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mephisto-reporting · 8 months ago

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Don’t Die on Me

About: You’re hurt—badly—wounded while shielding him from danger. As he rushes to your side, there’s a shift in his demeanor; he seems different, more vulnerable beneath his usual bravado. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :) Content Warning: Angst, injuries, mentions of blood.

SYLUS

The sounds of gunfire had finally faded into silence, leaving only the shallow, ragged pull of your breath and the press of Sylus’s hand against your side, trying to stanch the bleeding. You had been hit during the ambush, shielding him from a blast intended for his head—an instinct you couldn't explain, or perhaps didn’t want to.

Sylus's expression was a mask of controlled fury, his jaw clenched as he knelt beside you, his usual cocky, unyielding demeanor giving way to something sharper, darker, and far more personal. He applied pressure to the wound with a fierce intensity, almost as if he could hold you together through sheer force of will alone. His fingers, usually steady and sure, shook faintly against your skin.

“You’re a damn fool,” he muttered, his tone laced with anger and something else—something deeper. “I didn’t need saving. Have you forgotten that I can heal quickly!?.”

You managed a small, pained smile. “Maybe I did it for the fun of watching you panic for once.”

His hand gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face to meet his intense, searching stare. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you, kitten?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was laced with something raw, something unsteady.

“I thought… I had it under control.” you mumbled, trying for a smile, though even you knew how weak you sounded.

“Under control?” His laugh was short and sharp, a bitter edge in it. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Sylus hissed through gritted teeth, his usual cool facade crumbling. He never panicked—not him, not the man who’d handed you a gun to his own heart just to see if you’d pull the trigger. But right now, he was faltering, his steps uneven as he pulled you closer. His hand, normally so sure, so controlling, was shaking against your side. “You think I wanted you to jump in front of me like that? What were you thinking?”

You tried to catch your breath, his words slipping past you in a haze. You knew the risks of sticking by Sylus, knew that you’d inevitably end up in danger—but you couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. “Had to protect you,” you whispered, voice barely a thread. “I couldn’t... let anything happen to you.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression caught somewhere between anger and something far softer, something unspoken. “Protect me..?” he repeated, his voice lower, and you could feel the barely-contained fury laced with worry beneath it. He was trying to keep his grip on his composure, but his eyes betrayed him. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he traced the edge of your cheek, the words slipping through clenched teeth. “You’re an idiot, Sweetie. A reckless, stubborn, damnably frustrating idiot.”

His expression twisted, the frustration in his eyes unmistakable, but there was something else too—something vulnerable, barely concealed beneath his usual scowl. You’d seen it before in the softer moments, those times when his hand would linger just a moment too long, or his voice would drop to that rare, gentle murmur. But this was different, more unguarded.

“Sylus…” you whispered, but he cut you off, pressing a hand to your wound. You stifled a gasp as his fingers met the raw injury, his jaw tightening in response, an unexpected flash of helplessness slipping through his mask.

“Quiet,” he muttered, his voice almost breaking. “You don’t get to talk right now.” He ripped off a piece of his sleeve, wrapping it tightly around your shoulder, though his touch was uncharacteristically tender. “This isn’t part of the plan, sweetie. You’re supposed to stay in one piece, just like I ordered.” The usual bite in his voice softened, desperation pooling in his dark gaze.

You chuckled weakly, trying to make light of the situation, but the pain pulled a groan from your lips instead. His expression grew even more intense, the hardness in his eyes melting into a quiet sort of anguish.

“Stop laughing. Stop… smiling like that.” His voice was fraying, edges cracking, a wavering panic he seemed unable to fully control. “You… you have no idea how hard it is not to tear this entire place apart for hurting you.”

The statement caught you off guard, and it must’ve shown in your expression because he let out a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that he’d never let you see before. It was strange to see him so unguarded, the man who played god in the N109 Zone suddenly grappling with the possibility of losing you.

The corner of his mouth twisted, and he tried for his usual smirk, but it faltered. “What would I do without you, hmm? My little hunter, so brave and foolish…” His words softened, and he lifted you as if you weighed nothing, holding you securely against him as he continued on, urgency in every step. “You’re mine, kitten,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

You managed to laugh, the sound weak but genuine. “Then… don’t let go,” you whispered. “Sylus…” Your voice was weak, your head spinning, but you reached up, brushing your fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw. His expression softened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he leaned closer.

“You’re… more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” he whispered, his voice breaking the slightest bit, but he forced a smirk, trying to hold onto his usual bravado.

“Guess I… picked it up from you,” you murmured, your vision growing hazy, but the warmth of his hand grounding you.

His grip tightened, and his lips brushed your temple, an unspoken promise lingering in the gesture. For once, Sylus seemed stripped of his dominance, his bravado washed away by the raw fear of watching you slip away. His hands shook as he held you, his mask cracking with every ragged breath you took. The man who’d taunted and tested you now held you like you were something precious, something irreplaceable.

“Hold on, Sweetie… just a little longer.” he said fiercely, and in his voice, you heard something you never expected from him—fear. “I won’t let anything or anyone take you from me.”

XAVIER

Xavier’s arm is tight around you, steady even as he fights his own injuries. The blood trails hot down your side, and you can barely see it through the blurred edges of your vision, a dark stain spreading across your suit. Xavier’s face, usually a mask of quiet calm, is set hard with a sharpness that you rarely see. Xavier's hands, usually steady and almost uncaring, were shaking as he tried to press down on the wound at your side. You'd taken the hit for him, jumping between him and that blasted Wanderer with a split-second of hesitation—or none at all. He hadn’t expected it. Neither had you.

Blood soaked through his fingers as he crouched beside you, his face tight with a look you’d never seen. Fear, maybe—though he wouldn’t admit it.

"Why... did you do that?" His voice was low, but it felt like he was questioning the universe itself. His usually calm tone was laced with an edge that made you dizzy or maybe it was the blood loss, hard to tell.

“Instinct…?” you murmured, managing a weak smirk despite the pain slicing through you. “I know, I was a bit reckless.”

“Reckless isn’t... you bleeding out on this floor,” he muttered, pressing harder against the wound, a little too hard, but you didn’t have the strength to complain. “You should have left me to handle it.” His gaze softened when you winced, and he pulled his hand back, immediately brushing away the edge of guilt. Yet the blood still glistened darkly on his fingertips, his gloves, on the floor where you lay.

“It would’ve been worse if it got you,” you mutter, trying to summon even a hint of humor, though the attempt falls flat against the pain.

Xavier doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks at you, and the deep space void reflected in his eyes almost draws you in. That familiar aloofness fades, and for a brief moment, his concern seeps through, raw and achingly close. He shifts his weight to press you more securely against him, his free hand gently adjusting the strap of your gear as if every second counts in keeping you here, anchored.

“Look,” you managed, reaching up, even if it took everything in you to keep your voice steady, “you’d do the same for me.”

Xavier’s mouth set in a thin line. You’d hit a nerve, that much was clear. Despite the unspoken rule between you two—the sidelong glances, the unsaid things—he wouldn’t entertain the possibility that he would have let you get injured in this manner on his watch.

“You don’t know what I’d do,” he replied, his voice just above a whisper. His words held a weight you hadn’t expected, making you look at him closely even as the edges of your vision began to fade. “And you won’t have to, because I'm getting you out of here.”

He hoisted you up, careful, gentle, though he flinched when you sucked in a breath from the pain. He started forward, one arm cradling you as he moved you through the wreckage of the battle toward the shelter of the shuttle. It was strange, seeing Xavier so unguarded, every step almost too fast as though he feared stopping would break you.

“Stay with me,” he whispers, voice low. You feel his breath, close enough to count heartbeats, to wonder if his pulse is racing like yours. The space between you feels impossibly small, and the silence stretches, vulnerable, bare.

You manage a faint smile, fingers brushing his, a silent reassurance even as the sharp ache of your wounds thrums persistently in your bones. “You know, if I’d known I’d end up leaning on you like this, I’d have come up with something... cleverer to say.”

To your surprise, he huffs a small laugh, his gaze softening. “You always talk,” he murmurs, with a hint of that familiar, boyish charm, though it’s laced with worry now. “Save your strength. I’ll get us out of here.”

You felt yourself drifting, and his voice brought you back.

“Hey,” he said, tightening his hold. “Stay awake. I can’t have you falling asleep on me now—I'm the one who does that, remember?”

His humor was strained, like he was grasping at something familiar to keep himself steady. You let out a soft chuckle, the sound weaker than you meant it to be. “Guess we’re trading roles today.”

There was a moment, somewhere between one step and the next, where he stopped. He looked down at you, his gaze intense. For once, his expression was completely open—his worry and something warmer simmering just beneath.

“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “Not here. Not now. Not ever.”

You felt a wave of heat rise within, one that made the pain more bearable, somehow grounding. Before you could respond, he resumed his pace, carrying you as if you were the most precious thing in the galaxy.

The world swayed, darkness creeping at the edges of your vision, but you forced yourself to focus on him, on the boyish charm that hid beneath his cool exterior. “Xavier,” you rasped, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

“Just keep looking at me,” he replied, his voice steady. “We’ll get through this together. You and me.”

In the quiet of the shuttle, as he set you down and the medics began patching you up, you felt his hand graze your cheek, lingering just a little too long. You dared to meet his gaze, and for once, Xavier’s eyes didn’t look away. They softened, and the smallest hint of a smile touched his lips.

“Next time,” he said, voice warm with unspoken promise, “let me protect you.”

RAFAYEL

The harsh winds of the remote village howled around you as Rafayel’s face loomed over you, more serious than you’d ever seen it. You hadn’t intended for things to get this bad, but the ambush from the Wanderer had been swift and brutal, and you’d thrown yourself between its claws and Rafayel without a second thought. A mistake, maybe—though you could hardly think of it as a mistake, even now, lying on the cold, unforgiving ground with blood soaking your side.

“Damn it, stop being so heavy,” Rafayel muttered, though his voice trembled, barely hiding the edge of panic. You glanced up, expecting his usual smirk, his smug teasing, something bratty, but his face was blank—frustrated, pale, and determined in a way you’d never seen.

“S-sorry to inconvenience you,” you managed through the haze of pain, trying to keep it light. “But I think I lost quite a bit of blood back there.”

Rafayel’s usual smug charm was gone. His carefree expression had twisted into something you couldn’t place—anger, worry, a flicker of panic as he knelt down beside you. He pressed his hands over the wound, and though it was uncharacteristic, there was no teasing, no insults, just an almost frightening intensity. “You… Why did you do that?” he demanded, his voice low and jagged, as though the question alone might tear him apart. “Do you think I’m some helpless damsel? You could have been killed.”

Your breath hitched, and you were grateful that it could just as easily be the pain causing it. Still, you shrugged, or tried to, but your body had other ideas, and you stumbled. Rafayel caught you, his arm firm around your waist as he steadied you. You managed a weak smirk, though the effort cost you. “Guess… I wanted to make myself useful as a bodyguard, for once,” you rasped, feeling the humor fall flat even as you said it.

“Useful?” His eyes, normally filled with a cocky gleam, were sharp with frustration. “Throwing yourself in harm’s way is your idea of useful?” He gave a dry, humorless laugh, his hands applying pressure that made you wince, though he didn’t seem to notice. “You’re dumber than I thought. The one time I actually need you to stay out of my way, and you—” He broke off, swallowing hard, his fingers trembling ever so slightly against you.

“Don’t… act like you care now, Rafayel,” you murmured, half-teasing, though the words came out weaker than you meant.

His face twisted, and you saw a flash of something in his eyes that you hadn’t expected—hurt, genuine and raw, like you’d struck a nerve. “Idiot,” he whispered, and his tone was so low it was almost drowned out by the wind. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get… what?” You were slipping a little, your vision swimming, but you caught his gaze, and for the first time, you saw past his bratty facade to something deeper. He took a breath, his jaw set in determination, and then he did something you never expected: he carefully scooped you into his arms, his hold gentle yet fiercely protective.

“Stay awake, all right? I can’t have you passing out on me,” he ordered, though his voice had lost its usual bite. His words were soft, desperate, as he moved through the bleak landscape, carrying you with a carefulness that belied everything he usually projected. For a long moment, you stared at him, the pain numbing under the intensity in his gaze. This wasn’t the bratty, arrogant god who’d dragged you into mess after mess. This was someone else—someone who, behind the charm and teasing, was scared. For you.

"Idiot," he muttered, his words a tangled mess of relief and frustration. “Why would you do that?” He repeated.

And you almost laughed, wincing through the pain, because wasn’t it obvious?

“Because… I care,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper. It was the closest you’d come to admitting the truth—to saying what had long hovered between the two of you, unspoken, stubbornly denied.

"Just shut up for once,” he whispered, his voice strained, almost a plea. “You don’t… you don’t know what it’s like.” His arms tightened around you, as if holding you close could somehow protect you from the damage already done. “You… throwing yourself in front of me like that—do you have any idea how reckless that was? I didn’t need you to… risk yourself.”

“Couldn’t let the prince of the art world get scratched up… on my watch,” you said, trying to maintain your humor.

Rafayel glanced down, his usual piercing eyes softening, his expression raw. “If you’d died, I wouldn’t…” He paused, his gaze slipping away, the words seemingly caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” he finished, barely audible.

You managed to brush a finger along his wrist, grounding yourself, anchoring him to you. “You’ll… still have the sea. And everyone to charm.”

For once, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he looked down at you, and his eyes were so intense, so filled with something you’d never seen before. “None of that matters,” he murmured, his voice raw. He shifted, his hand grazing your cheek, lingering there for a moment too long. “Stay awake,” he commanded, a note of urgency threading through his tone. “You can’t just pass out on me. Not like this.”

You blinked up at him, the sunlight filtering through the clouds casting a warm glow around his figure. “Not… gonna pass out,” you whispered, though it felt like a lie even to your own ears. You could see the worry etched across his handsome face, something raw and unfiltered. “You need me for your—”

“Stop it!” he snapped, but there was no bite in his voice, only a desperate plea. “You don’t get to joke around right now. Not when you’re bleeding out.”

“Rafayel…” you began, but he cut you off, a flicker of his old bravado returning.

“Save your strength,” he snapped, though the edge was softened by concern. “I’ll get you out of here, but you have to stay awake. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you managed to murmur, your vision dimming as the waves of unconsciousness tugged at the edges of your mind. “Not without you.”

“Good,” he replied, and his voice was fierce and unyielding. “Stay alive,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, eyes dark with something he couldn’t bring himself to name. “For me.”

ZAYNE

The world felt hazy around you, pain ebbing in and out of your awareness as Zayne held you steady, his hands pressing firmly yet gently against the wound on your side. Blood smeared across his fingertips, but he kept his touch steady, calculating, his focus a perfect picture of surgical precision.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice level, his eyes fixed on you with a fierce intensity. “I need you to keep talking. Tell me if you’re feeling dizzy or lightheaded, alright?”

You managed a faint smile, ignoring the way your own breaths came shallow and broken. “You’re… really good at this,” you tried to joke, but Zayne only shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line. “You should become a doctor...”

“Don’t push yourself to talk. You’ve taken a nasty hit here.” His voice was calm, almost clinical, but you could see the strain in his jaw, the telltale flicker of worry in his eyes. His hands, however, were as steady as ever, working methodically as he inspected the wound, gauging the damage with the supplies he always seemed to have at hand.

“Think of it this way," he continued softly, his calm tone soothing despite the urgency of the situation. "The wound isn’t too bad—lucky hit. If we keep steady pressure on it, there shouldn’t be significant blood loss. You’ll be fine. But you have to focus on breathing for me, alright?”

He was explaining everything, his voice filling the air like a familiar, grounding hum. His hands, wrapped around the fabric of his jacket pressed to your side, were warm, almost protective. You could feel the faint tremor in his fingertips, but he moved with absolute control, unwilling to show even a hint of panic. His gaze flicked up to yours for a moment, his expression softening despite the tension in his features.

“I warned you about being reckless,” he muttered, his tone more of a gentle chide than anything else. “But it’s not the first time, is it?” The slight quirk of his lips, a half-hearted attempt at a smile, almost made you forget the pain. Almost.

“Couldn’t let you get hurt,” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

“Hold still,” he ordered softly, his voice low and steady as he worked to stop the bleeding. His fingers were meticulous, his hands steady, despite the fear you could feel radiating from him. He couldn’t afford to let it show, so he did what he knew best: he relied on the calm, clinical precision that had carried him through countless surgeries. "The wound's not fatal, but you’re going to need stitches. I’d say you’ve torn through the muscle here by… at least an inch or two.” He let out a breath through gritted teeth, looking pointedly into your eyes. “I can’t believe you tried to shield me from that Wanderer."

Despite his calm, you could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear that betrayed itself in the tension of his jaw, in the way his hands lingered just a moment too long against your skin, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

As he applied pressure to your wound, his tone softened, more to himself than to you. “You’re lucky you didn’t rupture an artery,” he said, hands deftly inspecting the injury with precise, practiced movements. “If this were any worse… I’d be looking at a very different situation right now.” His voice wavered on that last note, but his hands stayed steady, not allowing a single tremor to betray him.

“You’re going to be fine, I’m going to make sure of that.” He glanced down at you, his gaze holding an intensity that went beyond the practiced care of a surgeon. “You’re not allowed to play the hero, you know?. And if you’re trying to impress me… then I’d say you’re not required to be reckless for it.”

“Zayne…” you murmured, feeling the darkness pressing in at the edges of your vision.

“Keep those eyes open,” he whispered, his fingers gently brushing your cheek, grounding you in the warmth of his touch. “Stay with me. I’ll… I’ll get you out of here. But I need you to focus.” His thumb gently stroked your temple, his touch tender yet steady as he leaned close, his forehead resting lightly against yours, just for a second, as if grounding himself, too.

You managed a faint smile. “Didn’t know you were the boss of me, doc.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t look up. “Believe it or not, I have plenty of experience bossing you around.” He kept talking, his voice low and clinical, grounding you in the familiar, steady cadence

“You always said I was a terrible listener.” Your voice softened as you felt his hand linger, his thumb grazing your skin in a gesture far more affectionate than necessary.

“This isn’t funny.” He met your gaze then, a look so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. “Breathe,” he instructed, his voice calm and steady, despite the chaos swirling around you.

You could see the fear lurking in his dark eyes, a stark contrast to his composed demeanor. But it didn’t matter; his touch was methodical, reassuring, his fingers steady as they pressed against the injury.

“Zayne… the others—”

“Forget them.” His voice was firm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of panic as they darted around the shop, assessing the situation even as he tended to you. “I need you to focus on me. You’re the priority right now.”

You could feel the warmth of his hand against your side, but it was not enough to push away the chill creeping into your bones. “But—”

“Enough.” He pressed down harder, and you gasped, but he didn’t relent, his expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “You can’t help anyone if you bleed out here. So please, stay with me.”

The adrenaline coursing through your veins faltered, and all you could think about was how you had protected him—how you had jumped in front of the danger without a second thought. The sight of him, typically unflappable, now uncharacteristically tense, pulled at your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to form the words.

He shook his head, an intensity burning in his gaze. “Don’t. You’re not allowed to apologize. Not when you’re the one lying here, bleeding out for me.” He brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch lingering. “I’m not letting you leave me. You hear me? We still have so much left to do together.”

You could feel the world slipping away, darkness creeping into your vision, but his voice anchored you. “Hey… Don’t let go.” he murmured, using the nickname he reserved for the most intimate moments. “I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.”

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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tetsumie · 11 months ago

Note

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

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sunarryn · 3 months ago

Text

DP X Marvel #17

One week. One fucking week. That’s how long it took before the universe’s reality collapsed in on itself like a toddler knocking over a block tower made of cosmic rules, and Danny Fenton—sorry, High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, Keeper of Balance, Ghost King of All Dimensions, Supreme Bureaucratic Overlord of Death and Souls, or whatever other bullshit title Clockwork slapped on him—was done. He was so done. With everything. With life. With afterlife. With bureaucracy. With math. Goddamn, he hated math.

He phased through the ceiling of what was left of the Avengers compound without so much as a knock because, frankly, he didn’t care anymore. People were dead. Everyone was dead. Half a fucking universe. And universes are fucking infinite. Literally. He’d been counting. Or trying to. But the math broke somewhere around “nine trillion decillion” and his brain short-circuited.

Inside, the Avengers were scattered around like bad leftovers. Steve was slouched in a chair like someone told him America lost the war. Thor was cradling a bottle like it was the last warmth in the world. Natasha looked like she hadn’t blinked in hours. Banner was trying to fix a coffee machine that had already given up on life. Tony—oh, Tony—Tony looked like he’d been held together with duct tape and sarcasm, and not the good kind.

“Yo,” Danny said, arms folded, crown floating behind him, cape swishing dramatically like it had beef with gravity. “Which one of you assholes thought wiping out half an entire goddamn universe was a great idea?”

They blinked. Steve slowly got to his feet. “Uh… who—?”

“No. Shut up. Don’t talk. I’m not in the mood. I haven’t slept in a week. Time doesn’t even exist in the Infinite Realms, and I somehow managed to be late to ten meetings that haven’t happened yet. Do you know what kind of eldritch administrative nightmare I’m dealing with? Do you?”

Tony blinked. “Not really, no.”

Danny whipped around to face him, pointing a glowing finger. “I don’t care, Stark. I don’t care that your kid sidekick is dead. I don’t care that half your team is sad. I don’t care that your billionaire ass is depressed and growing a sad beard like you’re auditioning for ‘Survivor: Superhero Edition’. I have literal oceans of paperwork made out of the screams of the damned piling up in my inbox because some purple California Raisin thought committing universal homicide was a vibe.”

“Hold on,” Natasha said, standing now, brows furrowed. “Who even are you?”

“I’m the janitor,” Danny deadpanned. “Of death. And you—you are all on my shit list.”

Steve opened his mouth.

“NO. I said no talking. Do you know how many souls half a universe is? Do you? BECAUSE I DON’T. THAT NUMBER DOESN’T EXIST. That’s not even math anymore, that’s heresy. There are species no one even knows about! I had to learn seven extinct galactic dialects in five minutes just to sign their death certificates!”

“Wait—wait,” Bruce said, cautiously stepping in like someone trying to defuse a bomb made of feelings. “You’re… the King of the Afterlife?”

“Infinite Realms,” Danny corrected. “Afterlife implies one dimension. I’ve got infinite. One of them is just an endless IKEA. You think you’re in hell? Try getting lost in that one for eternity.”

Tony blinked. “That explains the floating crown.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Danny snapped, sarcasm thick. “Yeah, the crown’s real subtle. You know what else I’m wearing? These.”

He held up his fingers. On them gleamed the actual Infinity Stones. Not the ones Thanos used. No, these were the OG versions—before the universe dumbed them down for mortal brains.

“I’m wearing multiversal cosmic artifacts as fucking accessories, Stark. I clapped death back into submission on my way here. I threatened Time itself with a lawsuit. I am so tired.”

Everyone was staring now. Thor slowly lowered his bottle.

“I have one question,” Thor said, eyes narrowing. “Can you bring them back?”

Danny didn’t respond immediately. He paced, muttering under his breath about soul processing queues and spectral overflow reports and ghost union strikes.

Then he turned, threw up his hands, and shouted, “Fine! Fine! But only because if I see one more Ectoplasmic Reconciliation Form I’m going to scream my own name and rip reality in half!”

Tony raised a cautious hand. “Just to clarify… you’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

Danny glared at him. “I am doing this because your collective idiocy has backed up the Infinite Realms so badly, I have ancient god-beasts getting angry Yelp reviews for not guiding souls fast enough.”

Bruce choked. “You get… Yelp reviews?”

“Do not ask. Do not google ‘Spiritual Bureaucracy Yelp.’ You’re not ready. It’s worse than you can even imagine.”

He clapped his hands. The power reverberated like a sonic boom made of lightning and bass drops. Light cracked through the floor, time folded, and space rewrote itself. In an instant, everything was back. People. Planets. Souls. Loved ones. Unsnapped. Safely. No one reappeared in traffic or mid-air. They were all fine.

Everyone stared.

Tony gasped. “…Peter?”

Somewhere in the compound, Peter Parker screamed, “MR. STARK I THINK I DIED?!”

Danny muttered, “Yeah, well, get in line, kid.”

Tony looked like he might cry. Steve looked like he might cry. Even Thor blinked back tears.

Danny didn’t give them a second to bask.

“Listen to me and listen hard, because I am only going to say this once. The next time you idiots let some glorified space grape get his hands on cosmic power and kill half the universe, I’m not bringing anyone back.”

Natasha stepped forward. “Wait—what—?”

“I said,” Danny growled, eyes glowing green and crown sparking violently, “the next time this happens, I am going to let the universe rot. I don’t care if it’s your kid, or your moms, or your emotional support dog. You will live with it. You will suffer. Because I’m not spending another week cleaning up your mess like the goddamn galactic janitor!”

Tony muttered, “Kinda thought you said you were the janitor.”

“I will kick your kneecaps off.”

Tony shut up.

Danny took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going home. Do not call me again unless the universe is actually ending. And even then, it better be certified by at least three gods and signed in triplicate.”

He started floating upward, preparing to phase out, when Steve blurted, “Wait, thank you. Really.”

Danny paused mid-air, sighed, and turned around. “You’re welcome. I guess. But seriously. If another genocidal space maniac so much as coughs on the timeline, I’m filing a restraining order on this entire dimension. Bye.”

And with that, he vanished in a swirl of ectoplasmic smoke, leaving the Avengers staring at each other in the awkward silence that followed a divine ass-whooping.

Thor finally muttered, “I liked him.”

Tony sat down, blinked a few times, then said, “He just wore the Infinity Stones as rings. Like mood jewelry.”

Bruce nodded solemnly. “He’s not paid enough.”

“Was he even paid at all?” Steve asked.

And somewhere in the realms between life and death, Danny Phantom screamed into his pillow made of souls: “I AM NOT GETTING PAID FOR THIS BULLSHIT!!!”

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x marvel #danny phantom fanfiction #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fandom #crossover #danny phantom fandom #mcu fanfiction #marvel fandom #marvel fanfic #infinite realms #ghost king danny #ghost king phantom #infinity stones #the infinity saga

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navydoves · 3 months ago

Note

It is absolutely hypothetically and totally unrelated to the new bug in the game... how do you think the lads men would kiss? My men looked hungry

Love your writing style!!

How the LADS men kiss

a/n: thank you for the submission!

✎ᝰ this is technically the second submission in my inbox, but since this is shorter i’m posting this one first. the first submission is an actual, full length one shot of sugar daddy sylus and sugar baby mc so stay tuned!

✎ᝰ don’t be afraid to submit anything, i’ll answer all. tysm!

࣪𖤐

Xavier

• for xavier, it depends on his mood. sweet and tender moments? think 21 days. careful with your face, cupping your cheek gently and initiating intimacy with his eyes before he even leans in. he’s careful not to push you, but if you’re reciprocating, he’s in. he always wants more.

• in these tender moments, he kisses slow, soft grunts and moans escaping his lips and filling yours. he’s a big head tilter, making sure he gets all angles of your lips against his, tasting every millimeter of what you have to offer. his hands aren’t stagnant either. they’re on your head, shoulders, nape, guiding you and making sure you two are in a rhythm.

• but when he’s horny, oh boy. think his nightly rendezvous card. his kisses are still soft and gentle, but absolutely filthy. he’s not the type to inhale your lips, no, he’ll take his sweet time with them and make sure you’re slowly building an ache in your body. his tongue is sliding against yours, flitting against yours, playing against yours like he’s trying to slowly shove it down your throat. there’s saliva everywhere once (if) he pulls away.

• xavier is also a fan of kitten kisses. he’ll kiss everywhere on your face and neck before diving back into you. he wants to cherish every part of your available skin before treating himself to your sweet taste again. contrary to popular belief, xavier is not as aggressive as people make him out to be. he’s very sensual with everything he does, he’s going to ensure you’re only thinking of him by the time he moves down lower.

• and xavier is not quiet either. his voice is soft and drawn out with each moan but it’s so absolutely erotic. almost like he’s hitting mini-orgasms every time he’s kissing you. he’s insistent the longer you two kiss, pushing you down and holding your jaw firmly to keep you from moving too much. by the first kiss you two shared, he already knew how to slot his lips against yours to ensure that every bit of your spit would be shared by him. TDLR: he’s super sensual and erotic.

Zayne

• zayne kisses like he’s got something to PROVE. he holds you still by your hips and no where else. he loves putting his hands on yours hips and just going to town. he’s a short kisser typa guy, meaning one kiss of his will never last that long. he’s very chatty during any type of intimacy, so he’ll pull back and praise and tease you before going back in.

• each new episode of a kiss is better than the last. he gets so worked up over time, seeing your face so flushed and shy as he speaks his sultry words to you. especially when the two of you are alone and he doesn’t have to be so cautious because of others. he loves pinning you somewhere and just getting his fill of you. pinning, not restraining. he wants you to have enough movement to see you shake and shudder under just his lips.

• zayne does not devour. yes, like i said, he is insistent but he’s never forcing his mouth on yours or eating your face up. he focuses on your lips rather than your tongue. in each kiss he’ll lick them, nibble on them, playfully press his tongue with yours and then pull back. sometimes he’ll focus on sucking one lip, other times he’ll focus on both and making you really feel his need.

• one thing about zayne is that he loves the sound of making out. he secretly really enjoys how wet and sloppy it sounds, so he will purposely wet your and his lips more just to hear how slick you two sound. call it an indulgence, but it really turns him on, especially when he pulls back and sees how glossy your mouth looks.

Rafayel

• needy kisses are rafayel’s specialty. even with a peck on the lips, he’s following his head toward yours for more. they’re often times more sweet than horny (i don’t think rafayel is the type to get horny that easily) but they manage to make you a little horny.

• rafayel is a lip nibbler. he fixes his lips into yours and suck and bites little nicks onto your skin just enough to make you yelp. it’s his way of subtle dominance and also his entertainment. he always enjoys it when you bite him back or whine at the teasing pain, but he knows you like it. of course he has to soothe those little bites with more kisses, so he takes your lips back into his and sucks on licks on them all needy.

�� rafayel also really enjoys tongue. he doesn’t mind if you take the lead in the kisses and suck on his tongue, or if you let him do it, as long as someone is getting sucked on. he likes the warm, wet feel of your tongue against his and he likes teasing you with it too. especially when he’s horny, rafayel will lock your forearms in his hands and stumble with you as he insists his lips onto yours and his tongue into your mouth.

• he’s also a whiner and a groaner. each kiss, he’ll have to cup your face with his hands and ensure that every noise he makes is swallowed by you. his kisses are very devoted, like they were only made for you. for rafayel, there’s no need to go halfway. if he’s gonna kiss you he doesn’t want a peck, he wants a few good kisses that leave him breathless and yearning for more. his lips dominate yours most of the time, but he will more than gladly let your lips take control. in fact rafayel likes it when you take the lead and now you’re the one pushing him back, holding him still, sloshing your saliva in his mouth. he encourages it.

Sylus

• he eats you… but respectfully. sylus is all about guiding and leading and being a gentle dom. sylus’s lips and mouth are much bigger than yours, so naturally, when you go in for a kiss with him, he ends up taking the lead. but another thing about sylus’s lips is that they are really plush and soft, almost uncharacteristically so. it’s really enjoyable kissing him considering there’s so much to kiss there.

• he holds the back of your head or wraps his hands around your waist and makes you submit to his movements. you set the pace (how deep/sloppy/slow/fast you want it) but once you do, he’s all about control. his tongue will slide into yours and overwhelm you from how big it is. he doesn’t need to try much, he has you whimpering just from a few slides and sucks.

• sylus also gives off bumping foreheads. he’s so into the kiss that he’s subconsciously leaning into you and bumping his nose and forehead into yours gently. it’s affectionate as much as it’s a sign of pleasure. because he’s so into it, though, sylus gets majorly kiss drunk. the way your smaller lips nibble and lick on his, it really does it for him. he responds by taking one lip and sucking on it while keeping eye contact with you before moving his tongue back into your mouth. seeing how flushed you are is another thing that really arouses him.

• sylus groans into every kiss and he needs noises from you too. that’s why he likes to bite you here and there for a squeal. but most importantly, he needs moans. if he can make the kiss sloppy enough by slowing down your movements and really making you taste his needy lips and dripping saliva, then he will. and, aforementioned, he guides you the whole way through. he makes you take his spit but not in a degrading way, in an intimate manner where you’re learning his taste and he’s learning yours.

Caleb

• alright putting his ashy, dry ass lips aside caleb is a very good kisser. and by that i mean you can feel every single emotion in his body through a kiss. if he’s frustrated, upset, angry, aroused, cheerful, elated, you can find it all in a kiss—and that’s the way caleb communicates. he’s a physical touch type of person, so his emotions and vulnerability splay out and spill into your lips.

• that being said, one common denominator between most of caleb’s kisses is that they’re very passionate and loving. it is hunger, yes, but it’s not lustful. he’s not kissing you to get a rise out of his cock, he’s kissing you so you can feel good and he’d be elated if you took it further. he lets you go first, he lets you set the tone of the kiss because he’d literally kill himself if he overstepped your boundaries.

• similar to sylus, when he feels like it’s okay with you, he goes in with unrelated need. he’s a big head mover, position tester, lip dancer—whatever it may be. he doesn’t like staying in one position because he always feels like there’s more to explore. if he’s not tasting you like a dinner he’s doing something wrong. he goes from side dish to side dish in your lips, sucking and licking and kissing within seconds of each other.

• and then, he’ll pull back, rub the spit on your bottom lip around and smile at you and your pink expression before slowly going back in for more. he likes to build momentum most of the time if he’s not down right needy. if he’s horny then he just goes right in as long as you’re okay with it, but in the quieter, slower intimate moments, he slots your lips with his and builds up the make out session with kitten kisses and licks, then gentle lip sucks, then gentle tonging, until he’s ultimately a mess from how long he’s been pleasuring you.

࣪𖤐

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aeyumicore · 9 months ago

Note

hey I love your stories (I live on them). Can I make a request? Can you write a Zayne Fic where the Zayne is tired and she is giving him a massage but that massage escalates into a full blown love making. But Zayne is letting her top him, he let's her take control while he sits back and enjoy the so called massage. Squeezing his chest and then teasing him by squeezing his thigh muscles and maybe his *cakes* too...hehehe

know better

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ WORD COUNT: 2.2k unedited | ao3

━ .ᐟ✧ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, massage m!receiving, reader tops zayne, spanking, unprotected seggs, butt fondling m!receiving

━ ✧.˖ A/N: in honor of zayne's main story branch <3 again i don't typically take requests but i may start doing shorter scenarios like this! so feel free to send them :) hope everyone is having a good zayne day!! i haven't done the new story yet, but plan to soon! i don't mind spoilers so feel free to yap in my messages or inbox. this is not edited.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

“Let me take care of you.”

Zayne should have known better than to trust those angelically unassuming words, his devilish little minx. But the thought of your delicate fingers kneading into his tense bundles of muscles, after he’d been on his feet for a 10 hour surgery, was too heavenly to give up.

He should’ve known you were up to something when you straddled him in just your panties, claiming you didn’t want to get your shorts greasy with the self-heating massage oil.

“Sweetheart…” he’d warned as your hands danced down the arch of his lower back, hissing as your nails grazed the contours of his back muscles. The feeling of your bare thighs sitting against the sensitive skin of the underside of his ass was enough to have him growing harder by the second.

He definitely should’ve known you were up to no good when your fingers cupped his rear, digging in so perfectly that he couldn’t help the sinful groan that escaped his lips.

He tensed so adorably that you couldn’t help but continue to rub soothing circles into the plush mound of his ass. His strong glute muscles would squeeze every time you came close to the edges of his cheeks, daring yourself to go further.

“I should’ve known you were up to no good,” Zayne moaned, his words muffled as his face pressed into the towel you had laid out on your shared mattress.

You giggle, using your nails to gently rake up and down his rear, biting your lip as you can visibly see the goosebumps form on his pale skin. You bend down to press a kiss into his waist, dangerously close to unchartered territory.

Luckily for him, you save that for another night. Though it wasn’t necessarily something Zayne was opposed to, he was far too exhausted tonight to indulge in such unfamiliar endeavors. For tonight, he just wanted to submit to the pleasures of comforting intimacy.

Though he couldn’t deny, the idea of exploring new heights of pleasure with you left him flustered and excited, evident by the way his now painfully hard cock was pressed into the bed as you straddled him.

You begin to kiss up his spine, pressing your lips into his shoulder blades as you whisper into his neck.

“Does it not feel good?”

Zayne groans at your feigned innocence, his face turning to the side to try and catch your lips as they breathe into his sensitive neck. Your presence was having the opposite effect on him. With you around, he was more pent up than ever.

But to his dismay, you pull back with an adorable grin on your face, returning your attention to the task at hand.

You get off his thighs, “Turn over, please.”

Zayne hesitates, but knows better than to deny you. You had him wound so tightly around your fingers that there’d be no point to try and hide from you. Hide the way he was very much…pent up.

So when he finally does turn over, he doesn’t even try to cover his angrily erect cock. It stands so proud against his stomach, demanding attention.

Zayne sits up on his elbows, his abdomen quivering as he breathes heavily. His eyes, intense and smoldering, watch you carefully, anticipating your next move. Glistening beads of pre drip down his cock like a melting popsicle, as if daring you for more.

“Well? Will you take care of me, my love?”

And that was a request you could absolutely never refuse.

Zayne’s skin is slick against yours, creating the most filthy clapping of skin against skin as you bounce on his lap. His face is buried in your chest, teeth capturing your poor and abused nippeles as he holds you tight, his thick forearms wrapped around your waist.

He fights to keep his thighs still, wanting to let you “take care of him” like you so desperately asked to do. Though you have a paced rhythm, he wishes you’d go harder.

Zayne leans back against the headboard of the bed, relinquishing your sweet and tender skin from his lips. His eyes can’t help but wander south, watching your thighs quiver as they bounce eagerly on his own bulging muscles.

“You’re doing so well, beautiful,” he praises with starstruck eyes, hypnotized by the ripples of your thighs against his cleanly shaven pelvis. Your body never failed to amazon him, even as a physician and surgeon. The way your perfect taut walls could take all of him in; it was nothing short of mind-blowing.

“Y-Yeah?” you whine, body tightening at the surgeon’s praises, “Does it feel good, Zayne?” Your hips roll furiously against him, eyes falling into your skull when his curved cock strokes against your spongy g-spot.

“Ah – You’re just what I needed,” Zayne grunts, eyes now watching the way your beautiful breasts bounce, right in front of his face like a damn taunt, “You’re dangerous.”

Your hips stutter at the guttural growl in his tone, his throat bobbing as he watches you, “What do you – ahngh – mean?”

Zayne grips your chin to steady your dreary head, watching with an amused glint in his hazel eyes as you start to lose yourself to the please, your rhythm faltering.

“I don’t expect people to be accepting of the idea that their surgeon is thinking about this,” Zayne grabs your clit, his hand slipping between your oiled bodies, “When he’s treating them.”

Your body convulses against Zayne’s expertly twisting fingers, as you nearly double over at his lewd confessions, “N-No! Let me.”

Zayne chuckles, knowing you want to be the one to take care of him.

Reluctantly, he removes his fingers, settling his palms on your waist instead, looking up at you with all the wondrous adoration in the world reflected in his eyes.

“Show me, sweetheart. Show me how you want to take care of me.”

His demanding purr fuels you with a need to prove yourself, your hips moving with renewed eagerness. With every roll of your pelvis, you clit brushes against the forming stubble on his crotch, sending sparks of pain singed euphoria straight into your core. It fizzles all throughout your body, making your fingertips numb with a pleasure you’re all too familiar with,

A pleasure Zayne has brought upon your body too many times to count.

Zayne groans at the feeling of your slick smearing messily against him, your bodies so slippery and sweaty with torrid pleasure. Though he wished he could take control, show you how badly he needed to pound against your cervix, force his way into your womb, watching you so prettily sob as you bounced atop him was nearly just as blissful.

Your soft skin shines so beautifully before him, a heavenly light reflected against your resplendent curves. Zayne is so suddenly consumed with the need to feel your plush flesh against his itching fingers.

He takes two fistfulls of your ass, biting the inside of his cheek as he watches you with hooded lids. The sounds of your moans in response to his possessive hold ignites him with the need for more.

So as you rock onto his thick manhood for all he’s worth, his palm comes down onto your ass with a force that makes your entire body quake. His hand comes down so strongly against the globes of your rear that the massage oil on your skin splashes, creating darkened splatters on the fabric of Zayne’s expensive comforter.

You’re so surprised by his actions that your bounces flutter to a halt, your throat eliciting a choked squeal of surprise and arousal. Your fingers dig into Zayne’s shoulders, the sting of his hand spider webbing from your ass, spreading all the way up to your spine.

Zayne nearly cums right then and there, feeling just how excited and tight your cunt coiled against his cock, from him spanking you. But he bites his cheek, fighting the way his manhood fights to release inside you and the way his fingers itch with the need to spank you again.

“So tight,” he chokes out, cock lurching inside you, fighting against how fucking good you feel against him, how tightly you’re wound by him spanking you, “Hah – do you like it when I do that, sweetheart?”

Zayne had never been aroused by the idea of inflicting pain on you, even during sex. He’d never had the urge to spank you, never really saw the appeal in it. The most sadistic tendencies he had when making love to you was to grab your throat, squeezing just barely enough to make you whine.

But now as you tighten in excitement in response to him smacking the soft fat of your ass, nodding so damn eagerly, as if you want him to spank you more…it’s enough to turn Zayne into a sadist.

So when you falter, nearly coming undone by the surprise of his demanding palm, Zayne’s hand comes down on you again. On impact, his fingers dig in, grabbing two handfuls of your luscious skin, forcing you to rock onto him. He helps you up and down, fingers soothing circles into the stinging skin that he’d struck.

At this point you’re no longer doing any of the work, Zayne’s strong hands jostle you up and down, fucking you onto his cock like his precious little doll. Your body is far too gone, far too delirious from your newfound obsession with the way Zayne can blend pain and pleasure. You’re only capable of fucked out sobs, your head coming to lean against Zayne’s muscled chest as you come ever so close to your release.

As Zayne rubs soothing circles into your prickling skin, he whispers huskily into your ear.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs, voice tinged with his own desperate need to release, “I’m always thinking about the next time I get to be inside you.”

“But I want to take care of you,” he pleads, giving your ass one last gentle smack, as if he can’t hold his hands back from the feeling of your delicious skin, “Will you let me do that?”

Zayne lifts your chin to look at him, his golden green eyes shiny with a fervent desperation, expecting you to answer him even though you were clearly in no state to speak.

When your mouth flaps open and shut, Zayne chuckles, pressing your head back into his warm chest, cradling you so gently as if he wasn’t actively rearranging your guts. He buries his face into the top of your head, enjoying the way your pheromones invade his senses and fill him with the animalistic need to mark you with his cum.

“I’m going to fill you up, okay?” he breathes into your hair, “Don’t waste any of it.”

You nod vigorously, relieved you can finally let your orgasm take over.

“I-I can take it all!” you squeal as he bounces you harder, desperate to cum himself, “I’ll be good Zayne, please!”

A growl rips from Zayne’s throat as a deafening smack! reverberates as he spanks you one last time, “Yes you can, that’s my girl.”

As the sting ripples out from your ass, you come so violently undone all over Zayne’s lap, the wet paps of his continued movements making your release smear everywhere.

Between that and the massage oil, it’s a slippery and moist mess of unfiltered heat. Zayne doesn’t take long to follow behind, pressing his lips to yours hungrily as he shoots inside of you. He’s so eager that his teeth knock into yours, but you barely notice, only focussed on the way his seed fills you, his cum so contrastingly hot compared to the icy feel of his skin against yours.

Zayne squeezes you so tightly against his body as he comes undone, making it nearly impossible for you to breathe. His moans are choked, strangled as if he himself is struggling to breathe. His hands slowly come to a stop, cock stilling as it spurts its very last drop.

Your bodies heave against one another, Zayne’s breath hot against your ear. He presses a languid kiss into your pulse, sighing in bliss.

With the last of your strength, you use your fingers to dig gently into Zayne’s back, trying to smooth out the remaining knots in his muscles. Your head is still propped against Zayne’s pecs, your thighs caging his, and your cunt still snugly wrapped around him.

Zayne groans at the feeling, “What are you doing?”

You mumble tiredly against his heartbeat, “Need t’finish your massage.”

Zayne curses, grabbing a hold of your wrists in his long and slender fingers. You look at him in surprise, eyes wide in question.

“I’ve had back to back surgeries every night this week.”

“I know,” you tilt your head in confusion, “That’s why I want to finish your massage.”

Zayne sighs in frustration, before leaning into your neck, your wrists still captured by his grasp.

“Do you have any idea how…starved I am? You’re provoking a ravenous animal right now.”

The realization of just how touch-starved Zayne has become this last week sinks in. How even the innocent touch of your hands against his back has him alert and ready inside you. Your stomach flutters.

“Then…let me take care of you.”

And even though Zayne should have known better, he can’t help but once again give into the whims of the woman who had him utterly and completely wrapped around her finger.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months ago

Note

You would hit BELIEVE how happy I am that you’re writing fics for Declan O’Hara he’s my new DILF obsession!!! Also it was so well-written and in-character, oh my goodness!

I was wondering if I could request a fic where Declan and female!reader are having an affair, and she’s super nervous because she’s Taggie’s best friend. She meets Declan one night in his car, and he calms her down and, obviously, they have car sex.

Ending this with a huge I LOVE YOUR WORK

Shut Up and Drive.

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. cheating. declan and his dirty mouth. one use of the c word. overuse of the nickname sweetheart.

word count - 3k

authors note - the minute he put that baby blue t shirt on… I was suddenly on my knees. funny how that happens. can’t and won’t stop with the fics for this man. I am riding the rivals train to the ends of the earth, baby. thanks for being so sweet, anon <3

masterlist. inbox.

The phone is shaking in your trembling hand, cord all tangled where you keep twisting it around your finger nervously.

“Hello?”

You almost drop the receiver at the sound of that familiar Irish accent, despite the fact that you were the one that rang him. It has your stomach churning, in a different way than usual.

“H-hi,” you barely whisper, before clearing your throat and trying again. “Hi. It’s me.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he breathes, as if it’s the first time he’s taken a lungful of air all day.

“I, um… I’m sorry to call you on the house phone. I know it’s not how we do things usually.”

“It’s alright. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just, uh… I called to say that I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I would have told you in person, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you next, so.”

“Can we-” he begins, before lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, “-can we talk about this properly? Please?”

“We can’t. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. One conversation. You’re not ending this in a quick phone call on a Wednesday night, you hear me?”

You inhale deeply, biting at your lips. There’s pure anxiety radiating through your body, prickly and unrelenting.

“I hear you,” you murmur down the receiver. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “I’m gonna come and get ya - we’ll go for a drive, alright?”

“Sorry you have to lie,” you whisper, guilt colouring your tone.

“I’d lie for you a thousand times over.”

His words shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as they do, but alas. Here you are.

“I’ll put some shoes on.”

“And a coat. It’s cold as fuck tonight.”

You half laugh, half snort at him down the phone, dreamily imagining the grin he most likely has painted on his face listening to you.

“Yes sir,” you tease, giggling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll drive up without my headlights on. Look out for me, yeah?”

“I will.”

I always do, you think to yourself. I always do.

The line goes dead abruptly, the buzzing vibrating straight into your temples. You slip your shoes on, quickly fixing your hair and touching up your makeup in the mirror in the hallway while you’re there. You shrug your arms into your coat at Declan’s orders, knowing he’d tell you off if you turned up without it on.

You’ve almost forgotten the entire reason you called in the first place was to break things off with him.

Almost.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

True to his word, Declan drives up your road without his headlights on, slowly and with practised precision.

You’re waiting at the window for him, patiently anticipating the sight of that stupid yellow car. You’re out of the door in seconds as soon as you see him, bounding towards the passenger side and slipping in before anyone notices. He drives off quickly, not taking any time to say hello before he’s taking off out of the town and towards the rolling countryside.

You drive for a good fifteen minutes, to a spot the two of you frequent on your drives. It’s a dirt track, leading to nothing but fields for miles on end. Declan pulls the car around the bend and out of sight from the busier road, knowing that it has more than enough privacy. You’ve never been caught here before, and you don’t plan to start.

Finally turning off the engine, he turns to face you, taking in how the moonlight illuminates your features in the lowlight of the car.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

You’re refusing to look at him, knowing that if you do, you’ll surge over and kiss him until you’re both dizzy. You can feel his gaze on you, though, intense and unwavering. As it always is.

His thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his determined brown eyes. You’re willing yourself not to crumble, but you can feel your resolve starting to slip already.

“I missed you,” he whispers, careful not to spook you.

“I missed you too,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Shit.”

He chuckles, and the low timbre of it settles right in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s all this about then, hmm? The phone call?”

“What did you tell Taggie? Where did you say you were going?”

It’s your least favourite part about all of this, the lying. Lying to Taggie, to Patrick, to Caitlin, to Rupert, to your friends, to your family. Coming up with excuses has become second nature - something you hate about yourself now. You hate how it comes so naturally to both of you these days.

“Told her I was going to meet someone about some potential research for a show. She had evening plans anyway, she’s off out to Lizzie’s.”

You’re fiddling with your fingers, picking at your nails in a nervous habit as you chew your bottom lip. If anxiety was personified, it’d be you.

“You avoided my question. We need to talk about what you said on the phone, sweetheart.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your seat to face him properly, going over the speech you’ve practised in your head dozens of times.

“Okay. I’m… I’m not sure we should do this anymore. I- I just… I feel guilty. For lying to Taggie, mainly. And because you’re technically still married, but mainly for lying to Tag. She’s the closest friend I have, and I’m sleeping with her father. It makes me a terrible person, Declan. I have to put a stop to it.”

He processes your words for a moment, looking at you intently.

“Do ya want to?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to? Put a stop to things? Or do you just feel like you should? For other people.”

You want to lie, tell him exactly what you had planned out, feed him what you know will work. But you can’t. You can lie to everyone… except Declan.

“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “But I should. We should.”

“Why now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”

“No, no. I just… Taggie said something really sweet the other day about how she was glad that she had me, because making friends here hasn’t been easy for her. And it should have made me happy, and instead, it broke my heart.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Declan cradles your face in his rough hands, resting his forehead against yours. It’s like the whole world melts away for a moment, leaving just the two of you in the tiny yellow car.

“I’m a horrible person,” you mumble. “And a horrible friend.”

“You’re speaking as if it’s just you. And it’s not, you know. There’s two of us in this affair - I’m just as guilty as you are.”

“Fine then. We’re both horrible people.”

He chuckles, breath tickling your face, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. His lips are brushing yours every time he speaks, meaning you can practically taste the cigarette smoke and spearmint on his tongue.

“I never claimed otherwise,” he retorts, still smiling.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit as his thumbs sweep back and forth across your cheekbones. “It’s weighing down my conscience, and I don’t want to hurt Tag. But… I can’t give you up, Declan. I need you. I need you more than anything.”

“You make me crazy. God, I think about you night and day, sweetheart. My thoughts revolve around if I’ve seen you and when I’m going to see you next.”

“So what do we do? I can’t quit this. I can’t quit you, I can’t quit us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers… I wish I could make all your worries go away. But I can’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just… I thought that I could do it in one clean sweep. Get it out the way, you know? Call you, end things, be done. And then the minute I heard your voice over the phone… I knew I couldn’t do it. Because deep down, I didn’t want to.”

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, desperate to be close to you.

“Declan.”

“If I could fix it all for you, I would,” he murmurs against your skin. “You know I would.”

You pull back to put some distance in between you, watching him carefully for his reaction to what you say next.

“You should break things off.”

He flinches as if you’ve punched him in the stomach.

“What?”

“You should. I clearly can’t, so you have to be the one to do it. Do it, Declan. End things with me right here, right now. Please.”

Your tone is weak and unconvincing, as if you can’t even bring yourself to say the words with any conviction.

“I can’t,” he confesses, voice breaking on the last word. “I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling it slowly as if he’s buying himself some time. You wait patiently for him to continue, nerves frayed at the edges.

“Because I love you.”

Now it’s your turn to flinch, his admission smacking you across the face violently.

“You-”

“Yes. I love you, sweetheart. It’s taken me a while to figure all of this out, but I know it now. That’s why I’ve never been able to end this. Because it’s not just incredible sex… it’s something more. Something real.”

There are tears welling in your eyes as you look at him, watching the way he lays his heart on his sleeve in the moonlight just for you.

“I’m scared,” you confess. “I love you too and it scares me.”

You don’t miss the way his face lights up as you say it, but he’s trying to keep a careful lid on his emotions for now.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to ya. You know that.”

All you can do is nod in response, digesting everything that has happened in the last five minutes. You do know that. He’s proven time and time again that you’re not just some fleeting fling to him.

“Declan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Now he grins like an idiot, eyes alive with adrenaline and hope.

“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”

You tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning in to gently press your lips to his, wanting to seal the moment. He kisses you back sweetly at first, before taking control with more force, slipping his tongue into your mouth cheekily. You happily let him take the lead, sighing in contentment as you melt into him.

“C’mere.”

Climbing over onto his lap, you hinge your legs on either side of his in the drivers seat, straddling his hips. You try to straighten up but end up hitting your head on the roof of the car, which makes you both wheeze with laughter.

“This car is too fucking small,” you grumble, rubbing the spot that you smacked.

“Y’alright? Want me to kiss it better?”

You hate the way the teasing tone in his voice shoots right to your core, shaking your head in defiance.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Patronising bastard.”

“I like it when you get your claws out,” he chuckles, tracing patterns on your thighs over your jeans. “S’hot.”

You kiss him again to shut him up, biting at his bottom lip in punishment. He groans all low and slow, which makes you grind your hips into his, despite the multiple layers of clothing separating you.

“Backseat,” he whispers, pushing you off of him gently. “More room.”

You splay yourself across the wide back seat, opening your legs so Declan can slot in between them.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he prompts as he shrugs off his own jacket and undoes his belt.

You can’t help but chuckle at his impatience, happily taking off your coat and jumper and unbuttoning your jeans. Your breath catches in your throat when you look back up at him - he’s wearing the Venturer t shirt that hugs his biceps just right, accentuating every delicious muscle he has to offer you.

“Wore it for you,” he mutters against your lips. “Know you like me in a t shirt.”

You roll your eyes but kiss him with determination anyway, all teeth and tongue and clashing bodies. You’re clawing at his clothed shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist to buck your hips into his.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Lying awake at night thinking about your thighs, your tits, your cunt.”

All you can do is sigh, fingers digging into his biceps in desperation.

“Wish I could take my time with you like you deserve. These quick fucks just aren’t the same.”

He sounds almost upset about it, voice staying deep and low.

“Remember that time I stayed the night? And you couldn’t walk in the morning?”

You laugh breathily, thinking back fondly to that night a few months ago. You’d both orchestrated it so carefully, crafting cautious lies and fabricated stories to snatch a good sixteen hours of time together.

“Need that again soon. Might have to start sneaking ya into my house in the dark, make you climb the gutters like we’re in a film. Although, it is a bit hard to keep you quiet.”

You try valiantly to ignore the heat that flushes across your chest as he teases you, knowing that he’s right.

“Declan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You grab his hand and shove it down your underwear, jeans trapped around your thighs. There’s very minimal room in this tiny car, but you’re both determined to make it work. He groans when he feels how wet you are, swiping through your core.

“Fuck me. Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Since this afternoon,” you whimper, trying to grind down onto his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about when you ate me out on my kitchen worktop last week. My legs were shaking for two days afterwards.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, slipping a finger into you as he drops his head onto your shoulder. “I got myself off thinking about that yesterday. I swear if I concentrate, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

All you can do is whimper, desperate to have him in any way you can. The fact that you have the same effect on him that he does on you makes your head spin, dizzy with want.

“Don’t make me wait,” you beg, cradling his face so he has to look you in the eye. “Fuck me, please. Please, Declan.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll give ya anything you want. Anything.”

He shuffles around so he’s sat back on his knees, pushing his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself. You spread your legs as wide as you can, trying to give him as much room as possible. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position in this car with him - and it won’t be the last.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, licking across your teeth with his tongue. “Most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

He slides into you with ease, both of you gasping at the familiar sensation. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, pads of his fingertips biting into your flesh.

Declan doesn’t waste any time, setting a relentless pace that has you bouncing across the seat. The car is shaking like crazy, all the windows fogged up - anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside.

The man above you can read you like a book and play you like a fiddle. He knows the exact angles of his hips that’ll have you keening, the certain spots to focus on that’ll have you seeing stars. He knows you better than anyone, in more ways than one.

“That’s it,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Atta girl. Taking it like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was,” you breathe, tipping your head back to give him access to your neck. “Just for you.”

He groans all melted and golden like molten honey, the vibrato of it rumbling through your bones. You’re holding onto him for dear life, as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this reality. When his thumb finds your clit to rub firm, slow circles, you’re convinced you’re floating on another plane of existence.

The only word you can seem to formulate is Declan, which only pushes him closer to the finish line. He’s determined to get you there first, angling his hips upward to hit that one spot that has you gasping. When he moves one hand to your throat and gently squeezes, you fall apart instantly, taking him with you.

“I love you,” he breathes as he comes, forehead resting on yours. “My girl.”

You’re shuddering and shaking as you lie underneath him, panting like you’ve just ran ten miles. Declan collapses on top of you, laying his head on your chest comfortably. Your fingers rake through his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp like you’ve done so many times before.

You both allow yourselves to close your eyes for a minute, recovering and attempting to catch your breath. You’re convinced, for a moment, that you’ll never feel more peaceful than you do right now. You breathe each other in, satiated and content.

You finally open your eyes, expecting to see nothing but fogged windows and starlit darkness. Instead, you see a man bending down, looking straight at you. Arguably the worst possible person that could see the two of you in the position you’re in.

Rupert Campbell Black.

He’s grinning like an idiot, shaking his head in disbelief.

You’re about to warn the man in your arms when Rupert opens the car door, slipping himself into the drivers seat and spinning so he’s facing you. Declan has jumped out of his skin, jolting upwards to cover you as best he can.

Rupert smirks all dirty and knowing, eyes dancing over your half naked forms.

“Well, well, well. Secrets out, lovers.”

@graceflorence @dionysus-drabbles

as aaaaaaaalways… reblogs are golden!! they’re the currency of tumblr, my loves. you reblog, and your favourite writers will write you more fics. simple as that. mwah. <3

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touchme-teezme · 2 months ago

Text

I'm Sorry.

PAIRINGS | collegeboy!seonghwa x fab!reader

TAGS | plot with some porn, strangers to lovers, one night stand situationship, idk man he came over to build legos, there’s some attempted flirting and teasing, lots of making out, lots of tongue, unprotected vanilla sex, seonghwa lowkey a bop, bruh i am so bad at tagging bye i give up

RATING | NSFW 21+ (Minors pls DNI/if it makes you uncomfortable don’t read thx)

SUMMARY | Seonghwa needed a break. He also decided something had to change — and that led him to a few unexpected places in one night, including something dangerously close to his disaster feelings and while you were clearly the escape, he ran the other way.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | …hey…. how y’all doing?… sorry i was getting cheated on and also started a really important internship. It just ended (the internship and the relationship) so… we’re so…back? Thank you for being so sweet in the inboxes, this was a long one. i finished editing during valentine’s day i think? i was thinking about hwa’s slutty fingers after seeing that one concert video and ugh my mind went places oK omg i will shut up now. Bye, enjoy.

Inspired by 'Do You Like Me?" by Daniel Cesar. I have been listening to that NEVER ENOUGH album so much lately.

💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

This was going to be the first and last time Seonghwa ever took advice from Jung Wooyoung.

In his defence, he’d hit a new low. Lower than rock bottom. Which is why the resident exemplary student, honour roll with a self-imposed 9 p.m. bedtime was standing outside the hottest nightclub in Itaewon, sporting a fresh haircut and an outfit entirely stolen from his roommate’s wardrobe.

His dating life chewed him up and spat him out, and now he was determined to do the absolute most to cope. He was hurt and hell-bent on distraction from whatever the fuck was even going on in that part of his life.

How he ended up getting ghosted by his situationship wasn’t nearly as baffling as how Wooyoung had somehow convinced over half their friend group to spend their Friday night here, of all places. They weren’t really party people — well, half of them weren’t. The ones who were into it had conveniently been excused from showing up.

Yunho, on the other hand, had been on the dance floor non-stop, while Wooyoung played hype man from the booth, cheering him on like it was a solo concert.

Wooyoung nudged Seonghwa’s shoulder with his knee from the top edge of the booth like a gremlin surveying chaos.

“Dude, she’s been staring at you all night.”

Seonghwa shot him a flat look. “And?”

“And,” Wooyoung slid down from his perch and dropped onto the seat beside him with a dramatic sigh, “Yunho and I are taken, and those two are a lost cause.”

Seonghwa glanced across the table. Hongjoong looked like he was losing a battle with sleep, while Yeosang scrolled through his phone, sipping from Hongjoong’s drink. He hadn’t smiled once all night — clearly here for the same reason Seonghwa was: moral support. But the chaos of the club made heart-to-hearts impossible.

“That leaves you,” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly. “Dude. She’s hot and interested. You’re hot and miserable. Classic rebound opportunity.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung shrugged. “But I’m also right. Just look.”

He reached over, grabbed Seonghwa’s chin, and turned his head toward the bar.

And there you were — leaning back with easy confidence, swirling your drink, eyes locked on him with a smirk that stole the air right out of his lungs.

“Trust me,” Wooyoung grinned. “She’s perfect for helping you forget that loser.”

This would go down as the second and definitely the absolute last time Seonghwa ever took advice from Jung Wooyoung. Five minutes later, he’d been kicked out of the booth with one order: Don’t come back without her number.

That’s how he found himself now, seated next to you, drink in hand, trying to remember how to function like a normal human.

“Not a fan of clubs?” You asked, leaning slightly nearer to him to yell over the loud music.

“I hate it. I think I’m having an identity crisis,” He blurted out as he shook his head, the liquor loosening his lips faster than his brain could catch up.

You laughed, but not unkindly. “I'm sorry to hear that. Well… I don’t live far if you wanna have some peace and quiet.”

“Oh. Uh…”

“I…have a cat, too. She loves company if you like cats.”

Your invitation slipped past his defences smoother than the drink in his hand. One last sip, and he was already on his feet—jacket in one hand, your purse slung over the other shoulder.

That was all it took. Seonghwa couldn't help but wish it was the way you were looking at him or how your skirt was riding up coincidentally the longer he sat next to you. But nope, it was the thought of being able to distract himself and pretend like this night out never even happened and getting him far away from whatever this hellscape was.

Clubs really weren’t his thing.

He barely registered the triumphant double thumbs-up from Wooyoung or the way Yunho covered his dropped jaw as he watched the two of you walk out together.

Seonghwa’s heart pounded so hard it echoed in his ears. Taking a cab to your place with a confident, effortlessly cool girl like you was far outside his usual playbook. For a second, he wasn’t even sure what to say.

Thankfully, conversation came easily to you.

The ride melted into light chatter about university — shared gripes about professors, mutual hatred for certain classes. You discovered you were in the same course but at rival schools, which only added to the banter. There was laughter, playful jabs, and an unexpected comfort that settled between you.

By the time the cab pulled up to your place, Seonghwa was far more at ease than when he’d left the booth.

Your apartment was warm and cosy, lit with soft golden light that cast slow-moving shadows across the walls. Seonghwa stepped inside and hesitated in the middle of the living room, awkwardly stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, unsure of where to stand or sit.

You smiled as you hung up your coat, amused by his stiffness.

“Relax. Make yourself at home.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Sorry.” He took in the space again, then gave you a sheepish look.

“So… is this the part where you admit you don’t actually have a cat?”

“Would you be mad if I did?” you teased, stepping a little closer.

His heart stuttered. He opened his mouth to respond, but then-

“Oh, shit!”

His eyes went wide as they landed on something across the room — a pristine box of a Lego orchid set sitting on the coffee table. He practically rushed over.

“I’ve wanted this for so long!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, his excitement too endearing to be upset over what the box represented.

“Oh, yeah. It was a birthday gift for someone… but I never got to give it to him. I was going to return it tomorrow or something.”

He glanced down at the box in his hands. “Have you ever built a set before?” he asked suddenly.

“I don’t have the patience for Lego,” you admitted.

He held out a hand, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “This one’s easier than my last build. We’ll be done in no time. I promise.”

Somewhere between sorting bricks and swapping stories, Seonghwa realized he was actually getting to know you. What started as throwaway chatter had spiraled into a shared spiral; bad dates, worse decisions, and the Valentine’s Day disasters that landed you both at that club.

Now sitting cross-legged beside you, he was down to the last few pieces, fitting them together with ease —until your voice cut in again.

“I still think it’s insane how yours just ghosted you,” you voiced your opinion once his story was over as you laid on your stomach, “If I was in that position, I’d be running for a second chance, like that wouldn’t have even been a question.

Seonghwa’s hands faltered, fingers tightening around a tiny brick as he felt heat rush up to his cheeks. He let out a breathy laugh, snapping one of the last pieces into place. Then, a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it was my fault. I come on too strong sometimes and… it just didn’t work out.”

“Which is exactly why I think it’s crazy,” You clarified, with your chin resting in your hands, propped up on your elbows. “Like, if I had you chasing after me? Wow.”

You were only yapping away, if anything it was to keep yourself awake. You let out a quiet chuckle at the absurdity of saying something like that to someone you literally just met, but you caught the way he was looking at you. And maybe… the way you said it didn’t sound so hypothetical anymore.

His fingers tightened around the last brick in his hand, looking down at it.

“…What would you do?” he suddenly asked, the words slipping out before he could think them through. “If I was chasing you?”

You shrugged, still focused on finishing your flower, but there was something different in the air now. You could feel it. The way his voice had dropped, how his eyes lingered just a moment too long.

“I don’t know… anything you’d want. Like, come on.” You tried to brush it off with another laugh, but even you could notice the shift in the air between you both.

“Come on… what?”

He didn’t laugh back. Instead, he leaned in a little, just enough to close the space between you. His gaze was intense as it focused on you but the question still hung in the air.

You slowly looked up at him, you knew exactly what he was doing.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, barely above a breath.

He huffed a quiet breath, trying to ground himself. “You didn’t invite me here for some peace and quiet, did you?”

You felt your carpet under the palms of your hands as you sat up, still watching him. “Technically… I invited you back for peace and quiet away from everyone else.”

“To do what?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” You couldn't bite back that smile. “Me inviting you is one thing, but why did you come?”

He didn’t respond, just held your gaze. You leaned in and your fingers found his jaw, light and slow. With that, you closed the gap, pressing your mouth firmly against his. Your hands roamed down his hard chest, tracing the contours and marvelling at how he flexed beneath your touch.

A low moan escapes his throat as he returns your kiss with equal fervour, his hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your tongues moved together, exploring every nook of each other's mouths.

The kiss momentarily broke for him to trail his lips along your jaw. You slowly rose up from your knees with his guidance. His hands firmly on your sides with no signs or intentions of letting you go just yet. His lowered eyes focused on you as you helped him out of his black tank top, throwing it off over the jacket he laid out neatly on your couch.

You took his hand straight to your bedroom door. Opening it, your tuxedo cat jumped out before making its way to the zip line for the kitchen where her bowl of water and food was waiting. You turned to Seonghwa who looked back at you, delightfully surprised.

“So you do have a cat.”

“I was lying about her being a fan of people though,” You shrugged. “Come on.”

He smiled as he looked down at you, his gaze locked on yours with a mix of curiosity and anticipation and as you both reached the edge of the bed, you gently pushed him down onto the mattress.

His lips pressing together nervously as his eyes drank the sight of you stripping down.

“Have you ever done anything like this?”

“Yeah… just not… it’s been a while…” Seonghwa was blabbering.

He was in the middle of an internal battle, wondering if this was a mistake. You were just nodding along to his words, finally slipping out your skirt before straddling him, hooking your arms behind his head to continue kissing those lips of his.

Seonghwa was without a doubt a kisser. He knew exactly how to do just how you like it, how to hold you and move his tongue – the way he moved with yours with practiced precision sent shivers down your spine.

It was no wonder you were already getting soaked between your legs, and he wasn’t even naked… but he was hard, and from how he was rubbing it up against you, you could tell he was more than eager.

His kisses felt tender yet intentional, and it was driving you insane. He was holding down the sides of your throat to kiss your neck and collarbones.

“Fuck, Seonghwa please—“ You reached down to the bulge clearly wanting to be freed, looking up at him when he had you pressed against the mattress on your back.

It felt good to be wanted and to be desired. He wasn’t lying when he said it had been a while, especially with someone like you, who carried yourself with such certainty.

“Shhh… let’s take our time.”

His hands found their way onto the mounds beneath the lace of your bra which he had pushed above your breasts teasing your left nipple with fingertips he had wet with his tongue. Your knees pressed together, as he showered the other one with feathery kisses.

He took your hand from behind his head, intertwining it with his fingers before planting it right above your head. When his skilled tongue found its way against yours again, you had to let out a deep moan in his mouth — especially with his fingers teasing your slick folds through your panties.

“Oh my god…” You rubbed up his arm in encouragement.

“Where do you want me, beautiful?”

You swear you could’ve melted from how gentle his voice was and how his eyes were glossing at you.

“Anywhere.” You unhooked your own bra out of sheer impatience, getting chills from how he smiled at your shamelessness. “Everywhere.”

“Let’s start… here.” His hands dipped in between your legs.

Seonghwa's hands moved with a confident grace, exploring every inch of your core with a precision that spoke of practiced skill. His thumb traced gentle circles over your clit, eliciting a soft grunt from you as the sensation washed over you. Your core tightened in response to his focused attention, and your hips began to move involuntarily, grinding against his fingers.

You were lost in a fit of absolute pleasure and enjoyment, your body arching off the bed as Seonghwa's fingers delved deeper into you. In a moment of pure instinct, you grabbed his chin, pulling him closer. His mouth was open, and before you could think twice, he sucked your fingers into his mouth, his lips and tongue working over them with a hunger that mirrored your own.

You noticed the glint in his eyes as he watched you, his gaze flickering between the action and your reactions with a possessiveness that lit up his eyes. "Are you just going to watch?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

Your fingertips brushed his smile, his lips brushing against yours as he leaned down. "But I like watching you," he murmured, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His fingers continued their tormenting, curling and twisting inside you in a way that had you squirming beneath him. He could feel your wetness coating his fingers, and it only spurred him on further.

"I n-need a little more," you whispered, but your words were swallowed by the intensity of another finger joining the first, and everything around you seemed to fade away.

Seonghwa groaned, quickly undoing his button and fly with one hand, while the other ensured your legs remained parted. Before you could compose yourself, he dropped his head and began lapping at your clit as if he were starving. At first, it was just his tongue and lips, but when you felt his fingers curl back in, you let out a loud moan of pure pleasure. You didn't even notice his growls of approval as he continued the motion, flicking his tongue faster and faster, as if you might run away at any moment.

The sight and feeling of having such a beautiful face devouring you distracted you from how he was advancing towards you, appearing in front of your face just to dip down and kiss your chest. Distracting you, he was getting ready to take out his hard-on, pumping it in his hands, coating it with your own slick.

“Do you have uh…” He started to ask, but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about that, just… now… p-please,” you urged, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled a little at you, leaning down to hold you with one arm snaked around your waist and the other hooked under your knee as he laid you both on your side. Holding onto him by his broad shoulders, you braced yourself for what was to come.

“Ah, fuck..”

He took your lips between his as he finally had you around him. The way he teased your bottom lip with his teeth, the way his tongue had explored every crevice of your mouth — it reminded you just how much you personally missed the feeling of being this intimate with someone.

Seonghwa groaned into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he rolled his hips, grinding his slightly curved cock deeper into your stretched folds.

"Mmm,” he murmured against your lips, nipping at them playfully before trailing his mouth down your neck. "Is this what you wanted?”

You bit back a grin, nodding aggressively as you continued to moan out all while his shaft slipped in and out at a steady pace with your hands clutched onto the back of his neck.

He caught a pert nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. “You smell incredible, I’ve wanted to tell you that all night.”

You scrunched your nose, “I smell like the club.” Cigarettes and liquor.

To emphasize his point, he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply before placing an open-mouthed kiss there. “I mean your skin, babe. Fuck me…” He suckled lightly, intent on leaving a subtle mark.

"How does that feel?" He asked in a low, seductive rasp as he continued his sensual stroke a little quicker.

Your breathy silent approval ignited something primal in him.

“Yeah? Faster?” He complied, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The new rhythm had him driving into you harder, deeper, the thick ridge of his cockhead kissing your cervix with each powerful snap of his hips.

It was wild how he seemed to anticipate your every move before you could even react or give him instructions. The fluidity of his actions felt almost surreal, which sounds absurd when you consider how quickly everything unfolded. You had just met this stunning stranger, with hair flopping over his eyes – you were building brick flowers merely moments ago and now here you were focused on a different set of bricks.

One large hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as the other tangled in your hair, resting his forehead against yours intimately as he pounded into you. His lips brushed yours in fleeting, feverish kisses between ragged breaths.

"Yes, just like that," you grunted, feeling the sweat on his brow against your forehead. “Whatever you want, just take i-it.”

You felt Seonghwa's hands curve around your skin, to press down on your stomach. As his fingers dug in, it was as if they were anchoring you to the moment, making it impossible to escape from under him. Not that you even planned to.

He rocks into you with an increased urgency, driven by the overwhelming desire of how your body is responding instinctively. His eyes locked on yours, a mix of possessiveness and adoration that made your heart race. The way his muscles flexed with each thrust, sweat glistening on his skin, and his lips parting in a shameless moan.

"I-I’m…i’m almost there," He rasped, while his hot breath fanned over your skin.

Just as you're teetering on the brink, he slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt. With a guttural roar, he stills, his cock twitching as he fills you.

When the pulses gradually slowed, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer intensity of you both unravelling at the same time. His lips sought yours in a tender, lingering kiss, pouring all your affection into the simple gesture.

"Oh my god…" he breathed, still reeling as he brushed a strand of sweaty hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of your cheekbone.

“God…” You chuckled, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “I needed that so badly.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement with an eyebrow raised as your bluntness, “Glad I could’ve helped–”

You placed a finger to his lips, silencing him momentarily before you flipped him over to straddle his chest. Your eyes sparkled with mischief despite the exhaustion etched on your face. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and the sight of you climbing atop sent a thrill through his veins. His semi-hard cock twitched in anticipation as he idly watched you position yourself and slowly shift downwards, making sure to plant butterfly kisses all over his lower abdomen as you made your way down his happy trail.

You looked at him with a playful smile, your eyes glinting with excitement that you were going to taste yourself off him. Then you leaned in, capturing his cock in a deep mouth. Your tongue danced with the tip, exploring every inch of it as you savoured the taste of yourself and him. He groaned softly, his head falling back against the pillow as your warm, wet mouth enveloped his cock.

You took your time, lavishing attention on every inch, your tongue swirling and dancing along the sensitive underside. The sensation of tasting yourselves together was intensely arousing. He threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each pass.

"Mmm, shit, that feels incredible," he praised, his voice thick with pleasure. "You look so good with me around your mouth."

You hummed in agreement, the vibration sending shivers up his spine. You picked up speed, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder, your saliva coating his shaft.

"Don't stop," he gasped, his fingers threading through your hair, guiding your movements. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his legs and arms tensing as he neared his climax again.

With a final, powerful thrust of your throat, he let out a guttural roar, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he released once more. You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him, and then pulled back, licking your lips clean. You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with satisfaction and a hint of mischief. He was breathless, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"You're something else.” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and admiration as he watched you clean after yourself so well.

You smiled, leaning into his parted lips.

The whole thing was deliciously reckless… Yet, easy. It started off as one of those nights where the music was too loud, the drinks too strong, and yet somehow it led you here – it led him here. Seonghwa didn’t plan on meeting anyone, let alone ending up tangled in someone’s sheets, laughing at your terrible jokes between kisses that felt way too good to stop for the rest of the night.

By the time the sun started creeping through the blinds, you were both wrecked in the best way. Not just tired, but happy-tired. Wrapped up in each other like it was the most natural thing in the world — just easy conversation, lazy kisses, and that warm, quiet buzz of maybe-this-could-actually-be-something.

“So, what do you think about dinner? My place this Saturday?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Isn’t it Saturday already?” he replied with a chuckle.

“Then I guess you’ll have to stay.” You muttered with a cheek pressed against his chest.

He let out a small laugh, pulling you closer. You drifted asleep first, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back as his chin pressed lightly down the top of your head. He wasn’t tired yet, but he had a few things on his mind until his phone started going off in the other room.

He carefully untangles himself from you. His movements were quiet, practiced. He slipped his boxers on and cracked the door open to quietly head over to shut that stupid thing off.

It had to be one of the guys. That’s what he told himself. It had to be them asking if he got your number, if last night was good, if he was even still alive after stumbling out of there with you.

That’s why it came as a shock when he finally registered what he was reading on his phone.

DO NOT ANSWER Missed call (2)

DO NOT ANSWER I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but Donghyuck said he saw you and your boys last night and… that you left that trash place with someone?

Did not know you were that kind of person…

Can we talk? I need to see you. I’m at your dorm.

It didn’t matter if it was inappropriate, offensive, or downright insane to come back after all the mental acrobatics Seonghwa was put through because his body was already moving, back to your room to quietly pull on the rest of his clothes. Every few seconds, he glanced back at you, at the way your hair fanned across the pillow, at the warmth still lingering in the sheets. With a quiet sigh, he grabbed a sticky note from your desk.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure what felt worse: leaving you, or running back to the person who only came back when he was one foot out the door, just to prove how wrapped around the finger he was. He didn’t know how to feel about any of it — but knew that he had to go. Because even if this could’ve been the start of something real, something he might’ve actually needed… he thought he needed to be there, chasing the comfort of old chains that he knew all too well.

By the time you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the emptiness beside you. The second was the way your lips still tingled from the night before, still smiling as it remembered what he tasted like and how he treated you, recalling everywhere his lips grazed, even though he had already left. He had been for a while, he could’ve woken you. He also could’ve taken the Lego orchid with him. The day was almost already gone by now, but a part of you was looking forward to seeing him again later.

It wasn’t until you reached for a glass of water that you noticed the note, neatly pressed under a fridge magnet in the kitchen that the hopeful smile you carried around your apartment dropped instantly.

"Thanks for last night. I don’t think I can stick around for that dinner. I’m sorry."

The words weren’t sloppy or rushed. He had taken his time. Like he meant it. Like that had made it better.

#seonghwa smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #hwa fic #park seonghwa #atz smut #atz fanfic #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #seonghwa #atz reader #atiny

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wileys-russo · 4 months ago

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Ft. Clumsy Alessia on one knee - cliff top - reader: “babe did you just trip again?? Oh my god you’re proposing!!”

part of the maternal instincts universe just say yes II a.russo

you and alessia were engaged. you couldn't quite believe it as for the tenth time just in that hour you'd found yourself gazing down at your ring finger in admiration.

twisting your hand left and right you watched as the clean cut diamond caught the sun, glinting and shimmering as your lips curled into the same dopey smile of disbelief that had been plastered in your face the last two days since.

but in order to understand just how it happened, you'd need to track back through a series of rather unplanned and unfortunate events, and it had all started on a tuesday evening...

you had parent teacher interviews (which really you'd always protested was a waste of time for primary school classes, but the department of education clearly disagreed) which left alessia in charge for the night shift.

now normally that would be fine, bar bella perhaps testing the waters a little more to see just how much she could get away with. though your girlfriend had caught onto this quite quickly and now with both time and confidence under her belt had no issues assuming the stricter parental role as needed.

but tonight it seemed bella and her tummy monster had decided to take it easy on the striker, not kicking up a fuss when alessia refused to buy pizza for dinner since there was things to use up in the fridge, only splashing her half as much as usual in the bath and putting on her least favourite pair of pyjamas since the latter was in the wash.

so naturally alessia felt her guard start to slip, sitting bella down in front of the tv for her designated nightly episode of bluey and busying herself scanning two marketing contracts luca had been harassing her about which had been sat in her email inbox for well over a week now.

sat at the dining room table with her back turned on the suspiciously well behaved five year old, alessia failed to notice the couch was empty, bella wandering off to try and locate her phone which she knew charged in the bedroom, missing you and wanting to say goodnight.

but unaware the phone in question was tucked away in alessias pocket, bella frowned at the bare side table, now on the hunt and pulling open the drawer of the nightstand, pushing up on the tips of her toes to look inside.

sticking a hand up she clumsily fumbled about, pushing and poking and prodding but huffing when ultimately there was still no phone to be found. but then her finger brushed something soft, eyebrows creasing as she stood up as tall as she could until her small hand was able to grasp it.

tugging it out of the nightstand, a small crushed velvet box sat in the palm of your daughters hand, and from the moment she popped it open, everything that was to come in the week ahead was set into motion.

"you bought mummy a ring!" alessia almost fell off her chair as a little voice chirped up suddenly from beside her, eyes widening as large as saucers at the diamond ring thrust in her face as bella climbed up on the chair beside her, wild grin on her face.

"where did you get this? were you snooping? what did we say about snooping isabella?" alessia's tone was sharp as she slammed her laptop shut, lurching forward to snatch the ring and snap the box closed, shoving it into her pocket and head rapidly darting side to side to check you hadn't seen as if you weren't currently on the other side of town.

"no! i wanted your phone, so i could call mummy and say goodnight. does mummy know about the ring? does this mean you're gonna get married? can i be the flower girl? can i wear a pretty dress? can the dress be pink? or maybe red! will leah be there? will uncle-" overwhelmed by the rapid fire investigation taking place alessia was quick to press her hand over the five year olds mouth.

"we need to have a little talk, bella." alessia warned sternly, slowly lowering her hand as bellas once delighted grin lowered into a scowl, crossing her arms and slumping down in the chair, as was her usual go to whenever she knew she'd gotten herself into trouble.

"come on, its past your bedtime." alessia spoke a little softer now, standing and offering her hand for bella to take, chuckling as the girl who was more than capable of walking lifted her arms expectantly.

"oh alright then." alessia gave in with a sigh of amusement, lifting bella up and into her own arms, walking the pair of them down the hall to her room and lowering her into bed, making sure she was all tucked in and comfortable with the small army of stuffed animals bella insisted all needed a place in bed with her.

"now this-" alessia grabbed the ring from her pocket and popped the box open again. "-is a conversation i did not plan to have this way, snoopy." alessia smiled poking at bella's nose who scrunched her face up in response.

"but the situation has clearly changed. so, tiny, would you be okay if i ask your mummy to marry me?" alessia asked, a small handful of nerves bubbling to the surface with the question, surprise clearly written all over your daughters face.

"me?" bella asked in response, pointing to herself as your girlfriend smiled and nodded. "yeah, you. your opinion is pretty important to me you know." alessia affirmed, hand smoothing down the few rogue tufts of hair which stuck up at the back of bella's head where she'd had one of your hoodies on before dinner.

"i want you to marry mummy! i do! then we can be a real family!" bella perked up, alessia almost falling off the bed as bella launched across it, arms flung around her neck and clinging on tightly to the bear hug your girlfriend eagerly wrapped her in.

"we already are a family. me, you, your mum, your dad, your dads girlfriend olivia. thats why we all go out to dinner every second friday, right?" alessia reminded gently, hand rubbing up and down soothingly against bellas back.

"yeah! for chinese." bella nodded happily, the routine one that both you and your ex had implemented once both in quite serious relationships, and much from isabellas own requests.

"but. you cannot tell mummy about the ring or that i want to propose to her, okay?" alessias tone once again adopted a strict undertone, carefully prying bella off and pulling back the covers so she could climb underneath them again.

"but why? she'll be happy! mummy loves you mama." bella wondered innocently with a frown, tucking one of her teddys under her chin as she wiggled around until she was comfortable.

"because its a surprise, so its our little secret. okay? not a word to mummy, nothing, nada, zip!" alessia motioned zipping her lips closed making the five year old giggle and nod in agreement.

"zip!"

and for a few days, that seemed to be working well. until dinner at alessias mothers place, where suddenly everything came crashing down.

you were of course being your usual stubborn self, refusing to let anyone swat you out of the kitchen to help clean up after dinner and flicking your girlfriend with the dish towel when she didn't hold this same level of use.

"babe!" alessia gasped as the crack echoed around the living room, your finger pointing back into the kitchen. "your mum and dad cooked, your brother cleared the table, you can dry a dish or two russo." you warned sternly, the blonde sending a filthy side eye to luca who oohed, earning himself a smack on the arm from his own wife.

but with the pair of you preoccupied in the kitchen, and bella showing alessias parents her latest dance routine in the front room, it would seem the striker should have perhaps been a little more specific with the nature of her earlier warnings.

"lessi! can you come here for a second please darling?" the blonde glanced over your head from where her mum was calling for her, not long having finished helping you wash and dry when bella had come zooming on through, smacking your leg and demanding you were now 'it' for the game of tag she'd started.

"yeah mum what-" but the words died in her mouth the minute she saw the all too familiar red box in the womans hand, mirrored by the looks of pride and joy in both her parents eyes.

"oh god!" alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face and hurrying to all but slam her parents bedroom door shut as the congratulations and hugs started which she quickly wiggled her way out of.

"isabella!" alessia muttered under her breath, forcing a weak smile as her parents chattered away happily and she plucked the ring from her mothers palm, tucking it safely away in her pocket and making a mental note to find a better hiding spot.

"why didn't you tell us you were proposing!" right as her dad clapped her on the back the door opened, alessias head doing a near 360 on her shoulders and exhaling shakily in relief seeing it was only bella and luca, rapidly motioning for the door to be closed again.

"you're proposing??" luca asked with wide eyes, squatting down to allow bella to slide off his back where he'd been carting her around, alessia sighing deeply and pressing her fingertips into her temple.

"i'm gonna be the flower girl!" bella announced happily, bouncing about as the room exploded into chatter once again and the blonde wished the ground could swallow her up.

"isabella i told you not to tell anyone!" alessia warned the grinning five year old who darted back to hide behind lucas leg. "no! mama you told me not to tell mummy." isabella retorted matter of factly, though not with quite enough confidence to move away from using luca as a human shield.

"well i told you not to touch the ring!" alessia groaned again. "i didn't! i touched the box." bella answered back smartly, retreating even further behind luca as alessias eyes narrowed.

"so when are you doing it? now?" her brother questioned eagerly, bella sneaking off when alessias gaze flickered away from her for just a second, the door opening and closing before the blonde could grab her.

"bella don't you-now? of course i'm not doing it now!" alessia scoffed, her head starting to hurt as she advanced toward the door, eager to wrangle you and bella up and get away from here into a much more controlled environment where the threat of the secret being revealed was at least lessened.

"but why not? sieze the moment darling, it doesn't have to be a big gesture!" her mum encouraged, alessia waving her off with a shake of her head, throwing open the door and all but stomping down the hall, her anxiety peaked that bella would continue on her little train of telling and you'd be the next stop.

only when she came to a halt at the back door, time seemed to slow and the hardened lines etched in her forehead softened, watching you and bella kick a ball around in the backyard, sudden nostalgia washing over her of when alessia had been bellas age.

full of life, excitement, with scraped knees and mud stained clothes, determined to best her two older brothers who would constantly shoot her down when she tried to join them, instead practicing on her own until the sun was so low in the sky she couldn't see more than a metre in front of her and she was forced to come inside.

you spotted your girlfriend hovering and watching, giving her a wave and pretending to dive for the ball, bella easily slotting it past you and racing around doing her 'air russo' arms as alessias lips curled into a smile.

though perhaps instead of watching in front of her, she should have been a little more concerned with what lay beneath her, as within no more than two steps forward the striker seemed to forget the layout of her own backyard, tumbling down the three steps that connected the deck to the grass.

of course more than used to your girlfriends clumsiness you didn't think much of it, covering a laugh up with a cough as you jogged on over to her with an amused shake of your head.

but as alessia slowly pulled herself up, she realised there was a looming weight that was now missing from her left pocket, and again head gaze shot downward.

scrambling to recover the small red box sat in plain sight on the grass before her, she was lucky as your attention was temporarily captured as bella called out for you to watch her do a cartwheel.

"very good!" you clapped happily at the five year olds half cartweel, turning around again as bella attempted to try and juggle the ball as she'd watched alessia do countless times, instead booting it halfway across the backyard with an annoyed huff.

"babe did you trip again?" you returned your gaze down to alessia, but your laughter caught in your throat as you did so, the blonde staring up at you like a deer in headlights with a tiny red box in her hand.

you knew you shouldn't say it, but the words came tumbling out of your mouth like a flood before you could stop them.

"oh my god you're proposing." you choked out, alessias mouth opening and closing like a fish. "no im-" but seeing the way your face automatically fell at just those two words, the regret and embarrassment now filling your features, coupled with the multiple sets of eyes she could feel staring at the pair of you from back inside the house.

she made a decision.

"yes. yes i am!" she quickly clarified as you now watched on with shock, alessia shaking her head a few times and exhaling shakily. "um-look i had a whole plan and a speech and it was much more elaborate and romantic and thoughtful than well...this." alessia started nervously, adjusting herself to be on one knee.

"but then bella found the ring early and let it slip to my parents and she brought it here to show them, without me knowing, and then the more people knew the more i worried it would get back to you before i was ready and when i tell you i had a plan i had a plan! i promise. it was-" alessia spoke a million miles an hour as you struggled to keep up, clearing your throat suddenly.

"less, my love, you're rambling." you smiled, still able to find some amusement in this situation as the blonde nodded profusely, pausing for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"this wasn't how i planned it, like at all. but i love you more than anything, i love isabella with my everything, and i want to cement a loving and stable future with both of you. so, will you marry me?" alessia finally popped the question, and you knew your answer, but you just couldn't seem to get the words out.

feeling a hand slip into yours you looked down, finding your daughter stood beside you with a cheshire like grin.

"mummy, just say yes."

and thats exactly what you did.

#woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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corensweat · 11 months ago

Text

🌲 road trip.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: when your camping trip with scott gets cut short because of a work emergency, you nearly kill him and every member of storm par, intent on making your ire well known on the drive home. but when you push scott too far, his impatience has other plans. or “If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” Word Count: 13.3k Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, no use of y/n, bdsm, established dom/sub dynamic, pet names (honey, sweetheart, baby), brief mentions of serial killerisms (teasingly… maybe), semi-priv public sex (in a truck), scott has a whore mouth (again), groping, belting (f! receiving), spanking/slapping (f! receiving, breasts & v), oral (m+f), nippleplay (f! receiving), unprotected pinv, orgasm denial, fingering (f), cumplay, breeding A/N: when the "just a quick one shot" turns into a beast... oops? 😬 thank you to my proud sponsor aka the scott rot™️! if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

On hour two of the drive back to OKC, you think you’ve lost your mind.

What had begun as a much-anticipated weekend road trip with Scott — an incredibly overdue escape, though you weren’t exactly keeping track — had swiftly turned from enjoying the fresh, open air and the promise of an entire weekend distraction-free, to a mountain of frustration that battled the ones in the distance. All because your charming, secretly sentimental boyfriend had wanted a picture of you and the sunset for his lock screen.

If you weren’t so upset about it, you probably would’ve laughed.

But this was the fourth (fourth!) time that something had gotten in the way of your Scott Time, and, look — you needed it. So. Fucking. Badly.

Which was why when his phone had gone off again, after Scott had ignored the voicemails Javi left him, you were so, so very tempted to hurl the fucking thing into the pond. Instead, you sat there, already trying to think of a way to get your lick back with the fact that he was the one who’d insisted that going off the grid meant going off the grid and electronics simply took away from the nature of it all, the hypocritical ass. And you’d watched, with dawning realization and equal devastation, as Scott’s entire demeanor had shifted from peeved that Javi even had the audacity, to shutting his mouth and speaking in yes, sir’s and I understand, sir’s.

Oh, Marshall Riggs was going to get an absolute earful the next time y’all sat down for Sunday dinner.

But first, you had your sights set on Scott. And, quite frankly, he deserved every second of petulant that you were giving him.

When he adjusted the air conditioning, you dropped the temp lower. When he found a good station on the radio, you changed it. When he asked for one of the snacks by your seat, you munched on it first, mumbling a fake apology when you passed him a small piece. And when you finally started talking, it was one word answers: yes, no, dunno, sure, fine, whatever.

And every time he gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter, you felt vindicated by the fact that it was ticking him off.

Good. You were ticked off. And unbelievably, atrociously bored. There were only so many things you could do in his truck while you were half giving him a cold shoulder. And, well, after the last time you’d reached for the volume and he’d caught your wrist with a stern ‘knock it off’, like you were a child, you’d resorted to pouting out the window, then sifting through his middle storage, and then snooping through his glove box.

All of which were boring, in the exact way that only a man’s truck could be boring. Who didn’t have a car Chapstick, but could have packs of gum hidden everywhere? And where were the just-in-case napkins? And what did he even use pliers for?

Your brattiness — no, curiosity — wins over the agitation that still simmers just under the surface. You turn to Scott with a mischievous grin as you hold up the pliers. “Be honest. Are you secretly a serial killer?”

Scott glances at you, then at the pliers, before rolling his eyes with a faint smirk. “Caught me,” he deadpans, his voice carrying just enough sarcasm to draw out your giggle.

“I knew it.” You dig further into his glove box like you expect to find a pair of gloves, which stupidly has you giggling because you’d lost your mind, see, and there was no way there’d actually— Oh. Shit. He really did have gloves. “You’re the worst serial killer I’ve met. Your whole murder kit is in here and you haven’t even tried to kill me yet?”

“Getting close to it, honey,” Scott quips, a teasing edge to his voice that makes your heart flutter. His eyes stay fixed on the road, but you catch the slight twitch of his lips, betraying his amusement.

Until you keep it up, making an exaggerated show of pulling out every item you find, each discovery more dramatic than the last. The subtle tightening of his jaw tells you that rummaging through his stuff is getting more of a rise from him than your earlier silence had. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, the whites of his knuckles glowing under the moonlight, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of satisfaction at the sight.

Curling your knees to your chest with his newest item in your lap (a bundle of zip ties), you bat your lashes up at him with feigned innocence. “Am I bothering you, baby?”

“Nope.” Scott, to his credit (you pretend it’s not because you’re his girlfriend but because he just chooses to be kind), swallows down whatever shitty retort is on the tip of his tongue as he shakes his head. “Not at all.”

His eyes flick briefly to you, then back to the road, as if anchoring himself, before he plasters one of his obnoxiously fake smiles on that doesn’t reach his eyes. Your own smile slips at the blatant irritation bubbling just beneath the surface, hating that look, knowing he knew you hated when he was fake with you. He reaches over, his hand finding your knee — not in the usual affectionate squeeze, but more as a grounding gesture, a silent plea for you to stop before you push him too far.

“You might want to close that now,” he adds, his voice soft but laced with an unmistakable edge as he jerks his chin toward his still-open glove box. “Before I really lose my patience.”

“But...” you start, pouting a little, your fingers lingering on the edge of the glove box. “I was just having fun. I mean, what else could be in here? Secret spy gadgets? Hidden treasures?”

Scott’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. His patience is fraying, each word clipped and precise as he says, “Close. It. Now.”

You relent, closing it with a dramatic flourish and an equally exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay. Glove box exploration time is over.”

Scott exhales, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Thank you,” he mutters, though his eyes still carry a hint of irritation as he changes the radio station a couple of times, scowling at the country crooning through his speakers, before just shutting it off.

“You sure you’re okay?” You test, still pushing his limits. You figured that Scott knew you better than that. That you knew him better than that. Nearly seven months together — again, not that you were counting — and he really thought you couldn’t tell when something was off?

You continue, “Just because… Well, you seem a little stressed. Is it because you didn’t get to tie me up and torture me back there by the pond? I mean, I’m sure you’ll get another chance someday, like when cows fly, but—”

“Are you done?” Scott huffs, shooting you a look.

You don’t back down from it, leveling him with your own hard expression. When he’s forced to return to the road, breaking eye contact first, that prideful part of you purrs. He sighs. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but I don’t have any other choice. So sit down, shut up, and stop fucking with my system, please.”

He says the last through gritted teeth, and as much as you loved to antagonize him, you knew when to push and when to not. Putting the last of the stuff back where you’d found it exactly how you’d found it, you stuff your hands under your thighs and pout quietly until he visibly relaxes again.

“You’re not being very nice,” you mumble, the silence that encases you both too much to bear.

Scott runs his tongue over his teeth, then looks over at you, his expression hard. “And you’re lucky I haven’t spanked your ass raw for that attitude yet.” Surprise must flash across your face, because a smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth that he quickly masks. “What? Did you think I would just let all that slide?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Liar.”

Damn it.

Before you can say anything else, Scott reaches over, gently but firmly tilting your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as his eyes leave the road for a second. “Do I need to remind you of the rules?” he asks, his tone shifting from frustrated to something far more controlled and deliberate — each word laced with a quiet authority that sends a shiver down your spine and makes your blood run hot.

It’s a tone you’ve come to know all too well, one that signals a subtle shift in the dynamic between you, a reminder of exactly who’s in charge.

To anyone else, it might have sounded like another classic Scott lecture — a stern word from someone who was used to being in control. But you knew this side of him intimately well, understood the depths of what he was really asking. This wasn’t just about a conversation or setting you straight; it was a command, a subtle but potent assertion of the power he held over you.

“Answer me,” he prompts, his voice dropping to a low, steady hum that makes your pulse race. “Yes or no, honey.”

“No,” you breathe, testing the waters of defiance.

“Let’s try that again.” Scott’s grip remains steady on the wheel, but the weight of his gaze feels like a tightening hold around you. “No, what?” he asks, his voice low and demanding, leaving no room for anything but the correct response.

You swallow. The tension between you is thick and electric. “No, sir.”

He holds your gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity, long enough for you to actually worry about him being behind the wheel. But a quick glance at the road reassures you — he’s in complete control, staying perfectly between the lines, maintaining a comfortable distance from the cars ahead and behind.

His eyes flicker to your mouth, lingering there with a deliberate intensity. “We’ll see.”

A noise of discontent escapes you immediately when he returns to his side of the truck as if nothing happened, all the air leaving your lungs. We’ll see. That was it? No good girl? It’s a reprimand all on its own, defiance filling you quickly.

What was the point of his rules if he wasn’t going to listen to them?

First with his phone, which had gotten you here in the first place, and now this. You pout, crossing your arms as you glare at the car in front of you, hating everything about this weekend. God, you’d both been so exhausted from the drive to the campsite that you hadn’t even touched him like he’d promised you could **— **on top of the week he’d already instructed you not to touch yourself.

And now Scott was going to be buried in work again. He’d drop you off at home just to drive another hour or two to who the hell knew where, and from there it was back to the office to get the paperwork rolling, call the banks, pouring hour after hour into making sure this deal went through. All because Riggs had decided his time off was more important than yours.

But it wasn’t. You’d waited eons for this. And you were damned if you were going to let both him and Scott stop you.

Slowly, so slowly, you angle yourself toward your boyfriend, his eyes distant as he readjusts in his seat and fishes absentmindedly for a piece of gum to smack on. For a moment you can’t help but admire him, appreciating the way he filled out the seat, the way his jaw worked with the gum, how when he got lost in his thoughts and had a particularly interesting idea he swiped his fingers along his perfect, full mouth.

He was masculine without any effort, intelligent and calculating, and, despite this weekend, was the most attentive boyfriend you’d ever had.

And you ached for him.

Just that tone shift alone — from Scott to sir — had spiked your temperature, leaving you warm with the lack of air conditioning. You knew better than to reach for the knobs, even if the thought of him pinning your wrist down had your thighs pressing together. So you shift forward to unzip his jacket you’d stolen, meaning to shimmy it off, when you catch his eyes on you.

Instead of taking it off completely, you let the gray fabric bunch to your elbows. His eyes slide from the way it now sits on you to your white tank top before focusing back on the road, his gum making that unmistakable snap! he always did. “What’re you doing?” He asks, stealing another glance as you wriggle in the seat.

“Just hot, baby,” you hum, which wasn’t a lie.

But there’s no way to be subtle as you collect your hair into a ponytail and tie it with your scrunchie, just like there’s no way Scott can be subtle as he zeroes in on your hair being up or the fact that your tits jiggle with every bump or dip in the road. His hand flexes on the wheel, quick to snap his attention to the mirrors, as if he’d been checking them in the first place.

You bite back a smile.

By the time Scott is pressing on the brakes, an accident brings the two-lane down to one, one foot is propped up on his dashboard, your head turned to face him with every sigh that leaves your lips. With nothing to pull his attention now other than the slow crawl, his eyes catch yours again, his guard dropping as he falsely believes you’ve listened.

And that’s when you make your move.

“Baby,” you groan, wetting your lips as your fingers brush across his sleeve. Your other hand rests against your knee, slipping down along your thigh while you bat thick lashes up at him. “Can you turn the air on, please? I’m dying.”

“Mhm.” Scott does, following the invisible line your fingers paint across your skin as the air kicks on. The cool air is welcomed and the content noise that leaves you isn’t entirely fabricated. When his hand drops to rest on your thigh, you know he feels how flushed you are under his cold touch. And you know he feels you arch into it. “How’s that? Better?”

“’ Little.” Not even close, but you play it up now that you’ve got him. “Still too hot.”

“Sorry, honey,” Scott’s deep voice is genuine, frowning a bit as he squeezes your thigh. “Got it the lowest it can go. Need me to roll a window down?”

You shake your head. “It’d just bring all the hot air in.” Something he should’ve known, but you couldn’t blame him for being a little distracted. You press on, confident, still inflecting that whine in your voice. “Your hand feels good, though.”

His touch inches up your thigh in response, sure that he’s not even aware he’s doing it. As your touch moves in time with his, you drag your free hand across your chest, pressing against the leather of his seats and pushing a strap off your shoulder. The cool air directly hitting you causes a flurry of goosebumps to rise and your nipples to poke through the fabric, chest rising and falling as you make a show of overheating.

Scott snaps his gum again, removing his hand to tug gently on his jacket. “What did I say about going through my stuff?”

“Oh, you left it at my place. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.” You try to play innocent, but the smile you give him is nothing short of mischievous as you intentionally arch up into his touch. “Do you want it back, sir?”

He’s quiet for so long that you think he’s returned to the road. Instead, his eyes are locked on the thin tank top that clings tight around you. A quiet hum echoes in the back of his throat as he runs his knuckles over the swell of your breast, dragging slowly across your nipple, before he seems to think better of himself and places both hands back on the wheel.

“Keep it.” He grunts, “It looks better on you, anyway.”

“Really?” Despite how you try to hide the happiness from your voice, you fail miserably. Scott didn’t offer many liberties, especially not with his personal belongings. You don’t let the distance keep you far, unhooking your seatbelt and leaning over the center divider to beam up at him.

“Really.” Your heart pitter-patters in your chest when he hums again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His eyes slide back to the road, still at a slow crawl. “Don’t get any ideas, honey.”

Oh, you had about fifty different ones, most of which included seeing how far you could go down this new avenue. You drop a kiss to his shoulder, nuzzling against his cold skin, slipping your arm through his and guiding his hand back to your thigh. Scott squeezes again, a small warning to behave. But since when did you do that?

“Come on,” he taps an index against you after a few minutes, “Buckle up. Safety first.”

“But—” You pout, wrapping your arm around him tighter. He could drive with one hand, and besides, you were barely moving enough for a seatbelt to matter. “You feel so nice. And you’re always away for sooo long, baby. And now you’re gonna be gone again?” Brushing your nose along his jaw, you let your hand drop casually to his thigh. “I just miss you.”

“It’ll only be for a few days.” He shifts under you, chewing his gum slower. No doubt weighing whether he should let this continue or end it early.

“A few days too many.” You feel him inhale as your touch roams, sliding over his muscled thigh and across the zipper of his jeans. He’s already half-hard, the outline of him growing more apparent as you continue, “Do you know how lonely it gets without you? Knowing I can’t cuddle you… Kiss you… Touch you?”

You grope him where you know his weak point is while leaning up to scrape your teeth against his earlobe. His hips lift of their own accord as he instinctively searches for more, his grip on the wheel tightening as he squeezes your thigh in his big hands.

You hide your smile as he thickens under your palm. And smile wider at the growl in his voice as he orders, “Behave.”

“Am I breaking any rules, sir?” With your lips at his ear, every needy breath against him has Scott tensing in response.

Your shorts ride up — and so does his hand, until he’s close enough that you can grind your clothed heat into him. It’s just a single roll of your hips, keeping pressure where you crave him, but it has you whining all the same.

“Please, I missed you so much… I miss touching you, feeling how big you are in my hands…” You drag your palm against his thick length, fully straining against his zipper now, his breath coming out heavy as you grip him. “Please, please, just let me taste you. I’ll be such a good girl, I promise. Wouldn’t I look so pretty with your cock stuffed down my throat? Sounding so pretty as I choke on you?” You whimper against him, the sound small and needy. “Please, sir?”

The combination of your fingers wrapped around him and the feel of your tongue lapping at that sweet spot on his neck has Scott groaning, the noise coming from deep in his throat. Before you can react, he presses you firmly back into your seat, keeping you pinned with his hand across your sternum while you try to fight against the distance he forces between you two.

“Behave.” His gaze meets yours, dark and heavy and no-nonsense.

Your cunt clenches at the authority in his tone, nipples peaking in response. Scott slips his palm under the fabric of your shirt, kneading your heaving chest and rolling the hardened nub between his index and thumb. You writhe at the sensation, a moan spilling out of you, until he pinches you hard enough that you gasp. Just as quick as it happens, he pulls out just enough to bring his palm down roughly against your tit.

The sting of the impact has you arching off the seat as your cry pierces the silence.

Scott presses his index to your mouth in warning as the police lights finally illuminate his truck, the accident off to the side. You’re breathing too heavy to pay attention to it beyond that, not caring about anything happening outside of this truck, and you pass by quickly without any incident.

The air is still heavy as you meet his gaze. And you can’t help when your fingers grip the sides of your shorts to bunch the material in your hands, greedily grinding into the taut seam aligned perfectly with your center.

Scott watches it all silently. “You want to be my good girl?” His fingers draw invisible lines down your thigh, spreading your legs apart with just a touch. You comply easily, nodding as he smooths his hand along your skin and ignites a fire inside you. “Then fucking act like one.”

There’s no warning when he slaps your pussy hard, the denim digging painfully into you. Your hands fly out to grip whatever you can as your hips stir against the pain, crying out as another smack sounds, punishing your disobedience.

And still, you can’t help but whine out for him. “But I need you! I’ve been so, so good this whole time, I swear. Even when you told me not to touch, even when I wanted to so badly— I listened, I swear I did.” Pouting over at Scott, you whimper. “Please, I promise.”

“Go on. Keep it up. Do you think you’re listening now?” His hand tightens to a fist as he rests it hard against the center divider. His gaze pings to the time display on the dashboard, then to you. “The more you misbehave, the longer you wait. Was a week too short, honey? Do we need to extend it to two? Three? Can you even wait that long without disobeying me again?”

You can barely answer, only whimpering out as you press yourself into his arm, careening out of the seat. His hand clasps hard around your wrist when you reach for his zipper again, cutting off whatever noise is in your throat with a low growl.

“If I have to pull over,” he grits out, looking you dead in the eyes, “You won’t be able to walk for a week.”

You level his hard gaze with your own even as your heart pounds heavy, his threat thinly veiled as his grip tightens around your wrist.

And you swear you don’t mean to, but the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Can you go that long without fucking me? If I can’t touch, neither can you. Not a kiss, not a hug, I won’t even let you fuck my mouth!”

As your frustration boils over, you breathe raggedly against yourself, fighting to rip your hand out of his strong grasp. He’s quiet as he watches you, the look in his eyes betraying nothing that simmers underneath the surface.

Calmly, too calmly, he continues driving, following the road as the dark trees pass you by. When he moves off the pavement to turn down a dirt road, your heart flies to your throat.

“What are you doing?” You squeak, looking behind you as if expecting anyone else to follow, but it’s just you on the solitary single lane, his tires crunching on the dirt road. “Scott?”

His mouth stays shut, turning into a clearing of trees. You usually love the outdoors, but the forest around you looks foreboding and eerie, the trees looming large overhead. You glance out the window to the night sky, but there’s not even a twinkle of starlight here. Just inky black nothingness.

He shuts the engine off, taking the headlights with it.

You think you stop breathing.

“Get in the back.” His order is quiet against the silence but travels along your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Now.”

As much as you want to protest, the words catch in your throat, refusing to form. Instead, you wordlessly climb over the center divider, dropping his zip ties into the cupholder with a deliberate clink. Your bags, shoved angrily into the back when he’d asked you to pack up, tumble to the floor, landing in a haphazard pile as you settle into the backseat.

The sudden darkness engulfs you, your eyes straining to adjust to the dim light. You can barely make out Scott’s silhouette, his intense gaze fixed on you before he opens his door with a determined click.

Silently, Scott slips out of the driver’s seat, the slam of each door echoing through the night like a final verdict. You hold your breath as he rounds the truck, each crunch of his boots against the twigs and leaves sounding louder than meant to be. The backseat door opens, and he slides in beside you, the leather creaking softly under his weight.

You find your breath again when his hand, warm and steady, smooths around your ankle, his touch both grounding and possessive. He makes room for himself, his presence filling the confined space with an electric charge. The air grows thick with anticipation as you sit there, the darkness around you deepening, your heart pounding in your chest.

Scott’s fingers trail up your leg with deliberate slowness, each movement precise and controlled. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you hostage. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, searching for some sort of escape. But it was too dark outside to see, the woods maybe terrified you a little bit without Scott by your side, and even if he chased after you — and you weren’t bratty enough to do that — you had absolutely no idea how to get back to a road, let alone the road.

And, well, you didn’t really want to get away from him. Just the punishment you knew he would dole out for your disobedience.

Still—

“I thought we had to get back to the city,” you squeak out, voice trembling against your better efforts as you try to plead your case to deaf ears, “Riggs– Riggs said you needed to be back, right? And you know how far my place is from your office, and—”

“We have time for this,” Scott interrupts, his voice firm, a low rumble that leaves no room for argument. He presses his index to the pout of your mouth, silencing you. It sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath hitching as you squirm under his grip, eyes wide and pleading.

If you were a deer in headlights, Scott was a hunter. And he was a damn good hunter.

Scott’s beautiful mouth curves into a grin, his eyes darkening with a hint of amusement. He leans in closer, his presence overwhelming, the scent of leather and the outdoors mingling with his intoxicating scent. The tension in the air thickens, every sound amplified by the stillness of the night. The rustling leaves outside, the distant hoot of an owl, even the faint hum of the truck’s cooling engine — all seem to echo the pulsing beat of your heart.

You can feel the rough texture of his jeans against your skin as he shifts, making himself comfortable, his body pressing against yours in the confined space. His hand, warm and commanding, moves from your mouth to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere until I say so,” he states, his eyes gleaming, all possession and affection. His words wrap around you like a promise, binding you to this moment, to him.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, the gravity of everything sinking in. Scott’s eyes lock onto yours, a silent command for your complete attention. His other hand slides down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, before settling on your waist, pulling you even closer.

“Relax,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re safe with me.”

Your lashes flutter as a noise sounds in the back of your throat, caught between a plea and a whimper. You trusted Scott more than anything, and knew, without question, without fear, that he would never do anything you didn’t want.

And god, you wanted him bad enough that it ached.

“I need you to understand a few things, honey,” Scott continues, his voice still that deadly calm, his finger dragging slowly down your chin, tracing a deliberate path down the column of your throat. “I can tolerate you being upset. I’m not happy about it, either, despite what you might think.”

He pauses for a moment, letting his gaze lock onto yours, his eyes dark and unwavering. “But what I won’t tolerate,” he says, his tone sharpening as he closes his hand around your throat with a possessive grip, “is your disrespect.”

“But—”

“Shut up.” Scott’s voice is a low, dangerous growl as he tightens his hold on you, his thumb pressing firmly into your pulse. The pressure is confident and calculated — the kind of control that comes from having done this countless times before. “I’m not done.”

Defiance bubbles up and fights Scott at every turn, and despite the way you wriggle under him, your eyes grow hazy with need at the feel of his hand around your throat. God, you knew exactly what those hands were capable of; sweet, delicious torture, doling punishment and reward with equal passion. “But—”

“Why can you never fucking listen?” His voice drops to a growl that vibrates against your ear, his body shifting so that his weight presses down on you. You whimper at the added pressure, your fingers instinctively fisting the fabric of his shirt, trying to hold onto something solid.

Scott notices. With a swift motion, he knocks your wrists away, gripping both of them together with a firm, unyielding hold. When he pins them above your head, possessive and commanding, you can’t help but moan, growing pliant under his weight.

“Maybe I do need to remind you of my rules,” he says, his voice a dangerous purr, “since you seem to like breaking them.”

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Every word is low and steady, completely in control. “You’re going to pay attention now, aren’t you? You’re going to listen to every word I say.”

Your pulse races under his thumb, the pressure making it difficult to focus on anything other than the commanding presence of his body pressed against yours. The conflicting emotions — fear, need, frustration — swirl together, drawing the breath from your lungs.

Scott’s eyes meet yours again, the dark intensity he’d first set on you softening slightly. “Do you trust me?” He asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, carrying with it both a challenge and an invitation.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe. Always.

“Good.” He presses a tender kiss to your temple and cheek, nudging his nose into the curve of your shoulder and kissing the column of your throat. Your body responds in kind, arching up into his generosity, the calm before the storm, as he slowly releases his hold on you. One tap against your wrist is a silent order to keep them there, and you thread your fingers together, looping them into the door grip as he kisses his way back up to your mouth. “Because you’re going to hate me tonight.”

You want to tell him that such a thing is impossible — there was nothing Scott could do that would make you hate him, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he was sometimes — but he doesn’t give you a chance to speak. Lifting you up, or at least as much as he can in the truck with his hulking size, Scott draws a hand around the curve of your waist, pushing his jacket aside to expose more of you.

“Take this off.” He orders. His expression melts back into one of superiority, one you’re all too familiar with, and you try not to pout when he continues with, “I changed my mind. I want it back.”

“Want what back?” You hum, fingers twitching. You debate the pros and cons of pointing out that you can’t take off his jacket with your hands still pinned in place, but bite your lip instead. You were already pushing the envelope — a lot — by feigning innocence.

“You know what.” Sensing that you’re still… sort of… listening, Scott, taps your wrist twice, freeing you of your position. Under his tone, your fingers close around the material of his comfortable clothing, lifting to slip it fully off your frame. You drop it next to your stuff with your eyes trained on his. “When I’m convinced you can behave, I’ll consider giving it back.”

That snaps your mouth shut. Pressing your lips together, you nod as you place your hands back in their previous position, the only tell that he’s satisfied by your change of heart being a slight twitch of a smile.

“I didn’t say you were done,” he drags his gaze along the length of you, his touch following where his eyes roam until he hooks a finger around the belt loop of your shorts. “Take these off, too, and turn around.”

Electricity charges through you at the command in his voice. Your movements are slow, careful, as you try not to bump into anything as you slide out from under him and remove your shirt. Your shorts follow, but he stops you as you hook your thumbs under the waist of your panties, both of his large hands sliding on your hips to face you opposite him.

He’s massive against you, your back pressing against his chest as his hands roam freely, trailing up the length of you and then down your arms to place your hands back in their previous position, fingers curling around yours in a silent gesture. And then his touch returns, calloused fingertips dragging over every spot of your soft skin, cupping your breast in his hand as he sighs against your neck.

You feel the hard length of him straining against his jeans as he pulls you to him, every caress coaxing a fire in you. Even though you want nothing more than to touch him, to take him into your hands, he has you caught. You really wanted that jacket.

And you hated disappointing him.

His touch wanders to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his hand before he smooths a hand up your spine, signaling for you to bend over. You comply with shallow breaths, the warmth of him missing when he puts even more space between you.

“How many times do you think you disobeyed me tonight, honey?” He asks, the question making your heart stutter. He continues to knead your skin, but with your angle, you can’t see anything happening behind you. “I’ll let you guess.”

You try to think back, but everything is hazy now. When you got in these moods — which was more often than not — you had a hard time telling which rules were broken and which weren’t, because, well, you tended to do it a lot. And you knew Scott well enough by now that even if you guessed any number, it wouldn’t be specific. It wouldn’t be right. Guess lower, and he’d add more. Guess higher, and he’d use your number, then remind you of the true one after it was all said and done.

A gasp escapes from you as your eyes flutter shut. Fuck. “I– I don’t know, sir.”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he just hums, adjusting the twisted straps of your underwear higher up on your hips. “Thirty-two times.” He lets that sit heavy in the air for a moment, your breath stalling in your throat. “You know what happens when it gets that high, honey.”

“You use the belt,” you whisper, the words barely audible.

Scott nods. “Mhm. I use the belt.” The soft, metallic clink of his buckle coming undone is followed by a steady hand against your hip, smoothing circles along your skin as you begin to tremble in anticipation. “Shhh. You know the rules. Count.”

The first point of contact is always the worst. He lets the moment play out, your body tensing and easing as you wait for any sign that it’s coming, but he gives no indication when he stops touching you. And then the sharp sting as leather meets your rear, the folded-over halves biting into you with practiced efficiency.

Your eyes squeeze shut, fingers tightening around the handle as you gasp out, “One.”

By the end, your muscles are taut and your backside is red and flaming, your whimpers spilling freely from your mouth. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to hold yourself up, trembling with exertion. Scott rubs his hand along your curves, having given equal attention to both cheeks, a content noise sounding in the back of his throat as you still careen toward him.

“Last one, honey. You’re doing so good.” He praises quietly, the only encouragement you need as his belt goes sailing toward you again, leaving another welt in its wake.

“Thirty-two!” Escaping through gritted teeth, you jerk forward with the impact, breathing hard and heavy when you hear the clink of his belt falling to the floor.

Scott taps twice along your stomach as he brings you up to his chest, careful to leave space between you as he smooths over your sore muscles, easing the pain. He presses kisses along your throat, your shoulder, letting you shake against him as you lulls you down from the high, every touch soft and affectionate. “That’s it, I know… Shhh… Did so good for me, honey…”

Each sweet nothing brings you down, continuing to press kisses against your skin until your breathing evens out. Scott sets his hands to your hips, holding you firmly, nudging the space just behind your ear.

“If you just listened, I wouldn’t have to punish you.” He reminds, letting your hands drift over his. Despite the softness of his tone, you still catch the authority seeping through every word, and you know it’s far from over. “I don’t like how you spoke to me today, honey.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you breathe, meaning them truthfully. Scott presses another kiss to your skin in acknowledgment. “I was just upset. I wanted to spend this weekend with you, and—”

“Am I not making this time now?” He questions, cutting you off. When his touch wanders between your thighs, fingers circling your clothed clit, soaked despite his brutal treatment, he groans against you. “What was it you said earlier… That I couldn’t touch you? That you wouldn’t let me?”

Vaguely, through your hazy mind, you remember saying that. But you keep your mouth shut, quiet little noises escaping as he continues to please you, easing away the pain he’d caused. Your desire for him, so neglected because of his orders, coils deep inside you as he recites your perfect tempo — having spent hours exploring, learning, and committing what you enjoyed to memory.

“Let’s make one thing abundantly clear,” he continues. “Every part of you is mine to touch, spank, suck, lick, and fuck as I please. Any time. Any day. Any place. Those are the rules you agreed to. If I want you just like this…” Adding pressure, he holds you up as your knees buckle against him, “I will, for as long as I want. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Your words come out shaky, breath hitching with every skilled circle of his fingers. “I understand, sir.”

“Then show me you understand.” Within a second his touch is gone, leaving you delirious as you search for him. You hear the rustle of fabric behind you, twisting to watch him slip off his shirt, then ease himself down on the backseat with a foot firmly planted on the floor. His fingers hover over the button on his jeans, flipping it open as his dark gaze trains on you. “Come here.”

You comply immediately, drawing forward as his hand slips in your hair. Scott pushes down the restricting fabric, slipping his hand into his black briefs, freeing himself from his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, thick and veiny and dripping with precum, his fist stroking himself as he holds you there, coating his length with his desire.

“Look what you do to me,” he whispers, drinking in every shallow breath, the way your eyes remain fixed on his hand, how your hips stir with every twist like you imagining yourself riding him. “Even when you’re a fucking brat, I can’t get enough of you, honey. Always so fucking hard for you. You have no idea…” He releases himself to cup your chin, spreading himself over the swell of your mouth. You greedily taste what he offers, tongue lapping at him before sucking on the tip of his thumb. “I’d spend an eternity inside you if I could.”

Those words — the claim, the rare admission — makes your heart somersault in your chest.

Without waiting for his command, you crawl between his legs and sink to draw your hand along his jean-clad thigh, a silent plea echoing in your eyes. As he wets his lips, you grip his length in your hand, his girth barely allowing you to wrap fully around him. Scott’s breath hitches as you stroke him exactly how he prefers, your hand sinking lower with each slow, deliberate movement.

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, the tip of his cock as pink as his lips, and you pay special attention to it, thumb smoothing along the sensitive underside of him. The soft action has his hips bucking up into your touch, breath hissing between his teeth as he wraps your hair around his fist.

No matter how many times you were in this position, nothing changed how exhilarating it was to have brief a moment of power over him.

When you move to take him into your mouth, your tongue flat and eager, Scott wraps his fingers around your throat, that playful glint in his eyes replacing quickly with hellish intent.

“Did I tell you that you could touch?” He murmurs, releasing his grip on your hair to pluck your hand off him.

You want to point out that he didn’t seem to have a problem with that when he’d been half-thrusting into your hand, but the look in his eyes silences the retort on your lips. So you let him grip your wrist, and your throat, sure he can feel the heavy pound of your pulse as you whimper at the interruption.

“I just want a little taste,” you plead, jutting your bottom lip out and batting your thick lashes up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze.

Scott just shakes his head. And you feel the coil of defiance begin again.

“Don’t you want my tongue on you, sir? Licking up every thick inch of you? Seeing how much I can take in my hot little mouth?” You know you’re pushing it with how his grip on your wrist tightens, but fuck, you needed to feel him, to touch him, especially after he’d denied you the pleasure of it for so long.

You shift so your free hand wraps around his shaft again. Scott grunts as he watches you play with him, your small hand moving effortlessly along his girth. With both his hands occupied, he has nothing to stop you from doing what you want, what you need, as your gaze flickers down to openly admire his masculinity. “Don’t I look so pretty when I choke on you, baby?”

Despite how his gaze darkens and he twitches in your hand, Scott releases your wrist enough to rest his hand on the edge of the backseat, his brow raising. “You’d look prettier if you listened, sweetheart.”

The condescending nickname rolls through you, your face twisting in disgust at it — he knew you hated it, knew it reminded you of the old men who often tried to make passes at you. It disgusts you enough that you release him from your grip, watching a smile slowly spread on his face.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to sound weak with his fist still around you.

“And I thought I told you to listen, but you don’t seem to be doing a good job of that even after the belt.” He shifts his grip from the front of your neck to the back of it, pulling you closer. “What’s my name?”

You hesitate at how hard his gaze is trained on you. “Sir.”

He nods. “And what did you call me earlier?”

Oh. As the dots connect, realization flickering across your features, Scott’s eyes mirror your understanding. He doesn’t give you a chance to say it, continuing, “Until you can learn to listen, you don’t get to cum until I say so.”

You wait for a day, an end time, something that’ll make counting the days at least a little worthwhile — but it never comes. Instead, he just stares at you, waiting for you to defy him again, waiting for you to open your mouth, to push back. But his fingers twitch like he’s going to reach for his belt again, and the thought of that on your already raw backside makes a whimper escape.

“I understand, sir.”

His gaze softens for a moment — and a small part of you hopes that he changes his mind, that he’ll take it back… But Scott was never that type of man. Once something was final, it was final. No amount of begging or pleading could win your case.

He cups your face in his hands like he knows what he’s asking may push you past your breaking point. Never in the months you’ve been together has he implemented something indefinitely, but you’ve never pushed back this much. When his mouth roams over yours, gentle given the circumstances, you taste the sharp spearmint of his gum as his tongue explores you, soothing your whimpers and whines until you’re somewhat relaxed under his touch.

“Are you going to be a good girl if I let you blow me, honey?” He asks, lips ghosting over your mouth, your jaw, pressing a kiss against the column of your throat. You nod, not trusting your voice. “I mean it. No whining. No pleading. No biting.” His gaze flickers up to yours as a memory passes through both of you, your cheeks heating up, caught. He knew you too fucking well. “If I want you to choke on me, you’re going to choke. If I want you to wrap those pretty lips around my head, you will. And if I want your mouth not on me at all…”

“I’ll listen, sir,” you promise, breathless, squirming with need.

Scott’s eyes flash with approval, pressing one more kiss to your mouth before he settles back down against the leather. You follow, slow, cautious, your hands pressing into his thighs as he grips himself.

And when you wrap your lips around him, everything else fades away. You take him at his pace, slower than you would prefer but dutifully obeying his silent instructions, your hair coiled around his fist. The taste of him on your tongue has your eyes glazing over with desire, flickering up to watch him watch you, your head bobbing around his length, spit sliding down his shaft as he makes you take him deeper, deeper, until he’s hitting the back of your throat and there’s still inches between you.

Scott groans as he pushes you further, trained on how your body instinctively fights him, taking his cock entirely in your mouth when your nose brushes the soft skin of his abdomen. Your core drips with need, soaking your panties, at the guttural sound that escapes him: all masculine and intoxicating. You crave more of it, more of his approval, more of him — but he pulls you off with a pop, a trail of saliva traveling from his swollen head to your mouth, before doing it again and again, each time longer than the last.

“So fucking good,” he pants, pulling you off him again, his eyes blown as you suck on his tip like a lollipop.

Your tongue swirls around his head, wrapping your hands around the rest of him that you don’t swallow, little moans escaping.

And then he’s pressing you back down again, his grip holding you stationary as he thrusts into you like he can’t help himself, every action powerful and erotic as the sound of your throat taking his vigorous pace fills the truck. As he fucks your mouth, you knead your breast in your hand, pinching hard at your nipple when the desire to slip your hand between your thighs nearly overcomes you.

Scott watches it all with a growing arousal, his voice deep as he groans. “Fuck, honey, just like that. Want you to remember this next time you think of talking back,” he says, eyes closing briefly at how good you feel. “So fucking perfect with my cock down your throat. Does that make you hot, honey? Wanna rub that fucking clit while I fuck your face?”

You moan around him in response, something between a yes and a please that sounds more muffled than an actual word. Every time you take him deeper you feel that hot flash of aching desire pulse through you, your blood hot, sure that even through your panties you were dripping all over his leather seats.

The thought has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Scott’s growls turn positively primal as he pulls you off. “Keep making that face and I’m gonna cum right down that pretty throat.” He lifts enough to bring you to your knees, wrapping an arm around you to pull you flush against him as he drags his heavy touch along your naked frame. “You don’t want that, do you, honey? Fuck, I can smell how soaked you are for me.”

He wastes no time as he slips his hand beneath your panties, fingers sliding easily between your slicked folds as he groans. “My dirty girl. You like my filthy fucking mouth, honey, is that it?” Scott pushes a finger inside you, your body arching up into his as you nod, a breathy noise escaping. “Like when I tell you how good you feel? How fucking hard it gets me? How I dream about fucking you every single night when I’m away?”

God, yes. You assumed — but never asked — about what he thought when he couldn’t be near you, but the confirmation that you were on his mind just as much as he was on yours makes you clench around his finger.

“I’m gonna taste you,” Scott promises, his voice ragged. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll hear you in the city.”

It’s all the warning you get before he presses you down onto the seat, his mouth capturing yours as he settles atop you. Your body is pliant underneath his, gripping every inch of him, while he trails his mouth along your soft skin. Fuck, you felt like heaven to him — so smooth to his calloused hands.

And you made the prettiest noises when his mouth descended on your nipple, sucking and flicking at the hardened nub before giving equal attention to the other, all too aware of how your hips roll helplessly as he kisses his way down your tummy.

“I love how desperate you get,” he groans, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties, drawing them down your legs. He nudges your legs apart with his nose, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of your thigh. Thick fingers spread your folds apart as he takes you in, the touch making you reach for something to hold onto.

“Please,” you whine, running your fingertips along his shoulder, propping yourself up as he sucked a possessive mark into your thigh. Scott just hums, moving to the other, relishing in the sharp intake of breath as he nips at you. “Please make me feel good, sir?”

“You gonna be good for me?” He asks again, blue eyes flicking up to meet yours, his question serious as he nears the apex of your thighs.

You nod, tongue darting out between your lips as his focus momentarily breaks, darting down to watch how his fingers slide effortlessly over you, teasing your clit. “I’ll be good, sir, I swear.” Just as long as he keeps touching you like that, you’ll agree to anything.

Scott hums, playing with you for long enough that you think he’ll tease you into oblivion. But then his tongue darts out. licking a hot stripe up your center, and he groans, and you… You have just enough time to fall back to seat before his mouth is upon you.

The way he claims you with his tongue makes the wait worth it. Scott isn’t shy about feasting on you, his wet fingers slipping to spread your thighs further apart for him, lapping at you like your pussy is a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer day. Every swirl of his tongue, every flick against your clit, every long drag that has you gasping for breath, your mouth falling open while he readjusts his grip to keep you steady.

Scott groans as he collects your desire on his tongue, pulling back enough to revel at how spread open you are for him. He spits, the lewd action making your head spin, before his fingers rub it through your folds, circling your entrance while his other reaches up to knead your breast.

“I wish we had hours for this.” The admission is low in his voice, ragged from claiming you, pressing a kiss to your thigh as you try to still your hips against his torturous fingers. “Just as sweet as I remember, honey. Better. Fuck, you taste so…”

He doesn’t finish his thought, descending upon you again as his mouth attaches to your clit. You cry out at the special attention he gives it, teasing you just right, his tongue swirling and flicking and lips closing around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips move on their own accord, fingers digging into his brown curls as you grind in time with his tongue. Scott gasps as his touch abandons you to stroke himself, the angle uncomfortable in the cramped space of his backseat.

You clamp down on your bottom lip when your orgasm builds faster than you expect it to, hoping to stifle the increase of noise as he brings you closer and closer. Scott just keeps his brutal pace, those dark blue eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“Sir—” Your breath comes out hot when he groans, the vibrations of it nearly toppling you over the edge. You want so desperately to listen, fighting the way he coaxes it quicker, something heady and mischievous sparkling in those eyes, but it’s too much, he’s too much, that invisible rubber band pulling tighter and tighter, your control slipping, the wet sounds of his tongue dragging over your heat too much to bear—

You scream out as Scott pulls away entirely from you, all that tension coiling tight with nowhere to release, and watch helplessly as his expression flickers somewhere between smug and disappointed. You tremble against the loss, little twitches that give away how close you were from disobedience, your whine high and keening.

“Oh, honey, were you close?” Scott coos, his tone full of condescension as he rests his cheek on your thigh, an evil, wicked, vile grin teasing the corners of his mouth. You glare at the dimple in his cheek. “You think I’m dumb enough to not know when you are? That your pussy doesn’t tell me when you’re trying to be quiet? I know all your tells, honey. Every. Single. One.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his palm coming down hard against your open heat. The slap has you spiraling, a cry escaping you as your back arches up off the leather, the pain lingering uncomfortably as your ass grinds against the seat. Scott wastes no time crawling up your body, swallowing all your pitiful noises as you taste yourself on his tongue.

His teeth sink into your bottom lip as he pulls away. “Not tonight, honey.”

Your heart seizes in your chest at the confirmation — having suspected it, but half-hoping that he’d forgive your past sins if you were good enough. Scott just grins, lifting so all his weight isn’t settled atop you, running his hands down the still-twitching frame of your body, pushing his jeans down further as one hand drags along your hip.

“Please?” You beg, taking his face in your hands, blinking big doe eyes up at him. “I can’t—”

“You can.” His confidence in you is unwavering, pausing his movements to give you his undivided attention. One kiss, two, three, to the corner of your mouth, each softer than the last, bringing you down from a high he stole away. “We’ll test those limits properly another time. I have so many ideas…” He trails off with a groan, seeming to think better of listing all the ways he could make you bend to his will. “But you can. And you will.”

A whimper escapes at the finality, but you manage a weak nod. It’s all the encouragement Scott needs to draw your leg around his hip, slotting himself between your parted legs. The weight of him dragging through your slicked folds presses a gasp into his shoulder, your arms sliding around his broad frame.

And then he’s sinking into you, stealing the breath from your lungs as your taut body stretches to accommodate his size.

He’s massive — and delicious and throbbing and every other perfect word in the dictionary as you forget how to breathe, how to think, the more he buries himself inside you. You hear his strangled moan against your neck as your head tosses back, pulling him closer, hissing as he draws back just to press right back into you.

He works you just like that for what feels like hours, pushing and pulling, slow as he presses kisses to your skin, holding your hips steady. You know he’s holding himself back, that he’s letting your body get used to him after so long apart, after little more than a press of his fingers and tongue at your entrance. It makes your heart flutter in your chest — he could have fucked his way ruthlessly through you and you would’ve taken every second of it just the same, but the fact that he pauses to take his time now, to lengthen a moment that he shouldn’t be having in the first place…

God. You loved him.

You both moan as he bottoms out inside you, his hips driving forward just a little further on instinct. “Fucking missed this,” Scott pants, careful as he slides a palm under you, lifting your ass off the seat to thrust inside you again. Your gentle touch trails across his broad shoulders and down his arms, a silent message for him to keep going.

And then he fucks you like he promised.

It’s a combination of everything: the time apart, the time you had left, how neither of you could seem to get close enough to each other. He splits you apart and brings you back together with every snap of his hips, filling you exactly how you need, gasping against each other as you angle up to meet him halfway.

Your mouth presses feverishly to his, the sound of your desperate moans filling the small space against the way your body greedily accepts his. Scott stalls his tempo just enough to pull away, sliding his hands back to your hips to lift you onto him before returning to his brutal pace, the new angle giving you a perfect view of his cock stretching you out.

“Being so good for me,” Scott hums, pleased, his fingers splaying over your belly as he ruts deeper into you. The intensity of it, of him, makes you blink back stars as his heady gaze is trained on yours, grabbing onto him as he continues, “Feels so fucking good, honey, fuck.“

Your eyes slip down to watch as he slides in you, the sight of him hard and coated with your arousal making you moan. Scott grips the back of your neck to keep you there, your body curled up into whatever mold he desires, pressing your knee back to the cushion as he shifts himself closer.

“Dirty fucking girl, you like that?” Scott’s voice turns guttural with how you tighten around him, your pretty moans like music to his ears, “Like watching your little pussy take my cock? Seeing how fucking good I stretch you out?”

You nod, another moan spilling from your mouth, only to whimper when he slides fully out of you. The crude smack of his cock against your clit only makes you hotter, your skin on fire as he plays with you, always in control. “Tell me,” he groans, teasing as he grinds himself against you. “Let me hear you, honey.”

“I love it,” you pant, unable to tear your gaze away from his thick length. You want desperately to reach down and press him where you crave him most, but you resist, fingers curling into fists at his sides as you plead, “Please fill me up, sir, I need it. Need you to fuck me, need you to claim me, need you to make this little pussy all fucking yours, please.”

It’s all Scott needs to press into you again, his pace hard and demanding with your wishes. He slides an arm underneath you to hold you steady, his teeth leaving marks on your neck, your shoulder, your collar, pressing moans into your skin with every rough piston of his hips, the sound of skin on skin, and your hard, labored breathing filling the space. And then he’s flipping you over, your hands and knees pressing into the leather as you push back against him, delirious with the new angle as he tugs you up, your back to his chest.

The possessive, strong grip on your waist slides up to knead your breast while he thrusts into you from behind, his lips at your ear, growling every profanity under the sun.

“This what you want, honey?” His hips snap hard into you, the contact against your sensitive ass making your eyes roll back into your head. The mix of the pleasure and the pain he gives you is unlike anything else you’ve ever felt. Scott always finds the perfect balance, his hand sliding between your thighs to tease your clit, your body wanton against him. “Being claimed? Owning you completely?” At your answering moan, he grins. “Could you handle it? Being mine in every way?”

“Yes,” you moan, trying in vain not to swirl your hips and failing, searching for more while he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I’m already yours, sir.”

“Yeah, honey, I feel it.” They come out strangled as you clench around him, your body responding eagerly to every touch. “So sweet right now, aren’t you? Wanna cum so badly, don’t you?” You whimper out as he angles himself deeper inside you, hitting that spongey spot in time with his ministrations. It’s hard to breathe, hard to think, as he finds the perfect pace to drive you closer to the edge, dangling just on the precipice of release. “Bet you’d agree to anything right now just to cum, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Head tossing back against his shoulder, you dig your nails into his jeans where you hold him to you, looking at but not seeing the reflection of how he commands you, his mouth drawing along your neck. “Please,” you beg, trembling with the exertion of holding yourself together. “Scott— Sir, please, I’m so close—”

“I know.” Cooed, mockingly, along the column of your throat, he ceases every torturous move as he stills inside of you, his hands quick to press your hips down against his. The sudden lack of attention makes you cry out, chest heaving, as he steals your orgasm away again, the frustration and desire mixing until you’re growling through clenched teeth.

Scott just grins, watching it all with a gleeful expression, that dark look swirling in his eyes as he doesn’t dare move an inch. “You can be as nice as you want, honey,” He presses a patronizing kiss to your shoulder, that alone having you twitching against him, small little sounds that you can’t control escaping as he toys with your fraying edges. “I’m still not letting you cum tonight.”

“But—” You think better against talking back, clamping your mouth shut as you whimper again. “When?”

“When you’ve earned it.” Scott slides his hands over your body, dragging along your peaked nipples, taking both breasts in his large hands and groaning as he touches you. “You want to earn it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasp automatically, your hands fisting handfuls of his brown locks as he sucks another possessive mark on you. “Please, sir.”

“How far would you go?” His voice carries that inquisitive tone that speaks of danger, the kind that has your cunt fluttering around him in response. He grunts against you at the sensation, still unmoving, just thick and hard and throbbing in you enough to leave your mind reeling. Your breath stalls when his touch wanders down to press at your belly. “Would you let me cum inside you?”

Every thought in your brain scatters at those words, wanting and needing before you can even voice it. He’s never asked; always pulling out to paint your chest, your back, your face. But the way he asks, his voice quiet yet desperate, the unmistakable edge to it that tells you he’s been thinking about it for a while, waiting for the right time, the right moment — suddenly his insistence on if you’d brought your birth control comes to the front of your mind, and you know. Know he’s been planning this. That if it weren’t here, it would’ve been sometime this weekend.

Scott is patient as he lets it all sink in, studying you, waiting for a shift of an expression, or your body responding against his desires. Something dark awakens in him at your whimper of approval.

“You’d look so fucking pretty like that,” he continues, slowly resuming his pace, much slower now than it was before, as he groans every fantasy he’s dreamt of for the past week into you. “So full of my cum… It wouldn’t all fit, would it, honey? But you’d beg me, wouldn’t you? Beg me to fuck it deeper in your sweet cunt?” Your breath labors as he grunts out, teeth sinking into your skin. “Beg me to put a baby in you?”

Fuck, yes.

You writhe against him with every word out of his mouth, your moans spilling freely as you nod, desperate, agreeable, unaware of how much he wanted it, obsessed about it. How the sight of you in his clothes made him want to put a ring on your finger, how every time you came over to his place he had to fight to ask you to move in, how the idea of your belly swollen with his child made him so horny he couldn’t think about anything else some days, how the thought of you and forever were so intertwined to him now that he couldn’t imagine anyone else to spend the rest of his life with.

All sappy, sentimental things that he didn’t dare voice, locked tight between his teeth, letting only a little spill out.

The need to own you, to claim you, was overwhelming. Scott wanted nothing more than to fuck you hard enough to make your brain flicker off until you couldn’t even speak, until you were completely at his mercy, until every drop of him was spent inside you. Possession and desire bleed into one — just waiting, aching, throbbing, bruisingly so, for your voiced consent.

“I need it,” you finally choke out, trembling, your voice utterly broken. “Please give it to me, sir? Please, please, pretty please?”

Scott moans, long and deep and loud, as he buries his face in the curve of your neck. And then he’s pounding into you, every muscle of his body pulled tight as you wrap around him like velvet perfection, his grip hard and unyielding against your hips as every rough slam of his hips into yours sends your body jolting forward. Your hand slaps to the window in front of you, leaving prints against the foggy glass, and he follows greedily, pressing his weight into you as he spreads your thighs further apart with a growl, fucking you into the seats.

Your orgasm painfully lingers, every needy moan spilling from your mouth only driving him further into you, wild with need, no longer the controlled man you knew but something more animalistic, primal.

“Fucking take it just like that,” he growls, not even sounding human, every word gritted through his teeth as you feel every thick inch of him around your slick walls, his hand slotted between your thighs to part your folds, sinking deeper until there’s no space left. “F-fuck, that’s so fucking— Perfect, honey, fuck— Pussy’s fucking made for me—”

He’s close — you can feel it in the way his thrusts grow uneven as he chases his release, the way he roughly grasps your chin to kiss you, sloppy and more tongue than lips, how his fingers leave Scott-shaped bruises wherever he grips you, his blunt nails biting into your hip, your sides, your breasts as he struggles for purchase. You don’t realize you’re sobbing in pleasure until he wipes your tears away, until he praises how good you’re being taking him like this, groaning when your body responds eagerly to his positivity.

You dance in time with him, meeting him halfway, angling your hips up just right. And you feel, rather than hear, the way Scott moans in ecstasy as he finds that perfect spot in your heat, numb to anything and everything that isn’t his thick cock pounding your weeping, used hole.

You think you cum — or maybe it’s just the last shreds of sanity leaving as Scott reaches his peak, nothing but your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you with his seed, rutting up against you until it’s painful, the warmth of him spreading into you. His heart pounds against you as he slips his hand to your belly, pressing you closer, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as his hips twitch until he’s emptied out, fucking the last drops of his cum into you exactly like he’s dreamt.

And when you come down your orgasm sits uncomfortably high and untouched, a broken sob escaping you as he pulls out with a wet pop.

You feel his cum slide down your swollen cunt and flinch with sensitivity as he’s quick to collect himself on his fingers, fucking it back into you. The tension coils tightly inside of you until you’re sure you’re begging him to stop, the pleasure and pain completely overwhelming, exhausted with the effort of obeying his orders as he presses his digits into your used hole.

When you think just about to break, he stops.

And you know you’re going to kill him as he steals your release for a third time.

“Good girl,” Scott whispers, pressing kisses along your soft skin, his hands soothing every part of your twitching frame. You don’t have the strength to ask for more as he pulls you into his arms after sliding your panties back into place, letting you come down as he finds his peace in caring for you, murmuring sweet nothings while your body is pliant against him.

You nuzzle into him when you feel more in control of yourself, your heart slowing to a more steady pace. His name falls softly from your lips, your arms snaking around him to hold him close, his fingertips soft along the small of your back.

When he presses his mouth to yours, you melt into his embrace, exploring him lazily until he’s pulling away, brushing your unruly hair out of your face. “Mine.” He praises with a smile, that dark expression gone, leaving nothing but bright, shining blues you could drown in for hours. “All fucking mine. I own you.”

“Mmm,” Despite the weary in your bones, you can’t help but smile back, a giggle escaping, “Do you?”

Scott doesn’t need to slip his hand between your legs for you to get the picture, just hooks a finger along the waistband of your ruined panties. “You just let me prove it, honey.” He leans forward to kiss you again, slower this time, before pulling away with a regretful sigh when the distinctive chime of his phone goes off. “Need help getting back in your seat?”

“Already?” You whine.

“Gotta go, honey.” He taps your hip, twice. Non-negotiable. “Come on, before the bears smell you and want you for themselves.”

That has you cracking a grin. “You wouldn’t fight a bear for me?”

“What do you think the murder kit is for?” One last kiss to your mouth. “’Course I would. Just not tonight.”

You pout further, but let him grab your long-forgotten clothes off the floor, making yourself presentable again before he does the same. And when you settle back into the passenger seat as he starts the engine, you let your head rest against the window, bubbly and content and happy. Even if you know it won’t last when he has to leave.

As Scott drives through the familiar city streets, you hate the knot of apprehension that clogs your throat when your mind wanders too far about him being gone. Out on the field, anything could happen, even if it was just one of his routine visits. The people he spoke with — if he approached the wrong one, it would be so easy for them to lash out. Scott was a big man, he could take care of himself, but that didn’t stop your fears from pressing down against you.

His hand is firm on your thigh, thumb stroking soft lines in your skin as he catches your expression. And then his truck takes a turn in the opposite direction of your apartment, heading toward his house.

“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion as you try to shake off your emotions.

Scott’s grip on the steering wheel tightens just a fraction, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “My place,” he answers simply. “You’ve been up all night, and I’m not about to drop you off and leave you alone like that.”

You frown, the earlier emotions fighting to come back; you glance quickly out the window, cheeks flaming as you’re caught, hating that he’d noticed your weakness. “I’m fine, Scott. I can—”

“No,” he cuts in gently, but firmly. “You need rest. And I’ll rest better knowing you’re somewhere comfortable.” His eyes flick toward you, catching your reflection in the dim light of the street lamps. “Besides,” he adds, his voice lowering to something more intimate, “I’ve got a bed that’s been missing you.”

It’s not a request, and the way he says it makes your heart skip. You know he’s right. As much as you’d wanted to protest, the thought of sleeping alone in your own bed feels wrong, especially with the lingering warmth of his touch still buzzing under your skin.

By the time you pull into his driveway, the familiar sight of his place is almost a comfort in itself. Scott’s fingers brush over your thigh before he parks the truck, a silent reassurance. “I’ll be gone for a few days,” he murmurs, shutting off the engine, “but I want you here. I want you safe.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with a meaning he’s too stubborn to say out loud, but you feel it all the same. He reaches over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your cheek. “Let me make sure you’re okay.”

You nod, unable to find the words, so you just lean into his touch. Scott doesn’t need more than that. He’s out of the truck and rounding it to your side before you can even blink, opening your door and offering his hand.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he says softly, tugging you out and pulling you close against him. His arm slips around your waist as he guides you to the front door, his hold steady and reassuring.

Once inside, the warmth of his home envelops you both, and you feel the tension in your shoulders start to melt away. He’s quick to guide you to his bedroom, knowing the layout of his place better than anyone, but still taking the time to make sure you’re comfortable, handing you one of his shirts to sleep in.

As you slip under the covers, Scott pauses at the edge of the bed, eyes lingering on you. “Get some sleep,” he tells you, his voice gruff but tinged with affection. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You reach for him, and he doesn’t hesitate to slide in beside you, pulling you against his chest. For a moment, you both just lie there, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothing you into a drowsy haze. Scott presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively over your hip.

“Sleep, honey,” he murmurs, his voice the last thing you hear before sleep claims you.

In the morning, you wake to the sound of his alarm, the room still dark. Scott’s already dressed, but he hasn’t left yet. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a softness in his eyes that he rarely lets show. He reaches out, brushing his fingers through your hair as you try to rustle yourself awake.

“Go back to sleep,” he says quietly, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I’ll be back in a few days. Promise.”

Before you can respond, he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his lips. You smile, eyes fluttering shut as you drift back into a peaceful slumber, the last thing you feel is the comforting weight of his hand slipping from yours.

When you finally rise, well rested but achey from the night’s exertions, the sun is high in the afternoon sky and his house is empty, his truck missing from the garage. You wander into the kitchen in search of a cup of tea, pulling the kettle out from underneath his cabinet. And when the steaming mug is in your hands, settling into the breakfast nook that overlooks his backyard, your eyes fall upon his jacket, folded neatly atop all the stuff he’d unpacked while you were sleeping.

And you know he loves you as much as you love him.

#twisters #twisters x reader #scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #scott (twisters)#scott (twisters) x reader #scott miller #scott miller x reader #scott twisters x you #scott twisters x y/n #scott miller x you #*fic #**#fic: roadtrip.

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c-nstellati-ns · 3 months ago

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APOLLO, GOD OF MUSIC ... — conquest x medic!superhero!m!reader prt.1

you were retired, for gods sake. why in the hell would everything go to shit exactly when you were on vacation? you struggled to even comprehend the fact that there were more than one invincibles flying around, and now the city was falling apart all around you? retired or not, there were people who needed help and that's what you planned to do, no matter how reluctant you were about it. ... so how the hell did you manage to get yourself wrapped up with the very alien who was turning this city into a fine dust?

> author's note — this is incredibly self-indulgent and the first time i've written in literal months LOL so sorry for being inactive for so long !! this was inspired by dj subatomic supernova from NSR, lucio from overwatch and luna snow from marvel rivals ... i love me a silly guy who makes music and heals people via that music :-) not that subatomic heals people ... more like ........ he tries to kill them via music and his planets ........ but whatever !!! this is irrelevant !!!!!! ( i was gonna have this be smut originally but i like where i ended off to continue into a part two soon ^_^ so sorry if anything is bad i am very rusty ... feel free to send me some thirsts in my inbox if you'd like! ) > word count — 1.6k > featuring — our fave viltrumite, conquest <3 > cw — intentional lower case, canon typical violence, unspoken death threats? nothing much really its mostly establishing how your relationship came to be before things get steamy LOL so sorry for the bait

MDNI. 18+ ACCOUNT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

you had parted ways with the GDA some time ago, marking it off as a need for something new. you could only fight so long, for so much. you had been in the spotlight ever since your powers had finally developed, being someone who could virtually heal anything with the power of music. it was rather silly in your eyes but it made you and anyone you wanted to protect virtually invincible. any wounds or injuries would mend in seconds in your presence, people feeling safe around you, other heroes feeling energised to keep on fighting. at some point, you felt the same way until… you didn't. it had only been a matter of time, after all.

the GDA was desperate to keep you so you kept their number just in case things were to happen. that is, until something finally did happen. it was a random tuesday, you think. you had been on the way to your hotel in the city for your little vacation, you had been waiting for so long for it. tapping into your savings from working with the guardians to afford it. you were happy, life was good. you had a nice car, a nice place far from the city, a couple dogs, cats, and one snake that you loved dearly. you were single, not that you minded much actually.

so what exactly happened? how the hell did your car end up split in half by falling debris and cradling the lifeless body of some innocent civilian that got extremely unlucky? you could barely wrap your mind around it.

it was hard to try and keep your music up enough to keep yourself safe, but to try and sweep in and aid those who were helpless was something else entirely. you let out a loud groan of frustration as you carefully set the body down somewhere undisturbed, making a mental note to come back for it later. you had to keep up, getting as many people out of there as you could, but there was always the few that escaped your grasp, all falling victim to some horrible fate that no amount of healing nor music could help. you couldn't get distracted.

you were glad you had kept the equipment the GDA had made for you, even gladder to have kept it close. the music coming off of the holographic speakers around you was loud, a beacon of hope in the midst of the destruction around you, but it kept people safe and you kept playing. you kept far away from the fighting as much as you could, ushering innocents away from their very close deaths. of course, you were putting a big ole target on your head with how loud it all was, but you couldn't care less. sounds waves were blasting anything that came your way, cracking open asphalt that trapped some poor kid underneath it all. you could spot the blood pooling next to him, his mother probably. you grimaced and carried him away, making sure to heal whatever cuts and bruises he had. thankfully, unharmed physically. mentally… you wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.

you were doing your job well, keeping things somewhat peaceful until you spotted a stray arm sticking out of some debris. you quickly flew over, pushing off any concrete that held this person down. your heart beating frantically in your chest, you dug as much as you could, hoping that they didn't die before you got there. you grabbed at their hand and pulled as much as you could, using your sound waves to blast at the concrete as you did so. you let out a sigh of relief as you felt the warm from their palm, squeezing it in reassurance. you passed your fingers over their wrist, trying to find their pulse but no dice. so you used your powers to heal whatever injuries they might've sustained, a soothing melody that has the person feeling mushy.

"hey, are you okay?!" you shouted over the chaos around you, hand reaching out to grip at their shoulder. you pulled as hard as you can, thinking to yourself, holy fuck this guy is heavy as hell. you were about to yell again until the hand grabbed at your own roughly, your joints creaking in protest as it did so.

"woah--" you couldn't even finish your sentence before a giant man emerged from the rubble in front of you. he was much, much taller than you, and built like a fucking tank. if you weren't scared shitless, you would have asked him where he worked out. your jaw dropped, staring at the stranger before you.

conquest was having fun with this. he was having fun with all of this! this planet's defences were as measly as he had imagined, so it wasn't a surprise when the creatures that inhabited it were squished by a simple rock to their soft spots. but he was pleasantly surprised by its defender. a halfbreed viltrumite, weak like all those other flesh bags, but much more resilient. the worm even got him to bleed, which was a surprise in itself.

so who was this, mending the little scrapes and bruises that his body has yet to heal? why did it feel… good? like a warm feeling throughout his body, a hum of a familiar tune that made him want to… sleep? what the hell was this? it feels odd, he feels light. lighter than he would when he's flying, it was something else entirely. the touch was soft, much unlike he's ever felt before. a gentle squeeze, a faint hold. it was a strange combination, nothing like he's felt before. he let out a rough grunt, grabbing at the hand that was given to him, rising from the rubble he was buried underneath.

conquest brought up the creature that had healed him by the arm, thick brows furrowed as he stared down at it. it was fearful, trying to wrestle out of his iron grip and escape. but the viltrumite was curious about it now, who exactly was this worm? and was it so stupid to not know its own enemy?

you were gonna throw up. of course, of course you healed the wrong person. just your luck that you had healed THE VERY FUCKING THING THAT WAS CAUSING ALL THIS DEATH AND DESTRUCTION IN THE FIRST PLACE. you let out a pained noise as his grip around your wrist tightened, trying to just get away. you could keep yourself safe when fighting anything but a viltrumite? this was something else entirely.

you were smarter than to try and use your offensive powers against him, so instead, you allowed yourself to play a somewhat scattered melody to heal the broken bones within your hand and wrist. he tilted his head to the side, examining you like a piece of meat. i suppose that was what you were now. a stupid, musical adept piece of meat for him to tear into.

closing your eyes, you couldn't believe this was the day you would die. you didn't even get to take your vacation.

… but nothing happens? it's been a couple minutes, he should've killed you by now. you crack your eye open and take a look at him, startled by his one eyed gaze. his pupils are slits, examining you like you were some foreign… thing. and then he smiles. it's an unsettling one, but he grabs you by the waist, a much gentler hold than what he had on your wrist.

"you're the foolish one who helped me, aren't you?" his deep voice rings out over your healing melody and the rumbling chaos around you both.

you're speechless for a moment before nodding frantically, looking around for anything, anyone. unfortunately, no dice. it was just you, him and the fuck metric ton of dead bodies that he caused around you.

"hmm…" conquest mutters to himself. it was a strange feeling, the closer you were to him, the more that strange warm feeling seeped deep into his bones. he couldn't help but let out a deep purr that rattled you silly. he was like a big cat to you, a big, murderous psychotic cat. with his arms around you, it was… comforting? in a really, really fucked up way. you swallowed thickly as you stared up at him as he smiled down at you, what the fuck is going on?

"what is your name, worm?" the stranger asked, examining your face closely as he spoke. your mouth was dry, gaping like a fish out of water. his arms was tightening around you the longer you took to answer him and you stammered out your full legal out of sheer nervousness. he didn't seem like a patient man at all.

he repeats it under his breath, it rolls off nicely on his tongue. his arms lighten around your waist, your ribs definitely bruised after all this. you let out a groan, brain too scattered to make a coherent melody to heal yourself. instead, you looked back to him as his grin widened. crooked teeth and a prominent scar, you would have called him handsome if you weren't actively in danger of being ripped apart by this alien.

"… perhaps lord thragg wouldn't mind if i kept a pet, hm?" conquest purrs, that metallic hand reaching up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "a healing songbird, doesn't that sound nice? my little songbird." you barely have enough time to speak before he takes off with you in his arms, away from the destruction and chaos that he caused.

mark was clueless as to why conquest had disappeared all of the sudden. in a blink of an eye, he was alone, beaten and bruised on the ground. it gave him time to breathe but it was nerve wracking to think about.

What the fuck just happened?

#achilles' scripts 🌟#this was sooo fun omfg #Its been legit years since ive written a full thing #im laughing so hard that a show like invincible brought me out of my writer's slump #part 2 should come this wednesday!#invincible #conquest invincible #conquest #conquest x reader #conquest x male reader #top male reader #superhero reader #male reader #invincible x male reader #invincible x reader #conquest x you #invincible brainrot

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flw3rrr · 11 months ago

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Could you please do one where the reader is Javis sister and she barley survived the tornado five years early. She’s married to Tyler now and something goes wrong during a chase and the reader ends up getting severely hurt and Tyler and Javi risk everything to save her. She’s unresponsive but ends up being okay

Promise me

Tyler owens x fem!reader

Warnings: slight Swearing, injured reader, Angst, Fluff, No mentions of Y/n, flashbacks to trauma

word count: 2k

A/N: Tysm for this request! I hope this goes to your Liking and please feel free to request more💖

Have a request? feel free to send me it in my inbox!

The only thing you could hear was your bother. Javi was screaming your name in the distance as you laid on the grass, your vision almost a blur as you stared at the gray sky above you. Everything felt slow and calm, as if everything was alright. But nothing was alright, barely surviving an EF5 with harsh winds throwing you around at a failed attempt to capture data of the tornado.

Not even noticing or feeling the intense pain within your lower body, just staring at the sky as if it were comforting you. In a blur, Javi stood above you, looking almost horrified as he looked over your body. immediately taking notice, a wood peace of a fence went through your right leg. "Stay awake, alright?" Shaking you slightly to keep your brain still aware. The rest of his words were muffled, not minding as you felt something pulling you above.

The last thing you heard from Javi was him yelling at you in a panic to try to stay awake more and wait for the paramedics to come rescue you before your vision went black in the most peaceful way you ever felt.

Five years later

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror at the gas station, letting the cold water run over your hands as you cleaned them thoroughly, getting rid of any germs you had on your hands for just being in the bathroom. Your wedding ring getting more shiny as the water ran through it. Bringing a smile to your face just five years ago, you were on the edge of death and now a happily married woman to none other than Tyler Owens. The tornado wrangler.

A knock broke your train of thought as Lily spoke from behind the door. "Are you almost done? Some of us have to use the bathroom too, yknow?!" Quickly drying your hands before opening the door to meet Lily. "Yeah, I'm done now. Sorry, I was just in my own world for a quick second." letting out a little laugh.

Patting your shoulder as Lily closes the door shut quickly with the sound of the lock turning. Turning away and approaching Dexter, who stood in the aisle looking at the batteries. "Need extras?" You asked, crossing your arms.

Along with Dexter and Dani, you helped them a bit with navigation, but mostly you hung out in the truck with Tyler, Boone, and Javi. Having to take it easy since the injury that took place on your leg left you weak and needed an easier job.

Having such love for this job made you never want to quit at all. As soon as you were discharged from the hospital, you wanted to go back out, but with ears full from Javi and other friends, you waited. Three years later, you still were getting the strength you had on your leg. It was hard as the years went by as Javi went on to continue to storm chase, then some time in the military. But it was all worth it as you met Tyler, who brought more happiness to your life and as well some new friends.

"Not really, but I'm getting some of these just in case you'll never know when something happens." Dexter's voice pulls you out of your thoughts once more. "Ah well, you're right on that one; you can never be sure." Giving a warm smile before hearing a voice behind speaking up. "Be sure of what?" Tyler's voice was heard as his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him lovingly.

Just at the sound of his voice, it already has you a blushing mess, it doesn't matter if both of you are married; you'd never get over it. He always treated you fairly and kindly and with respect, and you gave the same in return.

Looking up at him with a big smile and back to Dexter. "He was just telling me he's getting extra batteries just in case, y'know?" Tyler let out a laugh with a shake of his head. "always thinking ahead, which I greatly appreciate. In fact, today is supposed to be easy. With the stats we are seeing, it should be at least something tiny." Now walking out of the building with Tyler and approaching Javi, Dani, and Boone, who was checking the camera storage.

"How you feelin'?" Javi asked as you approached him by the truck. Javi has always worried for you since the injury and always double checks if you're sure you'd like to continue on. It always made you smile though; Javi was the best brother you could ask for, and you'd never wished to replace him ever.

"I am feeling good, Javi; no need to worry about me. I don't need two people to keep checking up on me every second." Tyler also always asked you if you wanted to join and go through, and it made you always feel like the safest person on earth.

Just earning a small nod from him before Tyler spoke once to the whole group, announcing one minute left before heading out. Crossing your arms, you looked at the sky. The wind was not strong, but it made your stomach turn, feeling a sense of unease and worry. Taking deep breaths to desperately fight the flashbacks, closing your eyes and trying to focus on the sound of your breaths before a hand sat on your shoulder, taking you back to reality.

Looking over your eyes met Tyler once more; his face looked concerned for you and worried. "Is everything alright, sweetheart?" His voice even carried the sound of concern. Giving him a slight smile as you turn to fully meet him, placing your hands on each side of him and holding onto him. "Of course I'm fine, Tyler. Don't worry about me." Giving a reassuring squeeze before he spoke up.

"But I'm supposed to worry about you; that's my job as your husband. Don't forget that." letting out a slight chuckle and a smile to boost the mood between one another. A chuckle escaped past your lips. Your head landing on his chest, hiding your smirk from his comment. "I could never forget Tyler... I love you too much to ever forget that," a soft smile placed on your lips.

His face lowered down to meet your's to place a soft and quick kiss against your lips. Both of you taking in the moment just the two of you as the wind slowly picked up. "Not to bother your guy's little moment, but uh, it's time to get goin'." Lilly's voice spoke, breaking the moment.

Getting in the back of the truck with Javi as Tyler sat in the driver seat and Boone in the passenger. You usually preferred the back when you felt uneasy, giving a sense of comfort. Just as Tyler started to drive, talking to the viewers through the camera, you and Javi kept an eye on the wind speeds and closely monitored, giving every piece of information to everyone.

Javi looked away for a couple of minutes to talk to the camera, joining in the fun as you kept a close eye on the monitor. The winds picked up speed, the sky got darker, and then rain began to pour down harshly. Glancing up, you look at the funnel slowly forming, doing the math and analyzing the size. This wouldn't be some EF1…

"Woah, do you guys see that now that is a good one?" Tyler spoke to the viewers once more as Boone turned to show it forming. Your body froze, unable to move. Every thought and memory came back in a flash quickly.

"Javi, I need to get this data; it's the most important one I can ever get." You spoke loudly, trying to be heard over the high winds, clutching the computer in your arms tightly. "But you'll get yourself killed; it's not worth it!" Javi yelled, trying to get you back in the van to safety.

Just as you turned back, it was too late, as the large EF5 looked as if it wasn't moving. With a great chance, it was approaching your way.

Coming back to your senses once again as Javi looks at you with worry. "Are you alright? What's the matter?" Both of his hands on your shoulder, Tyler looking at you through the little mirror, as Boone just kept the camera away from you for privacy. Quickly showing your brother the wind speed and then pointing to the almost formed tornado and speaking only five words. "We need to leave now."

But it was too late; it had already formed into a massive EF5. With no little time, Tyler quickly started to drive. Your eyes locked on the tornado in fear. "I can't see shit!" Tyler yelled through the loud rain.

"Just drive go go go!" Boone yelled. Then everything went slow for the second time in your life. The sudden calm feeling you enjoyed and overwhelmed you. You take notice of everyone's expressions. Javi was petrified as his right hand gripped on your arm. Tyler's eyes shut, hands gripping the wheel, his wedding ring shining brightly. And Boone was holding onto the camera dearly.

Then it went back to normal with a sound of a crash, then darkness once more. Perhaps it was how you were meant to go? Or someone above was cradling you in their arms, offering comfort and safety; whatever it was, it felt as if it were a dream.

It only felt as if this comfort lasted a second. The sound of a constant beeping rang through your ears. A feeling of a rough blanket beneath your fingers as you slowly moved them. Then a comforting hand laid on your forehead, slowly stroking your hair. A deep breath leaves from you before your eyes slowly flutter open.

It took time for your eyes to focus as the bright lights lit the hospital room, and the first face you met is with Tyler; he had a cut on his face going over his nose. His smile grew as you made eye contact. "Hey there.." He softly spoke, his hand still slowly stroking your hair. "What.." Your voice hurt, throat was dry, and you had a lot of head pain. He shushed you quietly before placing a loving kiss on your forehead before speaking.

"The truck flipped over... and a lot of crazy things happened. but you were the most injured. Some brain damage and bleeding. but nothing too bad." His face frowned as he gave you the story of what had happened that day.

"How long..?" You slowly leaned up with the help of Tyler and a couple of tears.

"Three weeks." Those words shocked you; it only felt like you were out for a mere second. Taking a good look around the room, you looked and saw flowers and a comfy blanket at the bottom of the bed. "Javi and the others?" You turned your head with a wince.

Tyler gave a kiss to your hand before he took a seat beside the bed. "They are all alright, I promise you. They even visited you, but you won't remember since you were out," letting out a soft laugh. You gave him one in return, which sounded heavenly to him; not hearing your laugh in three weeks was a nightmare for him. not knowing if you'd ever wake up.

Tyler looked at you with such love; his hand never let go of yours. placing one kiss upon your hand once more before speaking. "Can you promise me something?" His eyes looked at you, silently begging you to hear his question, giving him a slight nod. "Promise me that anytime from now on you will always tell me when something feels wrong or you feel uneasy, please." Reading his face, your injury left him tired, eye bags under his eyes, almost as if he waited those three weeks for you to wake up. Placing your hand on his cheek softly, caressing with your thumb before speaking up. "I promise"

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens #twisters #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens imagine #request #requests open #requests are welcome

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goldfades · 5 months ago

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DAYLIGHT! | JOE BURROW⁹

ev's notes: everything will be under the first tag on this post -> ( daylight | joe x kelce!reader ). feel free to send in asks in my inbox, your thoughts are always the reason why series are so fun!!!

⟢ ┈ summary | the youngest kelce has always been somewhat an enigma.

growing up in the shadow of two of the nfl’s biggest personalities, she’s always managed to keep a lower profile, content to let jason and travis soak up the spotlight while she carved out a quieter existence. sure, she’s been spotted at games, made appearances on new heights, and endured the occasional media curiosity that comes with being a kelce—but for the most part, she’s kept her world private. not by accident, either. she’s built a life outside of football, outside of the noise, and she’s been just fine staying in her lane.

until joe burrow happened.

joe has always been a little different from the rest of the league—sharp, calculated, the definition of cool without ever having to try. he’s got that rare ability to command a room without raising his voice, to keep the world at arm’s length while still making everyone want to know more. his private life? practically untouchable. he’s never been one for high-profile romances, never the guy caught slipping up or getting messy in the media.

which is why when the rumors start—quiet at first, then deafening—it doesn’t feel real. the youngest kelce and joe burrow? people don’t know what to do with that information. because on the surface, it doesn’t make sense. she’s spent her whole life avoiding the spotlight. he lives under it.

and suddenly, the girl who never wanted the attention is at the center of everything.

⟢ ┈ playlist

here are the fics i posted before making this an official series: hard launch, first kiss

fics

chapter one | the youngest kelce has spent her whole life navigating the chaos of her famous last name, always lingering in the background while her brothers took center stage. but when travis falls for taylor swift, she suddenly finds herself feeling like a third wheel in her own family. and after your heartbreak with an nba player, you never thought you'd find love again.

chapter two | after running into your ex, you and kylie have some reflection time. joe realizes that his hook-ups aren't fulfilling, but ja'marr reminds him of who he really is underneath all the hurt.

chapter three | you try to move on from a past relationship finds yourself caught between a safe relationship with a new football player and a magnetic attraction to joe burrow. kylie tries to guide you towards stable relationships but you struggle with the lack of passion and excitement in your current romance.

chapter four | after realizing you were in no shape for a relationship, you decide that you were going to focus on yourself -- that is, until joe burrow makes an appearance again, and this time it wasn't so... smooth.

chapter five | you and joe decide it's better to just start over, and it works out pretty well.

blurbs

#( daylight | joe x kelce!reader )#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x you

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planet-dusk · 1 year ago

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tw//cnc, coercion

jisungie and coercion in a cnc roleplay scenario has been plaguing my mind for a while... he's all "please, baby? it hurts... i know you want it, too, right? i'll be quick.. promise"

"just the tip, please, baby. i promise. i love you. need you so much. you love me, too, right?"

which he immediately disobeys and slides right in, "why're you so wet, baby? you really wanted this, didn't you?"

"let me cum inside, babe. it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."

if u have anything to add i might pass away but no pressure. ily ! i'm glad you're back:)

maesie it's so good to see you,, i hope you're doing well! and leaving such a treat in my inbox? yum <33

🏷️ han jisung x fem!reader. cw ; cnc, free use, breeding, pet names: baby, babe, doll ( 692 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

jisung gets so desperate when he's needy, and he's just a tad too big for you to not feel the sting without any prep of his fingers; the thought alone makes you wet at the most inconvenient times. so you and jisung came to an agreement: you get to use each other, wherever, whenever. but that doesn't mean it isn't fun to push back a little. feed into his recklessness.

"not now, babe," you manoeuvrer between the spice rack and the stove with jisung clinging to your back. "i'm trying to make dinner here."

"but i need you, baby. i love you. you love me too, right? i need you so bad. please, it hurts," he pleads, bulge pressing thick and heavy against your ass. "just lemme grind against you for a second then, yeah? i'll be quick."

he lifts your skirt and grabs your hips, hungry, fingers making indents in the flesh. his leaking cock slides between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed clit with every rock of his hips.

"that's my girl, so good for me, fuck— i can feel you throbbing trough your panties, baby." he kisses your shoulder, his grip on your hips becoming more insistent. "let me put it in, please? i need to feel your pretty cunt around me. just the tip, okay?"

"sung, the food —"

"dinner can wait," he slides your panties down to your knees and you instinctively push your hips back. the gentle but demanding press of his hand between your shoulder blades lowers you over the kitchen counter. his cock prods at your hole, clumsily in his need, catching on the rim a few times.

the knot in your stomach tightens at the prospect of him entering you raw. it isn't the first time but you know how much the pretense of it riles him up.

"n-no sungie, wait, not without a condom..."

"it's just the tip, baby. i'll pull out, i promise. god, this tiny pussy," jisung groans when your walls give way slowly for the thick head of his cock. you whimper at the burn, caught between the counter and his hips with nowhere to go but take it.

"i know, doll, i know." he soothes you with a kiss to your nape. you gasp when he sinks in deeper, the sting bleeding into a dull throb when he hits that sweet spot nestled between your walls. "'m sorry, shit — this pussy's sucking me right in, baby, i can't help it. want me that bad, huh? you're such a liar."

"'m not," you shake your head, cunt clenching around him at the same time.

"i can feel how wet you are, baby, i know you need this too." his hips slam into yours and he wraps an arm around your chest to lift you up, his long curls tickling your ear. "let me cum inside, babe, it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."

his other hand's on your clit now, and you won't last long this way. you're too far gone to give him a proper answer so you shake your head again, stammering a chorus of pleas and moans as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"then why're you creaming on my cock, baby? this tight fucking pussy's begging to be bred," jisung groans, "knows who she belongs to. do you, baby? c'mon, tell me."

he forces his cock as deep as he can and you shudder, holding onto the counter top for dear life as he fucks you towards the peak of oversensitivity.

"y-you," you start to ramble, "it's all yours, sungie-ah, please..."

jisung leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and shoulder, mumbling filthy words of praise into your skin. "best pussy in the whole freakin' world, gonna fill you up so good, baby, until it's dripping down your legs..."

he cums with a final gasp of your name, then holds you close for a moment. "thank you. i love you," he whispers into your hair, and you squeal in surprise when he spins you around and drops to his knees in front of you.

jisung laughs and presses a kiss to your mound. "dessert first."

#answered #hanjibug #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #tw: cnc #;skz blurbs

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 15 days ago

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*pulls out chair and sits* okay but listen to me:

no doubt!jakeyn trying to kill a cockroach and then it starts flying.

IM CRYINGGGG i literally laughed out loud when i saw this in my inbox...and then again when i was imagining them while writing this..pls im pretty sure they would both faint at the same time . or jake would act all high & mighty bc he'll do anything for yn but....

this is just literal jakeyn crack for those of you who love their slices of life <3

──── NOT THAT BIG 🪳 💭 ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

"It's literally not that big."

"Okay, see—" Jake squints at you. "—you say that, but you're also the one currently crouched on the kitchen counter asking me to kill it for you."

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend like he personally betrayed you—until you catch your reflection in the microwave. Your hunched-up, shaking reflection.

Yeah, okay. He's not wrong.

But also—

You hate bugs. You despise bugs. Let alone cockroaches the size of a mini croissant.

Jake, on the other hand, tiptoes across the kitchen floor, armed with one of your precious sneakers in hand as a weapon.

His stance is wide.

His eyes narrowed.

He's trying to be brave for you.

He is failing.

"I don't even know where it went," he mutters, turning slowly with the shoe raised, ready for combat. "I swear it must have crawled into a vent and like, vanished or something."

Your grip tightens around yourself, "That's what it wants you to think, Jake. It's plotting. It's gonna lay eggs. Did you know German cockroaches lay up to fifty eggs?! Do you want FIFTY baby cockroaches in our apartment, Jake?!"

Jake freezes.

Gives you a look.

Lowers the shoe.

"Okay. You need to stop watching those weird nature documentaries before bed."

"AND YOU NEED TO KILL THE COCKROACH BEFORE IT LAYS FIFTY EGGS."

Jake flinches at your tone but nods determinedly, immediately locking in—because unfortunately, he's in love with you and would follow you off a cliff.

And then, right as he turns back around—

A massive, brown blur whizzes past the two of you from behind the fridge.

You scream.

Jake screams.

Limbs go flailing.

Eyes go wide.

The shoe clatters to the floor as the both of you immediately go sprinting out the kitchen and to the other room.

"IT'S FLYING—JAKE, IT'S FLYING—"

Jake dives onto the couch face-first.

You drop under your shared dining table, arms covering your head as if that protects you more.

"THEY FLY?! SINCE WHEN DO THEY FLY?!" Jake yells from the couch, his voice muffled, as he refuses to look up from the throw pillow his face is buried into.

"I TOLD YOU THIS. THIS IS WHY WE WATCH THOSE DOCUMENTARIES, JAKE."

The roach suddenly appears again, buzzing across the room.

You scream again.

Jake screams louder.

He hurls the pillow at it.

He misses. He hits the TV.

"I can't do it, Jake, I can't," you gasp as you curl into yourself under the table. "I think I'm going into shock."

"Babe. We need to get a grip," Jake pants, now from under the couch blanket he's rolled himself into. "We're adults. We can do this."

"Okay, then get the shoe."

"No."

"Jake."

A beat of silence.

Both your eyes lock together from across the war zone of your living room.

You nod.

Jake nods.

And then, in perfect, wordless understanding—

You both book it.

Jake throws off the blanket.

You roll out from under the table.

Both of you sprint down the hall, yelling at each other to GO, GO, GO, arms flailing at one another, grabbing the other while escaping the hostage situation.

And then—

Jake slams the bedroom door behind you two. Both of you collapse against the wood, breathless. Sweaty. And emotionally scarred.

"Baby?" Jake whispers.

"Yeah?"

He looks at you with wide, broken eyes, "You know I love you, right?"

You don't let him finish.

"Yeah," you say, already taking your phone out. "I'm calling Jungwon."

no doubt m. list

tag list! (open ! // bolded couldn't be added!)

@bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @veilstqr @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

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scorpioriesling · 5 months ago

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OML so good things come it groups of three has had me in a headlock and I don’t want to escape. I have trieddddddd so very hard to find scraps of smth like it and I found nothing😔. So here I am wondering if we the people can get another Liam/Ridoc/Bodhi (or another combination of fw guys if ur feeling silly) x Reader PLEASE 🙏. If you wanna make it a part two or a whole new thing idc Ill eat whatever you give me your writing is AMAZING.

-🎀Anon

Good Things Come in Groups of Three (Round 2)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x Ridoc x Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, smut

Summary: Studying in the library late at night has your mind wandering… you can blame it on the time of night, the lack of sleep, or simply being alone. Regardless of the excuse, you can’t seem to put those 3 boys out of your mind.

SR’s Note: Thank you for your patience, queen. (; I hope this part 2 measures up to your expectations!! Also, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I do have this group of 3 + reader involved once again!! It’s only a draft right now for Kinktober… so you definitely don’t want to miss out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Round 1

Your eyes roved over the text, trying to commit it to memory. Jesinia had done you a solid, pulling some of the best tomes for you to study before your test on Friday. Her expertise not only a scribe, but as your friend just might be what saved your grade.

If you could keep your mind from wandering, that is.

You'd caught yourself thinking, more than once, about the utterly insane predicament you'd found yourself in last week. It seemed that every time you turned a page in the textbook, images would race through your mind, each one as dirty as the last.

Liam fucking you in the shower.

Sitting atop Ridoc's face.

Bodhi's dick filling your throat.

...fuck.

You shake your head, the memory only sending more uncomfortable sensations to your core. This wasn't the time, nor the place -- nowhere, would ever be the time or place again. That was a one and done deal; one you'd be much too embarassed to repeat.

As your palms press into your eyes, you turn your attention to the wall clock, trying to make out the numbers it read.

11:57 pm.

Dammit, you hadn't wanted to be here this late. Perhaps all the reading and pouring over the material was good though, as you felt much more prepared for your upcoming exam. However, you'd failed to notice everyone emptying out of the library over the past few hours.

Your breath catches as you glance around, the dark silence of the hall sending a shiver down your spine. You were right, no one was here at this hour; it was simply you, and the stacks of books.

Book stacks you wouldn't mind being fucked against.

Okay, you really had to stop.

Glancing around once more, you slunk down into your chair a little lower, your fingers slowly leaving the table in favor of tracing along your leather pants. The pressure was getting unbearable, every moment of your past rendezvouz replaying in your mind as your panties grew wetter and wetter.

Ridoc's dick felt so good when he made you ride him.

You unzipped your leathers, your fingers slowly making their way underneath. A sigh escapes your lips as your fingertips brush your clothed clit, moving in small circles atop your panties.

Fuck... the sight of Liam jerking off to you too.

A soft whimper leaves your lips, your eyes widening into slits as you glance around one more time. You just had to make sure, certainly, that no one was in here.

Oh Gods... and Bodhi, spanking your ass-

"You do know this is a, public, space, don't you?"

Your eyes fly open, the figure standing just in the shadows of the nearby bookshelf causing your heart to race. Your hand flies from your pants as you shimmy in your chair, working to rezip.

"O-oh my Gods, uhm, oh my Gods-" you fumble, your vision blurred in embarassment as you stare down at your pants. Why wouldn't the damned zipper just fucking work, already?

Your breath hitches as a large, tanned hand moves atop yours. Your cheeks deepen in color, chest still rising and falling as the adrenaline courses through your veins.

"As your trainer," Bodhi says, his voice low. "I'd tell you to fix yourself, and send you to your dorm to finish this matter in private. Alone."

Your eyes slowly look up, meeting his darkened brown ones as he glares at you.

"But, as an interested party, I'm going to tell you to keep going."

You loose a shaky breath, his unforgiving stare a cross between anger and intrigue. You open your mouth to speak, but Bodhi's hand pushes your shoulder back against the back of the chair.

"Don't say a word, Y/N -- you got caught being a bad, bad girl." He tuts, leaning back to sit in the chair next to you. "Now, you answer to me."

You gulp, staying put as he stretches his legs out before him and gets comfortable, folding his muscled arms over his chest. He couldn’t possibly be serious!

"Keep going." He bites out, and you stare at him wide-eyed.

He scoffs. "What, now you can't hear, either? I said keep going." Your fingers fuddle with the waistband of your pants, shaking as you shove your leathers down to your knees.

"Mhm... play with that pussy, like the bad girl you fuckin' are."

Your fingers find your clit once more, the pleasure mounting in your core as Bodhi's eyes are glued to your every move. In an attempt to stifle your moan, your lip catches between your teeth, muffling the whimper. He's hovering over you in an instant, his hand braced against the back of your chair as his lips move mere inches from yours.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He taunts, and you glare up at him as a wave of defiance rushes through you.

"B-because... it's a.. library." You grit out, failing to think of any other comeback. He laughs, full and unabashedly as he shakes his head low, his eyes meeting yours once more.

"You didn't seem to care that this is a library when you started playing with your cunt, though." He draws in a breath, his gaze flickering between your underwear and your face. "Bad riders don't get rewarded, Y/N... they only get punished."

Your heart races as two more figures appear from the shadows, their hungry gazes trained on you and your minstrations. A small swallow in fear is all Bodhi needs before his hands grip at your waist, hauling you atop the table and sending the books scattering to the floor.

"B-Bodhi... what-"

"Ohh, don't act like this isn't what you wanted," Ridoc sneers from beside you. He leans casually against the bookshelf, the obvious tent in his pants indication that maybe he wanted this to happen too.

"Oh, she wanted it alright," Bodhi huffs, grabbing your pants and roughly yanking them down your legs. He shucks your boots off, tossing them over his shoulder before ripping your pants over your feet. "Caught her playing with herself all alone in here."

Liam tsks, flanking the other side of the table as he watches in faux-disappointment. Had they all arranged this? Had they known you'd be in here?

"I-I..."

"Keep your mouth shut," Bodhi demands, yanking his own pants down just enough for his enormous erection to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight; you'd forgotten how damn big he was.

"You're gonna work off this little violation, alright?" He chuckles, pulling you to the edge of the table so just your ass hung off the wood. His hand wraps around his cock, pumping it twice before sliding it against your soaking folds. You whimper, and he glares down at you.

"And... you'll be quiet if I say so, alright?" He chuckles, pressing the tip of his dick against your hole. "This is, after all, a library."

The sound threatening to erupt as he slides all the way in can only be described as nothing short of a deafening scream. He pushes himself all the way in, his pelvis flat against your thighs as you try and keep your noises at bay. Wasting no time, he yanks his cock out, only to slam back in with so much force that a small wail breaks free.

"Fuck... tight as fuck Y/N," he comments, speeding up as he fucks himself into you. "Squeezing my goddamned dick, baby."

You moan, the sound mixed with the creaking of the table beneath you. Bodhi's breaths come out in short pants above you, his gaze locked onto where his thick length is pounding into you.

"I... oh Gods," you cry out, your heaed turning to the side as you catch sight of Liam beside you. His tongue rakes across his bottom lip, his own cock hardening beneath his palm. The sight alone could make you cum, especially with the way Bodhi is pounding into you-

"Don't you dare cum," he growls, his hands bracing against your hips as he shoves you closer to him. Your gaze switches back to him as he leans over you, each stroke faster than the last as he barely pulls out anymore. "You're not cumming... not fucking yet."

You whimper as his mouth falls open above you, his eyes half-lidded as his thrusts grow sloppy. Your own impending orgasm has built up, threatening to burst any moment inside of you.

"B-Bodhi-"

"Fuck!' He shouts, your skin flush against his as his cock jumps, pumping his release inside of you. His breathing is heavy, his chest moving rapidly underneath the restraint of his zipped flight jacket. Your face twists in frustration, the heat in your lower tummy already receding as he yanks his cock out of you, a trail of clear semen following.

Sitting up on your hands, you only catch your breath for a minute before Liam saunters toward you, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His hands grip your knees, forcing your legs apart as you try and squeeze them together.

"You're not getting off that easy tonight -- I hope you've realized that."

You stare up at the gorgeous male; a dark, starved look crossing his features as he peers down at you. Your chest heaves as he slowly sits before you, only taking perch on the edge of the chair.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he leans forward, his lips mere inches from your glistening cunt -- and blows a stream of cool air across your skin. You clench around nothing, the sensation both extremely erotic and frustrating at the same time.

"Liam, please-"

"Ahh ahh," Bodhi tuts, leaning agaist a nearby table. "I said no mouthing off tonight, remember?"

Liam's dimple pops as he smiles, his handsome features only making you wish your cunt was pressed against his lips. You lie back down as he licks his lips once, his fingers softly trailing along the skin of your thighs. You whimper as he continues toying with you, barely able to keep your writhing at bay.

"Is this... what you want?" He says quietly, as his forefinger presses against your clit. You gasp, sitting up on your forearms to look down at his smug expression.

"Yes... oh Gods, please yes-" You grit out, as his digit slowly circles your clit. You squirm against the touch, wishing for more as he slides his finger around your sensitive bud.

"This isn't about you, though." He says, chuckling as he retracts his finger. He glances up at you before rising between your legs, his hands gripping your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. You gasp as your chest presses against the flat wood, and your stomach drops at the sight before you.

Ridoc stands on the other side of the table, his hand fisting his cock furiously as he gazes down at you.

"Open."

It's all you need to hear before widening your mouth, laying your tongue out flat just like he'd like it.

"Fuck... been waiting for this for damn near a week," he complains, slapping his length against your wet muscle. You squeak in pleasure as you feel Liam behind you, his fingers circling your pulsating opening.

"So wet, baby," he coos, as his ring and middle finger plunge into your aching pussy. He plunges them in, again and again-- the embarassing squelch of your vagina gripping his digits bringing a flush to your cheeks.

Ridoc's free hand caresses your chin, guiding his hard length to your awaiting mouth. You suck in a breath as he sinks his cock in, pushing it to the back of your throat as he groans. Gagging around him, he retracts, shoving back in moments later.

"Gods, Y/N -- you've been saving up for us, hm?" You hear the grin in Liam's voice, your cunt pulsating as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Unable to speak as Ridoc continues fucking your mouth, you only groan in response.

Liam curls his fingers, the tips rubbing against the sensitive spot inside -- you feel as though you'll explode. You huff out a breath, tears forming in your eyes as Ridoc continues assaulting your throat. The combined sensations are too much, your orgasm building with each minstration.

"It's a good thing you're so sexy," he laughs, patting you on the cheek with his free hand. "You've been on my mind all week, baby."

Liam retracts his fingers, and you cry out in frustration. Ridoc pulls out too, the emptiness on either end leaving you hot, bothered, and again, unreleased.

"Don't worry," Ridoc chuckles. "We still have more we want from you."

He appears on the opposite side of the table, standing where Liam just was, his open palm landing a harsh slap against the meat of your ass. You whine, only wishing he'd pleasure you more.

You don't have to beg much.

His hands clench around your hips, drawing you up onto your knees and forearms on the table. You wail again as he spanks you, clenching only when you feel his erection slapping against your cunt.

"You want me, huh?" He teases, landing another slap when you don't respond. "You want me to fuck you?"

You scream in pleasure, glancing behind you to watch as he slides his cock in.

"Yes, please Ridoc! Please fuck me-"

Your words are cut short as a hand wraps around your throat, yanking your head to look before you. Liam chuckles, his hands quickly finding your breast as he stands beside Bodhi -- who's guiding his cock to your lips.

"I told you," he grumbles. "Bad girls... have to be quiet."

He shoves his length in, choking you as he pushes down your throat. Liam pulls your hair, keeping your mouth in place as Bodhi fucks his dick down your raw throat. Ridoc pants from behind you, his girth reaching unimaginable depths inside your quaking pussy.

"You like that, huh?" Bodhi shakes his head, plunging his cock deeper in your mouth. "Like taking my cock while Ridoc fucks you?"

Another wave of pleasure racks your bones, the feeling of their dicks in two of your holes almost more than you can take. You gurgle around Bodhi's length as Ridoc's balls slap against your clit, heightening your senses even more.

"Can't... can't take much more," you garble out, and Liam's fingers pinch your nipple.

"You'll take, what we give you."

You squeak, tears threatening to spill over as you try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay. Your walls clench around Ridoc's big cock, each thrust pushing you closer, and closer...

He cums with a gasp, hot ropes of his release splattering across your ass. He heaves as he squeezes your right buttcheek, his spent cock resting against the other. Bodhi grits his teeth before releasing as well, his seed spraying down your throat. He yanks his cock out, and Liam moves to hold your jaw as you muster a cough.

"Swallow it all," he commands, and you do as your told. Bodhi retreats, resting lazily in a chair as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

If only you could feel the same.

You gulp down his salty-sweet taste, your muscles growing tired after your night of pleasure. Well... as much pleasure as you were allowed, orgasm-denial and all.

Liam pulls you off the table, holding you upright as he slowly backs you into one of the shadowed bookshelves. You groan again as he kneels before you, Bodhi and Ridoc flanking your either side.

"We've had our fun with you... do you think you deserve to cum?"

You nod your head at his sultry words, and he doesn't even look away from your glistening pussy as he speaks to the other two.

"Do you think she deserves to cum?"

Bodhi tuts while reaching for your chest, openly palming your left breast.

“I suppose she’s been quite good for us tonight.”

Liam nods in agreement, his lips pressing a single kiss against your folds. Your hips involuntarily buck in protest, a short moan coming out as Ridoc rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Shhhh.. patience, baby.”

His voice alone could get you off, such contrast to his usually irritating tone.

Liam’s tongue flicks out, swiping across your cunt as he rolls his thumb over your clit. You squirm, your breaths coming out in quick bursts.

“L-Liam I… won’t last long-“

He chuckles, the vibration edging you further. Ridoc replaces his fingers with his mouth, leaning in to suck and mark your right breast with his teeth. You lean your head back against the shelves, the feeling of ecstasy finally within reach.

“You wanna cum, Y/N?” Bodhi’s breath skates across your skin, goosebumps arising just below your ear as he squeezes your breast partially hard.

“Such a little tease with these gorgeous things,” he continues, and you begin shaking, the feeling of the orgasm within reach.

“Oh FUCK, I’m-“

Ridoc’s hand claps over your mouth as Bodhi holds you upright. You tremble and shake atop Liam’s tongue, the pent up energy from all night finally reaching its sweet release. Liam’s hands reach around and squeeze your ass, holding you in place as you cum on his lips.

“Anybody in here?”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat quickening as you hear the male guard’s voice ring out through the otherwise empty library. Your eyes meet Bodhi’s, and he holds a single finger to his lips. Shh.

“Hello?”

The voice calls again, and the three of you stand in silence against the darkness from the shelves. After a few minutes, the entry door opens and closes once more, and you finally release a breath.

“Well… that was close,” you laugh, the first real sentence you’d uttered in hours. Surely the sunlight would be peeking through the windows anytime now…

You step toward your discarded clothes, making to grab them and put them on when a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly against a very bare, very toned chest.

“Oh come on — you didn’t think we were actually finished here, did you?”

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