him, if he had to leave for a particularly long mission, if you were to take control in the bedroom. Or when he had a very specific want that he wasn’t 100% sure you’d like to fulfill. This time, it was bathing together.

“Ehhh? But shouldn’t we both get completely clean first?” You replied, trying to ignore the heat that began to pool between your thighs.

“I won’t try anything yet, I promise. I just don’t want to be apart from you” Yuta rested his chin on your shoulder, his words sincere enough to make you give in. You gave him the go ahead to run a warm bath, your hands going to start the long process that would be undressing yourself.

“Let me help with that too!” He called from the bathroom over the sound of running water, making you stifle a laugh. “Fine~”

You made your way to the tub, stopping beside Yuta who was kneeling in front of it to check the water temperature. “There, now stand still okay?” He told you with a smile, making away quickly with the distance between you.

Standing behind you, he slowly unzipped the back of your dress. The sound of the zipper making the tips of your ears turn red. One of his favorite parts about being intimate with you was the build up. You knew this very well. He’d take hours undressing you if you were patient enough. But he knew now wasn’t the time for that.

Letting you step out of the fabric that now pooled onto the bathroom tile, he reached his hand to undo the back of your bra in one swift motion. An impressive talent he’d acquired after years of experience with you. He placed the garment on the counter before moving on to the bow in your hair.

This was a new sensation, his fingers raking through your locks as he undid the bowl. You could hear his breath hitch, and immediately you knew it was going to be hard to hold back before getting out of the bath. A tiny giggle exited your lips, your hair now free from the confines of his gift.

“Ahh, it’s not fair..” Yuta groaned, tossing the ribbon to the side as he slid his hands down your body to find your panties. “Why do you have to be so..” Fingers hooking around the elastic of the waistband, he pulled them down your legs. “Enticing..?”

Now it was your turn to tremble. His words never failed to make a fire like pleasure burn deep within your core. A throbbing that only he could bring to your surface, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. It was possible that he did. He fought every urge within him to get back on the floor and worship your right then and there. Taking in a deep breath from between his teeth, he pulled his hands from your body and began to undress himself while you started to wet your hair.

You sat on the tiny stool in front of the shower head, humming the tune you’d listened to together earlier that night in the car.

“Stuck in your head?” He asked you, pulling up another seat from behind you as he started to aid in washing your hair. Nimble fingers massaging your scalp gently to lather you in suds before rinsing. “Mhm, it’s a good song after all”

Your voice shook at the end of your sentence, Yuta’s fingertips grazing along your spine and then back up to the nape of your neck. “Keep your word, Okkotsu” It was a stern warning. He let out a sigh in response, picking up a sponge to wash your back. “Thought I’d try my luck anyways”

It wasn’t long before the both of you were properly washed and submerged in the warmth of the bath water. Your head leaning back against his chest as you sat between his legs. The both of you were pressed quite tightly together, causing Yuta to let out a small whine at any movement. “I’m sorry..” He muttered when you shot him a look when he couldn’t help but grind into you. “It’s just.. A tight squeeze..”

“That’s why I told you to wait” You flicked his forehead softly which made him flinch. A tiny ping of guilt caused you to press a kiss to the spot, your hand running through his damp hair. “Shall we get out now?”

You swear to God you’ve never seen Yuta Okkotsu move faster in the entirety of the 6 years you’ve known him.

One of the benefits to dating someone as powerful as Yuta was his ability to learn and adapt quickly. He could easily memorize every movement, sound, and reaction he could elicit from you. The way you liked to be kissed, the places you enjoyed to be touched, and the manner of which you wanted him to please you all had their own separate dedicated category in his mind.

And it seemed he was using every last bit of it tonight as he pressed his naked form against yours. Hands gripping the sides of your hips while he moved his lips on your own. Tiny whimpers of his name leaving your mouth in between breaths, the feeling of complete and utter need within you was so strong that it made your eyes water.

“Please..” You breathed out against his kiss-swollen lips, “Touch me..”

“I’ve been wanting to since you pulled off that erotic stunt at dinner.” He groaned into your jaw before he kissed his way down your neck. The mention of your ‘revenge’ scheme caused you to flush from chest to ears, squirming as he planted his lips to your heartbeat.

Yuta’s hands came up from your hips to cup both of your breasts, gripping them firmly before rolling them in his palm. “I seriously can’t ever get enough of this” He sighed, taking his left hand away to replace it with his mouth. His tongue rolled against your freshly cleaned skin almost desperately. Flicking against your now hardened nipple with practiced expertise. He squeezed the other between his middle and forefinger to earn a high pitched moan from you. Your thighs pressed and rubbed together underneath him, head tilting back to serenade him in more of your praise.

“Ahhh.. Yuta.. Don’t stop, please? I love you.. I love you” You repeated those three words until your mind couldn’t string them together anymore. Hips rolling up to meet his abdomen with needy whines. His self restraint was crumbling with every mention of his name, gaze clouded over with an innate need to please you.

“I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay?” He raised his head to ask you for permission to go further, in which you quickly nodded. A smirk played across his lips as he kissed further down until you could feel his still slightly damp hair tickling your thighs.

“Fuck.. You’re so so beautiful, my love..” It was not often that Yuta cursed. The soothing tone of his voice mixed with the eroticism of his words made your hips twitch. “Every part of you.” He traced his finger up and down your damp slit, whining at the way you dripped and shivered under his touch.

Finally letting go of his last bit of self control, he dipped his head between your thighs to take a long lick from the bottom to the top of your pussy. Your all too familiar taste causing him to involuntarily moan against you. Immediately your hand reached down to curl your fingers in his dark hair, your hips moving to feel more of him.

He could tell that you weren’t in the mood to be teased tonight. And he wasn’t either. Here, and now, with your bare body and soul laid out before him, he wanted to bring you to the best peak you’d have yet to experience. Yuta pressed his face against you like a man who’d been starved, his nose bumping your clit as he slid his tongue to lap up and down your folds.

You wondered which one of you was making more noise. Your loud moaning or his lewd sounds of slurping mixed in with soft words of praise between moans? It was impossible to fully understand what he was saying verbally, but you could feel every bit of it. His fingers going to hold you open, wet muscle flicking softly against your clit before he took the sensitive pearl between his lips to gently suck on it.

“A-Ahh-! Wait, Yuta!” You squealed out, hips lifting off the bed to grind against his face while he rubbed his tongue against your most sensitive spot. The coil of pleasure in your lower stomach only seemed to tighten further as he looked up at you with half lidded eyes, groaning against your skin as if begging you to use him.

“Why are you, ahh~ so good at that?” You questioned with no reply, instead feeling the vibration of a chuckle on your cunt before he resumed his task of messily tonguing your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut as you steadily felt yourself grow closer and closer to finish. Yuta swirled his tongue around inside of you before flicking it back out again to repeat the same motion on your clit. The action caused your thighs to shake, your head falling back on the pillow again as your hands tightened further in his hair.

“Here..?” He mumbled to himself, tilting his jaw to press the flat of his tongue against your clit to press down on it before giving you more soft kitten licks. Of course, all of his assumptions were proved correct. Your thighs pressed tightly to his cheeks, the sticky sounds from you juices coating his chin only getting louder as you whined and whimpered.

He took his hands to wrap around your thighs, holding you tightly against his tongue. “Look at me,” he said your name at the end of his command. Your head snapping forward instinctively. “Let it out, it’s okay” You almost finished right then and there, cursing him silently as you were unable to form any coherent words at the moment. To say such a thing, while doing such a thing, and holding eye contact. No one had guts like him.

“Make a mess of me, I’m yours.” And with that final sentence, and a hard suck to your clit you came undone under Yuta like you never had before. You felt your entire body tense before relaxing all at once as you spilled into his mouth and down his chin. Your thighs shook violently, the only sounds you could make were of his name mixed with breathy moans. Throbbing between his lips, he suckled on you gently to coax you through your orgasm, his hips moving into the bed in time with your movements. He swears he’s covered in pre.

Finally Yuta lets go of you with a pop from his lips, lapping up the remainder of your juices from your thighs in an attempt to clean you. He raises his head from between your legs to give you his classic shy smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then proceeding to lick his fingers clean. “Was that okay?” He asked sheepishly, and all you could do was whimper in response.

“I swear to God, I’m going to get back at you for that tomorrow morning..” You mumbled out with your head laying on his chest, both of your body’s much too exhausted to continue any further for tonight. “You make it sound as though I did something wrong” He laughed, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“You’ve grown so much.” A sudden wave of sentimentality washed over you as you brushed his hair away from his face with your fingers. “You’re speaking as if I’m a child” Yuta closed his eyes to lean into your touch, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm. “But you have too. We both have.”

The two of you laid in the soft comfort of the hotel bed, speaking of the future in a way you were both too timid to approach before. Words of a new home, a possible switch in professions, new pets, a happy life. “I really never imagined a day where I’d have this.” He said quietly, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of deep thought.

“I’m actually going to get married..” The sentence left his lips before his eyes went to a ring that didn’t belong to either of you, sitting on the living space table. “She’d be happy for you.”

Your voice came to him with words he needed more than oxygen itself.

“You’re right.” He whispered, a smile coming to his face as a few tears dripped down his cheek. “She would.”

Red Tulips: Passion, love, and lust (yes, he was intentionally slick with this LMAO)

Extra Notes: The meaning of the flowers written about are;

Baby's Breath: Sincerity, hope, and new beginnings (It is often used in wedding bouquets!)

#jjk x you #jjk okkotsu #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuta okkotsu smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #happy valentine's day #reader insert #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #happy valentines #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu smut #okkotsu yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x you #jjk smut

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revehae · 3 months

Text

do you like it, dr. lee?

pairing ↠ haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, age gap (18+)

summary ↠ haechan, jaemin, and jeno are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically.

wc ↠ 5.4k

a/n ↠ part 2/5 of the college-capades series! connected to sexcapade.

don’t like it, don’t read.

it all happened so fast.

one minute, you were chatting with three of your most wonderful students in your office, and the very next, they had you sprawled out on top of your desk.

your heart was speeding. though you attempted to wrestle your way out of their less than gentle embraces, you couldn’t even take one of them, let alone all three. while somebody was keeping your hands still, another was holding you by the legs.

jeno, who had his palm flat over your mouth, only watching your moist, fearfully wide eyes, leaned into your ear and whispered, “scream and we’ll saw your tongue off.”

when he dropped his palm, you sucked in a breath, face tensing with tears as you willed yourself to be compliant. your head was spinning, dizzy with shock. what was happening to you was unfathomable. these boys were some of your favorite students, the ones who never failed to perform magnificently on the exams, and were sparkling in class.

you felt betrayed, in a way. even your worst-performing student wouldn’t stoop this low, and in the midst of your fright, you wondered what you had done to deserve the atrocity that was today. if there was anybody that you could count on to make you feel as if your dedication to this job wasn’t completely useless, it was these boys.

haechan was standing just shy of you, eyes fixed to that knee-length skirt he loved watching you wear. jeno chuckled when he noticed where his friend’s gaze had fallen, because he found himself glancing there too, but usually when you were facing away from your students.

he always thought about getting you naked, seeing your ass without anything to hinder his view. more often than not, jeno fisted himself to the thought of stuffing your ass full of his thick cock, wondering if anybody had ever fucked you there.

snapping out of his imagination, haechan approached you, shoving your long skirt closer to your hips. instinctively, the first thing you did was try to protect yourself, but jaemin grabbed you and ceased all control. you slumped, whimpering defeatedly, “boys, please stop. you know that i have a husband.”

haechan snickered, amused that that was the card you chose to play. “didn’t really look like you cared about your husband when you were fucking my dad,” he retorted.

rather than beat even quicker, it felt as if your heart stilled. “what?”

jeno laughed boisterously. “would you look at that. she thinks you don’t know.”

“that’s right, baby,” haechan replied menacingly, nothing affectionate about his tone, in spite of the pet name. “you run your mouth and we’ll make sure the whole school knows that you can’t stop spreading your legs for my father.”

donning the sweetest tone, jaemin crooned in your ear, “and you wouldn’t want that, right, sweetheart? you wouldn’t want mr. lee to know that his wife isn’t satisfied with just his cock, is she now?”

it felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet. haechan was johnny’s son, the offspring of the man you had been hooking up with behind your husband’s back, and now he and his friends were threatening to expose your affair if you refused to let them have their way with you.

your lips were trembling. this is all your fault, you chided to yourself. if you could’ve just been a faithful wife, a committed woman, none of this would be happening. they would have nothing against you, nothing that would stop you from reporting to the closest figure of authority. but you had too much at stake.

though you were no stranger to jeno’s short patience, you had never seen it manifest quite like this before, gripping your hair so roughly you whimpered in a blend of pain and shock. he growled, “he asked you a question. i shouldn’t have to tell you that that called for an answer.”

“no,” you replied shakily.

jeno’s grip only tightened and he pressed, “no, what?”

“no, i don’t want him to know…,” you trailed, because it was humiliating to repeat back aloud, but jeno was still gazing at you expectantly. “that i’m not satisfied with just his cock.”

“see, that wasn’t so hard. don’t be a little bitch and make things more complicated than they have to be,” jeno said, releasing his hold on your hair. you would’ve fallen back had not jaemin been there to catch you, only to then grab the little buttons on your blouse. “we’re doing you a favor, really. it’s a three for one deal. a little whore like you should be excited.”

but you didn’t want them, you didn’t even want your husband. you wanted johnny. it made you wonder how they knew of the affair, because haechan seemed oblivious only a couple of weeks ago. he referred to you as some fucking nurse johnny had flirted with, not his molecular biology professor.

for fuck’s sake, you were a solid decade older than them. granted, johnny was at least a decade older than you, though there was a discernible difference between the age gap between the two of you and the gap between you and your undergraduate students.

your button-up blouse finally came undone and jaemin didn’t waste a breath before he snatched off your bra, eager to suck your breasts into his mouth. you gasped out when he did, his tongue darting around your nipples. in the same way, haechan yanked your panties off, cupping between your legs without a second thought.

never in your life had you felt more defenseless, powerless. stripped of all autonomy and forced to let other people have their wicked ways with you. you felt nothing short of violated and it made you sick to your stomach, gut tossing and churning with reproach.

through your stinging eyes, blurry with hot tears, you watched haechan sink to his knees in front of your desk. you weren’t particularly enthusiastic about how exposed you were, your breasts out and your skirt bunched just above your thighs. it felt like the closest thing to walking around the plaza half-naked.

obviously, you felt more watched than you would’ve had it just been one of them, but you were at the mercy of three guys that were paying a godawful amount of attention to your bare figure. jaemin was fixed to your perky chest and jeno was watching haechan situate himself between your legs, holding them open for his friend in case you wanted to be defiant.

“haechan, i don’t want this,” you whined, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“that’s too bad, baby.” haechan wasn’t even looking at you, gaze locked on your pussy, like that was what you were reduced to. “don’t worry, it’ll feel good.”

you sucked in another gasp when his mouth angled towards your pussy without affording you a notice in advance, your body’s natural instinct being to shut your legs, but jeno was still holding them in place and he was infinitely stronger than you. with the vigorous training that it took to be a member of the campus’ athletic teams, it came to you as no shock, but you were heavily disappointed.

haechan’s tongue singled out your clit while he lapped at you, ravenous. the second he saw you on the first day of class, he knew that he had to have you. so when he found out that you were sleeping with his father, cheating on your husband with haechan’s dad of all people, he became furious.

neither you or johnny were as good at keeping secrets as you thought yourselves to be. on more than one occasion, haechan saw you leaving their house. every now and then, he would see your name on his father’s phone. and it wasn’t fair. if anybody could please you, if anybody could bring you to heaven and back, it was the boy with his head buried between your legs.

as if matters couldn’t get any worse, haechan actually seemed to know what he was doing. though you would never admit it to his face, the way he was sucking at your bundle of nerves had you throbbing, pulsing involuntarily around nothing. you whimpered and whined, but chewed on your bottom lip to stifle the noise.

jaemin chuckled so quietly it was barely audible, but said nothing as of right now, cupping your tits in his palms and squeezing. his patience was much less limited than jeno’s, who was currently shifting out of his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock. you saw him in the corner of your misty eyes, noticing how rigid and thick his cock was, but said nothing.

what you didn’t expect, though probably should have seen coming, was for him to start jacking himself to the sight of you being mishandled. haechan wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment you locked eyes. matter of fact, that mutual pining was the common denominator of this little team.

all three of them were sick in the head, out of their minds obsessed with you. you would have expected some lethal kind of rivalry to develop out of that, but instead, they were much more menacing about it. they were helping each other get what they wanted.

you were a little overwhelmed from all the attention and jeno wasn’t even touching you, but just knowing that he was stroking his cock for you was more than a little unnerving. jaemin’s hands were so strangely gentle, setting a pattern as he groped you, all the while haechan was eating you out vigorously.

“pretty, pretty. so pretty when you cry,” jaemin sang in a way that could’ve been kind, if you ignored the nature of what was happening to you. then, like he knew your secret and was implying that he wouldn’t tell, he whispered for only your ears, “pretty when you lie, too.”

it wasn’t fair. you didn’t want to like this, just like how you didn’t want to be aroused. but when haechan pushed a pair of fingers inside of your pussy you gushed and tightened around his digits. you were so unstill, it drove him mad, prompting him to go harder.

your brain was empty but racing all the while, thinking, this is so fucking wrong. you were fucking his father, for crying out loud, and even that was wrong. you didn’t care then, so according to their logic, it shouldn’t have made a difference now.

haechan and jeno’s grunts blended into one giant cacophony of sound, haechan moaning with a mouthful of pussy because he couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted and your pussy was spasming around his digits, whereas jeno was grunting because he thought you were most right now when you were deprived of all control.

blood was pumping quicker than ever through your veins, your heart screaming for survival. you weren’t even remotely in control of your own body anymore, seized not only by your three reckless students, but the pleasure burning through you like wildfire.

your office, that was typically admirably ventilated, seemed to hot to breathe in. but your breaths became quicker and shorter, as if there was no space in your lungs, and you started to feel the sweat cooling down your back, reminding you of how naked you were.

haechan was so hard, stiffening in his pants the longer he watched you start to unravel, and he could’ve probably gotten off just from making you cum. you were grinding your hips against his mouth, and his long, slender fingers that were surely getting you there. you might not have wanted to confess the truth, but your body couldn’t lie.

“she’s so close,” jeno commented with a chuckle, addressing you as if you weren’t even there. “fuck, i am too.”

a hole of negative emotions opened then and there and swallowed you whole, namely guilt and humiliation. you didn’t want haechan to make you cum, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure, but that ship had already sailed.

nonetheless, you parted your lips and begged in between shaky moans, “haechan, stop. please, i’m begging you!”

“he’s not going to stop, sweetheart,” jaemin crooned, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “don’t you see? he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. you should feel so good about yourself.”

few things in life had ever made you feel this conflicted. on the one hand, this was degrading on way too many levels and you felt forcibly stripped of all of your dignity. but on the other, deep down inside, the sight of haechan with his head between your thighs as he licked and sucked at your cunt was inexplicably arousing.

and that did it for you. you tried to fight it, you really did, but your orgasm completely blindsided you, taking you by the reins and going to town. your lips parted in a cry of haechan’s name, your thighs trembling and heat striking through you like lightning as you gripped onto jaemin for dear life.

haechan continued to go down on you after you orgasmed, just until you finished more or less riding his face, going limp against your desk with only jaemin to keep you upright. you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. all the blood was rushing to your head and your heart was thumping in your ears.

haechan finally pulled back, licking your arousal off of his lips and the corners of his mouth in a way that made your core throb emptily, then asked, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

your ears burned and you said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. your answer was in the way your chest heaved like unstill waters, your fingers still holding onto jaemin’s shirt. like you thought you would collapse if you had nothing to anchor yourself.

jaemin took one glance at you and scoffed, “i think she loved it, man.”

there was something so smug in haechan’s stare, like he just knew that he had you.

when haechan moved, jeno came between your spread legs, still holding his cock while he stroked himself to climax in front of you. like it would never be satisfied, your pussy continued to throb at the sounds you were indirectly plucking out of him, culminating in one deep, guttural growl when he came, shooting his load on your cunt.

though you were (thank god) on birth control, him orgasming there still made you feel iffy. you could feel it trickling down into your hole and hated how eager it seemed to be filled. for half a second, you were convinced that was the worst that could happen.

imagine your shock when jaemin abandoned your boobs, soft and supple as they were, and shifted between your thighs next. you didn’t know what to expect when you noticed him move, they enjoyed keeping you guessing, but it definitely wasn’t for jaemin to lick at your release-stained pussy.

you gasped, “jaemin!”

the sound of him sucking and licking at your clit was lewd, and there were long, damp lines being made with his flattened tongue. while you were appalled, the other watched in amusement how jaemin unabashedly more or less ate jeno’s cum from your hole in a disturbing licking pattern. because where it was a nightmare for you, it was just one giant game to them.

to say nothing of the fact that you had only just orgasmed, sensitive. your thighs couldn’t handle the stimulation and you let out a breath of relief when his mouth separated from you, only for him to stand and force his lips against yours. you resisted, jolting away from him, but your attempts to evade him were in vain.

jaemin didn’t even need to grab your face to keep you still, because there was nowhere for you to hide. it was a disgusting, messy kiss, given that you were adamant on pushing him off. only so much of it was your fault though. jaemin liked it messy, liked how repulsed you were. he liked the grimace you were sporting and the blend of jeno’s cum and saliva dribbling down your chin. the damp spots of his saliva on your cheek from your attempts to dodge him and where his tongue pressed against you instead.

it was nauseating to you. you could taste jeno’s cum on your tongue, even though his cock hadn’t been anywhere near your mouth. and the the taste just wouldn’t go away.

jaemin, at last, pulled back, though only to laugh at the look on your face. “aw, don’t make that face. you liked it, right?”

you parted your lips to say deny him, but jaemin saw it coming and just kissed you again, not one to take no for an answer.

“okay, move your ass,” haechan said after a minute of watching you squirm. you never realized how strong jaemin was.

jaemin frowned, but moved out of the way. not because haechan told him to, but because he had something equally devious running through his brain.

you were baffled when you noticed haechan returning between your thighs, because he should’ve already had his fill. then, you noticed that he had freed his cock from his boxers in the time jaemin spent sucking on your tongue, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

you let out a cry of shock when they spread you over your desk the long way, carelessly toppling over your belongings, and yanked your skirt off your body completely. you were utterly naked, and there was no bit of you they hadn’t seen.

haechan positioned himself behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. there was so much terror in your body at the moment, scared not only for what was to come, but of liking it too.

“please,” you begged, trying to negotiate once more. “you boys should fool around with someone your own age.”

haechan snickered, as if that was funny. he probably thinks it is. “maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

your jaw slacked when his first thrust drew a pitched cry from the back of your throat. he wasn’t even half as patient as his father would be to sheathe himself completely. johnny would take his time, wallowing in your wetness just before slowly but steadily filling you, inch by fucking inch. haechan, on the other hand, went straight for the kill.

but to your horror, you were soaked enough for him to slip right in smoothly, to say nothing of jeno’s leftover cum facilitating the process. haechan was girthy like johnny too, in spite of all of their stark differences, and you hated that it was so familiar how he was stretching you out.

“wait,” you whimpered, fingers clamping aggressively against the edges of your desk. “haechan, please. you don’t need to do this.”

irritated, jeno nudged jaemin, groaning, “will you shut her up already?”

“gladly,” jaemin chirped, a devilish little smile tugging at his lips.

you lifted your head up when you heard jaemin approaching the side of your desk that you were facing, watching him shuffle out of his pants and boxers, and you quickly started to flail. haechan grabbed your neck, lowered his head, and hissed, “behave, or we’ll have to tell the class that their favorite professor is just a slutty little whore.”

you stilled, remembering what was at stake. it wasn’t just your career, but johnny’s too. the second it got out that the two of you were involved in an affair, you knew you would both have to answer for your sins.

when jaemin finally got his underwear off, lengthy hard cock standing angrily against his stomach, he positioned himself beside your mouth and crooned, “say ‘ah.’”

“i don’t want to,” you whimpered.

jeno crept over, evidently disgruntled, and there was a resounding smack when his palm landed flat against your cheek. “one more thing from you and your husband’s gonna get a nice surprise in his email,” he warned.

defeated, you silently opened your mouth, letting jaemin push himself to the back of your throat. he let out a pleasant little sigh, eyes fluttering closed, paying no attention to the tears dripping down your cheeks. your mouth was too warm for him to a give damn whether or not you wanted this, to care about what you were feeling.

all the while, haechan’s hands were bruising your hips with the merciless grip he had of them. unlike you, his moans were unrestrained, never shy to reveal the ecstasy making his blood pump and his dick throb. you were so wet, so tight, everything he imagined tenfold. his father didn’t deserve you, not in his opinion. everything johnny could do, haechan was certain that he could do better, even if you didn’t want to confess.

even if he was a lot less caring than his dad would present. you didn’t know johnny, not like you thought. the dark side haechan had didn’t just come out of nowhere. though you would never realize, there was a clear reason why haechan was so sick in the head, especially when it came to you. why he took great delight in forcing you over your desk, stuffing you full of his cock and listening to you cry, struggling to hide that you loved his cock.

“he doesn’t love you, you know,” haechan said none too gently, snickering from between your legs. “i hope you realize you’re just another easy whore. not the first, not the last.”

there was so much going on that you were hoping you could somehow detach yourself from the brutal reality. not only was your body overloaded, but your mind and soul, ripping a hole right through all that you thought to be true.

it was all too fucking much. “your mouth feels so good,” jaemin exhaled, a hand tangled through your hair.

“you should feel her pussy. she’s so fucking wet, dude. and she thinks we’re going to buy that she’s not begging for this,” haechan replied, completely degrading.

jaemin chuckled breathlessly. you were sucking it out of him, against your will or not. “yeah, i can hear how wet she is.”

jeno said nothing, but you were already too overwhelmed to notice his absence in the conversation. he was engrossed in thought, waiting with staggering patience for his own turn. which wasn’t typical for him at all. he swore, when he was done with you, you weren’t even going to think for weeks.

between haechan’s twisted smack of his hips against yours and the way jaemin was unabashedly using your mouth to get off, you couldn’t decide which was more brutal. torture was torture, but if it was meant to be so bad, there shouldn’t have been moans slipping from your mouth uncontrollably. there shouldn’t have been a familar weight sitting in the pit of your stomach, waiting to wreck you.

“i know you love this,” haechan said, maybe project just a little, but the body didn’t lie and he could feel you tightening. “i know you love this fucking dick. wish i could hear you say it, baby.”

“that can be arranged,” jaemin quipped, but it took you by surprise when he actually pulled his cock from your mouth. “c’mon, angel. tell haechan how much you love his dick.”

your face flushed with humiliation, but you knew what would happen if you failed to comply. “i...,” you started, hesitant. “i love your dick, haechan.”

haechan smacked your ass, making you stifle a scream. “again.”

you cried out, “i love your dick!”

“i know,” haechan said, sickeningly confident in himself. “i also know that you’re about to cum.”

it was maddening that your husband of ages could hardly even get you off these days but some students in your class were recognizing the signs in record time. you were also ashamed with yourself for being so aroused, for needing to orgasm this badly, but you forfeited control of yourself moments ago.

jaemin had enough and once his dick started to twitch desperately, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, chasing relief for the raging hard-on you’d given him. rather than you sucking him off, it was more of him relentlessly fucking your throat, not stopping when you gagged.

and it wasn’t long before the three of you ultimately came, like a chain of dominoes collapsing after each other. this orgasm was just as powerful as the one that came before, the room reeling as your screams were muffled against jaemin’s stiff cock. your whole body was a thousand degrees hotter. jaemin’s warm cum releasing in your mouth while haechan’s seeped deeply into your pussy.

although you tried to swallow jaemin’s cum, per his request, some of it dripped onto the floor. you were terrified of leaving evidence of this encounter, wishing you would’ve gulped it all back, but then you felt haechan’s cum leaking out of you and your priorities shifted.

“my turn,” jeno said, though that was a given. you were confused when he started to spread haechan’s cum over your asshole, though for the longest you could feel his stare burning through your backside.

baffled, and maybe somewhat startled, you asked, “jeno, what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” jeno snapped belligerently, smacking his palm harshly against your cunt. you cried out in pain, unexpecting. “i’m tired of hearing your voice. just take it.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what was to come. nothing could have prepared you for the merciless way he penetrated your ass, effectively knocking the wind out of you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in the sky was stolen and hid in this little box somewhere.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to beg for forgiveness for whatever you had done, but no sound would come from your mouth. there was only instant tears, your hands gripped the rim of your desk for purchase. the makeup you were wearing was ruined ages ago, but it had to have looked despicable now, because you were sobbing harder than ever.

“poor thing.” jaemin frowned, pretending to be compassionate. that was something he was good at, you realized. he had you fooled until you saw how recklessly he fucked your throat, and you came to accept they were all too alike.

“she’ll be, fuck, fine,” jeno groaned, careless. he was the roughest of the bunch, the most antagonistic. “this hole is so fucking tight.”

jeno was pressing you against the desk harder than haechan had, roughly mishandling you. it was obvious that jeno didn’t see you as his equal. when it came to you, all he gave a damn about was passing your class and fucking your ass.

never in your life had anyone ever fucked you there before, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. you were so repulsed, choking on your own feelings as they killed you slowly. the pain was unbearable, making it impossible to remain still, but that didn’t matter when jeno had you borderline flattened.

it was almost awe-inducing how he held you down with ease, regardless of how strong you thought you were and how violently you were reacting. it was the closest thing to being split open. pitiful little noises escaped you, but you bit them back, because the last thing you wanted was to get caught. somehow, though, the shock was more agonizing than the pain itself.

your agonized whimpers and jeno’s husky grunts made an awkward cacophony. if there was any of them that got off to your helplessness, you knew it was all of them, but jeno had to wallow in it more than either of them.

haechan and jaemin were stroking their cocks to the sight of you being ravaged to the point of total destruction. there were plenty of times in your life where you felt nothing short of broken, but this was a different variant, a kind from which you knew that you would never recover.

jeno couldn’t believe his thick cock was even fitting into your tight, flexing asshole, though then again, whatever you thought you couldn’t take, jeno would make you do. your body was for his own personal amusement. he leveraged himself deeper and deeper, groaning and laughing, using you to his advantage. because what jeno wanted, he always got. every time without fail. obviously, you were no exception to this pattern, even if it was to your own dismay.

your lip was bleeding from how frequently you were biting. all you wanted was to protect your reputation. you had things to lose, things you knew jeno would steal away from you in a heartbeat, because all he did was take.

“she’s such a damn whore, fuck. she should be grateful i’m fucking her,” jeno hissed, aggressive.

given how much you had heard adjacent statements in the past hour, you were starting to believe them, no matter how disparaging they were. you were accepting the cold truth, that this was your punishment for being unfaithful.

quickening his pace, jeno continued, “i’ve never wanted to fuck that nasty little pussy of hers. not when everybody’s been inside of it. but i can tell she’s never had this ass stretched before.”

his words were hurting more than his cruel movements, and you didn’t understand the science behind that. you whined, “jeno.” please, have mercy, was what you wanted to say, but you knew there was no point.

jeno squeezed your neck, cutting off your ability to inhale, and you felt every nerve in your body start to panic. “for the umpteenth time, shut the fuck up. no one’s fucking talking to you, bitch.”

you quieted, face tensing with delirious pain.

“pathetic if you ask me,” haechan added, breath shaky. “her husband’s dick isn’t good enough for her, so she fucks my dad, and now that we give her three more, she still has the audacity to complain.”

jaemin snorted. “textbook cockslut.”

you wanted to speak, you were desperate to defend your honor and identity, but you had already said enough and you were lucky that they hadn’t already decided to expose you to the whole planet. you had no defenses against them, nothing in your arsenal.

“begging us to stop, but she won’t stop fucking cumming. needy little bitch,” jeno chided, though judging from his breathlessness, he was far from disgruntled.

jaemin chortled, his cock still close to your face, and it was making you mildly uncomfortable. “maybe we should send her back to the husband with some tips.”

“oh, i’ve got one,” haechan said, beaming with his usual mischief. “hold her down and use her little holes until you’re done.”

“yeah, looks like she loves that,” jaemin retorted.

jeno quipped, “we should’ve recorded. maybe showed him a tutorial.”

haechan blew out a contented sigh. “well, there’s always next time.”

your heart was taut with fear at the thought of there being a next time, but the three of your students were grinning with excitement, as if they wholly anticipated reliving this moment in the not so distant future.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno grunted, wanting to go even deeper, but there was nowhere for him to move.

haechan hummed, reminiscing over how good it felt to cum inside of your throbbing pussy. how you milked the cum out of him, bled him dry. “shame she’s on birth control. i overheard her and my dad talking,” he replied, nonchalant. “imagine if we got her pregnant.”

“man, don’t talk like that,” jeno groaned.

haechan glanced to jaemin, both of them snickering amongst each other. “dude, i was just kidding. don’t tell me that’s actually getting your dick hard.”

“fuck, i’m gonna…”

the most delicious growl came from the tip of jeno’s tongue when he released inside of your asshole, his brows scrunching together with pleasure. his hips finally grinded to a halt when he met his climax, dumping way too much of his load inside. you could feel his fingertips leaving marks that would indefinitely stain your skin, and you dreaded having to explain them to your husband.

when jeno finally pulled away from you, having had his fill for now, your body went limp against your desk. you could have moved, but you were too exhausted. sweat cooled down your back, chilling you to shudders, but there wasn’t a single thought in your head. all you could do was lie there, used and exploited, hoping that life would return to the way you knew it before they broke you.

because right now, it was bland. the only thing you could feel was the soreness in your legs and the cum dripping from your hole, numbing yourself to everything else.

there was so patronizing about the way jeno turned to you, asking with the slyest grin on his face, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

#tw: noncon #nct dream smut #lee haechan smut #lee jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream hard hours #haechan smut #jeno smut #revehae fics

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katelynnwrites · 2 months

Text

There Ain't No Love (Like Our Love) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: some angst

word count: 1890

summary: syd suddenly gets insecure and worried about the age difference in your relationship with her

a/n: requested :)

Humming quietly, you push your face further into the crook of your girlfriend’s neck.

She smells heavenly and she must feel you moving around because her arms tighten around your waist.

‘Too early.’ Sydney grumbles.

You chuckle and press a good morning kiss onto her skin.

‘Love you sonnenschein.’

‘I love you more.’ She whispers.

Laughing softly, you cup her face with your hand.

Tenderly, you stroke your thumb across her cheekbone. It’s an act of immeasurable adoration, one that has your girlfriend’s heart skipping a beat.

‘Not possible.’ You murmur.

‘Believe me it is. I love you. I love you.’ She declares, as she sits up to kiss you properly.

Her lips move against yours with purpose, as she pours every ounce of her affection for you into it.

You sigh happily and the midfielder leans over you, pushing her advantage as she swings her leg over your body to straddle you.

With the way she’s kissing you, you know you are not getting out of bed anytime soon.

******

You’re right.

Both you and Syd rush into the locker room, just a fraction of a minute on time.

As you sit down in your cubby and begin to hurriedly put your boots on, Klara teases, ‘Had a late night?’

‘No. Not that it’s any of your business.’ You huff.

‘Okay kleine.’ The forward sings.

‘Not a baby.’

You know she’s riling you up and yet, can’t help but retort.

Klara laughs, ‘How old are you again?’

‘One week away from turning nineteen.’

‘Exactly! A child! The fans call you Baby Bayern for a reason.’

She flounces out of the room with a look of delight and you roll your eyes, shoving your shin pads into your socks.

‘Very mature.’ Giulia mocks.

You jump, having not noticed her earlier and groan, ‘Oh not you too.’

‘Relax…I meant her. For all of your eighteen years, you’re far more mature than we give you credit for. Certainly more responsible and sensible than Klara. Except when you let her get under your skin of course.’

Your teammate adds the last sentence cheekily and you smile.

‘Thanks Giuli.’

******

In training, you partner up with Syd as usual but when you give her a grin, she only responds with a small smile.

You don’t know what to make of it but try to assure yourself that she is simply tired.

It’s after the first drill, when she gets Georgia to switch with her that you know for certain that something is wrong.

Never once in your entire relationship or your previous friendship with her has she done that.

It throws you off and while you try your best to remain focused on practice, your passes do not connect and you miss easy shots on goal.

You’re an anxious mess by the time training ends and everyone can see it.

Everyone but your girlfriend apparently.

You spend a long time in the showers, trying to get rid of your thoughts under the hot water.

When you emerge, Sydney is gone.

The both of you had come together and with the blonde taking her car, you’re left without a ride.

You must look lost as you stand in the car park because Magda and Pernille take pity on you, offering to drop you off.

‘Syd’s place or yours?’ Magda asks gently and you hesitate before answering.

‘Mine please.’

Your voice is small but your words reflect how you are feeling. You don’t want to see Sydney right now.

You don’t say much for the duration of the car ride and when you reach your apartment, Pernille gets out of the car with you, to give you a tight hug.

One that you soak in and appreciate all the more because of how badly you need it.

‘Call if you need anything. Even if you just need someone to talk to.’

‘Especially if you need someone to talk to.’ Magda calls out.

‘Thank you.’ You softly say and give your teammates a little wave before you disappear inside the building.

******

Your apartment is cold and empty. It’s dusty too because you haven’t been here in weeks.

Not since you unofficially moved in with the midfielder.

Sydney had cleared two of her drawers and set aside half of her closet space for you, three months ago.

Your toiletries and hairbrush are in her bathroom, your makeup and perfume on her vanity table.

You live there now. Her apartment is your home too.

Maybe for not much longer though.

Because Sydney gives you stone cold silence. You check your phone repeatedly for the rest of the day but she doesn’t text or call.

When you curl up to sleep alone, you can’t help but cry.

How could a day that started so perfectly end in a completely opposite way?

******

Turning up to training the next day, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you and your blotchy cheeks.

Klara takes you aside immediately.

For all of her teasing, she cares deeply about you. Like an older sister, she can be very protective.

‘What’s wrong? Please don’t lie to me. I know something is wrong and if yesterday was anything to go by, it has to do with Sydney.’

She squeezes your hand and you feel the shaky dam you built overnight break.

Everything comes out in a rush, ‘She had Georgia switch with her during training. She left me here and didn’t say anything. Klara, is my relationship with her over? I-Is this her way of breaking up with me? I don’t know what to think.’

You sob and the forward pulls you into a tight hug.

‘I don’t know what’s going through her head but I don’t think she’s breaking up with you. She loves you. Everyone can see that.’

‘I know she loves me but I don’t feel it now.’

You muffle your crying in Klara’s shoulder and that is the reason why you don’t see Sydney until it’s too late.

‘I’m sorry.’ She breathes.

You flinch and she sucks in a deep breath, hurt flashing across her own eyes. You have never rejected her before but she guesses that in this current situation, she deserves it.

‘I am so sorry.’

The blonde looks like she has been crying herself, the entire night if the dark circles under her eyes are anything to go by.

You don’t know what to do. It’s one thing for you to be hurting and another for your girlfriend to be hurting too. No matter how much pain and confusion she puts you through, you will always care about her.

Sydney takes your lack of response as a refusal and she begs, ‘Please…I love you. Can we talk?’

The German woman’s face falls even further when you still don’t say anything. In fact, you squeeze Klara’s hand in yours even more tightly.

Your girlfriend sniffles but meaningfully says, ‘Okay. I understand that you need some time. Text me when you’re ready to talk. I’ll wait for you. I’m always going to wait for you.’

She turns back around to leave, quickly doing so to hide her falling tears but you quietly tell her, ‘Stay. We can talk.’

Letting go of your friend’s hand, you try to give her a reassuring smile.

Klara doesn’t buy it but respects your decision, kissing your cheek gently and leaving. She shuts the door behind her with a click, giving you and Syd privacy.

As soon as she does, Sydney is trying to explain herself, ‘I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t love you. I do. I love you so much that every important person in my life has heard your name. Everyone I know will have to know you to understand me. That is how deep of an imprint you have left on me. I hope you will continue to do so forever.’

‘Oh.’ You breathe, not expecting the blonde to say anything of the sort.

‘I’m sorry.’ She says again.

‘I don’t understand. Why’d you have Georgia change with you? Why did you leave without me and not say anything? Syd, are you breaking up with me?’

‘No….I-I don’t want to break up with you. Not unless you want to break up with me.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean that Klara is right. What she said about you…’

‘Me?’

Your confusion is growing with every word out of the midfielder’s mouth and you shake your head, ‘Sonnenschein, help me understand? I don’t want to break up with you.’

‘You are just about to turn nineteen. I’m twenty three.’

‘Sydney?’

‘Klara said you’re a baby and I know you are not but there is still a four year age difference between us.’

‘Does that bother you?

As hard as you try to keep it from happening, your voice still wobbles.

Your girlfriend squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before opening them with a quiet sigh.

‘No. But the fans judge. Our teammates might judge.’

‘Syd!’

There is no mistaking the anger that is rushing through you and the blonde winces.

‘Are you serious? You wait till we’re almost a year into our relationship to think about that? To want to back out?’

Sydney’s hazel eyes widen considerably, ‘No! I’m just worried that their words might affect you. That you might be hurt by whatever they have to say. I love you but I can love you from afar if it means it will be easier for you.’

You give her a shove, ‘Fuck you for being such an idiot sonnenschein.

‘What?’

‘I love you. I love you for being you but did it not cross your mind to talk to me? You spiraled and I could have pulled you out of it.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She mumbles.

‘I don’t care what anyone else says. You love me and I love you. Both our families support our relationship and none of our teammates have ever said anything less than positive. That’s all that matters to me. It’s enough for me, is it enough for you?’

‘You are enough for me.’ The German woman breathes.

‘Then let it go Syd. Don’t worry about all the outside noise and simply focus on us.’

Your girlfriend stares at you for a long moment before letting out a sob.

Tentatively, she asks, ‘Can I kiss you?’

Smiling through your tears, you tiptoe and kiss her gently in answer.

The blonde midfielder audibly sighs in relief.

‘Don’t know what I did to deserve you.’ She murmurs against your lips in between kissing you, one, two, three, four times.

‘I’m going to make it up to you. Won’t let my thoughts spin me around again and if they begin to, I swear I won’t shut you out. I’ll talk to you.’

‘Okay.’ You whisper and lean fully into her arms, as she presses one last kiss onto your forehead.

Her fingers delicately brush loose strands of hair out of your face and she cradles your face in her hands before she drops her hands in favour of hugging you.

‘I love you. Endlessly.’ Your girlfriend promises, holding you tightly against her.

‘I love you too and just to be clear, you’re not breaking up with me and I’m not breaking up with you?’

Sydney groans at your slight teasing.

‘No. Never.’

You laugh and slip your hand into hers, ‘Good.’

German Translations:

kleine - little one

sonnenschein - sunshine

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #fcb frauen #gerwnt #dfb frauen #woso fanfics #woso fanfic #woso community #katelynnwrites

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dovkss · 11 months

Text

Dumb Bitch

word count: 5.8k

summary: after you pine after him for so long with no luck, Katsuki finally decides to take you as his; thanks to his best friend.

warning: 18+; mean dom! katsuki; dirty talk (ish); oral (m receiving); rough sex; spitting; choking; breath play; degradation; hair pulling; manipulation; dacryphilia; edging; size kink; misogyny; yandere tendencies; kinda ooc, I was having a lot of fun with this one; kinda dubcon-ish?, reader is drunk for the most part; katsuki is an ass; poor eijiro won’t take no for an answer and ends up getting fucked over bc of it; katsuki and ei are basically frenemies

all characters are aged up !!

a/n: my first published fic on this blog omg !! sorry for any mistakes or anything, I kinda rushed this but I enjoyed making this, hope you enjoy reading it :)

Kirishima stood in the middle of his room with his phone in his hand as a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He knew of your little crush on his best friend and he couldn’t help but want to play cupid. He had the perfect plan, all he needed to do now was execute it. Sure, he knew Bakugou's disdain for you ran deep, but he also couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there could be something more.

Dialing your number, he chuckled to himself, imagining the reaction he’d get out of you. It wasn't long before the ringback tone was cut off by the call connecting. Immediately you greeted him with a voice filled with joy, as usual.

“Hi, Kiri!” you greeted.

“Hey hey! How’s it going?” he asked.

You hummed in delight. He heard tiny giggles in the background. “Great,” you exclaimed. “The girls and I are having a sleepover right now… if you wanna talk to Mina, she’s right here- fuck!”

From the sound of it, you were hit as a sign to shut up. Kirishima chuckled at your guys’ antics. “Well, this is easy enough knowing you’re all in one place! I’m throwing a little get-together this weekend, I want you all to be there!”

It got a little quiet on the other end of the line, the only thing being heard is some shuffling and slight whispers.

“Hmm, who’s all gonna be there?” you asked curiously.

Kirishima smiled. “He’s gonna be there.”

He could almost hear the collective gasp that came from you and your friends. Then it went dead silent. You muted yourself. The redhead imagined your guys’ squeals.

You cleared your throat, going back to trying to act normal, and unmuted yourself. “Count us in, Kiri!” you exclaimed. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Everything was going to plan. You and he said your goodbyes before the call ended. Kirishima couldn’t help but wear a satisfied grin. He knew he had sparked a glimmer of hope within you. The idea of igniting a connection between you and Bakugou excited him. But it was soon dampened when Bakugou stormed into the room with a couple of cans of soda in his hands.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked.

Kirishima knew he couldn’t lie to him. Bakugou knows when he lies. Bakugou set the sodas on the wood floor and grabbed two cans. He tossed one to his friend and opened up his own. He sat on Kirishima’s bed, facing him, awaiting an answer.

Kirishima popped his soda open and took a sip. The room was filled with tense silence, even if it was for only a moment. “I just invited some last-minute people to the party,” he said.

True.

Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed. His intense gaze radiated intense annoyance. “Who?” he questioned some more.

Kirishima winced playfully at Bakugou’s usual harsh response. He would rather intend to pique the ash blonde’s curiosity rather than ignite his ire.

"Don't worry about it, bro. We'll see everybody there!"

For the first time, Bakugou wanted to be wrong. He shook his head in disapproval before chugging down some more of his soda. "You're a fucking idiot, Kirishima. I thought you knew better than to invite her."

Kirishima squinted at Bakugou. "I get that you don't like her, but you're also being way too quick to judge. Get to know her a little better, she isn't who you think she is."

Bakugou scoffed, his voice filled with disbelief. "You think I would waste my time on someone like her? You should know me better than that."

"I just think that maybe-"

"That fucking shallow, attention-seeking whore. I have no interest in girls like her."

Kirishima's expression softened, his voice gentle but firm. "Not cool, man. She's still my friend," he started, "and I think you watch too many movies. Not every girl that cares about how they look on the outside is some dumb bitch."

Bakugou's scowl deepened, frustration etched on his face. "I don't need you playing matchmaker, Kirishima. I can take care of myself."

Kirishima sighed and raised his hands in defeat. "Fine! I'll let it go!" He then offered a small smile to defuse the tension. "Let's focus on getting this shit ready. We need to go out and buy some cups and food and... whatever else I can't think of on the spot right now!"

Bakugou grumbled in agreement. "Whatever. Let's get this shit over with."

Your shoes clicked softly against the polished floor of the library as you anxiously scanned the aisles of the bookshelves. You were searching for Kirishima and you were in a bit of a rush.

Earlier that morning while you were packing your purse, you realized your beloved wallet, adorned with sparkling rhinestones, wasn't on your vanity. You would never dare forget it; you relied on it because it had every card you could think of in there. And some backup cash.

You rummaged through other bags and drawers, panic rising within you. It was one of your most treasured possessions, something your mother gave you as a gift before you left for college. You desperately needed that wallet, especially now, with an important event just hours away.

Realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. You remembered opening it to pay the pizza delivery man at Kirishima's house the previous day when you were studying with him and the girls. You must've left it behind. You were so stupid!

With a sigh of frustration, you dialed Kirishima's number from your backup flip phone since your main phone was dead. Your fingers trembled lightly as you held it up to your ear, you hoped beyond hope that he had seen it. You didn't expect him to pick up because he wouldn't possibly recognize the number but he did.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Kiri! Hi, how are you? Good? That's great," you greeted eagerly, "um, do you by any chance know if I left my wallet at your place?" You rocked back and forth as you shoved your purse into the front seat of your car, putting your key into the ignition.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Oh, that's yours? The one with a bunch of glitter… crap on it? Yeah, I have it on me right now actually." he said.

You let out a sigh of relief and smiled. "Great, can I pick it up from your right now? I'm kind of in a hurry..."

He chuckled. "Of course! I'll be on campus for a couple more hours, just swing by the library."

With a renewed sense of purpose, you drove to campus. It took you way longer than usual due to traffic, but you made it nonetheless.

You made it to the library and began scanning the room, looking for your friend. The scent of old books filled the air, and the hushed whispers of students studying added an aura of calmness.

You spotted Kirishima in a corner, engrossed in a thick textbook, writing down notes as well, and you made your way toward him. As you approached, your eyes inadvertently fell upon a figure sitting next to him doing the same.

A slightly taller man with spiky blonde hair. You could tell by the way he sat, he was undeniably arrogant. Katsuki Bakugou.

Your heart skipped a beat and a nervous flutter ran through you. You'd heard rumors of his fiery personality. His ability to put anyone who dared to cross his path in their place. You were very curious about him.

"Kiri!" you chirped, flashing a bright smile.

Kirishima looked up from his book and returned the kind gesture. He put his finger up to his lips, reminding you that they were still in a library. You quietly apologized and laughed at yourself.

"It's in my bag, hold on," he whispered. He picked up his backpack from the floor next to him, unzipping it to go through the contents inside.

Your gaze wandered across the library. You tried your best to not look at Bakugou. It was hard not to, though, he was very handsome. Finally, you gave in and turned your attention to him.

You offered a tentative smile. "Hi there! I don't think we've met before."

Bakugou's piercing gaze met yours. He was unimpressed and regarded you as if your presence irritated him. Unbeknownst to you, it did.

Your smile faltered for a moment, but you refused to let his cold demeanor deter you. "I'm a friend of Kirishima's-"

"I know who you are," he responded curtly, his tone laced with thinly veiled contempt.

You felt your cheeks heat up. His voice was so intimidating and so attractive. "Katsuki Bakugou, right? I've heard a lot about you."

His dirty look became more prominent. "Yeah, I've heard enough about you too."

Your heart sank a little at his words. What did he hear? You weren't aware of any rumors of you or anything, and you were kind to everyone. The dummies, weirdos, everyone!

Kirishima chimed in. "Be nice, man," he said as he got up with your wallet in his hand. He handed it to you and you took it from him.

"Thanks so much, Kiri," you said, a sense of relief washing over you. "You have no idea how much I rely on this thing."

He shook his head, his smile showcasing his sharp teeth. "Don’t we all!"

You nodded, your gaze fixed on your reflection in your little compact mirror. "You saved the day, yet again, Kiri. I owe you one."

Ever since then, you got to know more about Bakugou thanks to Kirishima. How despite what many would believe, he's organized, and a clean freak. How much he hates being around kids yet are so great with them. Just how well he can play the drums or cook.

You thought you were subtle but it was obvious that you longed for Bakugou. It wasn't your fault he was everything you wanted in a man.

He had it all. Hardworking, determined, and confident. It was so sexy. The only problem was that he didn't seem interested at all. If anything, he seemed to despise you. To him, you were just an annoying bug that kept coming back even after being swatted at.

You wanted to win him over. When you knew you would be around him, you purposefully dressed a little sexier. Bending over to grab things even while wearing the shortest skirt that barely covered your ass and tight shirts to enhance your chest and waist.

Bakugou didn't even spare you a sympathetic glance. But you kept going. Tonight was the party and this was your last chance. If you couldn't even do as much as strike up a conversation with him, you told yourself you'd give up. You were too pretty for all this effort to be put into a man. But god, he was so hot.

Your anticipation grew as you and your friends approached Kirishima's house. The usually quiet neighborhood was transformed into a hive of activity. Cars lined the streets and the sound of laughter and music spilled from the open windows. What was meant to be a "get-together" had turned into a Project X party.

"Todoroki, could you go any damn slower?" Mina complained, her seat belt already off.

"You want me to run over these people?" he asked. You giggled, knowing his question was literal.

Mina groaned in annoyance, mumbling a small 'no.' Momo was in the front seat next to her boyfriend. "Don't listen to her, she's just a little impatient."

Finally, Todoroki got you guys to the front of the house. You were the first to get out, followed by Mina coming out behind you. Momo kissed her boyfriend. Then gave him another kiss. Then another.

Mina whined loudly. "Oh my god, Momo! He's just going to park the car! He's not leaving you, come on!"

You leave them behind in silence. As you pushed open the front door, the energy hit you like a tidal wave. Every inch of the house was packed with people, bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. The air was thick with alcohol, weed, and the hum of people trying to converse over the loud music.

You looked around, mouth agape. You didn't even notice Mina and Momo by your side. Their eyes widened at the sight before them.

Mina leaned in closer to be heard above the noise. "This place is insane!" she exclaimed, her voice barely audible amidst the chaos.

Momo nodded in agreement. "I don't think any of us expected this. Kirishima sure knows how to throw a party."

Your eyes scanned the room in search of the boy. You caught a glimpse of his familiar red hair through the crowd and motioned for your friends to follow.

It was a challenge to move through people. Your face scrunched up in disgust as the air grew warmer. The smell finally getting to you, it was gross. Sweaty bodies rubbed against you as you made your way through. You gagged. The once cozy house had transformed into something completely unrecognizable.

Finally reaching Kirishima's side, you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and greeted you. It took you a moment before realizing he was shirtless. And his hair wasn't done how it usually was. It was messy and wet.

"What happened here? This was supposed to be a small get-together!" you asked, evidently in disbelief.

Kirishima laughed. "I know! It got a bit out of hand! But hey, more people, more fun, right? By the way, you look gorgeous!"

You wore a corset dress. The bodice was designed with pretty lacing and the mini skirt boasted a slit on each side. The white set was complete with thick stilettos and makeup that accentuated your natural features.

You felt your face get hot and you smiled, giving him a little twirl to show off your outfit. Kirishima dog whistled playfully and handed you a plastic red cup. You looked inside and sniffed it. Alcohol. Strong, strong alcohol.

Taking what Kirishima said, you and your friends were immersed in the lively atmosphere of the party. You all danced; twirling and spinning, laughter blending in with the melodies as you lost yourself.

With a drink in each of your guys' hands, your inhibitions further dissolved, and you found yourselves caught in a whirlwind of euphoria. You clinked cups, toasting to the night, and gulped down the concoction.

Your mind was no longer consumed by thoughts of Bakugou. The weight of your infatuation was lifted, replaced with a sense of liberation. You reveled in the present moment, finding comfort exactly where you were.

Time lost its grip and you were having fun. By the time you were worn out, your cheeks were flushed and the warmth of the alcohol coursed through your veins, the effects beginning to take a toll on your mind and body. What was just an exhilarating atmosphere now seemed overwhelming, your energy dwindling with each passing moment. Your giggles faded and were replaced with yawns that you couldn't stifle.

Kirishima approached you with a concerned look. He gently placed a hand on your head, stroking your forehead with his thumb. "You are exhausted..."

You closed your eyes for a tiny bit of rest and your ability to hold yourself up became harder and harder. Kirishima shooed away some random person off the couch to make some room for you. He helped you sit up and made sure you were comfortable before going to look for his blonde best friend.

"Bakugou!" Kirishima called out over the music. He approached the guy who sat in the corner of the party, a group of people Kirishima had never seen before was surrounding his friend.

He pushed through the small crowd. "I need your help."

Bakugou blinked at the lack of explanation. "With what?"

Kirishima nudged his head toward where you were sitting. Bakugou's eyes followed only to see your state. You looked sick and stiff, almost as if you were dead. He groaned, taking a swig of his beer. "Not my problem-"

"She's fucking tired! Just help me take her to my room so she can get some rest!" Kirishima's expression didn't waver as he pressed on. "I know we aren't exactly getting along right now, but I can't do this alone."

A mixture of irritation and reluctance flickered across Bakugou's face. His jaw clenched, the internal conflict was visible in his tense posture. After a brief moment, he finally relented.

"If she pukes on me, I'm killing both of you," he grumbled.

Together, Kirishima and Bakugou made their way through the crowded room. Bakugou downed the last of his drink before tossing it somewhere he couldn't see. He watched Kirishima pull you up from the couch, your tired form leaning on him for support and your eyes struggling to stay open.

Bakugou's mind wandered back to all the instances when you had made your attempts to catch his attention. He'd seen your efforts, dismissing them as frivolous and uninteresting. But up until recently, recognition stirred within him.

“F-fuck! Katsuki!”

The boy groaned in response. His thrusts didn’t let up even for a moment. He had her in doggy style, making sure to go deep inside her with his long strokes. His hands pressed down on her hips to keep her in place as her upper half wriggled around in pleasure.

Bakugou was turned off by her horrible acting. It was worse than a pornstar’s. At this rate, he knew he wouldn’t cum at all despite her already cumming for the first time.

The girl wasn’t ugly, she just wasn’t his type. Too vanilla for someone like him. He needed to rough someone up without worry. To grab someone by the neck and push their head into his pillow. To make someone take his big dick in full as they plead for mercy.

You were that someone.

He imagined pulling your hair and lifting you against him, your sweating bodies pressed against each other. How he’d throw you back down and pound into you from behind relentlessly. How you’d look back at him, unrecognizable with your makeup smudged and messed up, his hand rubbing along your back, up and down.

“Please… too big!” you’d bed.

He wanted badly to shake those thoughts away but he couldn’t. He closed his eyes to imagine more of what he’d do to you. Before he knew it, the thoughts set him off.

He pulled out of the girl and stroked a bit before cumming on her backside. She breathed in and out heavily, trying to catch her breath. She also began to touch herself so she can cum a second time

Bakugou didn’t help. He was busy thinking about you. Thinking about your lips, eyes, curves, and smell. You. You. You. He wanted you all for himself. But he knew your type; sweet on the outside, secretly hoping to be given a chance to play others to get what you wanted. He wasn’t going to play that game.

That night haunted him for weeks. When you came around, he went out of his way to avoid coming in contact with you. In his room, he would hear your voice ask: “What’s wrong with him?”

Kirishima would respond: “He’s been this like for a minute, but I’m not pushing it.”

Later that night, after you left, Kirishima knocked on Bakugou’s door. In one of his hands, he had a bowl of food that he cooked the day before.

“You’ve been in your room all day, bro! You need to help me set up!” he said.

Bakugou examined the boxing glove on his left hand. He wiggled his fingers only to realize it was way too stiff. Now he needed new gloves.

“M’ not hungry.”

Kirishima opened the door anyway and approached the boy, putting the dish on his desk. He looked at Bakugou and crossed his arms. "Something botherin' you, man?"

Bakugou huffed. Kirishima may have been a little slow, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell when his best friend is off.

Kirishima sighed. "(Y/n) and I noticed that you've been kinda distant lately. You barely come around anymore."

"Why is she always mentioned whenever we talk?"

Kirishima was taken aback. He raised an eyebrow.

Bakugou finally stood up, looking him dead in the eyes. "It's obvious you have a thing for her.

Kirishima stammered, unsure of how to respond. "I mean- I care about her as a friend, just like I do you. There's nothing more to it."

"You're always by her side, looking out for her, protecting her. Like you're fucking obsessed with her! It's pathetic!"

Kirishima shook his head in disbelief. "Just because I'm being a good friend doesn't mean I have ulterior motives. If you can't see that, then maybe you're the one with the problem here!"

Bakugou's body blazed with irritation. "You're fucking jealous that she pays more attention to me than she does to you."

Kirishima's jaw tightened. Immediately Bakugou knew he struck a nerve.

"Face it, Kirishima. She isn't interested, so back off. You're nothing compared to me."

Without another word, Kirishima turned on his heel, standing tall and steps firm as he walked away from the blonde. "Party is in three hours. Be ready."

Bakugou couldn't help but get another jab in as he listened to Kirishima mumble insults before slamming the door shut behind him.

"Stop worrying about me and start worrying about how you're gonna get your bitch off my dick!"

A wry smile formed on Bakugou’s lips as he recalled the telltale signs that hadn’t gone unnoticed before. Kirishima’s subtle glances in your direction, the way his eyes would light up whenever you entered the room, how his cheeks turned pink whenever you laughed at his jokes.

Bakugou knew his friend wouldn’t admit that he liked you, but he also knew you didn't know. You were nothing but a dumb bitch.

As they reached Kirishima's room, Bakugou held the door open, allowing Kirishima to guide you inside due to your unsteady steps. The room was untouched, bathed in a warm, inviting glow like it always had. It offered a haven of tranquility, opposite of the chaotic activities going on downstairs.

Kirishima led you to his bed, helping you settle down with gentle care. "Thanks. I'll stay with her for a bit. You can head back to the party if you want-"

He was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking. His eyes widened. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He got up and rushed out the door without an explanation, only a ‘be right back!’

Bakugou watched him go and contemplated leaving himself. Then he looked at you, your chest softly rising up and down and you breathe. He sighed and went to close the door before sitting down next to your resting body. He traced his fingertips down the side of your arm.

“You want me so bad, don't you?" he asked. But it was more of a rhetorical question.

Suddenly you nodded softly. "Y-Yeah..."

Oh, you were awake. Bakugou's eyes furrowed.

"More than anything..."

"Then prove it," he growled. "Prove to me that you're worthy of my attention."

Barely conscious, you didn't understand what he meant, but as the alcohol faded, your sense came back to you. Your willingness to do anything to win Bakugou over was back and took over your mind in an instant.

You began to unbutton your shirt, revealing your lacy bra. Bakugou watched you with a cold, calculating gaze.

"You think that's enough?" he scoffed. "You really are a dumb bitch who doesn't know anything."

Your eyes filled with tears. You'd never been spoken to like that before. Yet, something about it made you hot. His coldness and brutality made you rub your thighs together.

"Please, Bakugou," you pleaded.

Bakugou then shook his head as he began to knead your thigh. "Call me Katsuki."

You smiled. Finally, you were getting what you wanted. He saw you. He noticed you. He's into you.

"Please, Katsuki," you whispered. "Tell me what you want me to do..."

His hand kept moving all over your body. Your heart pounded in your chest, scared of what his response may be. But he never said anything, he just eyed you.

Looking you up and down, his index and ring fingers grazing over your lips. Suddenly, he popped them into your mouth. As if it was a reflex, you wrapped your lips around them, sucking on them sightly. He caught you off guard when he pressed against the bottom of your tongue, making you gag. You turned your head, hoping he'd pull away.

Bakugou chuckled. "Get up for me, baby, and strip."

He let you sit up but not before wiping your saliva off his fingers onto your cheek. You slowly stood in front of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. He leaned back, trying to get a better view of your full body.

Slowly you began to remove your clothes. You felt exposed. Way more vulnerable than you ever had before. You avoided his hungry gaze.

"You know..." he began.

You looked up at him, not stopping the motions of getting undressed.

"Kirishima likes you."

You smiled. "I like him too. He's a good friend."

Bakugou wanted to laugh in your face. Your naivety was cute. He decided to be nice and only nodded in agreement. He watched intensely as the article of clothing dropped to the floor. His eyes studied your undergarments. It was a matching set, in pink. Of course. He felt himself twitch.

He sat up and extended his arm out to your cheek, lightly caressing it. "That's not what I meant."

In a flash, he let go of your face to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back roughly. You whimper, your eyes shut tight. Your hands follow his actions, trying to pry him off.

"Aah! Katsuki, it hurts!" you winced in pain.

"Awe. Awe, it hurts? Yeah?" he mocked your tone before chuckling. "Can't even handle a little hair pulling."

He stood up, towering over you. He pushed you down slowly to your knees, praising you for your compliance. You shivered due to your bare body being exposed to the cold air.

With his other hand, he unbuckled his pants and unzipped himself. You listened to his pants fall and lightly bit your lip. Suddenly your face was pushed forward, being pressed into something hard.

You opened your eyes and looked up at Bakugou. You could see his rock-hard cock through his clean underwear. It curved slightly to the side and he was awfully big... and long... and thick.

You weren't a virgin but you weren't very experienced either. You'd never seen one so big before. You doubted that you were able to take that in any capacity. Not in your mouth, not in your pussy either, but you wanted so badly to impress him.

You rubbed your cheek against his dick, making him breathe out slowly. Bakugou pushed your head aside, harsher than he expected, and pulled down his underwear. He grabbed you by your cheeks and looked you in the eyes.

You were so beautiful like that. On his knees for him. Under him, below him; where you were meant to be.

Grabbing his cock, he slaps it against your face before pressing it to your lips. You open up, allowing him to smoothly slip it in.

"Ahh... shit..." he groaned as the warmth of your mouth took in his cock. You try to work your tongue around him as best as you could, his cock barely being able to fit in your mouth.

He gripped your hair in his fist as he began to move against your face, making you choke. The lipgloss you wore had been smeared, staining your mouth; your mascara ran down your cheeks as your eyes watered every time his cock slammed the back of your throat.

"Look at you. Eagerly swallowing my cock- fuck! Such a slut," he sighed.

Bakugou began to go faster, not giving you any time to take a break. You'd never been face fucked before, let alone roughly. Your gagging became more audible whenever your nose brushed against his pubes. You needed air, but he didn't give you any time to take a break.

You slapped his thigh a couple of times, trying to signal him. He understood; he just didn't care. Finally, he showed some mercy and pulled your hair back to allow you to breathe.

You gasped and cough. You let out unsteady breaths and it was hard for you to catch up to your normal pace of breathing. This didn't last very long though as Bakugou pried open your jaw, shoving his fingers in your mouth once again, this time reaching your throat. You choked again, more tears falling from your face. He kept his hand there for a few seconds, studying your pathetic attempt to please him. When you began to cough again, he pulled out.

"Impressive. Where'd you learn that?"

You felt your body growing even more tired than it was before. You opened your mouth to breathe, only for him to spit directly into it.

"Swallow."

You obeyed. His saliva slid down your throat with ease as you swallowed, and then you opened your mouth to show him. He smirked and stood up. You watched him lift you onto Kirishima's bed, positioning your head to dangle off the bed, facing the closed door.

You felt his tall, strong body leaning over yours as his mouth explored every inch of your skin. His fingers, still soaked with your saliva, slid off your panties and ran along your entrance. You were undeniably wet, and it was embarrassing. How easily you got wet. Bakugou thought it was adorable.

At first, his fingers rubbed just on top of your throbbing clit. You moan out softly, your hands moving down to his hair, playing with it a little. Your back arched at the sensation, causing him to push down your hips to keep you still.

"Look at yourself whoring out for me. You should be ashamed," he said.

He was right. You should have been ashamed. But... you weren't. You couldn't think straight, all you wanted in that moment was for him to be inside of you.

You lifted your head to watch him only for it to be put back down as his lips came up to kiss your neck. His fingers went faster, and you felt yourself squeeze around him. More moans came out of you as you concentrated.

His kisses, his fingers, his hot breath, his body.

Kisses, fingers, hot breath, body.

Kisses, fingers, breath, body.

Kisses, fingers, breath-

"M' gonna cum!" you cry out.

Bakugou faced you, his sharp canines showing as he laughed at you. You threw your head back and he lowered his face to nibble on your neck. You mumbled out incoherent words, on the verge of cumming.

A loud moan comes out of your mouth and immediately Bakugou pulls out. Your eyes widen, looking at him.

"No, no, no," you whined.

He ignored you and slapped his juices-covered hand over your face, pushing your head down yet again. It was too much for you. The pain of the bite on your neck went unnoticed when he forced his hips in between your legs, pulling you against him. He lined up his swollen cock with your cunt, slapping it a little. You moaned as he got himself wet with your juices mixed in with his precum.

He entered you without a warning and you screamed at the discomfort. You put your hands on his chest, whining. "Go slow, please!"

His gaze at you visibly softened. "You want me to be gentle, hm?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "Y-yeah... yeah..."

He whined just like you did. "Yeah? You want me to be soft with you? Help you adjust to my big dick?"

You repeated yourself. He smiled, carefully moving some strands of hair from your face. "You're so cute."

He slammed into you, instantly making you wail. His thrusts were slow, but hard. It hurt so bad. You whine in pain as his fingers went down to play with your clit again, laying a couple of smacks on your cunt.

Tears streamed down your face. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you'd ever felt before. Your cunt was already sensitive, now paired with Bakugou's hand around your throat, and the pain slowly letting up, you felt so good. You were in heaven.

Bakugou's groans mixed in with your moans filled the room along with the sound of his balls slapping against you as his thrusts became even harder, you couldn't help but be loud, it wasn't like anybody could hear you. Your pussy throbbed around his cock and your back began to arch. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your orgasm. And he noticed it.

He slowed down a bit. You were a little grateful as you were finally able to take him comfortably. But you questioned his change of pace.

"You know," he panted, "Kirishima wants us together."

You continued to moan, only murmuring over and over again how big his dick was, barely listening.

"He always talked about me and you- ugh...! Getting together..." he revealed. "Probably something he wants the most..." He lifted your head, putting his forehead to yours. "Let's do him a favor, yeah?"

The tightness on your throat grew tighter, cutting off your airflow, and his thrusts started to become harder again. Your eyes widened as your body struggled under his.

He whispered in your ear while increasing the pace of his strokes. "Be mine, baby. Cum all over my cock."

So you did. Your legs began to shake as your lungs begged for oxygen. Your orgasm was intense, your body squirming uncontrollably. He groaned as your pussy clenched around him for the last time. To be fair, he let go of your throat and your head went flying back over the edge of the bed.

You were officially head over heels for him. You would do anything to stay with him, even if it meant sacrificing your happiness and well-being. And you had a feeling he knew this.

The doorknob of the bedroom turned and the door opened. "Someone broke the damn vase with the-"

Kirishima.

He examined the scene before him, his breaths slowly becoming inaudible and his heart pounding in his chest.

Bakugou’s gaze snapped towards Kirishima, a smirk flashing across his face. "Kirishima. We didn't expect you to come in."

Kirishima ignored him, only focusing on you. His eye twitched as he took note of your cock drunk daze. You smiled innocently at him, your chest pumping up and down deeply.

"Kiri... I don't owe you one anymore."

He clutched his hands together, his knuckles turning white.

"You dumb bitch."

1K notes · View notes

krirebr · 5 months

Text

More Than This 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother.

“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk.

You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.

“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”

Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn.

“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?”

“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”

Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible.

“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”

At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”

Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.

He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him.

“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.

Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called.

Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you.

You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.

When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”

At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.

You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable.

When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”

That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.

“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.

“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.

“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”

You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”

“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”

“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”

That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”

“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”

“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.

“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”

You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”

Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”

You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”

He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”

“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–”

“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”

“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”

Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.

All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”

You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.

“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.

He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.

As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.

For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck.

The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead.

So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to.

Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.

Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom.

He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.

You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”

“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”

He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?” His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering.

Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”

You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say.

He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”

“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.

He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was.

You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.

Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.

He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”

Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”

You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”

You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”

Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”

“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”

“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.

You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”

He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest.

“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”

You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?

“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.

“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”

“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”

At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then he was gone and you were alone.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead.

Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight.

Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”

You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him.

“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”

“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”

He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”

His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”

“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.

As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.

When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.

Part Two

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#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #steve rogers #knives out #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this #ce characters

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worksby-d · 5 months

Text

They Can't Take What's Ours

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: You overhear some people talking about your and Andy’s relationship and you don't want Andy seeing that it bothered you, but he's too attentive.

Warnings: Age gap, established relationship, terrible coworkers, hurt/comfort-type vibes, sooo soft.

Word count: ~2,200

a/n: A lovely anon asked if I could write something inspired by Ours - Taylor Swift so this is my take on that <3

Divider by @.saradika

Your hurried steps come to a pause right outside the door to Andy’s office. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in, but can’t get yourself to let out more than a few shallow ones.

Normally you’d be elated to have an excuse to see him for a few seconds in the middle of the day, but you know as soon as you walk in his face will drop. You can only conceal so much from him. He knows you too well and will see your bad day written all over your face, even if you are somehow able to muster a fake smile real quick.

Walk in, grab what you need, and walk out, you tell yourself.

Someone turning the corner into the hallway you’re stalling in is your final push to finally walk in so no one else passes you and wonders what you’re doing outside his office.

Your eyes are on the ground, but you hear his voice, telling you he’s on the phone. You’re able to let out a discreet breath of relief as you reach for the file you came for and quickly turn to walk back out.

The doorway is within reach when you hear him tell whoever’s on the other end of the call that he needs to put them on hold for just a moment.

“Y/N?”

It’s not like you to be in such a hurry with him. He caught a glimpse of your face and just needs to know you're okay.

Overly conscious of the fact anyone could be in earshot, you answer with, “Yeah, Mr. Barber?”

He knows for certain now that something's off since you didn't just use his first name. There’s zero reason for the formality right now.

You avoid turning back to him, but he’s a step ahead of you, making his way across the room to gently grab you before you can walk out. He swiftly closes the door so there's no chance of anyone seeing you guys.

“Stay, please,” he asks, letting go of you for just a second so he can step back to his desk to pick the phone back up and let them know he has to call them back.

He waves his hand for you to follow him into the meeting room connected to his office for a better sense of privacy.

“What's wrong?”

The concern lacing his voice makes you feel bad, and you know he'll stand here with you all day if he has to to get something out of you.

“I'm fine,” is the best you can offer.

You haven't allowed your eyes to meet his once though. He brings a hand up, using his fingers to gently move your head so you're finally looking at him. Your eyes look puffy and your makeup looks different than it did this morning, like some has been rubbed off.

“Have you been crying?”

“Can we talk about it later, please?”

He pauses. He doesn't want to wait until later. He wants to help make you feel better now.

“I promise I'm fine, I just need to get back to work.”

A small defeated frown tugs at his lips.

“Okay… Later,” he says softly, but it's stern too. He’ll hold you to that.

He leans to give you a quick kiss before walking you out, but you turn your face so his lips land on your cheek.

He holds back from pressing it any longer though, following as you walk out so he can open his door for you.

“Meet me back here later so we can decide where to have dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” you nod, forcing a small smile before leaving.

He’s never ready to leave on time, so you walk into his office quietly when you come back at the end of the day, not wanting to interrupt anything.

“Hey…” You speak softly to get his attention.

He looks up right away, greeting you with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

His glance lingers, taking in the sight of you looking better than when he last saw you. Your eyes aren’t swollen anymore and you’re not so tensed up.

“I knew you wouldn’t be ready to go yet,” you laugh a little, closing the door behind you before making your way across the room to sit on his lap.

“You know me so well,” he teases. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

Truthfully, he’s not getting any closer to being done, only pretending to finish up while he waits for you to address the elephant in the room.

When you don’t say anything, he breaks the silence for you.

“It’s later… You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, letting out a short laugh. “Not really.”

He has a hand resting on your thigh, holding you in place. He strokes his thumb gently telling you he’s ready to listen.

“I overheard some people talking about us today when I walked by one of the breakrooms,” you start.

Finally looking into his eyes, you expect him to start asking questions, but his brows just knit together, waiting for you to go on.

“About how they don’t get us, assuming I’m somehow using you,” you recall. You wish you would have just walked away, but you couldn’t. “And something about you not being able to date anyone closer to your age because no one older than me would put up with your baggage, or whatever.”

“Who?” He asks quietly, but he sounds serious. “I’ll take care of it–”

“No, please,” you beg softly. “That’ll make it worse.”

“I don’t want anyone around here making you cry.”

“I know,” you chuckle, sniffling a little. “But you doing anything would just give them more to talk about.”

The look on his face softens, and he brings a hand up to wipe a few tears that escaped off your cheeks.

“It’s not like we’re all over each other. It just caught me off guard to hear anyone talking about us, I guess. I don’t know why they would be…”

You’re both conscious about keeping your relationship private at work. You’re aware that most people probably know you’re together since you come in together and show up to events together. But most days you go without seeing each other at all until you meet like this to go back home at the end of the day.

“Sounds like they need more work to do if standing around talking about other people in the building fits into their schedules…”

“Andy,” you laugh a little, shaking your head at him. “It’s okay. I don’t know why it bothered me so much.”

He lets it go, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead.

“I know what it’s like to hear people talking behind your back…” He says softly.

Of course he does. Anything you heard is minuscule compared to what he’s probably dealt with before.

He kisses the sympathetic look off your face. “I know what’ll make you feel better though.”

His hand leaves your leg so he can reach into one of his pockets, pulling out your engagement ring. He only proposed a couple days ago and you haven’t worn your ring at work yet, but you ask him to hold onto it for you so it’s not laying at home.

“Can I give this back to you?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, holding out your hand for it.

But he insists on putting it on your finger for you. “Let me.”

You smile at the diamonds glistening back at you, but it quickly fades as you look back up at him.

“I’m sorry I don’t wear it here yet,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to,” he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He knows it’s not insecurity about your relationship. Your yes when he asked you to marry him a few days ago came out faster than he could have ever hoped for. It doesn’t cross his mind to question you over leaving it off just these few hours each day. He knows you like to keep things private, that you’ve never been one to overshare at work. It’s a wonder how he somehow broke through your guarded exterior all those months ago and became such a big part of your life.

“I love you.” You kiss his cheek and move to get up. “I’ll let you finish up.”

“No, this can wait,” he says, quickly tidying up his desk, and gets up behind you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your hand instinctively finds his, intertwining your fingers as you walk out together. You freeze for a split second though. “Oh– We didn’t decide on dinner…”

“I got it figured out,” he assures, giving your hand a squeeze to keep you walking.

The car is quiet as he drives, your exhaustion from the day setting in now that you've gotten away from work. You let your heavy eyelids fall closed, only as a means of resting your eyes, but the way you jump when you feel Andy’s hand on your shoulder, you figure you did accidentally fall into a light sleep.

“We’re here.” He gently shakes your shoulder before getting out of the car so he can walk around to open your door for you.

You kind of knew where he was taking you based on the direction he headed when you left work.

Luckily, he and you share a favorite restaurant. You frequent it as often as you can, the staff always joking that you're keeping them in business each time you walk in the door.

You know something is up when the hostess at the front doesn't walk you to a table though.

“I know where we're going,” Andy winks at her and she just smiles, laughing at the questioning look you flash at each of them.

He swaps which hand he's using to hold yours so his other can rest on your lower back as he guides you to one of the secluded corners. None of the tables are being used except one that’s set nicely with some candles and already has glasses of water and appetizers on it.

“Is this for us?”

Andy laughs at how you do that thing again where you stop in your tracks and he gets tugged back too because he's holding your hand.

“How did you do this?”

“I asked them very nicely and promised a lot of big tips for everyone who helped set it up,” he explains, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you. “I called shortly after you were in my office earlier. I just wanted a nice evening alone with you.”

“You're crazy,” you whisper against his chest, letting out a small laugh.

“Maybe,” he teases, dropping his hands from your back to grab yours again to bring you to the table.

You pull him into the same side of the booth with you before he can pretend he doesn't want to.

As soon as you're settled, a waiter is greeting you guys, helping move the plate and set of silverware on the other side of the table to the side you're both on.

“Can I get either of you something else to drink?”

“Uh, yes,” you chuckle, definitely in need of alcohol after the day you had.

Andy orders a drink too and expects the waiter to walk away right away, but he looks back to you.

“Could I see your I.D. quick, miss?”

“Oh! Yeah–” You have to dig through your bag to find it.

“You don't wanna see mine?” Andy scoffs, joking with him. “What are you saying, man?”

“I mean, if you wanna show me yours too…” He laughs, holding up his hands as if to say by all means. “But I believe you.”

“Unbelievable–”

You playfully swat at Andy. “Leave him alone.”

Reaching across with your card, you tell the guy to ignore the pity party he's throwing.

He likes to joke about these things, but you can tell he goes through small bouts of seriously realizing he's getting older.

“Don't pout,” you tease, bringing a hand up to his face to physically turn his frown upside down.

“I'm not,” he grumbles quietly.

He pulls you closer and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling completely relaxed for the first time today.

“You know what bothers me the most, right?” You break the moment of silence by reflecting on why you were so upset today. “I thought about it on the way here.”

“What is it?”

“It's not about people talking about our relationship,” you shake your head. “I know what we have and it's nobody else’s business. But I hate hearing anyone’s negative thoughts like that about you. You're the nicest, kindest guy and it hurts to hear anyone doubt that or doubt that I'm the luckiest person in the world for being with you.”

“I do have baggage though…” He tries to joke.

“But that doesn't matter,” you chuckle. “Everyone does.”

“Don't you worry your pretty little mind about me,” he whispers, turning enough to urge you to lift your head off of him. “I don't care what they say.”

“I love you,” you smile, leaning to give him a kiss.

“I love you, too.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber imagine #requested

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cleoluvrr · 6 months

Text

fuck up the friendship (rafe cameron x reader)

SYNOPSIS: we're already six feet deep, let's cut the tension

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content

materlist

you entered the party space, the floor packed with people dancing to the music playing through the speakers. you grabbed another glass of water as you and rafe passed a refreshment table. the two of you stood at the back of the room, people watching and enjoying the music in a comfortable silence.

"so...you wanna go dance?" you said as you walked backwards onto the ballroom floor. rafe smiled softly, legs outstretching to follow after you.

rafe dragged you out to midsummers despite your pushback. he told you that it would be fun, but you already knew that he only wanted you to come so he wouldn’t have to be pulled around with his father.

you hadn’t been to the event in ages, parents leaving you behind at home every year since you turned thirteen and outright refused to attend anymore. you hated everything about the dick-measuring contest of a party; the disgusting display of wealth, the suffocating smell of old lady perfume, and the feeling of middle-aged men wrapping their wrinkly hands around your body when your mother would force you to hug them.

you never understood why your family came every year, but deep down, you knew. you guys weren’t rich, at least not when compared to the rest of the island club members. your parents ran a business that the tourists loved, and it generated enough money to send you to private school and pay to be a part of the country club. you’ve lived comfortably your entire life, but your parents had to work hard for that. since they weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth, they felt that they had to prove to everyone that they were just as good.

they come every year to make connections not only for themselves, but for you. they want to give you the chances they never had, so they drag themselves to events like this to make that possible.

so when you told them you were coming for the first time in almost five years, they were elated.

though, not as elated as rafe.

rafe had been your best friend since sophomore year of high school, when he was a junior. you weren’t sure why he wanted to be friends with you; he was older, more popular, richer. you felt as if you were in two different worlds. that didn’t matter to him though–once he set his sights on you, it was already decided that he would take you under his wing.

you always heard that rafe was an asshole to anyone with less money than him, and maybe that was true, but you’d never experienced it. in fact, he’d never been mean to anyone at all when you were around. as far as you knew, he was an angel. one with an increasingly concerning cocaine habit, but sweet nonetheless.

everyone always told you to stay away from him, or wondered how someone like you could ever be friends with him, but you never understood what they meant by it. to you, he was just rafe; your best friend.

"dance with me." rafe says, arms reaching out towards your direction.

"i am dancing with you?"

"no," he says, pulling you closer, "dance with me." he wraps your arms around his neck, swaying the pair of you side-to-side to the rhythm of the music.

"are you feeling better now?" you asked. he was dreading the party for weeks, and he could barely muster up a smile a few hours ago. he hums a yes, a content look on his face as he looks at you.

"you look so beautiful tonight, y/n." you looked down as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "i'm serious. you're stunning."

"i know you're serious. why do you think i'm blushing?" he laughs at that. you could see the smile on his face when you meet his eyes again.

"i make you blush? that's cute."

"shut up." you stepped on his foot, though all he does in response is keep laughing. the two of you remained like this for a number of songs, just enjoying each other's presence.

after being at the gala deep into the night, you decide to call it. rafe says his goodbyes to his friends and a bunch of donors that are acquainted with his father, quite begrudgingly, before he walks you out to the car with him. rafe, with his constant need to show off how much money his family has, chose to have a small limousine pick up the two of you from his house. the driver was standing by the car with the back door open, closing it after you were settled inside.

"that was actually so much fun." you spoke tiredly.

"i told you it would be." he hums from the seat beside you while looking at his phone. you cut your eyes at him.

"you literally begged for me to come because you were dreading spending time with your father. which you ended up doing anyway."

"okay fine," he snorts, "but look at this." he leans in, showing you his phone. he posted a video of you loudly singing to a kehlani song on his instagram story, telling the artist to watch out in the caption.

"i told you to delete that shit, rafe!" you shoved at him in annoyance.

"but it's so cute! i've never seen you smiling like that before."

"yeah, because i'm always around you." he shoves you back, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. he rests his head on you shoulder, grabbing at your hand and playing with the silver rings adorning your fingers.

he pauses abruptly, sniffing strangely. he turns his head, deeply inhaling by the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. the feeling of his breath on your bare skin makes you shudder involuntarily, but you don't react otherwise.

"you smell really nice." he says against your neck, lips brushing your skin.

"i know." you kept your reply short, knowing that if you tried to form a full sentence, your voice will certainly fail you.

"delicious, really." you bit your lip, trying to keep the inappropriate thoughts that have suddenly begun to attack you at bay.

"rafe." you sighed out.

"hm?" the blonde hums. he reaches up towards your necklace, toying with the pendant that decorates your chest.

it was a gift from rafe; a birthstone necklace for your eighteenth birthday.

rafe normally ignored your personal space, but this felt different. it couldn’t be the alcohol–even at his drunkest he never acted like…this. you didn’t have a lot of experience with guys, but you weren’t clueless. you knew that this wasn’t how guys acted with girls they were just friends with.

he took off his suit jacket when he got in the car, the muscles in his arms on full display in the well-fitted button up he wore. his legs looked mouthwatering, muscular thighs straining against the fabric of the slacks keeping them contained. the manner in which he sat with his legs wide open, manspreading, was so tempting.

you wanted to slap yourself for even letting those thoughts come to mind. what was wrong with you? rafe is your best friend.

you blinked a few times, eyes tearing away from the thickness of his legs and back up towards his lightly flushed face. you swallowed thickly, sure that rafe could see the way your throat bobbed from his position at your neck.

"have you been drinking?" the feeling of your heart thumping against your ribcage at a rapid pace only made you feel more on edge.

"no, i'm very sober." he says, his free hand moving to the small of your back.

"okay…so why are you acting like this right now?" your throat bobbed dryly once again.

“have you ever been touched, y/n?”

the question caught you totally off-guard, the nature of it immediately causing you to head up. you almost had to physically stop your jaw from falling to the floor.

"what?" is all you could respond with, more than sure that you misheard him.

"i’ve been thinking…” he trails off for a moment. “you’re almost nineteen, and i’ve never even seen you flirt with a guy.”

“okay, so?” you lick your lips, barely able to get your words off your tongue.

“so…you aren’t worried about going into college being inexperienced?” you shrugged, unsure of what he wanted you to say.

“i’ve never really thought about it.” the words left you softly, voice slightly shaky from nervousness.

“college guys are different, y’know. they don’t like girls that haven’t ever done anything.” he says. “that don’t know anything.”

“rafe…” you whined. you felt humiliated as he pointed out your lack of experience with boys at your age.

you and rafe were complete opposites in that aspect. you never really thought about sex, unless you were in the lone darkness of your room back home. the only guy you ever really thought about was him. he was involved in almost every part of your life, and it was hard to talk to other guys when he took up so much of your attention.

rafe, however…well–rafe got around. there was nothing he hadn’t done, and you didn’t have to ask to find that out. he loved to talk to you about his sexual endeavors, and you always tried your best to drown out all the vulgar details that he never attempted to spare you.

“i’m just asking as a concerned friend, y/n.” his blue eyes flicker up to meet yours, the ocean color much darker than you remembered. “has anyone ever touched you?”

“no!” you were short with your reply again, face hot and feeling flustered. “but that doesn’t–it doesn’t matter.”

“it doesn’t matter?” he sounds skeptical, brows rising to the middle of his forehead. “you don’t want me to teach you?”

“teach me, what?” your brows went up just as far as his. you were met with silence, rafe’s penetrating eyes a replacement for a verbal answer. “i don’t think friends are supposed to do those…things with each other.” you gulped again, the temperature inside your body rising the longer the conversation continues.

“why not? it’s smart to do those ‘things’ with someone that you trust.” the blonde chuckles at the avoidance of explicit language. "why is your heart beating so fast?" he asks, moving the hand that was previously playing with your necklace to where the muscles lies to feel it bang against your chest.

that only makes it beat faster.

"because you're making me nervous." your voice gets caught in your throat.

"i make you nervous?" he asks teasingly. you don't answer. "hm? can you answer me?"

"yes," you whisper, feeling him smile against your warm skin, "you're making me nervous."

"really?"

"rafe." he ignores the callout.

"how does this make you feel?" he presses his lips to your skin, soft kisses ghosting against your exposed neck.

"rafe." he continues his antics, the furnace in the pit of your stomach burning stronger with every placement of his plump lips.

"does this make you nervous too?"

"stop." your voice comes out pathetic and weak. you weren’t sure if you actually wanted him to stop.

"do you really want me to?" your mind is fuzzy, too focused on how he's making you feel. "hm? i will if you do. i just wanna help you…wanna teach you some things. don’t you trust me?" he stops the barrage of kisses to whisper in your ear, patiently awaiting an answer.

you felt like you were going crazy.

you’ve always daydreamed of something like this happening, but that was it. dreams. you’re a hormonal, young adult and rafe is undeniably attractive–of course you would think silly things like that. there's a little voice in the back of your head telling you to snap out of it, to not go this far with a boy that’s been your closest friend for years.

it makes you want to think about how many other people he's done this with, how he's just doing this with you because he just wants to get his dick wet for the night, and you’re the closest girl to him. how you’ve barely even had a first kiss, and how it makes no sense for you to do god knows what in a car with said boy.

the other part of you doesn't care and wants to give in to what he's trying to convince you. it doesn't care that it probably isn’t–definitely isn’t a good idea. that this is so out of left field and completely inappropriate–and that's the part that wins.

"yes." you’re as quiet as a mouse, sure that the sound of the car covered up your voice.

"yes, what?" he asks sweetly, rubbing his lips against the cartilage of your ear.

"yes, rafe, i trust you." you nearly whined, desperate for him to keep going. he smiled, planting a kiss to the ear his lips were resting against.

"good."

rafe goes back to the junction of your shoulder, more firmly this time. sliding the hand on your chest up your neck and to your jaw, he turns it away to gain more access. he leaves rough, wet kisses all over, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

he trails the kisses down further, marks left in his wake as he leaves burgundy hickeys over the tops of your breasts, the skin left exposed by the dress you wore. he moves the fabric of the skirt out of the way, a knee placed between your legs to keep them open as he hovers for a better angle. he pauses his assault, coming up for air. he looks at your frame beneath him, panting, eyes glassy and lipgloss completely bitten off.

"you look so cute right now" you mewled pathetically in response, arching your back to push your chest closer to him in an attempt to make him start again. "calm down, pretty girl. i'm right here." he says.

"rafe, please." you threw your head back against the seat, exhaling deeply. "don't mess with me right now."

"you want me to stop?"

"you're about to make me mad." you groaned, annoyed with his antics.

"i'm sorry, baby." he smirks like something is funny. "you're just so fun to play with." he steadies himself with a hand on your hip, the other one wrapped around your neck, thumbs grazing the center column in an up and down motion.

"you aren’t a very good teacher." you gritted out, utterly frustrated.

"i’m not?" you shook your head. he sits back down in his seat, grabbing you to pull you over his lap. "first lesson. make me hard." he says.

"wh-what?" you stuttered in complete shock, stumbling over one simple word like an idiot.

"do i need to repeat myself?" he begins pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, up the center of your throat, and nipping at your jaw. you moan quietly at the feeling of his lips, pushing against his shoulders instinctively. "make me hard. no guy can fuck you with a soft dick."

you lick your lips, lack of experience leaving you clueless as to where to even start.

reaching around his head to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, you pulled his plush lips against yours in a bold move. you licked into his mouth hesitantly, the taste of mint toothpaste and bourbon hitting your senses immediately. rafe groaned against your lips, fisting the material of the dress in his hands; the bold choice seemed to have an effect on him. you did not go unaffected, the sound released from his throat sending a surge of heat through your entire body.

rafe was patient– letting you bite at his lips experimentally and tease his tongue with yours every now and then. you had no idea what you were doing, and you were more than sure that he could tell.

he pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss with a sudden burst of confidence and passion. it could not be compared to the soft way you were kissing him just moments ago. his roughness against your mouth and the tightening grip he had on your hips did not match his usual sweet demeanor, the fierceness in his motions throwing you for a loop.

“jesus christ. do i even know this guy?” is the thought that hits your mind.

"sit on me." he whines, pulling away briefly. he squeezes the flesh beneath his hands, urging you to sit down all the way.

settling in his lap, you let yourself rest your weight completely on him instead of hovering. rafe grinds his hips up into you when you do this, letting you feel the barely contained bulge in his pants. you sucked in a breath of air, attempting to pull away, but he grabs the back of your neck to keep you from moving. the blonde was starting to take control of the situation again, clearly far more experienced.

you found a moment to pull away eventually, rafe chasing after with a string of saliva connecting your lips. he licks it away, the action sending your mind into a foggy mess of arousal.

"shit. hold on." you said, panting heavily above him. the boy kneads your flesh through the satin material of the gown, running his thumb over your swollen lips covered in our shared saliva.

"what is it, princess?"

"rafe," you ran a hand through the back of his hair, "why.."

"why, what?" he moves his hand back down to your neck, rubbing the bruises on the skin he made a few minutes earlier. "can you use your words, pretty girl?"

"why did you do that?"

"do what? this?" he grinds his hips up into you again and you whimper, falling forward against him to hide your face in his neck. he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss beneath your ear. "i wanted to show you how good you’re doing, that's why."

"i hate you." you muttered against his skin.

"oh, i'm sure you do."

you couldn't think clearly anymore, unable to form a full thought that wasn’t about what's going on in this car right now. you don't know how far you want to take this, but you didn't want to stop either. you'd never slept with anyone, your first real kiss was just given away to the boy beneath you moments ago.

"how much do you want to show me?" you said boldly, surprising the both of you.

"i hope you know what you're getting yourself into." he smiles lazily with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"i don't," you admit, leaning back to your original position, "but that's why i'm asking you to show me." you locked gazes with his, watching as his pupils blow out and his irises darken.

he leans forward and you meet him halfway. he laps messily at your lips and grazes the roof of your mouth with his tongue, the wet sounds of sloppy kissing and heaving breathing filling the silence of the limo. when rafe grips your neck again, he uses the grasp to keep your lips together until he decides you can come up for air.

he steals your breath away and you let him, the insistence of his tongue causing your shared saliva to run down your chin, no doubt ruining the makeup you worked on for hours earlier in the day. moaning against his wet lips, the obscenity of the kiss sent a blinding heat through your lower body.

suddenly, rafe’s hand grazed a nipple through the fabric of your dress. the action made you shiver involuntarily. he brushes over it a few times before covering your breast with his entire hand, squeezing it roughly. your body jerked against his, unable to control the reaction it had to his touch. he broke the kiss, the sound of you whimpering capturing his attention.

"you're so sensitive. do you like the way i touch you? how i take control over you?" he asks with a rough voice.

you were at a complete loss of words. not being used to being spoken to this way, you could only respond with a nod. rafe doesn't bring up an issue with your answer. you felt as your thin underwear began to grow damp, the fabric sticking to your skin as he palmed at your chest.

with glassy eyes, you watched as he groped your clothed breasts, brushing over your pebbled nipples and kissing the fresh hickeys as he worked on making new ones. rafe gazed up at your dazed expression, completely entranced with the unfiltered reactions. he’d never seen you so desperate.

"you're so adorable." he whispers against your neck.

"shut up," you respond. your breath stutters when he pinches a hard nipple through your dress, leaving it tender and nearly making you faint. he dropped his head back down to your chest, wrapping his mouth around your clothed breast. the action left you feeling dizzy, the sting of the pinch went directly to your core, leaving you clenching around nothing as you leaked pathetically into your underwear.

"rafe, stop! you're gonna leave a stain." you whined, pushing him off weakly. he pulls away begrudgingly, clearly displeased with the complaint.

"i don't give a fuck about this dress." he nearly growls.

he switched to the other breast, taking it into his mouth and tugging at the satin with his teeth. he licks roughly at the hidden nipple while a hand sneaks up to yank down one side of your dress, spreading the saliva that seeped through the fabric onto your damp skin. you hissed, the coolness of the air-conditioning causing the bud to harden even further from the wetness. you were desperate to feel his mouth lave across the bare skin. you looked up at the roof of the car, head heavy and feeling drunk with pleasure. he backs away suddenly, his hands frozen in place as he looks at you closely.

"rafe..." he groaned at the sound of his nickname leaving your mouth in such a pathetic plea for him to keep going. you ground your hips down against his in search for something to ease the throbbing between your thighs. you were beginning to lose it–your friend was single-handedly driving you insane in under fifteen minutes.

"what do you want me to do? use your words, beautiful," he looks up at you, his eyes wild and filled with lust. he ran his hands over your thighs, moving the skirt of the dress to expose your bare legs through the slit. you pulled his face towards your chest, lip captured between the sharpness of your teeth. “your second lesson is to tell me what feels good.”

"can you kiss me here, please?" your voice is quiet, embarrassed that you were begging for him to touch you.

your head fell back, all thoughts of embarrassment are gone when he pulls down the top of your dress slowly, releasing your breasts from their constraints. you weren't wearing a bra, the structure of the dress leaving no need for one; you were completely exposed to him.

rafe groans, his lips encasing one of the buds and releasing it with a wet 'pop.' he flattens his tongue against you, moving it in an upwards motion and repeating the action twice more. hovering over your chest, he opens his mouth wide to let his saliva drip down onto you before licking it back up with long drags of his tongue.

your clit pulsed intensely, eyes falling shut at the overwhelming feeling. rafe kept going, sucking and biting at your nipples like his life depended on it. his neat hair was ruined, the repeated gripping and tousling of the locks by you leaving it a complete mess. he groans against you when the manicured nails attached to your fingers scratch at his scalp.

"rafe," he dick twitched under you when you moaned his name, "please touch me. i need it." he hummed in acknowledgement, finally pulling away from your thoroughly dampened chest. strings of saliva connect his lips to your skin.

"are you wet for me, pretty girl?" the way he looks up at you through his lashes with swollen, red lips and a chin covered in his own spit is a pornographic scene.

you recognized the craving in his eyes immediately; they were a reflection of your own. with your usual shyness and critical thinking skills gone long ago, you grabbed rafe’s hand and placed it between your legs, allowing him to feel what he's done.

"fuck..." he cursed, frozen in place.

you squeal when he grabs you roughly, sitting you on one of his knees instead of over his lap. he watches your face as he pushes his flexed thigh up against your core, moving your hips against the tense muscle.

placing your hands on his shoulders, your steadied yourself as the hot pleasure flooded your body. he narrowed his eyes at you, gripping your waist tightly as he slid you back and forth across his thigh.you clung to his forearm at his roughness, the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh both painful and arousing.

"does that feel good, baby?" you nodded, words unable to roll off your tongue properly.

rafe picks you up again, placing you back in the seat of the car. he turns to you and fits his body against your side, hiking the pink dress up and opening the slit to reveal your ruined underwear. he bites his lip as he drags a finger up and down the soaked fabric, in awe at the way it glides so easily. he pulls away, holding his fingers up to your face.

"can you get these wet for me, sweet girl?" you comply, allowing him to place them into your open mouth.

he uses his free hand to wrap around your body, groping at your bare chest from behind. the hand owning the digits that were previously encased by your mouth move back down between your legs. he uses the pads of his fingers to rub harsh, tight circles into your swollen clit, the sounds of your wetness filling the back of the car.

you grabbed his wrist in one hand, feeling your release building quickly.

you tremble against his body and he whispers sweet words into your ear, soothing you with wet kisses on your neck. you grind yourself into his merciless fingers, desperately after chasing your high as the heat spreads throughout your entire body.

"m'gonna cum," you say, on the verge of babbling mindlessly.

"you’re gonna cum already?” he chuckled at your whining, his head shaking. “how cute.”

his movements speed up unexpectedly, rubbing over your clothed pussy with fervor. your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure building so quickly that you couldn’t keep them open any longer. the hand gripping his wrist moves up to his head, holding onto his messy hair for leverage. all of the restraint you had before had completely disappeared, hips jerking sharply into your friend's hand as you reach your peak.

"rafe-" you start loudly. the owner of the name clamps his free hand over your mouth and hushes you.

"we aren't alone, remember?" you nod, biting your lip to keep quiet, but he keeps his hand in place anyways just in case.

you whimper, thighs clamping around rafe’s hand tightly. he continues to palm and rub at your sensitive center, aiding you all the way through your climax instead of stopping despite how much your body twitches against him.

"mmm, you're taking it so well baby. making such a mess for me." you whine at his words, the sentence going straight to your gushing cunt.

the nails of your free hand dig into his arm, and the other continues pulling at his hair harshly in desperation. he groans deeply as he drags out your for his own pleasure, watching as you squirm against his hold, moaning his name pathetically through his palm.

"you're such a good girl for me," he praises into your ear, "so, so good. you learn so quickly.”

you pant against him, chest heaving and a few lonely tears falling from your eyes. you ache for something to fill your empty cunt, the feeling of his hands rubbing at your clothed core no longer enough to satiate the desire. you follow the motions of his hands with your hips now, still in a daze, unable to stop despite the overstimulation.

rafe slips his hand past the waistband of your panties, slipping his fingers through your folds and collecting the wetness that he created. you let out another pathetic whine; the feeling of his bare skin against yours causing your eyes to roll back into your head unconsciously.

"i know, pretty girl." he coos into your ear. he puts his glistening fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing it as he pulls you into a messy kiss. he pulls away, looking at your fucked out expression in awe.

he suddenly glances up towards the window in front of us and lets out a string of curses. you lift your head from his shoulder, reacting in the same way when you look out of the window.

the two of you rush to fix yourselves, the sight of your neighborhood filling the dark car windows. rafe grabs napkins from somewhere in the car, using them to wipe your chin, chest, and thighs clean, apologizing when he touches sensitive areas. he cleans his own hands and face off, throwing on his suit jacket while you adjust your dress back into its original state.

the limo pulls in front of your house, the sight of your parents’ cars and the lights on in their room shaking you slightly. you suck in a deep breath, taking in everything that just happened. you gnaw on your bottom lip, gloss long gone, and swallow deeply.

“what the fuck did i just do.”

you look over at matteo to gauge his reaction, only to find him staring already. you blush and start laughing, which prompts him to as well. your eyes rake over his body, and immediately spot the large bulge in his dress pants. the laughter fades into silence, feeling terrible for leaving him like that. what exactly do you do in a situation like this?

he catches you staring and smiles, head shaking as he laughs softly.

"i'm sorry about..." you trail off awkwardly, not knowing what to say, "that." you decide. he chuckles, moving to a seat closer.

"it's okay, don't worry about it." he says..

"well, um, i guess i should go. it's pretty late." you tell him, reaching for the door handle.

he intercepts, pulling you back towards him gently. he grabs your jaw with a firm grip and kisses you softly, sending butterflies to wreak havoc in your stomach. he massages your lips with his, the sweet movements drastically different from how he kissed you moments earlier. he pulls away, smiling with low eyes.

"i don’t think i can let the college boys have you..." he says softly, his eyes containing a look you’d never seen before.

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