#smut with feelings

[rose-gold-chains]

Pairing: IIIxIV

Word count: 5443

[WARNINGS: unprotected sex, light bdsm practices, degradation, orgasm control/denial, edging, overstimulation]

18+ content - minors, do not interact.

As usual, feedback is welcome and very much appreciated. Be kind, though!

Iii is in a foul mood and IV loves it.

He doesn’t know what happened to bring on such a sudden shift, but he knows what it means for him: mean, demanding, controlling III. And he’s not one to complain.

All he knows it’s the pattern is always the same, and sooner or later, III will drag him into a secluded room and tear him to pieces slowly, painstakingly. All he can do is wait.

It’s almost methodical, the way he does it. He takes all his anger, and frustration, and anxiety and channels them into being the most dominant he can be.

It takes two hours, twenty three minutes and about eight seconds.

But who’s counting?

“You,” there’s a long, bony finger pointed at him, “go to my room.”

His blue eyes are dark and serious as they stare back at IV, unmoving, stern, and his voice is deep, accent thick with simmering anger, “I expect to see you undressed and kneeling when I come back. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good.”

•

All IV can hear as he slowly undresses himself is the ticking of the wall clock hanging right above the bed, and the white background noise of the cars driving some floors below seeping through the half-opened window.

It’s kind of soothing, in a twisted way.

The anticipation is killing him as he sinks to his knees on the soft mattress, naked skin brushing the fancy silk sheets III insisted on buying in all the colours of the rainbow, hairs all over his body standing straight with excitement.

His cock is already half hard, blood rushing south at lightning speed as he imagines everything III will put him through - but when the door opens and shuts, all the coherent thoughts fly out of the fucking window: III looks like an absolute vision. He’s wearing all black - form fitting t-shirt and loose track pants hanging low on his skinny hips, and he’s towering over the bed like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

“I haven’t even stepped into the room and you’ve already made three mistakes. Can you tell me what they are?”

IV must look like a complete idiot, because as much as he racks his brain for answers, he still comes up blank, and all he can do is look lost and shake his head.

“Think fast, bitch, because ‘I don’t know’ is not an option, and every wrong answer will grant you ten spanks.”

“I— didn’t fold my clothes properly?”

“Mh. You did four things wrong, then.”

Fuck.

“I,” he breathes, thinks, rinse and repeat. Nothing.

“What? Are you too dumb to form words or are you just trying to piss me off?”

“I— genuinely can’t think of anything, Sir,” his voice sounds alien to his own ears, small and vulnerable, “I’m sorry.”

“Fine, I’ll give you the answer. But that means you’ll get the paddle instead of my hand. And you’re getting spanked however many times I see fit, considering you’re too much of a dumb slut to know what’s best.”

From the outside looking in, a person who’s not familiar with their dynamics will think that III is some sort of evil monster taking advantage of poor little sunshine IV.

Fact of the matter is, though, IV is enjoying every single second, revelling in the attention and the dominance; he loves being told what to do, how to act. Adores being punished - or rewarded.

He can get out of his own head and just feel: every hit of the paddle, every smack of a hand on his skin or pull of his hair takes him one step closer to the special place in the back of his head that has him floating on pure pleasure and adrenaline, and he can’t fucking wait to get there.

“Number one: I told you to kneel, I didn’t tell you to kneel on the bed. Number two: I didn’t tell you you could get hard,” he gestures at IV’s dick with disdain, eyes rolling slightly, “number three: i didn’t give you permission to look at me when I came into the room. Now get down from there, I want you face down, ass up on the carpet.”

As much as he enjoys pain, IV is not a big fan of carpet burn.

He can either disobey and face III’s wrath -fun, painful, ultimately rewarding - or obey  - and still be punished, of course, since he did make three, no, four mistakes - but avoid provoking III further, since he’s already in a pissy mood. Choices, choices. 

As much as he loves instigating III, a big part of IV lives for the moment when his volatile partner praises him for being good. And he’ll get his punishment in any case - the way his cock twitches and hardens even more guarantees it - so. Rug burn it is. 

He can feel him walking around the room, can feel the eyes on his naked skin, burning patterns into it with his mind.

The click of the closet door opening sends a shiver down IV’s spine, a tingle of anticipation bubbling in every nerve ending on his body- he knows the paddle is in there, together with a plethora of other devices made especially for him.

He doesn’t hear rummaging, though- the door clicks shut in record time: which means the paddle was ready all along, that he was gonna get paddled either way, no matter how pristine his obedience was. It means III had a plan all along.

“Can you count, or do I have to do that, too?”

IV shifts in his spot a bit, feels the carpet dig into his shins and his knees, “I can count, Sir.”

“Good,” smack, “go on then, I don’t have all day!”

“One, Sir. Thank you.”

They land everywhere: from the round part of his bum to the lowest part of his thighs, the hits rain on him like blessed water mixed with the flames of hell.

His eyes water more and more with each one, and his body doesn’t know if it wants to move away from the pain or towards it, stuck in a loop of pleasure and pain that’s washing over his senses like tidal waves.

His dick twitches at every strike, hangs heavy and swollen in between his legs, leaking, begging for a shred of attention, yearning for some sweet, sweet crumb of friction.

“T— twenty five.”

The sound of the paddle clanking on the floor tells him it’s over, but he wouldn’t dare moving until told.

“You’re not as dumb as you look, then. Get on your knees.”

His arms are shaking as he attempts to raise himself from the ground, and he almost eats a handful of carpet when his right hand slips and loses grip, but he manages.

“Face this way, slut, I have no use for you looking the other way.”

Shimmying his way around is no easy feat, especially since his knees are scraped pretty badly from rubbing against the carpet during his paddling, and every movement sends a jolt of pain through his nerves. He’s pretty sure one of them is bleeding, a tiny dot of crimson leaving its mark on the pristine white fibres.

III takes a long, calculated glance at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. He looks like a giant standing there while IV is kneeling: his impossibly tall and slender body adorned in all black is an imposing presence, ominous almost, towering over IV’s figure with ease. The light hairs of his happy trail glisten with a veil of sweat and it’s mouth watering, hypnotic.

God, IV is so obsessed with this beautiful man.

“Hands behind your back.”

He removes his hands from where they’re hiding his very obvious erection and puts them where instructed, “yes, Sir.”

“Still hard, I see,” his voice is tinged with something IV can’t quite put his finger on: his wishful thinking says it sounds like awe, his rational mind quips that it’s most likely annoyance, “you’re so desperate that not even twenty five strikes will get your dick to go down? Fucking pathetic.”

He blushes a deep shade of red as his dick throbs at the humiliation.

“If you’re so hungry for it,” III spits, as he lowers his pants just enough to get his half hard dick out, “then have at it. And make it worth my time.”

He scoots his way over to him, barely resisting the urge to flinch every time his scraped knees glide on the carpet, and puts his whole nose into the sparse hairs at the base of III’s cock, taking in the smell of detergent and arousal, letting it invade his senses and put his mind at peace.

“Less sniffing, more sucking,” he pushes his hips forward once to drive the point home, “you’re a bitch, but you’re not a fucking dog.”

The weight of III’s cock on his tongue is familiar, yet every time feels like the first: his reactions to getting head are dependent on his mood, on IV’s behaviour, on a myriad of other variables that make the experience surprising in its familiarity.

IV puts his soul into it, sucks cock like he’s paid to do so.

Apparently though, today his passion, enthusiasm and effort are not enough: the moments he puts his right hand at the base of III’s length -just so he can give attention to what doesn’t fit in his mouth- is the moment III steps back completely.

“I told you hands behind your back. I can’t fathom how is it so hard to fucking listen?”

He walks to the closet again, and this time the noise of objects rattling against each other is almost jarring in the deep silence of the room.

He comes back moments later with a pair of— pink plush handcuffs?

“I— Sir?”

“What now?”

“Are those—?”

He would usually go with rope, if he’s feeling frisky. Or tape.

Zip ties occasionally, and if he’s in a sweet mood, probably silk.

But pink plushy handcuffs are a first - and IV can’t for the life of him figure out where the fuck they came from. Or better yet, he knows where they came from: his fucking browser history.

He’s always had delicate skin, and he doesn’t mind the marks on his body - truly doesn’t. But his wrists always hurt for days after, insistent red welts blossoming on his wrists every time he ends up bound or tied, and sometimes he finds himself browsing for something sturdy yet soft, something that will keep him in line without the added strain on his already damaged skin.

He just never thought—

“I— don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you will do, I believe.”

His voice is still stern, but there’s a hint of affection in his tone that he can’t mask or hide.

“Thank you, Sir,” look at him, tearing up at the sight plushy handcuffs like a degenerate fucking idiot, “thank you so, so much.”

When they click in place on his wrists, the soft material is a stark contrast to what he’s used to: they’re firm, the sharp tug he gives them confirms it, but they don’t hurt, they won’t leave angry marks.

No matter how mean III acts, how punitive and cruel his actions look from the outside looking in, IV knows he’s cherished.

III taps his jaw once with his index finger, and the warmth of his skin against his shakes IV out of his thoughts, “open wide.”

It’s all the warning he gets before III’s cock is shoved so far down his throat he almost chokes on it.

Every sharp snap of III’s hips threatens his precarious balance, and all he can do is focus on breathing through his nose and engaging his core muscles so he doesn’t topple over on his ass and make a fool of himself.

Just when it was getting good - IV had found a rhythm with his tongue that allowed him to give iii pleasure without choking, and III had started making these gorgeous, choked half-moans every time the tip of his cock hit the tender back of IV’s throat - III stops.

And IV can’t help but make a slight noise of complaint.

“Shut the fuck up, Jesus,” his voice is fucked like he’d been the one taking a dick down his throat instead of giving it, “get on the bed.”

Getting up is no easy feat, especially with his hands locked behind him and throwing off his balance, but the promise of something more gives him the strength to obey as quickly as his body would allow.

“Ass up, I’m tired of looking at your pathetic face.”

•

“I’ve opened myself up already, Sir.”

“Playing with your sorry hole like a slut doesn’t mean you’re ready for me.”

As much as IV would love nothing more than being fucked into oblivion sooner rather than later, he knows proper prep is a non negotiable for III: no matter how mean he’s being, he’ll always make sure there’s plenty of lube and plenty of time spent on it.

It doesn’t matter if they fucked the day before and IV feels still loose enough; or if he tells him he’s prepped himself beforehand, III will always, always double check.

Rationally, he knows it’s a good thing.

But the desperate, horny, greedy, impatient part of his brain still sometimes registers it as a nuisance - but he still sags against the sheets, props his ass up high, and waits.

“God,” III whispers as the first finger breaches IV’s hole, “you were made to be fucked, weren’t you?”

IV is glad he’s not facing him, because he’s pretty sure III would start giving him shit for how much he’s blushing at the makeshift compliment, warmth spreading from his face all the way down his chest like wildfire, unforgiving and unstoppable.

“Look at this,” he speaks like he’s talking mostly to himself, voice quiet, no longer as commanding as it was before, “your hole is so hungry for it, for me,” he pushes a second finger in, the slide made easy by copious amounts of lube and the fact that - as much as III doesn’t want to believe it - IV had actually already opened himself up as he said, “isn’t it?”

“Only for you, Sir.”

Two fingers soon become three, pumping in and out of him at a leisurely pace like they have all the time in the universe, and IV wishes III didn’t know his body as well as he does because he’s purposefully avoiding that sweet, sweet spot inside him that makes him see stars: this is methodical, a means to an end, and the end goal is apparently not IV’s pleasure.

He's still impossibly hard though, knees spread wide and cock hanging heavy between his thighs - he’s pretty sure he’s been consistently leaking since the fucking handcuffs clocked shut on his wrists, mind getting fuzzy at the edges, body feeling light like a feather and heavy like a block of lead at the same time.

The moment III’s fingers slide out of him leaves him and get replaced by his cock leaves him gasping for air like a fish out of water, mouth agape and desert dry, “o-oh fuck.”

The rhythm is ruthless from the get-go, every thrust as punishing and fast as the previous one, and each aimed at that perfect angle that makes him feel as if his sanity is about to slip away from his grasp any moment.

IV feels like he’s hanging on by a thread as moans and groans are ripped out of him every time III’s cock slams back inside.

The noises III is making are not helping his predicament: he grunts with every thrust, moans every single time he pulls far enough away that the head of his cock catches on IV’s rim just to slide back inside with ease, then grinds against him like a feral beast in heat, pushing as deep as he can go and brushing all the right places - it’s maddening for both of them, animalistic and primal and so, so fucking dirty.

IV is aware he’s sweaty all over, skin so damp he feels like he’s gonna slide off the stupid silk sheets any minute now but he can’t stop writhing, twitching, moaning - hell, he’d probably pull his fucking hair out if his hands weren’t bound behind him.

He would be grossed out by himself if he weren’t so fucking close, tethering dangerously over the edge of the precipice and so fucking ready to fall over and let the void take over his senses.

His mind is foggy at best and incoherent at worst, and all he can think is pain pain pain pleasure pleasure pleasure, with the way his ass and thighs burn so good every time III’s hips slap against his abused skin, new redness forming over top of the purple spots that were already there, and his burnt knees catching in the folds of the fabric with every forceful thrust.

He’s only vaguely aware of III saying things to him as he fucks him from behind, random words making their way into his muddled mess of a brain, things like “brat” and “slut” and “baby” spoken directly against his ear as III keeps a firm hold on his hair, bending his back in positions that any sane person with functioning eyes would probably deem impossible to achieve.

“I’m gonna come,” he’s not aware he’s spoken until it has happened, and he’s only sure it was him because he’s gone, but not gone enough that he can’t recognise his own voice, thank you very much.

III has him trained so well that he wouldn’t dare come without permission in any circumstance, no matter how taxing.

“No, you’re not.”

He realises he’s crying only because his tears feel salty in his mouth.

That’s all it takes to pull him under.

He can vaguely register himself talking.

It feels as if someone else outside of his body is stealing his voice, speaking for him like a ventriloquist’s puppet, and it’s nothing but a mantra of “please, please, please,” and “need to come, want to come, let me come”.

It’s embarrassing, it’s desperate, it’s his brain losing all filter as reality quickly slips from his grasp.

The moment III’s buries himself balls deep inside him feels like coming home, like IV is floating on a cloud of sugar dust and rainbows and morning dew: the warmth spreads through him as his insides are painted white, and suddenly the urge of coming is overcome by the overwhelming pride of being good.

He managed not to break the rules, he made his Sir come like he’s supposed to, he’s done what his body was carved out for, all those years ago: pleasuring III and nothing else.

•

“Baby,” his eyes feel sticky and gross as he tries to pry them open, “hey? You with me?”

I’m good, he wants to say, but his throat is tight and rough - he nods as best as he can, head feeling too heavy on his weak neck, and attempts a smile that doesn’t come as easily as he would like it to.

There’s delicate fingers carding through his hair and a big hand holding on to his cheek, stroking gently in comforting patterns, lulling him into a sense of safety and home, “you were so good for me, angel. So, so good.”

“Sir,” is what he manages to say as he attempts to find his voice, pain shooting through his throat at every noise, “t-thank you.”

A tall glass of water gets pushed to his lips and he drinks and drinks and drinks until it’s all gone, drops falling from the corners of his mouth and onto his chest, sending shivers down his spine as his overstimulated body registers yet another sensation.

He’s sitting up, he realises.

There are no cuffs on his wrists.

And III is looking at him like he hung the fucking moon- so. That’s something.

The next thing he notices as his body starts making peace with his brain, is that his ass hurts like a motherfucker: he’s probably all bruised up, pinks and purples and reds creating sunsets on the fair skin of his butt and thighs. His hole is also leaking from the remains of III’s load, making a wet, uncomfortable patch under his abused ass.

The third thing he notices is that, despite being sore and battered, despite having blacked out for god knows how long, he’s still rock hard.

“Ngh,” he’s still not capable of forming coherent words, apparently, but III’s attention is on him in a split second despite his muffled noises.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“…please.”

The smirk that spreads on III’s face is devious, “I don’t understand what you’re begging for, baby. You’re gonna have to be more clear.”

If IV had the strength, or the mental capacity to lift himself up, he would slap the shit out of that smug face.

As of now, though, he can barely keep his head upright.

“Sir, please, I need—”

He stops himself, hyperaware that he needs to play his cards just right if he wants even the slightest chance of going to sleep without blue balls.

“Go on, don’t be so bashful,” he chuckles to himself and it sounds almost devilish, “if you want it so bad, then you should be able to ask for it.”

“Can I come? I’m still hard. Please, sir. It hurts.”

“I thought you liked pain, no? Thought you enjoyed being my little pain whore.”

If III is not budging, then its time for the heavy artillery. It’s only fair.

“Please, daddy.”

*

IV isn’t sorry about the “daddy” thing. It was a cheap shot and he knew using the D word after III had already come would have been dangerous, but as much as he loves pain and edging, death by blue balls isn’t on his “favourite ways to die” list.

That said, what III is doing now feels more like retaliation than release. One hand on his throat, firm orders not to touch himself, and two long thick fingers curled in his ass, and a few minutes that felt an eternity later iv feels like crying.

He must have been, because III tuts, patronizing and merciless. “Poor baby” he says, and if IV wasn’t crying before, the mocking tone he’s using would for sure bring on the waterworks, “so, so sad.”

He isn’t sad, he’s so horny even his dick is crying, as III can very well see, but the guy is really being a bastard this evening. Not that IV could verbalize that.

He moans brokenly and tries to rock his hips against III’s hand, and all he gets is a swift slap for his trouble. And the pressure on his prostate never lets up, multitasking king that III was.

Cheek smarting, IV squeezes his eyes. “Be good” he hears over the sound of his shallow breaths, as III wraps his hand on his throat once again. He’s not actually choking him, it’s more a warning, orders to behave, so of course he skirts the line and bears down even more on iii’s fingers in his ass.

IV hears the smirk in his voice and god, he has no intention of opening his eyes and looking at III’s face. Not now, not while he’s nearly sobbing, body on fire, dick weeping on his belly. The sight of III’s malicious expression could do him in. So he just begs, like a prayer in the darkness behind his closed eyelids. “Sir, please, daddy, I just need to...”

“I’m giving you what you want, and you’re still whining. Maybe I should just leave you manacled to the bed and let you sleep it off.”

“Nononono. Please please please...”

The squelching sound is disgusting and hot, a mixture of sweat and lube and cum making IIi’s fingers slide in and out of him without resistance.

The fact that he can read IV’s body like a children’s book is clear from the fact that every single time he’s about to come, the pressure on his prostate relents just enough to bring him away from the precipice, only to start all over again.

And again.

And again.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” the word falls from his lips like a prayer, like a broken record - that’s all his brain can process, all that’s left in his muddled thoughts.

It’s “I’m begging” and “thank you” and “I love you” all wrapped up in a neat bow of desperation, body and mind overwhelmed by the sensations as he fights to stay present, fights to stay anchored to reality as his last slivers of sanity threaten to leave him once more.

It’s an eternity - and a million lost orgasms - later when the words he’d been begging to hear finally leave III’s mouth, “go on then, come for me.”

They sound like an hallucination, a figment of his imagination, far away and muffled, but still his body obeys on the spot, back arching as he spills all over himself like a trained puppet.

III milks him through it, doesn’t stop even when IV’s body feels like he has nothing left to give.

He feels as if a fire has been ignited from the inside out, burning bright hot as pleasure washes through him and mixes with pain and renders him unable to do anything but lie there and take it.

“Again.”

He’s begging for the opposite reasons now: he’s over sensitive and sore and he needs it to stop, needs this to be finally over.

“Please I can’t— I— Sir!”

“You begged like a bitch to be able to come, now what?” the hand on his throat squeezes just enough to drive the point home, “Can’t take what you asked for?”

He’s sagging in the sheets and they’re all bunched up now, wet and sticky and gross - it looks like a scene from the most low budget porn movie, the way the silk glistens with with lube and fluids in the low light of the bedside lamp.

Despite his prayers to stop though, IV’s cock never went down, and he can feel the tell-tale signs of another orgasm approaching, heat spreading through his gut and his groin as his body, taut like a guitar string, snaps once again.

He sobs through it, tears spilling freely from his eyes as his dick twitches and throbs with his second orgasm of the night, wetness pooling on his belly on top of the mess that was already there.

When two orgasms become three, though, there’s not much left to it: it’s almost dry, nothing but a few drops sliding pathetically down his spent, reddened cock.

“One more.”

He can’t do it. He can’t.

He wants to be good, wants to obey, but he doesn’t have it in him, he’s too spent to even think about coming again. His balls hurt, his cock is sore, his hole is now so swollen and achy that he will most definitely have trouble walking without a limp tomorrow.

“Please sir I can’t- I— daddy. I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No, no, please. No more!”

“Then use your safe word and this stops immediately. Until then, you’ll give me one more.”

Avocado.

It’s on the tip of his tongue.

He could say it and the abuse on his poor hole would be over, he would receive his much needed aftercare and probably a bubble bath with the strawberry body wash he loves so much, the one that’s so bubbly that almost feel like it’s gonna spill out from the tub and smother the bathroom in a foamy inferno of bubbles and doom.

But III says he can, and he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think it, would he?

“I— really don’t think I can.”

“Safeword,” he curls his fingers again with force, pushing against IV’s prostate like he’s trying to punish him for complaining, “or shut the fuck up.”

He debates in his mind the best course of action, but he keeps getting lost, losing his train of thought, losing his fucking mind.

“Avocado.”

And just like that, the fingers that were inside him slide oh so carefully out, and the hand on his neck is removed in favour of caressing his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t be mad,” he’s crying again, he probably never stopped, and his voice is small and frantic, “I really couldn’t do another one, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, hey,” it’s impossible to think that this is the same person that mere minutes ago was calling him a slut, voice sugary sweet as he addresses IV, “never apologise for having to use your safeword. Never apologise for setting boundaries, do you hear me?”

“But— I let you down. You thought I could do it a-and I couldn’t.”

The words are barely comprehensible, with all the sobs shaking his whole body.

“You didn’t let me down one bit,” his eyes are deep and sincere and so fucking blue, “I love that you give yourself to me so freely, that you trust me so deeply. You did so well.”

••

He’s laying in the bathtub, warm water and bubbles all around him and III perched on the edge behind him, carefully massaging coconut and vanilla shampoo in his hair, when the realisation hits: he is in love with this beautiful, beautiful man.

He also realises that the thought made its way into his mind once already during the night, as he was being tortured with orgasm upon orgasm: in the mess that was his brain, fuzzy and overstimulated and lost, the thing that kept him anchored to his sanity was that he’s in love, and he’s pretty sure it’s mutual. So.

Something to think about.

“You’re awfully quiet there, love,” III’s voice is like a soothing balm on his soul, a salve to ease all troubles and pains, “something on your mind?”

“Jus’ tired, that’s all.”

IV is an awful liar, the way his voice tilts upward at the end of his sentence gives away the fact that he’s not being completely honest, but if III noticed, he doesn’t push further.

“Alright,” there’s a last splash of water to the back of his head, probably to make sure all of the shampoo suds have been rinsed away, “shall we get some lotion on that cute butt? Then we can get some food in your precious belly. How’s that sound?”

“I’m in love with you.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can process that he’s speaking, and the way he shuts his mouth is testament enough to the fact that he did not mean to say it out loud, not while he’s wet and naked and still partly out of it.

Fuck.

And III isn’t replying.

Why isn’t he replying?!

“I—I’m sorry. It just— came out. I didn’t mean to make it weird or-”

He stands up as fast as he can as the last of the water runs down the drain, frantically trying to turn around without smashing his face on the wet, slippery tile of the bathroom.

He needs to look III in the face, needs to understand why he’s not saying anything.

III is still there, perched on the edge of the fucking bathtub, trousers wet from bathing IV with all the care in the world and IV finds himself thinking he looks absolutely glorious even while he’s rejecting him.

He’s down bad.

“Say something?” the fact that he’s on the verge of tears is evident in his shaky voice, the knot in his throat making it hard to speak properly, “III?”

And III is… smiling?

That’s good, right? It has to be good. IV needs for it to be good.

Or maybe he’s laughing at how pathetic he is, falling in love with his best friend who he sometimes hooks up with, after being fucked within an inch of his life.

“You fucking idiot,” that’s not a good start, not when IV’s mind is spiralling in every direction and thinking of every possible worst case scenario his mind can conjure up, “took you a while there to catch up.”

“I— you- what?”

“I’ve kinda, sorta been in love with you since the first time you drunkenly kissed me and then gave me a handjob and covered my dick in black paint.”

“That was last year.”

“Well,” he shrugs like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t just made IV the happiest man on the face of the planet, “yeah.”

III wraps a big, fluffy towel on his shoulders - he didn’t realise he was shaking, droplets of water drying in his body at the contact with the cold air.

“So, about that lotion? I don’t want your butt to be sore tomorrow.”

And if IV grabs him by the front of his sopping shirt and kisses the daylights out of him, nobody but them has to know.

[cloudyluun]

Soft Spot

Summary: Harry Styles is the world’s most effortlessly cocky bastard in public. But behind closed doors? He’s soft for one person, her. Their love is private, sacred, the only thing that’s ever truly been his. But the internet is relentless, the rumors won’t stop, and she starts to wonder if she’ll ever fit into his world. Just when she’s about to pull away, Harry makes sure she never doubts it again. AKA: Soft (but also possessive) boyfriend Harry? Check. Jealous, protective, doesn’t-take-shit Harry? Also check. A public declaration, viral paparazzi moments, and one very necessary smut scene? You already know.

A/N: This fic is based on two requests (this one and this one from @dipmeinhoneyh) that fit so perfectly together I had no choice but to make it a full story. I hope you love it, I hope it makes you feral, and I hope you leave this feeling at least 10% more in love with Harry Styles than you already were. Also, if you ever see a man carrying all your bags through an airport while wearing your shirt?? Marry him immediately.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 

Smut (obviously)—possessive, praise-heavy, SOFT but also FILTHY

Harry being the most protective, doting, airport-sherpa boyfriend alive

Jealousy and minor confrontation (because someone was dumb enough to question her worth)

Public scrutiny and social media toxicity (but don’t worry, he shuts that shit down)

Excessive amounts of boyfriend fluff (back rubs, forehead kisses, and “mine” moments galore)

Did I mention the smut? Because THE SMUT.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Harry Styles was a menace.

Everyone knew it—especially the media. He wasn’t just the biggest name in music, he was also a nightmare to interview. He had little patience for industry bullshit, answered questions with nothing but a smirk or a sip of his drink, and rarely—if ever—gave the press what they wanted.

At this point, journalists had learned to come prepared when sitting across from him. They needed strategy, a solid game plan, and maybe even a shot of whiskey beforehand. Because Harry? Harry made it difficult.

And God, did he enjoy it.

The first clip that went viral was from a BBC interview.

The journalist was older, seasoned. She’d been in the game for decades and knew how to handle difficult personalities. Or at least, she thought she did.

The interview had been going fine—as fine as an interview with Harry Styles could be. He’d leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, looking like he owned the place. Dressed in a half-unbuttoned silk shirt and tailored trousers, he was a picture of effortless arrogance.

Then she asked, “Do you think you’re difficult?”

Harry blinked. Didn’t move for a second. Then—slowly, deliberately—he picked up his drink, took a long sip, and held eye contact the entire time.

The silence stretched.

And stretched.

The journalist swallowed.

Finally, Harry licked his lips, tilted his head, and asked, “D’you think I care?”

The second clip was worse.

A different interview, a different day, same energy.

Harry was sitting in front of a panel of radio hosts, arms crossed, tattoos peeking out from under the loose sleeves of his sweater. The conversation had been moving along at a leisurely pace, touching on his tour, his latest album, the usual surface-level stuff.

Then one of the hosts leaned forward, smug, thinking he had the upper hand.

“So, tell us, Harry. What’s the song ‘Soft Spot’ about?”

Harry, who had been absentmindedly fiddling with one of his rings, paused. He exhaled through his nose, the barest hint of amusement curling at the corners of his mouth.

Then—without hesitation—he shrugged. “Dunno. Just a song.”

The hosts groaned in frustration.

The internet? Ate it up.

Edits of him smirking, of him dodging questions with effortless ease, flooded Twitter and TikTok. People captioned them with things like “This man is impossible” and “Certified menace behavior”.

The general consensus?

Harry Styles didn’t answer questions unless he wanted to.

Until someone asked about her.

It happened during a late-night talk show appearance.

The studio was dimly lit, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Harry was perched on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, fingers playing absentmindedly with the chain around his neck. He was half-paying attention, answering questions with his usual brand of casual indifference.

Then the host, a sharp-eyed comedian known for catching celebrities off guard, grinned. “Alright, Harry. I have a question I think the people really want to know.”

Harry didn’t react much. Just arched a slow, lazy brow. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been seen with the same girl a lot lately…”

For the first time all night, something shifted.

Subtly. Almost imperceptibly.

But it was there, the way his fingers paused against the metal of his chain, the way his shoulders tensed, just slightly, the way his mouth twitched, like he was already biting back a smirk.

The audience leaned forward.

The internet, watching from their screens, held their breath.

Harry tilted his head, slowly. His lips parted, there it was. That signature smirk, the one that sent fans into a frenzy.

“Yeah?”

The host grinned, seeing the shift. “Care to comment?”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—Harry grinned. Not his usual mocking, I’m-so-over-this smirk. A real grin. The kind that made his dimples crease, the kind that softened his otherwise sharp edges.

His fingers tapped once, twice against his thigh.

Then, he looked directly into the camera, his voice dropping just a fraction.

“She’s great.”

The studio lost it.

The audience roared—cheers, gasps, the works. Twitter exploded before the show even finished airing. Within minutes, #ShesGreat was trending worldwide.

Fans analyzed the clip from every angle:

The way his face softened.

The way his body language changed.

The fact that he—HARRY STYLES, NOTORIOUS MENACE—HAD ACTUALLY ANSWERED.

He didn’t say her name. Didn’t confirm anything outright. But the shift in him? The softness in his voice?

That was all people needed.

It was real.

And the world wasn’t ready.

Y/N wasn’t famous.

She wasn’t an actress, a model, a singer, or an influencer. There was no glamorous past, no viral moment that put her on the map. No high-profile connections, no childhood dream of Hollywood stardom.

She was just a girl with a normal life—one that, up until a year ago, had been blissfully simple.

Her days had always followed a rhythm.

Morning coffee at her favorite little café, tucked into a corner booth with a book. Work, which she genuinely enjoyed—something steady, something real, something that felt like hers. Drinks with friends on Fridays, lazy Sundays spent in oversized sweaters, grocery shopping in peace without having to worry about cameras or strangers whispering her name.

She had a routine. A quiet, predictable world.

Then Harry Styles had walked into it.

And ruined everything.

She still didn’t know how it had happened.

It was easy to pinpoint the beginning—the first time their paths had crossed, the first time she’d realized that Harry fucking Styles wasn’t just a name on a magazine cover, but a person with thoughts and moods and an irritatingly sharp wit.

But she never expected it to go anywhere.

At first, he was just a guy who flirted too much.

Then he was a guy who made her laugh.

Then he was the guy she couldn’t stop thinking about.

And somehow—without her even noticing—he became hers.

It had been over a year now. Twelve whole months of him.

Twelve months of stolen moments, whispered conversations in the dark, secret rendezvous that always ended with his lips on her skin and his voice murmuring, “Just us, love. That’s all that matters.”

Twelve months of hiding.

Because Harry? Harry was obsessed with keeping her safe.

"It’s our life, not theirs," he told her once. "You don’t owe them shit."

She’d been curled up in his lap when he said it, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over the tattoos on his arm.

She had been scared that night—really, truly scared.

Her phone had blown up with messages from friends, all linking her to articles and Twitter threads dissecting her existence. Speculation had spread like wildfire after one blurry photo of them together made it online. Nothing too obvious—just a candid shot of her walking ahead of him, their fingers barely brushing.

But it was enough.

Enough for people to start digging.

Within hours, her social media had been flooded. Comments, theories, strangers demanding to know who the hell she was and why she thought she deserved him.

She had wanted to throw her phone into the ocean.

Instead, she had buried her face into the curve of Harry’s neck, inhaling the scent of him—warm skin and expensive cologne and something inherently his. Something safe.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she had admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s grip on her had tightened immediately. Protective. Possessive.

“You don’t have to,” he’d murmured. “Not like that. Not the way they want.”

And that was how they lived. No red carpets. No public declarations. No letting the world in. Just them, in their little bubble—hidden away in hotel rooms and dimly lit apartments, in long drives with the windows down, in whispered confessions at three in the morning.

It was beautiful. It was safe.

But Y/N knew—deep down, in the quiet moments when she was alone with her thoughts—that the world wouldn’t stop trying to tear it apart.

Because it wasn’t just them anymore. It hadn’t been for a while.

And no matter how fiercely Harry tried to protect her from it, the outside world was still watching.

Still waiting.

Still hungry for cracks in the foundation.

They didn’t understand him.

The world saw one version of Harry Styles.

The public version. The one who didn’t give a single shit what anyone thought of him. The one who strolled into interviews with that lazy, half-lidded smirk, sprawled out in his chair like he had all the time in the world, deliberately giving them nothing just to piss them off.

“Harry, is it true you walked out of your last meeting with the label?”

He barely blinked. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Is it also true that you—”

A slow sip of his drink. A deliberate pause.

Then, just for fun, a cocked eyebrow. “Dunno. You tell me.”

Click. Click. Click. Cameras flashing. Headlines already writing themselves.

Harry Styles: Rock’s Most Arrogant Asshole.

Harry Styles—Too Famous To Care?

Harry Styles Gives Zero Fucks About Literally Everything.

It was a game. One he didn’t mind playing.

Because the more they focused on the persona, the less they looked too closely at what really mattered.

The less they dug into his real life.

The less they found her.

Because private Harry?

A completely different person.

Private Harry sent texts like, “be home in 5”, because he knew she worried. Because he knew she’d never say it out loud, but if he was running late, she’d start pacing the kitchen, chewing at her bottom lip, imagining the worst.

Private Harry stole her hand cream and chapstick just to smell like her when she wasn’t around.

Private Harry carried her bags through airports like they weighed nothing, insisting every time, “Not letting you lift a damn thing, love.”

Private Harry curled around her in his sleep, face buried against the curve of her neck, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns along her spine until he drifted off—breathing easier when she was there.

No one saw that Harry.

And he preferred it that way.

But every once in a while, the world got a glimpse.

And when they did, it fucking broke the internet.

One moment in particular had gone insanely viral.

It had been a bad day—one of those relentless, aggressive paparazzi swarms outside a studio in L.A.

Harry had already been in a foul mood—late for a meeting, running on three hours of sleep, coming off a night of back-to-back phone calls that had left him rubbing his temples in frustration.

The cameras had been waiting for him the second he stepped out the door.

“Harry! Over here!”

“Harry, how’s the new album?”

“Harry, what’s the deal with the tour delay?”

He ignored them. Didn’t even look up.

Then someone got too close—flashed a camera right in his face, nearly knocking into him.

And that was it.

He snapped.

“Fuck off, yeah?” Sharp, cutting, the words slicing through the air like a whip. His jaw locked, his body tense.

Paparazzi shuffled back, startled.

They knew his reputation.

They’d seen him do this before.

They thought that was the whole show.

Until Y/N appeared.

She had been standing a few feet behind him, waiting.

The second he turned and saw her, everything about him changed.

His scowl softened. His hands, which had been clenched into fists? Relaxed.

And in front of dozens of cameras, in front of the very people he’d just been spitting fire at, Harry immediately reached for her—a steadying touch to her back, a soft tilt of his head. “Y’alright, love?”

Quiet. Gentle. Intimate.

As if nothing else existed in that moment but her.

The paparazzi?

Fucking shook.

The clip blew up online within hours.

Side-by-side comparisons flooded Twitter:

🚨 Harry Styles telling the press to fuck off vs. Harry Styles turning into the softest human alive the second his girlfriend walks into frame. 🚨

Memes. Reactions. Fans dissecting the exact millisecond his demeanor changed.

WHO IS SHE?!

HOW DOES SHE HAVE HIM WRAPPED AROUND HER FINGER LIKE THAT?!

The discourse was endless.

And Harry?

Didn’t say a damn word about it.

Because as long as they were talking about that, they weren’t looking for more.

They weren’t digging deeper.

And that meant she was still safe.

For now.

But the internet was relentless.

Because the thing about secrets—especially ones that belong to someone as famous as Harry Styles—is that they don’t stay secrets for long.

And when people suspect even the smallest sliver of something?

They become obsessed.

It started with something small.

Something that, to anyone else, would have seemed like nothing at all.

Harry had been spotted leaving a café in London, his sleeves rolled up, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a coffee cup in one hand.

But that wasn’t what fans noticed.

No.

What they noticed was the bracelet on his wrist.

A thin, woven band. Nothing fancy, nothing designer.

And—most importantly—not his.

The theories exploded.

GUYS. HARRY’S WEARING A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET. HAS HE EVER WORN ONE BEFORE? NO. WHO MADE IT?!

Look at the colors. Do we think there’s a meaning?

I AM SO SERIOUS THIS IS A HANDMADE BRACELET SOMEONE IS IN LOVE WITH HIM AND IT IS NOT ME

WHO THE FUCK IS SHEEEE?

There was no confirmation.

No proof.

But that didn’t stop people from digging.

Because once the internet smelled a mystery, they wouldn’t let it go.

Then came the coffee shop photo.

Blurry. Grainy. Taken at just the right angle to be nearly useless—but not quite.

Because despite the bad quality, despite the distance, despite everything, one thing was clear.

He wasn’t alone.

There was a girl across from him.

A girl who wasn’t famous.

A girl who was sitting comfortably in his presence, laughing at something he said, one hand wrapped around her mug, the other resting—casually, easily—on the table between them.

Too close.

Too familiar.

Too real.

The internet lost its collective mind.

HARRY STYLES SPOTTED WITH THE MYSTERY GIRL IN LONDON—NEW GIRLFRIEND?!

HARRY DATING SOMEONE? WHO IS SHE?!

WHO IS SHE. WHO IS SHE. WHO IS SHE. WHO IS SHE. WHO IS SHE.

I KNOW WHO SHE IS @yourusername!!

The photo was picked apart frame by frame.

Theories flooded TikTok and Twitter.

Some people were excited—because Harry in love?! Soft domestic boyfriend Harry?! They’d been dreaming of this for years.

But not everyone was happy.

Because some people… some people wanted access.

Some people wanted control.

Some people wanted to destroy anything that felt too real.

It started small.

A few comments.

A few tweets.

A few people saying she wasn’t good enough.

That she was using him.

That she was just another clout chaser who would milk this for all it was worth.

Then the DMs started.

Vicious. Personal. Cruel.

You’ll never be good enough for him.

You��re ruining his career.

No one wants you here.

He’ll leave you just like he’s left all the others.

And she told herself that she wouldn’t let it get to her.

That it didn’t matter.

That these people didn’t know her.

That as long as Harry was with her—really with her—nothing else mattered.

But it wasn’t just online anymore.

Because now, when she stepped outside, she swore she could feel the eyes on her.

Now, when she walked into her favorite coffee shop, she hesitated—half-expecting someone to recognize her.

Now, when she reached for her phone, her hands shook.

She started pulling away. Just a little.

Stopped texting first.

Stopped answering right away.

Stopped leaning into his touch as freely as she had before.

And Harry—because of course Harry noticed—tilted his head at her one night when she turned away from his kiss, his brow furrowing, his thumb tracing soft circles against her wrist.

“Alright, love?”

Her chest ached.

Because he was looking at her like that.

Like he knew.

Like he could see right through her.

Like he was already worried.

She forced a smile. Pressed a quick, barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

And lied.

The industry party was a mistake.

Y/N had known it the second they walked in.

The air inside the private venue was thick with expensive perfume, whiskey, and the kind of arrogance that could only come from people who knew they were untouchable.

The laughter was too loud. The conversations too sharp, dripping with faux warmth and hidden daggers.

She felt out of place immediately.

It wasn’t her world.

It never had been.

And standing next to Harry—Harry, who fit into this world so effortlessly, who could command attention just by existing, who seemed to belong in a way she never could—only made it worse.

He hadn’t let go of her hand since they arrived.

Had kept her close, thumb brushing over the back of her knuckles, squeezing her fingers in silent reassurance every few minutes, as if he could feel the tension in her shoulders, sense the way she was holding her breath.

But no amount of grounding touches could change the fact that she didn’t belong here.

That much became even more obvious when the wrong person decided to open their mouth.

He was a producer.

Smarmy. Arrogant. The kind of man who loved the sound of his own voice and had been in the industry long enough to think he could get away with saying anything.

And for some reason—maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was just sheer audacity—he chose her as his next target.

“Didn’t think this was your type, Harry.”

Y/N froze.

Harry stiffened next to her.

The producer took a slow sip of his drink, eyes flickering over her like she was something to be inspected.

“Quiet little thing, huh? Thought rockstars liked more excitement.”

Her stomach dropped.

It wasn’t just the words.

It was the way he said them.

The smirk. The condescension. The absolute certainty that he was untouchable, that he could say whatever the fuck he wanted without consequence.

Y/N shrank back before she could stop herself.

And that was when Harry snapped.

He didn’t move right away.

Didn’t react instantly.

Just went completely, unnervingly still.

A muscle jumped in his jaw.

His fingers—still tangled with hers—tightened.

And then—slowly, deliberately—he turned.

And stepped right into the guy’s space.

Harry Styles didn’t have to raise his voice to be intimidating.

Didn’t have to yell, didn’t have to make a scene.

All he had to do was look at someone the right way.

And the producer? He knew.

He fucking knew.

Because suddenly, the confidence wavered.

The smirk faded.

The hand holding his drink trembled just slightly.

“She’s worth more than you ever will be,” Harry said, voice low, icy, laced with so much venom that Y/N shivered.

And then—as if to drive the point home—his hand found her waist, pulled her against him, shielded her from the world with nothing but the sheer force of his presence.

It was a warning.

A claim.

And everyone in the room fucking knew it.

He didn’t let go of her for the rest of the night.

Didn’t stop touching her.

Didn’t stop checking on her.

And when they finally left—when they were finally alone—he held her even closer.

She should have felt safe.

Should have felt protected.

But instead, something heavy settled in her chest.

Because the truth was, this wasn’t just about one asshole at a party.

It was about all of it.

The industry. The fans. The internet. The constant feeling of not being enough.

And maybe… maybe they were right.

Maybe she really wasn’t enough for him.

She wasn’t going to say it.

She wasn’t.

But then Harry—still holding her, still watching her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered—brushed his lips against her forehead, whispered, “You alright, love?”

And it just—it broke her.

Her breath hitched.

And suddenly, she was blurting it out before she could stop herself.

“Maybe they’re right,” she whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Harry froze.

“Maybe I’m not enough for you.”

His entire body tensed.

Like she had just physically hit him.

Like the words had physically hurt him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

It wasn’t a plea.

It wasn’t a request.

It was a command.

His hands framed her face, tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

And when she did—when she really looked at him—she almost couldn’t handle what she saw.

Because he was devastated.

Shattered.

“Don’t you ever—” His breath shuddered, his forehead pressing against hers. “—say that again.”

She swallowed. “Harry—”

“No.” His grip tightened, like he was afraid she’d slip away if he let go. “You belong with me. Here. Always.” His lips brushed hers, desperate, aching. “And I don’t care what anyone else says.”

She closed her eyes.

Breathed him in.

Let him hold her together, piece by piece.

Because if Harry Styles believed she belonged—

Maybe—just maybe—she could believe it, too.

The storm hadn’t passed.

Not really.

The world still had its claws in them, still watched their every move, still dissected every glance, every touch, every fleeting moment caught on camera.

But Harry… Harry never wavered.

Not once.

Not even when the headlines got uglier.

Not even when the whispers turned into full-blown speculation.

Not even when she started pulling back again, flinching at every flash of a camera, hesitating before reaching for his hand in public, terrified of giving them more fuel.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

But he didn’t push.

Didn’t force her to talk about it.

Didn’t tell her that she was still enough, still his, still the only thing in his life that mattered more than anything.

No.

Harry Styles didn’t waste his breath on words.

He showed her.

And the whole damn world saw it.

Madison Square Garden.

A sold-out crowd.

Phones up. Lights blinding.

It was a big night—bigger than most.

The kind of night that would be talked about for years, the kind of performance that would live forever in grainy fan videos, breathless social media posts, and blurry concert footage.

And she wasn’t supposed to be there.

Hadn’t planned on coming.

Had told Harry she’d stay home—avoid the cameras, avoid the crowd, avoid the possibility of being dragged into something she never wanted to be a part of.

But somehow—somehow—she found herself standing in the wings, heart in her throat, hands curled into fists at her sides as she watched him command the stage.

It was impossible not to be captivated.

Impossible not to watch the way he moved, the way he laughed into the mic between songs, the way he glowed under the stage lights.

He was in his element.

He belonged here.

And she—

Well.

She was just trying to stay invisible.

But then—

He turned.

Looked right at her.

And everything stopped.

Because suddenly—mid-show, mid-crowd, mid-fucking-Madison-Square-Garden—Harry Styles did something he never did.

He talked about her.

On stage.

For the world to hear.

“This one’s for someone who thinks she doesn’t belong in my world,” he said, voice steady, eyes never leaving hers.

The crowd screamed.

A roar—loud and deafening and completely unaware of what was actually happening.

“But she is my world.”

Her breath caught.

And then—before she could process what was happening—

He started playing.

A new song.

Unreleased.

Just for her.

And the lyrics—oh, the fucking lyrics.

They were filled with pieces of them.

Little inside jokes woven into verses, fragments of whispered late-night confessions hidden in melodies, the kind of details that only she would understand.

A love letter.

A declaration.

A warning to the world that she was his and he was hers, and that nothing—not the industry, not the headlines, not the relentless scrutiny of millions—could change that.

The internet lost its mind.

Clips went viral within minutes.

Fan theories exploded.

But none of it mattered.

Not really.

Because in that moment—in the middle of everything, in front of everyone, under the brightest damn spotlight possible—

It was just them.

And she belonged.

She didn’t hear the rest of the set.

Not really.

Not past the pounding of her heart, not past the static in her brain, not past the overwhelming realization that he had just done that.

For her.

For everyone to hear.

The screaming of the crowd blurred into white noise. The energy in the arena buzzed around her, the walls seeming to pulse with the sound of thousands of people still losing their minds.

But she couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t do anything except stare at the stage where he still stood, grinning like he hadn’t just shattered her entire world in the best possible way.

Because Harry Styles didn’t do things like this.

He dodged questions in interviews.

Shrugged off rumors.

Gave the media nothing to work with.

And yet, tonight—tonight, he had given them everything.

And she had no idea how to breathe through it.

Somewhere along the way, her fingers had curled into the fabric of her sweater, clutching at herself like it might help her stay grounded. Like she wasn’t seconds away from dissolving into nothing but feelings.

Because she knew what this meant.

Knew what it would cause.

Knew that by morning, headlines would be flooded with theories, and her name—or at least her existence—would be dragged into the light again.

But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Because he’d said she was his world.

He’d said she belonged.

And maybe—just maybe—she believed him.

She was still in a daze when the show ended.

Still stuck in her own head when the lights in the arena dimmed, when the roaring of the crowd turned to scattered cheers and fading echoes of his name.

She barely noticed the way people moved around her.

Security, crew members, the distant hum of conversation—it all faded into the background.

Until—

“There you are.”

Her breath caught.

And then he was there.

Harry.

Still sweaty, still breathless from the high of performing, still looking at her like she was the only thing in the entire fucking world.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Didn’t ask if she’d liked the song.

Didn’t joke about how she’d better have been paying attention.

Didn’t do anything except close the space between them, hands gripping her face, lips pressing against her forehead, breath warm and shaky against her skin.

And she—

God.

She melted.

Because she could feel it—everything he wasn’t saying, everything he had already said on that stage.

The weight of it settled in her chest, so thick she thought she might break apart.

And then—so quietly she almost missed it—

“Tell me you’re staying.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Because he knew.

Of course he fucking knew.

Knew how much she had struggled with this.

Knew how many times she had almost walked away.

Knew how much she loved him, but how terrified she was of all of this.

And yet—

His voice was steady.

Not desperate.

Not pleading.

Just… certain.

Like he already knew the answer.

Like he already knew her.

And maybe he did.

Because before she could second-guess herself—before she could let doubt creep in, before she could convince herself she wasn’t strong enough for this—

She nodded.

Just once.

And Harry fucking collapsed against her.

Exhaling like he’d been holding his breath for months.

Arms wrapping around her like he was afraid she might disappear.

Lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was anything but careful.

Because it wasn’t a question anymore.

Wasn’t a hesitation or a what if or an I don’t know.

It was real.

It was them.

And she was staying.

His hotel room was dark, save for the soft glow from the city outside.

But she barely noticed.

Because the only thing that mattered—the only thing that existed in this moment—was him.

Harry.

Pressed against her, warm and solid, breath still uneven from everything that had led to this.

His hands were everywhere.

Not rushed. Not desperate. Just certain.

Slow, teasing touches down her spine.

Fingertips tracing the dip of her waist.

Lips skimming along her throat, up to the shell of her ear, where his voice was low, husky, full of intent.

"Gonna remind you who you belong to, yeah?"

Her breath hitched.

Because fuck.

She’d heard that voice before—cocky, teasing, full of mischief when he was playing up his charm.

But this?

This was different.

This was a promise.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, gripping, needing—but he wasn’t in any rush.

Because Harry didn’t just take.

He worshipped.

And she felt it.

In the way his hands moved over her skin—slow, deliberate.

In the way he kissed her—deep, devastating.

Like he had all the time in the world.

Like she was the only thing in it.

His mouth found the curve of her shoulder.

The dip between her ribs.

The inside of her wrist, where her pulse thrummed beneath his lips.

Every inch of her.

And with every kiss, every touch, came a whisper.

"You're everything, love."

"Perfect for me."

"Mine."

Her face burned, but he wouldn’t let her look away.

Wouldn’t let her shrink away from the way he saw her.

Because when she got shy—when she tried to hide—

He caught her chin, thumb tracing her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze.

And fuck, that look.

Like she was something sacred.

Like she was something he could never get enough of.

"Look at you, taking me so well."

Her breath shuddered out of her.

And God, he knew what he was doing.

The filthy praise, the way he held her like she was precious, the possessiveness in his voice—

It was too much and not enough, all at once.

And he didn’t stop.

Didn’t stop until she was falling apart beneath him, gasping his name, hands tangled in his hair, nails raking down his back.

Didn’t stop until she was completely his.

And then—when the world had settled again, when their breathing was slow and tangled together, when she was half-asleep in his arms

Harry took care of her.

Of course he did.

Because he always did.

Pressed a kiss to her temple.

Murmured soft things against her skin as he cleaned her up, as he wrapped her up in him.

Strong arms pulling her close, keeping her warm, keeping her safe.

Only ever his.

And just before sleep pulled her under—

Just before her body fully relaxed against his—

She heard it.

Soft.

Low.

Meant just for her.

"Love you, you know that?"

And she did.

God, she did.

But what really got her—what really made her heart ache in the best, most devastating way—was that he never said it like he needed her to say it back.

Never said it like he was waiting for some kind of validation.

He said it like a fact.

Like the sun would rise tomorrow.

Like the sky was blue.

Like her being his was something permanent.

And maybe it was.

The airport was a nightmare.

The second they stepped inside, cameras started flashing, voices shouting—Harry! Over here! Is that your girlfriend?! Harry, can you confirm—

He ignored them.

Of course he did.

Didn’t even flinch.

Just kept walking, kept his hand firmly on the small of her back, kept her close.

And he was carrying everything.

Her suitcase.

Her tote bag.

Her carry-on.

Even the stupid travel pillow she’d nearly forgotten in the car.

Meanwhile, she was strolling beside him, completely unbothered, sipping her coffee like she didn’t have a single care in the world.

The contrast? Insane.

And the internet lost its mind.

The tweets came fast.

@stylesupdates: HARRY CARRYING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HER BAGS WHILE SHE JUST DRINKS HER COFFEE??? SIR. YOU ARE WHIPPED.

@hslotlover: HE'S WEARING HER SHIRT (it’s posted on her Instagram @yourusername) AGAIN I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY.

Because, yeah.

He was.

It was an old, slightly oversized tee—hers.

The one she always stole from his drawer. The one she wore to bed whenever he wasn’t around.

And now?

Now he was wearing it in public.

On purpose.

Like some kind of quiet, undeniable statement.

Like a middle finger to the world.

But the real moment—the one that cemented it all—was the photo.

A blurry, candid shot someone snapped from across the terminal.

Harry, walking ahead, death glaring at the paparazzi.

Her, right behind him, looking effortlessly soft, untouchable.

And the caption?

"He’s still an asshole, and she’s still his soft spot."

And fuck.

If that wasn’t the truest thing anyone had ever said.

Because the world still didn’t get it.

But he didn’t care.

Because she was his.

And that was enough.

That had always been enough.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖

taglist: @oscahpastry @mema10 @angelbabyyy99 @iloveharrystyles04 @cinemharry @drwho06 @donutsandpalmtrees @panini @mads3502 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @one-sweet-gubler @rizosrizos26 @ciriceimpera @everyscarisahealingplace @hello-heyhi @sexymfharriet @lizsogolden @hannah9921 @chicabonitasblog @huhidontknowstuff @berrywoods1245 @jennovaaa @angeldavis777 @prettygurl-2009 @almostcontentcreator @run-for-the-hills @maudie-duan @dipmeinhoneyh @harrrrystylesslut @georgiarose94 @stylestarkey @watarmelon212 @hopefullimaginer123, @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @adoredeanna @secretisme4 @harry2121 @hopefullimaginer123 @fangirl509east @uncassettodiricordi @2601-london @zbaby @harryscherries28 @michellekstyles

[greengoblinswifey]

Love & Super Bowl

pairing— Cooper Dejean x Fem!Reader

summary— The Eagles just won the Super Bowl and on top of that, it’s your boyfriend’s birthday. So, you reward him and celebrate in the best way possible.

warnings— 18+. fluff, L bombs, praise kink, oral(m&f), fingering, hair pulling, strip tease, ass slapping, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie.

a/n— As requested by the masses, Cooper DeJean smut🙏🏽I need him so fucking baddd

As the final whistle blew, signaling the Philadelphia Eagles’ victory, you leaped from your seat, your cheers echoing amidst the crowd.

Green confetti rained down everywhere and the crowd was going wild, the cheers enough to make you go deaf. Pushing through the chaos, you spotted him on the field, helmet off, hair a mess, the biggest smile on his face. You didn’t even think, just ran straight to him, launching yourself into his arms. He caught you like it was nothing, holding you tight as you wrapped your legs around him.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” you practically shouted, smiling like an idiot.

Cooper laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you so much,” he said, kissing you, green confetti sticking to both of you.

The whole thing felt unreal, like something out of a movie.

Later at the after party, Cooper looked hot—too hot. A cigar between his lips, smirk on his face, championship chain around his neck, you wanted him, badly. But you kept it together, mostly. That is, until you started dancing on him, pushing your ass back to feel how hard you made him.

His grip on your waist tightened. “Baby, stop,” he murmured in your ear, voice low. “You know I’ll take you right here.”

You smirked, looking back at him. “Then do it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just wait ‘til we get back to the hotel.”

And he meant that.

The whole night, he kept you close, his arm around your waist, pulling you into him like he couldn’t stand to be apart for more than five seconds. You could tell he was counting down the minutes until the party was over even though he was enjoying it.

And the second you walked into the hotel room? He had you up against the door, kissing you like he’d been waiting forever. His hands were everywhere, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. His hands on your ass, slapping and squeezing.

“You were amazing tonight,” you murmured between kisses. “So proud of you.”

The Super Bowl, his birthday, and you, his girlfriend? He couldn’t have asked for a better night.

“You deserve to be rewarded tonight,” you murmured, tracing a hand down Cooper’s chest as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He smirked, his eyes dark. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, giving him that look, the one that always made his breath hitch. “Mhm.”

Slowly, you stepped back, peeling off your outfit with a teasing smile, even swaying your hips and bending over to give him a full view of your pussy. He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping the sheets as he took you in, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“God, you’re fucking hot,” he muttered.

You made your way back to him, pushing him gently so he fell against the mattress. His hands immediately found your waist, but you swatted them away playfully. “Let me take care of you,” you whispered, kissing a trail down his torso.

His breathing grew heavier, his muscles tensing under your touch. “You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair as you moved lower, looking up at him through your lashes.

His grip tightened on the sheets, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. “Oh, shit—”

And that was all the encouragement you needed.

After ridding him of his undergarments, his cock sprang free, hard and already leaking. You took ahold of him, hand barely able to go around it all before you kissed the tip. He sucked in a breath, his eyes laser focused on you as you trailed your tongue up and down the veins on his thick shaft.

“You’re such a tease baby,” he chucked, “C’mon, take my dick down that throat.”

He rested his hand on your head and you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue until he hit the back of your throat. You let him settle there for a minute, relishing in how stretched out your mouth was and how sexy his soft moans sounded before you began moving your head.

“Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking amazing,” he moaned.

You pulled him out of your mouth, leaving just the tip in and suckled on it. He was so sensitive, throwing his head back and gripping the sheets as if to anchor himself. Your lips trailed from his shaft to his balls, sucking as he whimpered soft praises.

“That feels so good. You’re gonna make me cum,” he murmured, breath heaving as he stared down at you.

Taking him back down your throat, you bobbed your head faster, hands caressing his balls as they tightened. With a pop, you took him out of your mouth. “Cum down my throat, you deserve it.”

He bucked his hips, moaning your name as his load shot down your throat. You didn’t stop though, taking him deeper, bobbing your head faster, determined to get every reaction and every last drop of cum out of him.

When you were finally done with him, he pulled you up into a sloppy kiss, savoring the taste of himself on your tongue. “Thank you so much, baby. You always know how to make me feel good,” he praised.

You pushed his hair back, littering his face with kisses. His hands went to your ass as his lips captured yours in a kiss that was even deeper than the last, squeezing and caressing. He had your leg up, trailing his fingers slowly along your thigh until they reached your clit.

“Baby,” you whined. “You always make me feel good but tonight is your night.”

Cooper shifted until his face was hovering over your pussy. “I don’t care. I need to taste you.”

Your half hearted protests caught in your throat as his mouth connected with your clit, sucking as though he had a point to prove. His tongue lapped at your juices, and you cried out as he abruptly slipped a finger inside you.

“God, you taste fucking incredible,” he muttered.

His tongue worked with precision, flicking your clit as his finger curled inside you, meeting your sweet spot with every thrust. You grabbed his hair, grinding on his tongue as he worked you over and before long, you could feel the coil in your abdomen tighten.

“Clenching around my fingers so tight. Give me my reward baby, cum in my mouth,” Cooper said, between licks.

Your back arched from the bed and you felt a rush of liquid leave your pussy. He lapped at your juices like a man starved, guiding you through your high as your entire body shook.

“That’s my girl, that’s my perfect fucking girl,” he cooed, sucking off his finger and licking his lips.

Your breath hitched. He didn’t even give you a minute to recover. You felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh as he hovered above you, his hair tousled giving him that chiseled look.

“Cooper,” you whined. “I need you so fucking bad. I’ve needed you the moment you started playing on that field, you looked so hot.”

He smirked, rubbing the tip along your folds and collecting your juices. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Without missing a beat you did as you were told. “I want your cock so bad. Please fuck me, I need it. I need you.”

“Good girl.” With his hand wrapped gently around your throat, his cock inched into your pussy. You could feel every vein as he slowly pushed inside you, inch by inch until your nails clawed his back.

“Fuck. This pussy was so needy for me, wasn’t she?” he groaned, his eyes going from his cock buried inside you to your face twisted in pleasure.

You couldn’t answer, his cock had knocked the air out of your lungs but he wasn’t having it. He thrusted harshly, your tits bouncing as your body jolted.

“Answer me,” he said, voice low and rough.

“Yes, Cooper. My pussy’s so needy,” you managed to croak out.

He began moving at a steady pace, hitting all the right spots that made your nails dig into his back even deeper. His hand was still around your throat, gentle but firm as his gaze locked with yours.

“You feel so fucking good. Taking this dick like you’re the champ tonight,” he chuckled, breathlessly.

You spread your legs even wider, the sound of your cries and pussy squelching filling the room.

“Faster, Cooper!” you cried out, feeling yourself tip over the edge.

“Anything for my good girl.”

He pushed your legs behind your head, the angle making his cock slip inside you even deeper. He pressed you into the mattress, pounding your pussy as your loud moans filled the hotel room.

“Oh my God, Cooper! I’m gonna cum!” You were sure the entire floor filled with Eagles players could hear you but in that moment, you didn’t care. Cooper was fucking you too good, still running off the adrenaline from the game.

You moaned his name like a prayer, squirting on his raw cock as he continued slamming into you. He pressed kisses to your lips, still thrusting into you until he flipped you over so you were on your back.

He slapped your ass, making you squeal, then sank right back into you. “So fucking sexy. Take everything I give you.”

You arched your back and his fingers tangled in your hair as he slammed into you from behind. With each thrust, you felt the head of his cock practically kissing your cervix. He stared down at your ass rippling against him and his cock disappearing inside you, covered in your cream.

“You should see how beautiful you look just taking my fucking dickfrom behind,” he groaned, voice raspy. “Can’t believe how lucky I am tonight.”

You pushed back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts and with the way his cock twitched inside you, you could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

“That’s my girl. Push back against my dick. Fuck me back, princess.”

He let go of your hair, hand snaking around your neck as you arched off him and met his thrusts. He titled your head back, pressing a deep kiss to your lips as his hips stuttered.

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum,” he murmured.

Your walls clenched around him, creaming on his cock and soaking him.

“Cum inside me, Cooper,” you breathed, your entire body convulsing from the intense orgasm.

You didn’t need to tell him twice, he slammed into you for the last time, pressing you into the mattress as his load filled you to the brim. A deep a guttural moan left his lips, his cock twitching and painting your insides.

“Don’t move, baby,” he whimpered. “Stay right there, take all my cum. I’m gonna breed this pussy tonight.”

You stayed pressed into the mattress, the feeling of his warm and sticky cum leaving you content until he finally collapsed beside you, panting.

You were still catching your breath, body trembling slightly as Cooper pulled you into his arms. His skin was warm against you, his lips brushing over yours as you both tried to steady yourselves. His hand slid up your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns as he gazed at you with that look he always gave you, like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“You took me so well,” he murmured. “You’re so hot. That was amazing.”

You smiled against his lips, pressing another soft kiss there before pulling back to look at him. “I’m so proud of you, truly,” you whispered. “You did absolutely amazing out there. You’re a fucking Super Bowl champion, Cooper.”

He let out a breathless chuckle and pressed a trail of kisses over your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, making you giggle softly.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, holding you even closer, like he never wanted to let go. “I couldn’t think of a better way to end the night.”

You snuggled deeper into his chest, your fingers lazily tracing over his skin. “I love you too. Happy birthday again,” you whispered back, closing your eyes as his heartbeat thrummed steadily in your ear.

Perfect.

[bisexualiteaa]

Give me this dance

Alternate Silco x fem reader (fluff and smut!)

MDNI!!

Synopsis: In every timeline, you were a part of his life. Right there by his side to bring him outside of his comfort zone and show him some fun. Soon, what started as a mere dance turned into a night neither of you would forget.

Songs for inspo/to listen to while reading:

CW: slight season 2 spoilers! Established friendship, mutual pining, mutual feelings, unrequited feelings, reader is AFAB, reader is a bartender at the last drop, reader has hair, alternate Silco, softer/happier Silco, brief mentions of alcohol, fluff w/ smut, cursing, fïngering, 0ral (fem recieving), nïpple pläy, unprotected seggs, p0rn w/ feelings, rïding, cream 🥧, fluffy ending, proofread, potential spelling/grammar errors, slight OOC Silco, no use of y/n

AN: The way he looked so happy in this timeline, he looks so happy and even more handsome somehow it’s CRAZY!! 😭 Had this one in the works for a while now but it’s finally done! I hope you all enjoy! 🥹♥️

You smiled happily as you were finally able to find your way out from behind the bar, a momentary reprieve from the hustle and bustle, the demand of drink orders that had been steadily building all night. “Come dance with me! I love this song” you remarked to Silco, making his eyes widen with something akin to a look of fear. He was a horrible dancer, and the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of you of all people. He looked to Vander for any bit of advice or help he could give, only earning a grin from the man in response, telling him he was on his own for this one. “I-I’m not very good at dancing I…” Silco tried to explain, stuttering terribly as your hand grabbed his upper arm, causing a blush to trickle across his face and his heart to race in his chest out of nervousness. He didn’t want to turn you down, but he didn’t want to embarrass himself in a bar full of people either. Or embarrass you, for that matter, with being such a terrible dance partner. “Me either, it’s okay! Promise I won’t judge” you reassured with a smile, the faint smell of liquor and mixers entangling with your perfume, creating a smell that was so comforting, so familiar. It was so you and so incredibly intoxicating. “C’mon, let’s have some fun! Dance with me” you tried to persuade him sweetly, gorgeous eyes looking up at him so excitedly, almost twinkling in the warm glow of the lanterns that hung around the bar. How could he possibly say no when you looked at him like that? “What’s the harm? Doubt anyone will even be lookin’” Vander jutted in, cleaning a glass as he spoke and took your side on this, hoping that maybe if Silco danced with you, he would finally tell you how he feels, possibly ending the constant back and forth cycle of mutual pining between you two for good. He was two to one now, leaving him no other choice but to relent. “I suppose I’ll step out of my comfort zone, just this once” he remarked cheekily, making you nearly jump for joy at his response, an elated smile stretching across your lips as you eagerly led him out on the floor to dance. Vander could only laugh as he watched you both act as if you were teenagers all over again, pushing the boundaries of friendship and testing the waters of romance.

You looked up at the taller man in front of you, hazel and green eyes gazing upon you with such light of a man so deeply in love. Your bright, contagious laughter filled the air as you danced to the music, caring not for anything but this moment. Who cared if anyone else was watching? Who what anyone else was thinking? If they were judging. The only person you cared about looking at you was the man you were dancing with. Seeing his eyes glued to you, smiling as he attempting to follow your pace and rhythm was all you needed. This had to be heaven, surely. “I’ve never seen you dance like this before” Silco commented with a cheeky grin, happy to see you so comfortable and carefree while in his presence. “I normally don’t, but for such a special occasion I decided to make an exception” you replied, making him laugh as you both continued to let the beat carry you, finding your feet moving nearly in sync all on their own.

Before you knew it, one dance had turned into quite a few, then quite a few turned into spending nearly all night out there getting caught up in song. Silco found himself enjoying the moment and the chance to be with you far more than he could have ever anticipated. Who knew stepping out of your bubble a little could be so much fun? Suddenly the music had taken on a much slower turn from the rest of the music that had been playing, even the lights had dropped a little to add to the almost romantic atmosphere. You’d never slow danced before, and you figured that you’d likely pulled Silco out of his element for long enough, so you took it as your sign to hop back behind the bar. However before you could, his voice stopped you. “Where are you going?” He asked softly, looking confused and almost hurt that you were going to leave. “Oh, I figured you were probably done dancing for the night so I…I thought I’d head back behind the bar. I didn’t want to force you to stay here dancing all night if it isn’t what you want” you explained, feeling a pang of guilt hit you in the chest as he looked upon you so sadly. Any chance he had to spend with you he would do in a heartbeat, so long as it was with you, he’d do just about anything. “I don’t feel forced. You’ve brought me out of my element yes, but I’ve enjoyed dancing with you. I’d be even happier to continue” he admitted wholeheartedly, making you perk up a little to hear he was enjoying himself, finding yourself a little surprised at the prospect. “Really?” You asked, voice hopeful as you looked to him, watching him shake his head yes, easing your every worry. “Would you give me this dance?” He asked bravely, hand extended out for you to take. You looked to it before looking back up at him with a blushy smile, heart feeling as if it would beat out of your chest from both excitement and anxiousness. “I’d be delighted to” you responded sweetly, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you both to a spot that allowed you enough room while also granting you a little bit of privacy compared to before. “Full disclosure, I’ve never slow danced before” you finally confessed, a little embarrassed but it only made him chuckle. “Me either, it’s okay. I won’t judge” he repeated back to you the exact same thing you’d told him when you asked him to dance, making you laugh at the witty comeback. It was only fair, you supposed. You’d brought him out of his comfort zone and showed him a great time in doing so, it was only fair to allow him to do the same for you. Besides, when would you be able to get this chance to share with him again? Better to take the opportunity, make the best of it and be able to look back on it as a memory someday than not and mourn what could have been. “Clever play, using my own words against me” you replied, making him only grin wider. “Just follow my lead” he spoke confidently, bringing your arm to loop around his neck as one of his hands rested at your hip, the other holding yours as you both stepped and swayed to the beat, keeping it simple. You couldn’t help the rouge that ran across your cheeks however that this was even happening right now. From the close proximity of your chests being pressed together, to your hands being intertwined as he looked down at you with a soft, love struck smile, all of it was so romantic. So intimate. It left you nervous, not wanting to mess up and ruin the beautiful tension that had begun to set in between you now. Yet you felt so alive, so free. It felt like one of those romantic moments you’d only ever heard of in the books you’d read. You could hardly believe it was actually real. That this was real.

You smiled up at him as you stared into his gorgeous eyes, finding your hand moving from its original place to instead come and rest along the scarred side of his cheek almost instinctively, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against the textured skin there. He was always so self conscious about his scars, especially around you. He didn’t want you to think less of him because of them, or find him less attractive because of them, often covering them with makeup to at least cover the color of the scar tissue and make it blend in with his natural skin tone better. Yet you thought that they were what made him so stunning. Paired with his piercing eyes and the confidence he carried about himself so effortlessly, even the way he dressed, everything about him was just so incredibly special. He stood out amongst the rest of the crowd. Gods he was so handsome. He was so handsome it was almost intimidating, yet you’d known him long enough to know there was no reason to be.

Your sweet gesture made his heart skip in his chest, beating harder and faster than it already had as he smiled down at you. He wondered to himself if it was loud enough for you to hear as it slammed against his sternum. You couldn’t help the way your eyes seemed to curiously flit between his and his lips occasionally, silently wondering how they would feel if they were pressed against your own. Would they be soft? They looked soft. Would they fit well against your own? You hoped to find out. It made you start to think that perhaps the slower song was chosen on purpose, strategically placed so you would dance with him to it. A plan to get you to get him out of his comfort zone, show him some fun, all while setting you both up with the perfect opportunity to speak on feelings that rested unspoken between you for far too long now. Or maybe you were just lucky enough to have fate hand you such a beautiful opportunity. Who were you to turn it down if so? “You’re quite good at this” you complimented, making him give a breathy chuckle. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for” he replied, making you hum with a sweet smile as you looped both of your arms around his neck, taking the bold step and resting your head against his chest as you continued to sway. He froze for a moment as you did, his hands finding your hips before wrapping his arms around you as it set in that you were leaned against him like this. That you felt safe enough with him to do so. It made him nearly dizzy at the thought of having you like this, to have you so close, for you to want this with him. It left him to silently thank every deity above for the opportunity as he shut his eyes and rested his chin on top of your head for a moment, allowing the both of you to sway to the rhythm and just enjoy each other’s warmth.

When the song had finally come to an end, you lifted your head up to look at him, eyes once again flickering between his gaze and his lips with that same curiosity. Only this time it was much stronger than it was before. “Thank you, for dancing with me. For…for choosing to share this moment with me” you said meekly, making him look to you as one of his hands cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin just as you’d done to him. For a moment the world was completely lost on you, it felt as if it was just the two of you here. “No matter the options, no matter the occasion I’d choose you, always” he confessed, tone so genuine, words so heartfelt that the butterflies in your stomach had returned tenfold, leaving you to bite your lip as you bit back a school-girlish giggle. If your mind wasn’t screaming at you to kiss him before, it most certainly was now. “Sil?” You inquired softly, watching as his eyes now trailed to your plush lips before returning your gaze, doing the same to you that you’d been doing to him this whole time. It nearly drove you wild, seeing the want in his eyes, the admiration. All for you. “Yes?” He asked in reply, watching a smile stretch to your lips before you spoke, looking at you expectantly. “Do us both a favor and just kiss me already, would you?” You responded in a cheeky but confident tone, making him hum in amusement at your boldness. He loved it about you, so unafraid to go for the things you wanted or that made you happy. He was honored to be that for you. “I thought you’d never ask” he answered, not wasting even a moment before his lips were on yours, finally answering all curiosities and all thoughts as he held you close. Vander gave an excited whistle and clap that left you smiling into it as you pulled him down against you a little more, showing him just how much you’d wanted this. He chuckled into it, responding by squeezing your hip as your lips melded together for a little while longer, a good handful of people cheering you both on before finally pulling apart. You smiled up at him excitedly as his hand grabbed yours, squeezing it lovingly.

“Well, as delightful as this has been, it’s about time for my shift to be over. Do you…maybe wanna get out of here?” You asked, hoping he would say yes, praying that when you went to put your apron back behind the bar and walk out, you’d be walking out with him. He tried so hard to hide his surprise and excitement at your question, but the way his brows raised a little and eyes opened a little wider didn’t go unnoticed by you, making you giggle softly as you saw it. “Are you asking me to come home with you?” He asked curiously, wanting to make sure he understood exactly what you were implying, not wishing to misread you and do something that would make you upset or assume something incorrectly. “Yes, yes I am” you replied as you looked up at him, awaiting his answer. He was dreaming, he must have been. Had you really just asked him to come home with you? “After you” he said, making you smile and giggle. “G-Great! Yeah, uhh just…let me put this behind the bar for tomorrow then we’ll head out” you replied, skittering behind the bar to quickly take off and fold your apron before tucking it away, informing Vander that you were headed home for the night. He shot you a grin and Silco a knowing glance as you walked back over to him, collecting your things before heading out the door together.

You smiled and giggled with excitement into your shared kiss as your back hit one of the walls in your home that you’d only just stepped foot in but a moment ago. You’d barely even made it in the door that was haphazardly shut with his foot, your hands running up from his chest to tangle in his neatly slicked back hair as your lips melded together in a sinful dance. His one hand rested against the wall, propping himself up with his arm and caging you in a little as the other sat at the back of your thigh, allowing your leg to rest against his hip so he could slot himself even closer to you. He’d spent long enough without you, long enough chasing circles around you, any space between you now was eliminated the moment it was noticed. You felt him slide closer to you between your legs, his other hand coming down from the wall to do the same to your other thigh, tapping it so you would hop up and wrap your legs around his hips. As you did so, he had you effectively pinned against the wall, your hips pressed against his with a moan as your tongues fought in a battle for dominance over the other. One he was delighted to let you win, allowing your tongue to explore his, the taste of whiskey, smoke and tobacco still hanging heavily from his lips. It was an addicting taste. You gasped into the kiss as he rolled his hips against yours, leaving you to pull away to rest your head against the wall as his lips trailed your neck, kissing and nipping at all your sensitive spots. He simply couldn’t get enough of you, your warmth, the feel of your soft skin against his own, the sounds of your melodic moans filling his ears, it was all such bliss. And Janna almighty was he a lucky man to be the one who gets to see you like this. His nimble fingers danced curiously beneath the bottom of your shirt, calloused hands caressing your waist. He aided you in removing your shirt, leaving you there before him in your bra and the sight alone made him throb against you, earning a quiet gasp with delight as you looked to him excitedly. Lust filled your gaze, pupils nearly encompassing the entirety of your irises as a smile still rested on your lips, waiting for his next move. His hands found their way behind you, undoing the clasps to your bra and watching as you tossed it aside without a care. “Beautiful” was all he could say as he gazed upon you, leaving you to blush and give a hum in response.

Once you’d finally made it to your bedroom, you aided in the removal of his shirt, undoing the buttons, unraveling all the stylish layers teasingly yet carefully slow while looking up at him. You notified his fingers twitched with anticipation, patiently waiting for you to finish so he could feel your skin against his once more. Once they’d finally been undone, they trailed along your floor towards the foot of your bed, allowing you to gaze upon his slender form. You smiled with all the kindness in the world as you gazed upon him, looking at him as if he were a god standing before you, offering himself to you. It all felt so unreal. Your hands rested on his chest once he’d leaned in closer, begging for the taste of your lips against his once more, helping you to lay on your back as he kissed you much softer this time. Your arms looped around his neck to hold him close, inviting him to continue. He eagerly straddled your frame, one of his hands coming down to caress the curve of your waist before reaching upwards to your chest. He paused for a moment, unsure of whether it was okay for him to touch, so you took the chance to grab his hand, placing it there for him with a playful grin into your shared kiss before looping your arms back around him, hands splayed against his lithe figure. You moaned sweetly in response as he massaged your breast in his hand, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and tangle with your own, deepening the kiss.

Before you knew it his hand was trailing down your frame once again, fingers slipping past your naval and down towards the waistband of your pants. He broke the kiss to work at the button of your pants, leaving you panting for air as a flush set against your cheeks. You giggled as you watched him fumble with the button and zipper for a little bit, the eager shake of his hands making it prove to be a bit more difficult before he was finally able to get it undone. He looked to you for permission as his fingers hooked in the waistband, waiting for you to tell him it was okay. When your hands pushed down against his own to help them inch down your hips, he took that as his answer, pulling them, along with your panties, down and off of your legs before tossing them behind him unceremoniously, making you laugh. “Eager, are we?” You teased with a grin, making him chuckle. “I don’t think you understand just how long I’ve wanted you” he replied, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine and stoked the fire burning in your core at the thought that he’s craved you like this. That he’s fantasized about this. “Then what are you waiting for?” You asked, making him shoot you a crooked grin before sinking down and settling between your legs, laying gentle yet hot kisses to your inner thighs. “For you to scream my name for all of Zaun to hear as I please you like no one else can” he responded confidently with a much deeper tone, hands resting on your thighs and keeping them spread as he brought his lips to your throbbing clit.

Your reaction was immediate, back arching slightly from the mattress as your hands flew down to tangle in his hair. “Fuck…” you cursed quietly before moaning as his tongue licked flatly up your slit then fluttered against your aching bud. He moaned into you at your taste, opening his eye to look up at you as he sat between your legs lavishing you with attention, and gods above was he graced with a beautiful sight. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth open as moans billowed from your throat unrestrained, your chest heaving up and down with each labored breath. His every fantasy was ruined in this moment, because nothing, absolutely nothing would ever look better than you do right now. Nothing will ever hold a candle to your beauty as he pleased you. You looked fucking ethereal. Nothing could have possibly prepared him for it, for how perfect you looked, how delicious you tasted, how sexy you sounded moaning his name like a mantra for a lost god. He’d give anything to stay here, like this. All you’d ever have to do is ask.

You felt as one of his nimble fingers prodded at your entrance, easing its way in thanks to the mix between your slick and his saliva before searching for any of your sensitive spots. You gasped as he curled his finger within you, feeling him rubbing against your gummy walls as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it. It left you dizzy, weak even, with just how good it felt. “Gods, yes! Just like that” you encouraged, one hand smoothing through his hair as you looked down at him while he worked you with his mouth, your fingers of your other hand coming up to toy with one of your sensitive nipples, adding to your pleasure. He groaned into you as he took notice of this, enjoying the sight of you playing with yourself as he brought you pleasure, listening to you moan his name like a prayer. None of Zaun would be able to mistake who had you feeling this good once he was through with you. His free hand came up to mirror your ministrations, showing your other breast some much needed attention. You gave a louder moan in surprise as he pinched it playfully between his thumb and index finger before rolling it beneath the pad of his thumb to soothe. The pain sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your clit, making him grin against you as he worked a second finger inside of you whilst skillfully tweaking your nipple.

You started to feel that all too familiar feeling of tension beginning to fester and rise in your lower belly, so close to snapping any moment now. Your hips rutted against his tongue and fingers, making him moan into your cunt as you used him for your pleasure, trying desperately to gain any bit of friction you could to propel you over the edge, and allow you to tumble into euphoria. “So close, please…” you begged through breathless pants, absolutely desperate to cum. It was when his fingers curled and rubbed against your walls once more that he found that spongy spot within you that lit your every nerve ending on fire. “Right there! Oh gods, Silco please” you let out, making him continue exactly what he was doing, hearing as your voice raised a bit higher in pitch, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. Before you could even think to warn him, your orgasm was rushing over you, consuming you whole as you screamed his name without a care for any consequence. Your back arched from the bed, eyes rolling back and your legs attempting to shut tightly as you twitched and writhed with every movement of his tongue and fingers that worked to help you down from cloud nine and draw out your pleasure for as long as possible, careful not to overstimulate you. Perhaps that could be saved for another day, should he be lucky enough.

He wiped his lips of your slick with the back of his hand before trailing them back up your body, stopping to suck gently on one of your nipples purely to see you writhe against him with need. He chuckled at your pathetic whine as your fingers came to the waistband of his pants, giving them an impatient tug. “Need me that bad, do you?” He asked with a cheeky grin down at you, the sight of you beneath him like this better than any dream he’s ever had. Seeing your hair settle around you against the sheets, the sight of you naked before him, glowing from the after effects of your orgasm that *he’d* given you. Seeing you wanting him just as much as he’d wanted you. It was unreal. “I don’t think you understand just how long I’ve wanted you” you replied cleverly, using his own words against him like he had done to you earlier, making him chuckle once more. Could you be any more perfect? “Then what are you waiting for?” He asked, making you grin deviously as you flipped him over on his back this time, straddling his hips now as your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him pressed against the mattress beneath you. His eyes looked to you with surprise at your quick and dexterous movements before waiting to hear what you had to say in response. “For you to take your pants off so all of Zaun can listen as you please me like no one else ever will” you replied with a confident grin, watching as he did exactly as you asked.

You both moaned pleasantly as he bottomed out, fully seated inside of you now, the angle allowing him to sit deeper within you as you straddled his hips. You gave yourself a moment to adjust, leaning down to kiss him once more to distract yourself from the momentary pain of the stretch. You could feel him throb inside of you with excitement, each pulse of his cock sending a pleasant tingle to your core. It was as he shifted his hips a little to get more comfortable that both of you moaned, the movement accidentally causing him to thrust into you a bit. So you started to move up and down on him at a slow pace to start, testing the waters to see if you were ready. And fuck, were you ready. He was in so deep like this that his tip nestled against your cervix each time you would sink back down onto him. It was heavenly. “Fuck…” you sighed as you started to pick up the pace a little, the sounds of his thighs meeting your ass, your shared panting and the slight creak of the bed becoming louder with your efforts, filling your room with the sinful symphony of sex. His hands slipped down your body to rest at your hips, gripping them tightly as he watched you skillfully bounce up and down on his cock, enjoying the sight of his length disappearing inside of you then peeking back out. “Janna almighty…” he let out, absolutely enraptured with the way your cunt wrapped around him so well, welcoming him so perfectly, he couldn’t help it. You were so warm, so wet, so tight around him that it left him breathless, fighting to not cum so soon. You couldn’t help but to giggle at his remark. “Feel good?” You asked between breathless pants, watching as he looked up at you, bewildered that you could possibly ask such a question. “Better than good, you feel incredible” he replied, a groan leaving him upon a particularly harsh thrust of your hips, watching you get lost in your pleasure as you rode him. You were quite the sight to behold while in the throws of your pleasure, watching your beautiful tits bounce as you moved, your head tilted back and eyes close as you’d find that perfect rhythm that drove you both wild. Every bit of you was so perfect in his eyes, he just simply couldn’t get enough. He watched as you bit your soft, kissable lips, teeth working at them and it made him crave the taste of them again, the feel of them against his own.

He sat up for a moment, bringing himself now eye level with you as you continued to ride him but now at a different angle. One that was even better. You hadn’t even thought that possible. He chased your lips, capturing them with his own as he started to thrust his hips up into you, matching your pace with precision. With each roll of his hips, not only was he hitting deeply inside, but your clit was getting new found attention, leaving you to moan into the kiss as you met his thrusts eagerly. “You’re perfect” he complimented, his lips trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder as you felt that ever familiar coil begin to wind tight in your core again. It was as you were about to reach your peak that the words left you before you could even register that you’d said them. “I love you” you confessed, panting as you looked upon him with a blush tinting your cheeks and a hopeful, yet vulnerable look in your eyes that told him your sentiment was completely sincere. That this meant something far more to you than just a heated moment to be forgotten about or never spoken of once morning came. You loved him. He smiled so purely, so joyfully as the words graced his ears. “For so long I’ve dreamt of hearing those words from you” he replied, making you smile back as you finally realized that the feeling was mutual, no longer scared of the potential of rejection. “I love you” he reciprocated, making your heart race as you kissed him, your hands cupping his face as he held you, rutting his hips up into you with newfound fervor. “So close…” you panted once you both broke apart for air, feeling yourself sit dizzily at the edge of bliss as his lips trailed along your neck. “Cum for me, darling. Give it to me” he said, angling his hips perfectly to stroke that spot deep inside of you that had you keening. That was all it took. The tension within your core blossomed to warmth as your every nerve ending surged with fiery pleasure, your walls clenching around him as you moaned his name loudly, clinging to him for dear life whilst your orgasm consumed you. The sight of you twitching and nearly convulsing in ecstasy, mixed with the way your cunt squeezed him even tighter sent him toppling over the edge soon after, spilling himself inside of you with a deep, almost guttural groan. You gave a pleased hum at the sensation, feeling him throb within you and fill you so incredibly full as you both sat there, fighting to catch your breath and looking upon one another in awe. Enjoying the buzzing sensation of your shared afterglow, you leaned in to the press a gentle, loving kiss to his lips, further solidifying that your words genuine and that this moment had indeed meant something. When you pulled back, your hand resting gently on the scarred side of his cheek, you were graced with the most love struck look, making you smile and giggle. “What?” You asked, a cheeky grin stretched to your lips. “Nothing, just taking in the view” he said, making you hum. “Is that so?” You asked. “You’re incredible” he said, turning to kiss your palm as he held his hand against the back of yours, leaning into your soft touch, simply wishing to stay there and enjoy the intimacy of the moment together.

It was as you were both lying there in your bed peacefully, having come back from getting cleaned up, you’d even gone another round whilst in the shower, as an entertaining thought came to you. “You wanna know something funny?” You asked, propping your head up on your hand, leaning your weight on your elbow as you laid on your side, facing him. “What’s that?” He asked, eyes trailing over your frame with wonder, in awe of the fact that you truly were here before him, and that you both shared such an intimate moment together not only once, but twice. Your top half was peaking out from beneath the blanket, allowing him the view of your chest and all the marks he’d left upon your delicate skin as he waited with much anticipation for what you had to say. “If you think about it; it took us dancing with one another to stop dancing around each other. Kinda funny how that worked out, don’t you think?” you spoke with a grin, making you both laugh. “I suppose it is” he replied, making you smile and hum as you looked to him lovingly, happy to see him here with you, happy to have shared what you did with him. “I love you, Sil. Thanks again for tonight” you said sweetly, making him smile as you said it. “I love you too, and thank you” he replied as you cuddled up to him beneath the covers, his arm slung around your frame protectively as you began to drift peacefully to sleep in his arms.

Perhaps heaven wasn’t a moment in time, or an action to be taken, but rather a person, and as you sat there in his arms, he could confidently say that you were that person.

[lilacxquartz]

Can you PLEASE write a Mr crawling pegging fanfic, maybe the Mc has a biting kink too🙏🙏 I don't really have anything too specific in mind, I just want him to get pegged🙏

-👻 anon

such a needy thing;

mr. crawling x f!reader

plot: mr. crawling was often on his knees but tonight he was arching his back for you — themes: pegging, needy/clingy mr. crawling, limited dialogue, dominant!reader, anal (giving) — a/n: finished this up late night, hope this is okay! i couldn’t work biting into the position, but this might be revisited again! — w.c: ~ 1.3k • masterlist • ao3

From the moment you had both discovered each other’s bodies, Mr. Crawling had been awoken with a different sort of hunger that only you could feed. Over and over, he desperately craved the touch of your skin on his, along with all of the soft feelings that came after.

For the most part though? All he wanted to do was to be as close as possible to you, no matter what it took. Perhaps it was natural for your mind to react in such a particular way then, for you to adopt an almost dominant streak when it come to him.

And when such a time arrived, after a long while of explaining (or attempting to), he seemed excited at the prospect, trembling at the thought in anticipation. You tried to explain to him that this was through an object, not through you, but he didn’t care nor have a single protest. He seemed to be happy that you were exploring with him—with only him—ready to melt beneath you in all sorts of ways.

Mr. Crawling’s body quivered as you approached him, goosebumps forming alongside his ashen skin. His lips hinted at excitement, just barely visible behind his cascading long black hair. As you bridged the distance between you both, he whimpered at the thought of what was soon to come.

“Need… you,” he said, branching out his hand to touch against yours. Need. That was a word you had both come to understand; always repeated like a swirling mantra in the back of your head. He needed you always—constantly—just as you needed him too.

You nodded to confirm that this was in fact happening, murmuring out a faint “need you,” back, letting the implication linger in the air, watching as his skin grew somehow clammy and rosy as a flustered state overwhelmed him, his arousal becoming very apparent in between his legs.

Taking the strap from a drawer nearby, you fitted the belt around your hips, adjusting the toy to ensure that it could be secured around you perfectly well. You made sure to find one in a size similar to his own so that the feeling that you gave him could be equal to the one he similar to the one he gave you back.

“I… feel… good?” he asked, taking note of the contraption. How he saw without eyes was an eternal mystery to you.

You nodded again, guiding him over to the bed, gently pushing his body down to the mattress, all the while he regarded you with an almost awestruck stare; his cheeks bleeding crimson as his breath shuddered in jagged gasps.

Letting your eyes wander over to his throbbing need, you snaked down a hand just beneath the fabric he wore, letting his sensitive length fill out your palm. His own hands in turn, balled into fists from the sensation of your skin on his, feeling his cock grow almost impossibly hard. Slowly, you broke through the tension by stroking up and down the shaft, feeling rightfully powerful as he trembled and whined the entire time—completely under your mercy—like melting putty in your hands.

“Do you like this?” you asked, tilting your head off to the side as you studied his reaction intently.

Mr. Crawling nodded eagerly, his voice sounding excited as he replied to you, “I like! I like!”

Seeming pleased with him, you then took a step back, gently turning him over so that the front of his body kissed against the mattress. His palms pressed up against the soft fabric, clawing at the material. He was already so excited and you hadn’t even started yet. How endearing.

Steadily, you lifted his hips closer to your own, lining up the lubricated tip of the strap-on against his tight, awaiting ask. You rubbed the head of the toy against his entrance, enjoying the sounds of his needy whimpers, involuntarily begging for you to enter.

Slowly, you began to push forward, not quite feeling the tightness of his insides swallow around the thick girth, but feeling the resistance of his core as you settled deep into him. Mr. Crawling’s body tensed and trembled, but he didn’t seem to be in pain. You were careful, after all. You wanted him to feel good.

And just as you thought that, he confirmed it for you. “Feel good. Feel good.”

Continuing, you eased the strap fully into him, watching with building delight as his back arched inwards in a display of pleasure, all the while you sank the toy as deep as you could go before letting it sit in him, allowing him to memorise the feel of it for a beat before pulling out ever so slightly—slowly fucking him into an impatient, flustered mess.

As you got into the rhythm, you maintained something initially slow for his sake, leaning ever so slightly forward and reaching your hand to meet with his arousal once more. In the heat of the moment, you wrapped your fingers clean around his cock, taking note of just how desperately he bucked into your touch and soon moving his body to milk at the pleasure however much he could.

Soon enough, he descended into a building crescendo of fluttering murmurs that were barely uttered with just how breathless he was. His hips worked to push back against the strap, inviting you to take him even deeper—feeling so loved yet overwhelmed from the sensation of you slamming into the hilt of his ass. He panted heavily with his hair parting with the sweat that clung against it and as he lost himself, he found himself drooling onto the sheets.

Of course, you kept it up for him as you felt around his body, feeling with your own two hands with how he quickly came undone, just barely containing the burning—almost scalding need for his pent-up release. Rutting at a brisker pace that time, you slid in again into his form, hitting all of the right spots all the while his cock began to leak in combination with the act of you dominating him as well as the stroking touch.

His end was close—you could feel it.

As such, you couldn’t help but smile, doubling your efforts in the process and pounding into him with such force that it almost left you feeling just as breathless as he was. Soon enough, his vocalisations became all the less coherent, muttering out a whole slurry of words that you couldn’t understand until finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Mr. Crawling gasped—or rather—choked out a desperate moan, seizing up his body as his orgasm had finally taken him over, possessing him for a moment. His cock pulsed and twitched in your hand, spurting thick, white ropes out and ruining the sheets, before finally collapsing face down into the bed.

Seeming perfectly pleased, you slowly pulled out of him and took the belt off after a moment of silence, watching him surrender beneath you. Feeling your heart melt at the sight, too, you couldn’t help but lay down next to him, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.

Now, Mr. Crawling was a lot taller than you and usually, this sort of experienced would be flipped, but you could feel just how vulnerable felt in your arms for a change. He fit against your cuddling form perfectly with his slightly damp hair sticking against your skin, not that you minded at all.

And as he recovered within your shadow, you stroked along his body with a delicate hand as a familiar word emerged between you both. Something that you had both come to learn and appreciate—something a little more tender than love.

“Yours,” he whispered out right before falling silent, completely and utterly spent and in need of recovery. Your hand rested on his heart as you felt him drift off, before settling even further into the back crook of his neck, feeling so lucky to have someone like him, forever eternally close.

You whispered it back after a moment, feeling yourself follow him off to sleep, “Yours.”

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Two Negatives Make A Positive

Ellie Williams x Reader

SMUT W NOOOOOO PLOT WHATSOEVER

Warning: Sex: strap on (r! receiving), oral (e! receiving)

A/N: Wrote this in an hour, I had to post for u guys 😘 I proofread like a 100 times so if u see a grammar/spelling mistake ignore it.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“Oh god— oh my.. fucking god..” You breathed out, head tilted to the side as your body recoiled from the power of Ellie’s penetration. You were taking her strap and it was slamming into every area that make you moan and whimper. Laid onto the couch with your legs spread and on her shoulders, you were sweating. Your girlfriend was on her knees with her strap tightened around her hips. She showed no mercy, looking down at you with her lidded, green eyes and parted lips; in which she huffed out of.

Each thrust felt had your mind going hazy with pleasure and lust. It was the sight of your girlfriend that had you cumming like crazy, had you drenched. She looked deliciously beautiful. Her bare skin was distracting as you stared at every curve on her body. Her breasts, especially her breasts, waist, hips, collarbone, freckled chest, and her veiny hands, that were gripping on your thighs, the look of it all had you weak in the knees. She looked so damn hot that you could barely comprehend how lucky you’d gotten. What could you have done to deserve Ellie? Was your thought.

“You’re so.. damn gorgeous,” “Moan my name, jus’ like that, Baby.” She’d grunt out every few thrusts, admiring you, her pretty girlfriend. Every lewd noise that left your lips, every flutter of your eyes, even every squirm of your hips was appreciated by Ellie. Which was evident in the way her her core was throbbing. It was aching for you, craving your mouth. But waiting would only make the feeling of your tongue on her clit worth it. It was a privilege to see you like this, for she was the only who could.

“You gonna cum for me, love?” Her hips moved her cock in and out, pressing against your walls and causing you to bite back a cry of overwhelming enjoyment. “Yeah, cum for me, cutie..” Ellie cheekily grinned out, pressing her fingers onto your thighs and gripping hard. You couldn’t last with her telling you to give yourself up to her, so with your hands on your face you let the orgasm hit.

Mind going numb and fuzzy, your body writhed against your girlfriend’s cock; which was dug realll deep into you. Ellie shifted to grasp onto your hands and pin them overtop your head, fingers coming to intertwine with yours and expose your flushed cheeks. “I love seeing you cum..” She whispered out. Seeing you disheveled and worn was a sight for sore eyes, it was one she’d forever cherish. Pressing hot, open mouthed kisses on your neck, she spoiled you with affection. Which, of course, made you whimper. It seemed like every small touch left you in a daze of pleasure, even the feel of her body pressed against yours aroused you. You could die here, loving the way Ellie loved you.

Coming down from your orgasm, you pant for air before pressing your nose onto your girlfriend’s heated shoulder. Breathing in her woody scent. “Precious little thing..” Her voice barely audible, she wrapped her arm around your waist and brought you up into a sitting position. Legs on either side of you, Ellie smiled into your hair. Smelling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “That was.. really good. Perfect..” Your praise left your girlfriend to flush and smile, hugging you and kissing your shoulder again.

“C’mon.. lay down..” You told her, taking a deep breath before letting Ellie do as you said. Her hands on the back of her head, elevating it, as she laid on the couch with her legs spread and ready. She had this silent charm that always seemed to pull you closer. So much so that you couldn’t keep yourself from delving into her pulsing cunt. She was craving you as much as you did her.

A hand coming to brush back your hair, she watched as you pressed loving kisses on the inside of her spread thighs. Taking your sweet time to reach where she most needed you, your eyes locked hers. The air held a palpable excitement, both of you waiting for one another. Ellie waiting on your mouth, you waiting to hear her moans.

Without wasting another second, you run your tongue over her soaked pussy. Sucking on her clit with your lips wrapped around it, you watched as Ellie’s head dropped back. Her neck strained as she was clearly holding back her noises. You wanted to hear every sweet sound that she had to offer. A slap on her thigh, you furrow your brows. “I wanna hear you, El.” And, as usual, your girlfriend gave you what you wanted. Soft whines and whimpers fled from her moistened lips. “Yeah.. yeah—fuckkk.. just like that..” She’d whimper out, gripping your hair in order to keep herself grounded. “Oh my— shit, your mouth is so.. fucking good..”

Eyes closed, mouth open, and chest rising and falling with every heavy breath she took, Ellie looked amazing. You couldn’t keep your eyes away from her, not even for a short second. As your mouth continued working on her cunt, sucking and licking off her cum, your girlfriend’s heavenly noises were filling up the room. “Please, fuck I cant.. Babyy, I.. I’m cumming..” With that soft whines, cum she did, faster than ever, her body completely surrendered to her orgasm. Hips shuddering, head and eyes rolled back, teeth sunk into her lips as she clenched onto the couch with one hand and your hair another.

Ellie was fast when it came to cumming. Unable to last long with the way your experienced mouth moved. Coming down from her release, she took heavy breaths. “That was amazing, my god..” She grinned out, motioning a hand and telling you to come closer. When you did, she immediately pressed her lips against yours and captured them into the sweetest kiss in the wholeee entire world.

With slow and tantalizing pecks, she slid her tongue in with your permission and completely got lost in the sensation. She was desperate when it came to you, needing you to take care of her ‘till she was senseless. Furrowed brows, closed eyes, and heavy breathing, the two of you basically canceled each other out.

There was no top, no bottom in the relationship. Not when both of you made each other weak.

[buckyseternaldoll]

Dead-End Heat

Pairing: John Walker x fem!Reader

Summary: After his divorce, John Walker hides out at the end of a dead-end road — quiet, wrecked, and alone. Until his new neighbor starts dancing naked by the window. And he stops pretending he’s not watching.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v, masturbation (f + m), voyeurism, dry humping, fingering, oral sex (m giving), breast play, age gap (both adults), ovulation kink, creampie mention (pull-out), size kink, emotional damage (m), light dom/sub undertones, aftercare, strong language

Word Count: 4.7k

Author's Note: My first John Walker's fic because I've been spiraling down for him lately. Never really hated his character, and there's just something in him that held a grip on my heart. This might be the only time I wrote for him as my focus would still be mainly on Bucky. Hope you'll enjoy this!

The house was smaller than anything he’d ever lived in.

It sat at the end of a forgotten road—a gravel path that wound past empty fields and thinning trees, eventually dead-ending at a pair of sagging homes no one seemed to care about. His was the worse of the two. Crooked porch steps. Peeling siding. A roof that slanted wrong and windows clouded with time. The place looked like it had been stitched together by someone who ran out of energy halfway through the job—and then abandoned it altogether.

It was perfect.

John dropped his single duffel by the door and kicked it shut behind him. The air inside hit him like a memory—musty, humid, heavy with the scent of rot in the walls and the ghosts of strangers before him. The couch leaned sideways. The bed was just a bare mattress on the floor, no frame. The fan above him wheezed like it had asthma. A fridge buzzed like it was trying to die.

No pictures. No clutter. No reminders of what he lost.

No Lamar.

No Olivia.

No son’s drawings pinned to the fridge.

Just silence.

Which was the whole damn point.

The divorce papers had come through three days ago—a final blow that felt both slow and sharp. Olivia hadn’t cried. She just signed the line, eyes tired, like something inside her had already been buried. And he didn’t blame her. Not after all he’d brought home with him. The nights he came back colder. Angrier. Quieter. After Lamar died, something in John stopped working right. He didn’t know how to talk to her. Didn’t know how to father a kid with grief sitting in his lungs like concrete.

He took the deal. Let her have the house. The car. Most of the furniture. All he asked was to be left alone.

So when he found the listing—cheap rent, secluded property, no neighbors but one—he said yes before seeing a photo.

The landlord had handed him the keys with a crooked smile and a half-assed warning.

“Only neighbor’s a college girl,” she said. “Lives right next door. Early twenties, I think. You probably won’t even notice her.”

He hadn’t cared. He didn’t want noise. Didn’t want company. He wanted a place that wouldn’t expect anything from him.

And for the first few nights, that’s what he got.

Just darkness. Sweat-soaked sleep. Bottled beer. The occasional nightmare that still left his fists clenched in the sheets.

Until the window started glowing.

—

It started with light.

Her bedroom—your bedroom—glowed gold in the dark like it had a soul of its own. Just across the strip of grass separating the houses, the second floor window lit up every night, soft and warm and too alive. His own bedroom faced yours directly—a cruel kind of proximity. Close enough to see the shape of you if he didn’t shut the blinds. And for a while, he did. Shut them. Or turned his back. Or went downstairs before it got bad.

But it kept happening.

And one night, curiosity won.

He looked.

And froze.

You were perched right there on your windowsill—legs tucked up, body backlit like something out of a dream. A tank top clung to your skin, rucked up just enough to bare the curve beneath your breast. Your thighs were spread. One hand braced the window frame behind you. The other slipped between your legs—bold and unhurried, fingers glinting in the light as you touched yourself like no one was watching.

Like you didn’t care if someone was.

You moved slow. Like this was ritual. Like this was how you soothed yourself to sleep.

John’s mouth went dry. His body stiffened.

He should’ve looked away.

He didn’t.

Because the longer he watched, the more the guilt tangled with something hotter. Needier. His hand drifted down before he could stop it—shame curling in his chest like smoke as he unzipped his jeans and wrapped his hand around himself.

He stroked slow. Matched your rhythm. Imagined how you’d sound if the window wasn’t in the way.

Then your head turned.

Your gaze lifted.

Eyes met his through glass.

He froze.

You didn’t.

If anything—you moved slower. Smiled faintly. Tilted your hips so he could really see what your fingers were doing.

His breath hitched. His fist tightened. His heart slammed so loud he was sure you could hear it through the pane.

And when he came—knuckles white, lip bloodied from biting it too hard—it was with a strangled moan, your image burned behind his eyes.

After that, it wasn’t just light in the window anymore.

It was you.

Naked sometimes. Singing. Dancing. Laughing like no one could hear you. And almost every night, you touched yourself right there at the sill—head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth parted like a prayer.

You never pulled the curtain.

And he never shut the blinds.

Because part of you wanted to be seen.

And part of him needed to see it.

—

It started happening more often.

At first, it was once every few days—a shadow lingering behind the blinds, a pause in the dark that matched the rhythm of your movements. Then it became nightly.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what he was doing.

The sliver of his window was always the same. Light off. Curtains drawn halfway. Just enough space for you to catch the subtle shape of him—a figure standing near the glass, barely moving. Until he did.

A slight twitch of the shoulder. The familiar arc of a flexing forearm.

Jerking off.

At first, you’d pretended not to notice. But you felt it—the heat that crawled up your spine, the rush that flushed your skin. Your pulse didn’t lie.

And over time… neither did your body.

You started performing.

Lingerie that didn’t hide anything. Positions that bent you right over, back arched, ass pointed toward the open window like a silent dare. You knew the thin fabric of your panties barely did a damn thing—knew he could see the outline of your pussy when you stood in the light.

Once, you heard him.

A low grunt, barely audible over the hum of the fan. But it made you freeze. Made your thighs press together.

He was watching.

He wanted.

And that alone made you drip.

But tonight? Something inside you snapped.

Your body ached. Breasts tender and swollen, nipples too sensitive against your shirt. Your thighs stayed slick no matter how many times you changed. You couldn’t stop shifting. Couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand would feel instead of your own.

You were ovulating, and every inch of you wanted to be touched. Ruined. Filled.

So the devil on your shoulder whispered something wild—and for once, you listened.

You changed clothes. On purpose.

Pale yellow cropped tank—almost sheer in the right light. No bra. The peaks of your nipples pressed bold against the fabric. Then: a pair of loose, thin white shorts that barely covered your ass. No panties. Because you weren’t planning on keeping them on.

You were stupidly horny, and stupidly bold.

So you walked across the narrow patch of grass, let your bare feet touch the cool porch, and reached for his doorbell.

It didn’t ring.

Figures. Of course he hadn’t fixed it.

You knocked instead—quick, but firm enough to be heard.

There was a long pause.

Then the door opened.

John Walker stood there—tall, disheveled, shirt wrinkled like it’d been on the floor before he put it on. A dark olive tee, sleeves pushed tight over the swell of his arms. Just boxers on his lower half—black, hugging his hips low enough that you caught the trail of hair beneath his navel.

His hair was messy. Beard uneven. And a half-crushed beer can dangled from his fingers.

“Uh…” You cleared your throat, letting your eyes drift up to his. “Power’s out at my place.”

You forced a half-smile, something soft. Sweet.

“Too dark to study alone.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat. Just stared at you—eyes flicking down, lingering too long on your chest before he caught himself and looked away.

You waited.

He hesitated. You could see the inner war behind his eyes. But he wasn’t just a man anymore—he was a father, even if his own family was gone. And he knew what your dad would’ve done. Knew what his younger self would’ve wanted for his daughter.

So he stepped back.

Wordless.

And let you in.

The place was dim—just one sad lamp casting a pool of yellow light near the couch. The air smelled like old beer and sweat. You took it in with a breath, then made your way to the sagging two-seater sofa. The cushion dipped under your weight.

John dragged a chair from the kitchen—a stiff wooden dining chair—and planted it in the corner of the room, diagonally across from you. He sat, forearms braced on his thighs, one hand still holding the beer. His eyes flicked up, then away.

You crossed your legs on the couch—slowly, deliberately.

You didn’t miss how his gaze dropped for half a second before snapping back to the floor.

He could see everything. You knew it. Your loose shorts had ridden up just enough that the slick heat between your thighs was on full display. Bare pussy, just… there. No effort to hide it.

But he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t even shift in his seat.

So you broke the silence with something light.

“You never told me your name.”

Still, he didn’t look up. But his voice was low. Rough.

“John.”

You smiled, even though he didn’t see it.

“John,” you repeated softly. “Strong name.”

You leaned back, resting one arm against the back of the couch, your legs still crossed—the movement subtly tugging your shorts even higher.

“And you curious about mine?”

He didn’t answer. But his jaw flexed.

“My name?” You let the moment hang, then offered it up smooth, short. “There. Now we’re not strangers.”

He nodded once. Grunted.

You tilted your head.

“What do you do, John?”

“Used to be military.”

“And now?”

“Contract work.”

You hummed. “Private sector?”

“Something like that.”

You smiled again, watching how he kept avoiding your gaze—like he didn’t want to fall into the trap you were laying.

But he already had.

He was here.

Watching.

Gripping his beer too tightly.

And you were already wet again.

You uncrossed your legs slowly, let your knees fall open—wide enough to make his breath hitch even if he didn’t mean it to. He still didn’t look, but you saw the way his knuckles turned white on the can.

And for the first time since you sat down, he shifted in his seat.

Yeah.

You had him.

And you weren’t done yet.

—

You finally dropped the bomb.

“I know you’ve been watching me.”

His shoulders stiffened. But he didn’t move from the chair. Didn’t speak.

You caught the flicker in his jaw—the way his beard shifted just slightly as his teeth ground together.

He didn’t look at you.

Didn’t need to.

You saw the shame before he even opened his mouth.

“I wasn’t—” he started, then stopped himself. His fingers curled around the armrest. “I didn’t mean to.”

You tilted your head. Waited.

“I saw you once. Thought I’d look away. Didn’t.”

He dragged a hand down his face, sighing through clenched teeth.

“It was wrong. I know that. I know better. You’re just a kid. I shouldn’t even be—fuck.” He glanced to the side, away from the soft light between you. “I’m not in the right headspace. I haven’t been in a long time.”

You shifted your position.

Still, he didn’t budge.

“I’m not asking for pity,” he muttered. “Divorce just got finalized. I got no wife. No son. My best friend’s six feet under. I’m sitting here drinking cheap beer in a damn chair from a Craigslist ad. I’m not the man you think I am.”

“I don’t care,” you said gently.

“I just want to be touched.”

His gaze snapped to yours. Sharp. Almost dangerous.

“My chest hurts,” you whispered. “They’re sore. They need hands that aren’t mine. They need you.”

You stood up from the couch, bare feet soft against the hardwood, the hem of your loose shorts fluttering as you moved. Each step was slow. Measured. A test he kept failing to stop.

You stopped right in front of him.

John’s knees were spread, bracing his wide frame, elbows on thighs like he couldn’t decide whether to stand or vanish. You noticed the way his jaw ticked—tension flaring under his beard.

You reached for his right hand with your left, slow and deliberate.

He didn’t resist.

Your fingers slid over his, lifting it, guiding it up.

You paused when his fingertips brushed your thin tank—the contact featherlight, grazing the peak of your erect nipple through the fabric.

You let out a soft sound—half breath, half moan.

“I’ve only wanted you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Only imagined your hands when I touched myself.”

His jaw clenched again. His whole body still as stone.

You moved between his thighs, closing the distance entirely.

Your right hand dragged the hem of your tank upward, just until the lower swell of your breast was visible—flushed, taut, begging for contact.

Then you brought his hand there again.

Not just hovering.

Pressed it firmly into place, just beneath the curve.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered. His voice was hoarse. Defeated. “You’ll wake up tomorrow and wish it wasn’t me.”

“I won’t.”

He looked up then. Finally. Eyes bloodshot. Unreadable.

He shook his head once—slow—but didn’t pull away.

Didn’t move.

Just… sighed.

And then his hand shifted.

Slipped higher.

And cupped your breast fully.

A moan slipped from your lips as his calloused palm settled over the soft heat of you—a gentle squeeze that made your knees tremble.

Your tank lifted fully now, exposing your chest to the room, to him.

He groaned—low, deep, from somewhere buried.

You ducked slightly, bending to let him in, and he leaned forward instinctively—face pressing between your breasts like a man who’d been starving and finally found water.

He breathed deep, nose brushing your skin, and you felt the quiet hitch in his breath.

“You smell like fucking heaven,” he rasped.

He didn’t kiss.

Didn’t bite.

Just buried himself in your skin like he could live there forever.

And when he finally looked up—eyes burning, breath shaky—his voice was barely more than gravel.

“You want this?”

His hands were still on your chest. Thumbs circling, gentle now. Reverent.

“Because if I keep going, I ain’t stopping. Not this time.”

Your response came without hesitation.

“I want you, John. All of you.”

—

His hand didn’t leave your breast. It only squeezed once more—firmer this time—before sliding up to cup the other, thumbs brushing across your nipples with that roughness that had your breath catching. You leaned forward more.

John’s fingers gripped your jaw gently—tugging you downward until your mouth met his.

The kiss was urgent, not rushed—all breath and heat and hunger. Like he’d been waiting years to taste you. His lips parted yours with soft, wet pressure, tongue licking slow, deliberate passes like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth from the inside out.

You moaned into him, hips shifting. Your knees dragged up against his thighs as you straddled him fully, sinking onto his lap again. The chair creaked beneath the weight of both your bodies.

His cock throbbed beneath you—hard and hot, separated from your soaked folds by just the thin fabric of his boxers and your loose shorts. You could feel everything—every vein, every twitch, every pulse—as you rocked lightly on him.

Both of his hands returned to your chest, greedy now. Palms warm and broad, squeezing your breasts with a kind of reverence that made your head spin.

When you finally broke the kiss, panting, his left hand trailed lower. Skimmed your ribs, your side, then slid behind you—gripping your ass before slipping inside the waistband of your shorts.

His fingers met bare skin.

His groan rumbled right against your collarbone. “Fucking knew it,” he muttered hoarsely. “Knew you weren’t wearing anything.” His mouth brushed your neck. “Could see it, y’know.”

You tilted your head, breath shaky. “See what?”

“Your slick. Back at the door. It was running down your thighs.”

A soft, desperate sound escaped your throat. You pressed your face into the side of his neck, nuzzling into the scruff just beneath his jaw. Then your teeth caught the curve of his nape—not hard enough to leave marks, just enough to make him jolt beneath you.

You started to grind. Slow, aching circles of your hips that dragged your folds along the length of his cock through both of your clothes.

“You ever think about this?” you murmured against his ear. “Me. On you. Moving like this.”

He groaned. “More than I should’ve.”

You kissed just under his ear—then blew out a warm breath, letting it fan over the shell of it. His grip on your ass tightened like he couldn’t help it.

“Ever since I saw you jerking off while watching me,” you whispered, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Could only come when I imagined I was riding you.”

His breath hitched. His right hand slipped from your chest and came around to the front—sliding into your shorts, fingers dragging through your slick folds. You were soaked. Pulsing. His fingertips grazed your clit and you cried out softly, hips jerking in his lap.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “You’re soaked. So goddamn sensitive.”

You shifted your hips—just slightly—to give him more access. His middle finger pushed in slow, your walls clenching down hard like your body had been waiting for this. You moaned, eyes fluttering.

He pulled halfway out, then pushed in again—watching your face twist in pleasure, watching your mouth fall open. The wet sounds of your cunt wrapped around his finger made him swear again.

“Fuuuck.”

You blew out a soft stream of air across his ear again—lips brushing it this time. “Want more,” you whispered. “Please, John.”

He stilled. Even with your cunt dripping around his hand, he still paused. Still tried to pull back.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice low and guttural. “You want this? ‘Cause I ain’t got the goddamn conscience to stop once I start.”

Your head dropped, lips grazing his jaw. “I’m sure.”

His mouth parted—a breath shuddering through his teeth—and he slid a second finger in.

The stretch was tighter. Deeper. Your body sucked him in with a squelch that made his hips jerk reflexively beneath you.

“Fuck me,” he groaned again, head tilting back, eyes dark and wild.

Your cunt clenched around his fingers like it never wanted to let him go.

And his lips found your collarbone again, dragging open-mouthed kisses along your skin like he was about to lose his mind.

—

John couldn’t take it anymore.

Your walls clenched greedily around his fingers, your hips bucking helplessly with every pump. It wasn’t enough—not for him. Not with the way your body begged, not with the way your moans cracked open something he hadn’t felt in years.

He stood up suddenly, lifting you with both hands, fingers digging into your thighs. You gasped, arms looping tightly around his shoulders as your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. His cock was still sheathed inside you, thick and twitching, as he carried you out of the living room.

The hallway was dim—the only light came from the cracked door of the bedroom. When he pushed it open with his shoulder, you finally got a glimpse inside.

It was barely lived-in.

A king-sized mattress sat low on the floor, sheets rumpled and mismatched. A fan spun overhead, clinking slightly with every rotation. A dresser stood against the wall, untouched. No photos. No signs of life. Just another space he refused to make a home.

John dropped you onto the mattress like you were something precious and cursed all at once. His eyes devoured you as he stepped back, hands yanking his shirt off with a single pull. His boxer briefs hit the floor next, his cock flushed, hard, still slick with your arousal.

You followed suit—first peeling your tank top up and over your head, letting it drop carelessly beside the bed. Then you slid your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and pushed them down, inch by inch, baring your hips, your thighs, your soaked center—nothing underneath. They hit the floor in a soft rustle. Then you climbed onto the mattress and lay back, legs parted, hair splayed across the pillows like you were meant to be there. Like you’d always belonged in this room. In this bed. In him.

He climbed back on top of you, heavy and hot, mouth finding yours again—slower now, deep and possessive. But you were impatient. Aching.

You reached between your bodies, guiding his cock to your entrance, and pushed him in.

John groaned—low, guttural—as your heat swallowed him whole again.

“So tight,” he gritted, hands bracing on either side of your head as he began to move. “Like fucking heaven.”

You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Do I taste better in real life?” you whispered, voice breathless. “Or did you like the version you imagined better?”

He stilled—just for a second—then surged deeper.

“You now,” he growled. “Nothing compares. Nothing ever fucking will.”

He moved hard now, hips snapping into yours with desperation, with hunger, chasing something he knew he shouldn’t want this badly. You moaned, one leg hitching higher around his waist, urging him deeper.

But then—he pulled out.

You gasped at the sudden emptiness. Your cunt fluttered in protest.

He stood, breath ragged, chest rising and falling with each tremor of restraint.

“I want you,” you said again, sitting up slowly. “I want you to come inside.”

John shook his head, jaw tight.

“Been a husband long enough to know the pill ain’t perfect,” he muttered. “Not taking that risk.”

Before you could argue, he crawled back onto the bed and grabbed your hips—guiding you flat against the sheets again.

“I want you to come first.”

He buried his face between your thighs before you could even speak—tongue flattening against your slick folds, groaning at the taste. He licked like a man dying of thirst. Deep strokes. Slow sucks. His beard scratched your skin raw, but you didn’t care. You were shaking again, already too close.

When his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked—hard—you came with a cry that echoed through the empty house. Your back arched. Your hands flew to his hair. You trembled under him, again.

He didn’t stop until your thighs stopped twitching.

Then—finally—he pulled himself up, kissed the inside of your knee, and reached for the towel slung over a nearby chair. He cleaned you up gently, not saying a word, just watching the way your chest rose and fell.

Then he handed you a shirt. His.

“Wear this,” he said roughly. “S’night’s cold. And those shorts ain’t worth shit.”

You pulled it on without protest. It smelled like him.

But you weren’t done.

“Another round?” you asked, soft, hopeful.

His hand stopped mid-wipe on your belly.

“No,” he said, voice firmer now. “We’re not doing this again tonight.”

You blinked. Hurt flared—but he wasn’t angry.

“I can’t—can’t use you to fill something that’s already gone,” he said, voice thick. “And I need to know you’re not just doing this ‘cause you’re burning up and I was close. I need to know you want me. Not just the idea of me.”

You didn’t argue. Just nodded slowly and slipped out of bed. The shirt hung to your thighs.

John didn’t walk you to the door. He just watched you leave from the bed, unreadable.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Your skin still tingled, your body still ached. Your cunt throbbed with the ghost of him. But you didn’t hear from him again.

And the next morning, when the sunlight spilled into your bedroom, you glanced toward his window.

The blinds were gone.

Blackout curtains now hung in their place—drawn tight.

Sealed.

Silent.

Like he was never there at all.

—

✦ [JOHN WALKER POV]

He sat at the edge of the bed.

Back curved. Elbows on his knees. Head low.

Hands calloused, rough—still damp from washing off your slick.

The water had gone cold. He didn’t care. He’d scrubbed his hands raw, but the ghost of you clung to him like heat. The scent of you lived in the air now—sweet, heady, sinful. It clung to his sheets. His chest. His fucking soul.

He could still see the way your thighs had trembled. Still feel the weight of you clenching around him. Still hear your voice—John, please, like it meant something. Like he meant something.

He raked both hands down his face, breath shallow.

“You don’t rebuild your life like this, man.”

The words came out hoarse.

Lamar might’ve said it once.

Or maybe it was Olivia’s voice, tucked into some fractured corner of his brain—one of the last pieces that hadn’t rotted out.

There was a photo of her, buried under old insurance papers in the nightstand. He hadn’t looked at it in weeks. Couldn’t. Not since the divorce was finalized. Not since the house grew too quiet for even ghosts to haunt.

His son’s crayon sketch was folded inside his wallet. He still checked for it sometimes. Just to see if it was real. If any of that life had ever been real.

They were gone.

But you?

You were right next door.

A few steps away. A breath. A heartbeat.

Real.

Too real.

And fuck—he didn’t know if that made you a mistake or a second chance.

He’d wanted you for weeks. Wanted you before he even admitted it. When you danced in the window. When your laughter spilled through his walls. When you touched yourself like you didn’t care who saw—and like maybe you wanted him to.

But tonight hadn’t been some fantasy.

You were warm in his arms. Wet on his fingers. Tight around his cock.

And for a second—a fucking second—it felt like a religion.

Like worship.

Like finding something sacred in the way your body opened for him. The way you gasped his name. The way you tasted—sweet and desperate, like you’d been made just for his mouth.

He wanted to believe it meant something. That you meant something. Not just a fix for the hollow ache in his chest.

So he didn’t drink. Didn’t run. Didn’t chase the next high.

He just sat there. In the dark. Breathing. Remembering.

He’d give himself a few days.

Time to think.

Time to feel every fucking consequence.

But he already knew the truth—

You were in his blood now.

And nothing was ever gonna wash you out.

[END OF POV] ✦

—

It’d been five days.

Five torturous, hollow days.

Since that night.

Since John touched you like he needed you to breathe. Since he kissed you like it was the first time he’d tasted salvation. Since he buried himself deep and said your name like it meant something.

You hadn’t seen him since.

The blackout curtains in his bedroom stayed drawn. Always closed. Even on the nights when your windows were lit, your skin bare, your body aching for attention—for his attention. Not once did he pull them aside. Not even a flicker of movement behind the fabric.

And maybe that was your answer.

Maybe it had been a one-time thing.

A mistake, no matter how good it felt.

No matter how much your body still throbbed remembering the way his cock filled you, twitched inside you as he spilled across your belly.

You tried to keep busy. You tried.

But everything felt muted. Boring. Lifeless.

The only thing that ever made your pulse race anymore was the memory of his hands. His voice. That broken, desperate moan when you clenched around him.

By the fifth night, you stopped looking at his window.

Stopped expecting.

Started to convince yourself it was better this way.

But then—

A knock.

Quick.

Sharp.

Three beats.

Your breath caught.

You weren’t expecting anyone.

Not tonight. Not ever.

You moved to the door on shaky legs, barely able to hide the way your fingers trembled on the knob.

And there he was.

John Walker.

Still looking disheveled. Still rough around the edges. Still looking at you like you were the thing he shouldn’t want—but couldn’t walk away from.

He offered the faintest smile. A little crooked.

A little dangerous.

“Ready for the next round?” he asked, voice low.

You blinked—then smiled wide, too quickly, too joyfully to play it cool.

You nodded, heart hammering.

And you stepped aside to let him in.

honorary mention; @iamthatonefangirl 💜

[kabr0ztrousers]

An big gentle dom orc doing anal for the first time with his shy girlfriend? (She’s the one receiving the anal)

Also, your work is incredible!! Take care🫶

Kabr0z Writes Episode 133: Backdoor Shenannigans

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here! including the other two times we've seen Oreg the Orc!

Here's the Ao3 series!

CWs: Oral sex; anal sex; alcohol use; returning characters; enthusiastic consent; size difference; age gap

A/N: Now I'm having to do some homework to figure out if these two have done it up the ass before. By remarkable happenstance, they hadn't, so we get to do that today 😁

#####################################

Dawn light spilled through the fine curtains covering your bedchamber windows. You rolled lazily in the bed, knowing Oreg would already be up and in his chapel, as he so often was. You've been married about a year and a half now, ever since the village, and today was his birthday. As usual, you'd bought him some necessities you knew he wouldn't have bothered getting himself until he'd already been in dire need of them for a month, as well as arranging for his favourite meals to be prepared by the kitchen staff. He's all to happy to spend money on you, but when it came to indulging his own wants, he was practically an ascetic. Years of knightly oaths and cloistered upbringing are hard to shake, even for a noble.

You were giving him another gift, too. Prepared entirely without his knowledge. You weren't even sure he'd go for it, but he was an orc underneath all the piety and nobility, and if you knew anything, you knew orcs. You wrote him a letter, to be presented to him as he took his breakfast, which would be soon. In it you asked him to put aside his good manners. For the day you were his to do with as he pleased, not as Duke and Duchess, but as an Orc chieftain, and his favourite prize. In truth, this was as much a gift to you as it was to him, but he always did need a little convincing to come out of his shell and take what you both knew he wanted. You smiled to yourself, who knows? Maybe this'll be the thing that finally tips him over to being the stereotypical permanently-horny orc you'd always expected you'd marry.

You could hear him moving through the house. Heavy footsteps thumping through the downstairs corridors. As predictable as any clock, he would've seen the dawn light through the window and finished up, walking across the main hall to his office where he'd go through any important documents and await the mail whilst he ate breakfast. The staff were very happy to inform you how some years he'd entirely forget it was his birthday unless someone reminded him, even then he'd normally just shrug and get back to it. Again, practically an ascetic when it came to treating himself.

Today was different. Ordinarily, you'd just roll back over and go to sleep for another hour or so before your chambermaid woke you to attend to something or other while Oreg worked in relative silence keeping the duchy in order and planning whatever public works he wanted to channel funding to next. Instead you heard his footsteps again, thumping down the hall and on the stairs, presumably he'd seen your gifts and realised what day it is.

Sure enough, he stepped into your room, only now trying to soften his footsteps. In his arms were the new belt and cloak you'd given him, and the unopened letter you'd written.

"Naughty, you were meant to have read that already" You smiled blearily at him, propping yourself up by your elbow "Go on then, open it up"

Oreg's huge fingers pulled on the ribbon running through the wax seal, cracking it and unfolding the letter. For all his attempts at being the perfect steward, and a certain mathematical gift, he was never the fastest at reading the common tongue, preferring to write in Elfish or Orcish when he had to. Unfortunately, literacy was never a priority when you were growing up so while you spoke Orcish, you couldn't read or write in the language. You followed his eyes as he slowly scanned the paper, going over some parts twice, furrowing his brow in places, before placing it down on the bed

"Sweetheart, did you write this?"

Your heart dropped, you'd upset him. "I'm sorry, darling, I thought you'd like it"

He grinned "Of course I like it, I just wished that if you wanted me to be like that, you'd have said something" He sat on the bed, the mattress squashing under the weight of his immense bulk. He cradled your face with one of his hands, so large your whole head fit into his palm.

"I do want you to be like that, but I also like you as you are. It's tough" you nuzzled into his hand, your own small hand against the back of his, holding it in place as he leant over and kissed your forehead

"So, what would you like right now?"

You looked at the letter, then back to him. His big brown eyes followed your gaze and he smiled warmly, his filed tusks peeking up from his lower lip, greenish-grey skin darkening with a blush.

He drew you close to him, your head against his chest, hearing the bass drum of his heartbeat as it sped up. You rested a hand against him, laying it on his barrel chest. His breath sped up as he held you in one rigid arm. You giggled, considering how bold he was the first time you'd met him, he gets so bashful when it comes to him taking charge sometimes.

Wait a second, maybe that was it. "One moment, dear, I've just had an idea"

His hand released you and you raced out of the door, sprinting in your slip and precious little else towards the pantry. You found what you were looking for, picking it up carefully and walking with measured steps to your bedroom. Oreg was in the bed when you got back, his tunic and trousers in a pile on the floor, the letter carefully laid on top. He looked over to you and raised an eyebrow "Wine? This early in the morning?"

You opened the bottle and stepped onto the bed "Last time you really took charge, you were drinking with Mazorn. Let's see if it was the booze or the company that did the trick" You held the bottle up to him and he took it in one great hand, taking two great gulps, almost draining the bottle before offering the last mouthfuls to you. The wine was strong and dark, warming you from within. Only a couple of mouthfuls made you giggly, and he'd had far more than that.

He rolled his head, stretching out the muscles of his neck before draining the last dregs of the bottle. You watched as the alcohol reached his head, the timidness brought on by years of temple education and chivalric training melting away. His gaze became hungry, his eyes slipping from yours, lingering on your tits, your waist, your legs. You sat on the bed, stroking the mornings stubble, rough against your hand. You laid your other arm across you, tits squeezed between your biceps in a practiced motion you'd had work on dozens of young orcs in the past. "Like what you see?" you mock-pouted, drawing in close to your lover, draping yourself across him.

Oreg sat up slightly, stroking the side of your face, his gaze softening a moment before his hand slipped around the back of your head and his grip tightened. He guided your head under the blanket to his crotch. You could already smell him, thick musk emanating from his balls as he guided you down. You repositioned yourself, pointing your bare arse and pussy at him while you lay on his belly, face to face with his cock. You felt his fingers at your entrance, stroking your lips as he got hard in front of you. You bit your lip, his rough hands tantalising you, riling you up for what is to come.

You gave the tip of his cock a kiss, then a lick, teasing the tip as you watched it throb and grow in front of you. You could feel yourself starting to drip with arousal as you huffed his smell, kissing and fondling his cock.

"You're a real slut when you get going, aren't you?" Oreg's chuckle was deep and heavy, almost a purr.

You lifted your hips, opening yourself up to him "Only for you"

His hand pressed down on your head, forcing himself into your mouth. You opened as wide as you could, but you could still feel him struggling to stuff himself into you. You gagged on him, even as you whined at his fingers exploring your slit. Your whines turned to a satisfied groan as the finger sank into you.

He knew you, every fold, every corner. His finger twisted inside you. Your muffled groan told him he'd found what he wanted. The finger crooked. Your hips lifted higher. He was still fucking himself with your throat, even as he pressed against your spot. Your eyes rolled as he used you, twitching and groaning, a thick finger in your cunt, a thicker cock punishing your throat. You felt yourself getting hotter, sweat beading on your skin as your legs shook and kicked. Pressure built in your loins, pressing against you as you got closer to the edge

"Let go, sweetheart. Let go for me"

His voice, soft and deep. Gentle and commanding. You came hard, tears welling as his cock stifled sobs. You sprayed over him, the pressure releasing in a jet of hot relief.

He pulled out of your throat, leaving you gasping over his cock, still kissing the tip as it twitched and jumped in front of you. He manhandled you to the pillow, holding you down with one hand placed on your back while two fingers still slick with your juices slid into your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting yourself on his skin as he slapped your ass with his slick cock

"How far am I allowed to go?"

You whined, too blissed out to form words. He chuckled again, shifting his weight to pin you down, leaning over you "Tell me if it's too much"

The head of his cock slid between your asscheeks, pressing against your hole. You looked back at your husband, caught somewhere between the desire not to hurt you, and the deep, primal need to stuff himself inside.

You met his eyes. He was waiting for you. You gave the nod.

You gasped as his tip entered you. It didn't hurt as much as you expected, but the size of it stretching you out made your eyes water even more than before. You groaned as he picked up speed, the pain fading as your sphincter relaxed around the thick orcish cock pounding it. You could feel him filling you up, his thickness stretching you out. You lifted up into him, enjoying the sensation of fullness. Your hand strayed underneath you, brushing your clit as his cock thumped into you.

Your next orgasm came quicker than the last. Your fingers circled your clit, rubbing in time with your husband fucking your ass. The familiar twitching and whining, then the whole-body clenching. You felt yourself tighten around him, willing him into you with every fibre of your being. Your hand left your twitching, drooling cunt and gripped his oversized balls, holding him in as you groaned with relief. You could hear his breathing speeding up. You rolled his balls in your palm, feeling the weight of them as they slowly climbed towards his abdomen.

"Cum in me" you groaned to your lover as he throbbed inside you "Give it to me"

Oreg roared. The roar of an orc chief claiming his prize. You felt his balls twitch. Once, twice, thrice they pumped before his cum came flooding into you. It was a river of hot, sticky reward. You sighed as it filled you, flowing through you, warming you from within. He always gave you a lot, and today was no exception. Wave after wave, pump after pump, he filled you up. You could feel it flowing out of you, dripping onto your cunt, mingling with your juices and squirt, slicking your hand with cum.

It felt like forever before he pulled out. You were just on the verge of falling asleep again, surrounded by his warmth. Cum leaked from your gaping ass, flowing out of you and into a puddle on the bed.

Someone's going to have to clean that up

#####################################

You know when you're sure you posted something last night, and it doesn't appear in the morning?

Yeah. Tumblr sucks ass sometimes

[harmonyrae]

Ethical Dilemma

Synopsis: He needs a better grade on his Business Ethics paper and you're the only one who can give it to him. But it looks like a better grade isn't all he's after.

AN: I’ve been seeing a lot of Professor AUs with the boys, and then, all of a sudden, at 1:48 AM on a Thursday, I thought “What about them as students?” and IMMEDIATELY STARTED WRITING. Anyways, here’s Student!Sylus x Teachers Assistant!Reader - they're both college aged, btw. Let me know if you want one of these for all the boys! 

Content Warnings: explicit language & sexual descriptions, Sylus talks you through it, Troublemaker!Sylus, Downbad!Sylus, Oral (f receiving), PiV, sex with protection (yay), semi-public (kinda, they big riskin it), smut with some plot, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.8k

When you received your teacher aide assignment for your final semester, you were stunned. No one else in your program was given a senior-level class to assist with. Tara got freshman English literature, Yvonne got freshman biology, and even Jeremiah got freshman world history. Why were you put with one of the strictest teachers at the university in a subject you weren’t interested in teaching?

“Maybe Business Ethics won’t be that bad. Maybe you’ll like it more than you expect.”

You stare at Tara across the lunch table. She winces and returns her focus to her salad. You poke your fries with your fork, too nervous to stomach even the simplest carbs. 

“It’s a senior level class… I probably know half of them and I’m supposed to what? Grade their tests and exert authority over them when Trumbo isn’t there? What exactly am I supposed to learn that will help me with my elementary education degree?”

“Well, most college guys act like children.”

Simone laughs at her own joke. Her high pitched snickering makes you laugh, despite your frustration. You cover your face to hide your smile, she’s got a point. 

“And I’m supposed to grade their papers using what knowledge?”

“I’m sure Professor Trumbo will give you an outline, if he even lets you grade them at all.”

Simone reaches over and takes your plate of fries away, setting it down in front of her and immediately diving in. 

“I hear Trumbo never takes a teacher’s aide. Wonder why he picked you.”

You glare at Simone, you weren’t going to eat the fries anyways, but now you’re even more nervous than before. How are you supposed to face Trumbo in an hour?

“Whatever the reason, you’re an amazing choice. And if you don’t have much to do, you can use the time to work on your aftergrad applications.”

Now Tara is on the receiving end of your death glare. 

“I told you I was considering grad school, not applying!”

Tara groans and taps your shoulder repeatedly.

“Oh come on, you know you want to! You’ll get a full ride, I just know it!”

You grab her hand and lean towards her until your noses touch.

“I’m considering it, no promises.”

Simone throws a fry at you.

“Now kith.”

You let go of Tara and throw the french fry back at Simone, ignoring her snickering. 

You're sprinting down the hall to Trumbo’s lecture hall an hour later cursing yourself for deciding to walk instead of catching the campus bus. Your sneakers are stained with mud and your skirt is plastered to your legs from how much you’re sweating. It’s unusually warm for January…

You skid to a stop in front of the doors and let yourself pant for a few seconds. You hold your breath and open the doors to see the hall nearly filled with students. Great, a big class. Luckily Trumbo is not here yet so you have a moment to gather your thoughts and dry your brow before trudging to the front of the classroom.

You hear whispers from the students in their seats and try your best to ignore the urge to listen in. Are they talking about you? Do they know you’re the teacher's aide? 

You try to be as quiet as possible as you set your things down at the designated desk at the front of the class. When you turn around you notice everyone’s eyes are locked on you. You slide into your seat and open your laptop, hoping they’ll ignore you if you ignore them.

The door at the back of the hall slams against the wall and everyone turns to watch Professor Trumbo, a lanky middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard, march down the aisle to the front. He tosses his briefcase on the desk and taps the microphone at the podium. A loud squeak makes everyone wince. He leans an arm on the podium and clears his throat.

“Good afternoon. Welcome to Business Ethics. You’re all seniors in your last semester at this university so I know your motivation is at an all time low. Fix that. This class is not going to be a cake-walk. You have 2 essays and 2 tests. If you fail 2 of the 4 you fail the class and have to take the class again in the fall. Yes, that’s correct, you will not be getting your diploma. Therefore, don’t be lazy and don’t be late. Young lady?”

The silence is deafening and you finally look up to see who is ignoring the professor, it turns out it’s you. Trumbo stares at you with a hand on his hip. He motions for you to come up on the platform and you quickly stumble out of your chair.

“Hello professor.”

He gives you a small smile and turns to face the class again.

“This is my teacher’s aide this semester. She’ll be grading all of your assignments and taking attendance everyday. If you choose to treat her like shit, I am giving her complete authority to treat your papers like toilet paper. Don’t be a bitch, simple. Now, here’s the roster, go ahead and take attendance for me.”

He leaves the roster on the podium and returns to his desk to start pulling papers out of his briefcase. You stare at him for a moment, almost unsure you heard him correctly. To avoid getting on his bad side, you step up to the podium and pull a pen out of your jacket pocket. You cringe at how fragile your voice sounds on the microphone, but you push through, calling out each name and checking off everyone present. Until you reach one name, shit… you forgot he was a business major… of course he’s in this class. 

“Sylus Che?”

There’s a moment of silence and you look up, watching the students whisper to each other. 

“Sylus Che?”

Is he really missing the first day of class? 

Didn’t he get kicked out?

Oh my god, he’s in this class? He’s so cute…

You repeat his name, failing to ignore the whispers as your cheeks flush. Your pen hovers over the absent box.

“Present.”

His smooth voice cuts through the whispers and several students turn in their seats to search for the source. You spot a hand raised towards the back of the class and squint to get a better look. He stands and pushes the sleeves of his hoodie over his forearms before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Sorry I didn’t answer before, I was distracted by your beautiful eyes.”

A chorus of giggles erupts and your cheeks burn. You drop your gaze to the roster and can barely make the check by his name with how badly your hand is shaking. You hear Trumbo stand from his chair and look over to watch him approach the podium. He stands at the end of the platform, his hand resting on the corner of the podium. 

“Sylus Che, if my memory is correct I had you in two of my other classes, yes?”

Sylus grins, his brows rise when he notices you looking at him again. 

“That’s correct sir.”

“And, I believe, you passed those classes by the skin of your teeth? No?”

Now the class is giggling at Sylus’s misfortune instead of yours. You bite your lip to avoid smiling. Sylus’s grin doesn’t fade, but his ears do turn red, almost matching his eyes.

“Flirting with the teacher’s aide won’t improve your chances at passing. Now, sit down.”

Sylus obeys and you continue reading off the list of names. Once you’re done, you return to your desk and hide behind your Curriculum Development textbook to text Tara.

Me

𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘊𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴…

Tara

𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 “𝘏𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘚𝘪𝘯” 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴? 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘠𝘓𝘜𝘚?

Me

𝘠𝘌𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘠𝘓𝘜𝘚 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

Tara

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰?

Me

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 “𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴” 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵

Trumbo approaches you after class and hands you a folder.

Tara

𝙊𝙈𝙂😲

“I know you’re not a business major, that’s why I picked you.”

“W-wait, you wanted me specifically?”

He leans against your desk and crosses his arms.

“I’ve taught this class for nearly 20 years and everyone gives the same cookie-cutter answers. ‘Don’t be shady’, ‘don’t commit tax fraud’, ‘don’t fire someone without a real reason’ - I’m sick of it. I want someone who knows nothing to make these knuckleheads use common sense rather than textbook answers. I don’t want a ‘don’t do it’ I want a ‘here’s why.’”

You flip through the folder in your hands, it’s full of notes and outlines for papers and tests.

“You’re the top student in your major. You’ve been taught to deal with difficult students and essentially read people. Everyone I asked recommended you.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling, knowing you were recommended makes you feel less anxious in general. 

“If you have any questions or aren’t sure on a grade, I will gladly look it over. But I want you to listen to your gut. Give the grade that feels right based on their answers and whether or not you think they’re bullshitting or really believe what they’re spewing.” 

You nod and shove the folder into your bag.

“You can use this lecture hall for office hours, no one else uses it except for me.”

“Office hours?”

“Oh right, I won’t be the one meeting with students, that’ll be you. If they want to beg for a better grade, it won’t be with me.”

“I have to cover your office hours too? I… what about…”

“Did you inquire about why your Education Ethics class was rescheduled for you?”

You open your mouth to reply, but your lightbulb moment silences you.

“So I do everything but give the lectures?”

“Basically.”

Trumbo stands and tucks his briefcase under his arm. He smiles and hands you a post-it note.

“Here’s my number. Don’t hesitate to call me if you’re having trouble with someone.”

With that, he leaves. You stand at your desk for a while, staring at the note and wondering how you’re going to manage the workload. When you finally look up to finish packing your bag, you see someone leaning against the wall next to the exit. You don’t need to squint this time, Sylus’s tall frame is unmistakable. 

Handling Trumbo’s class was much easier than you expected. Everyone was relatively polite and did what they were told. Only one student had failed the course so far. You were weeks away from graduation and already planning your annual beach trip with the girls.

“I’m so bored with the beaches around here… we only ever go to someplace we can drive to. Let’s go international this year! We’re graduating, that warrants a special trip!”

Tara wraps an arm around Simone and matches her pout.

“Yeah, let’s go big this year. It’ll be the last girls trip before we go to grad school and Simone is flying to Tokyo for her big girl tech job!”

You look at the girls over the screen of your laptop and roll your eyes.

“I’m still waiting on my acceptance letter. And unless one of you is paying for me, I can’t afford it. I’m saving for an apartment, remember.”

“Did you guys already order your cap and gown?”

Tara slaps Simone’s hand away from the last nacho and grabs it for herself.

“Yeah, I just hope Trumbo is pleased with my work and gives me a passing grade.”

“You’ve done a shit ton of work for him, he better give you a recommendation letter too!”

“Is there still anything left for you to do?”

“I’m grading the last paper.”

“Who’s in the danger zone? Anyone we know?”

Simone leans forward, wiggling her eyebrows with a smirk.

“There’s a handful, if they get a passing score on this paper they’ll be fine.”

“Is a certain snowy-haired sex god one of them?”

“Simone!”

Tara tries to scold her, but her smile gives her away.

“It would be unethical for me to reveal that information.”

“Bo-ring!” 

You wait until they’re both out of sight to pull out Sylus’s paper from your folder. While you love the color red, especially those ruby red eyes, you hate the sight of how much red is on this paper. Sylus is about to fail Business Ethics and it’ll be your fault. Then again, he never came to you during office hours to plead his case. He’d flirted all semester, even leaving a little note at the end of his last paper trying to woo you. But none of that would help his grade now.

You gather your things and tuck Sylus’s paper in your bag. You have office hours and then you can post the final grades. Your walk to the business building is quiet, the cherry blossom trees had bloomed last week which meant the entire walkway was sprinkled with pink petals. You trudge down the hall to Trumbo’s lecture hall and sigh, it’s so quiet at this time of day with all classes wrapped up and teachers heading home. 

You set up your desk and prepare for two hours of uninterrupted bliss. A few more papers need grading and your final essay for Child Development needs revising. You’re sipping your iced matcha and scrolling through your playlist, searching for the right vibe for this study session, when you hear a door open. When you look up you nearly spray your matcha all over your laptop.

Sylus saunters down the aisle towards you. How he made the most basic outfit look hot, you’ll never know. Ripped jeans, a loose t-shirt with the sleeve rolled up, dirty chucks - to look that effortless would take you hours. He approaches your desk and drops his backpack to the floor, he sits on the corner of the desk and props his foot up on his knee. 

“C-can I help you Sylus?”

The corners of his mouth twitch and he rubs a hand over his face to reset the serious expression he’s trying to maintain.

“Yes, Miss, I was wondering if you’ve graded my paper yet?”

You look down at the folder in front of you, knowing his paper is on top. You clear your throat and rest your folded hands on top of the folder.

“Yes, I have.”

He leans forward, his hair swaying and falling over his forehead, 

“So how am I looking?” 

Hot. Delicious. Fuckable. All correct answers, but not something you can say. Not just because you’re too anxious, but because you’re about to tell this man he isn’t going to be graduating in a few weeks. 

“Uhh… let me ask you a question.” 

He leans back and nods. 

“Do you have morals?”

He laughs, the boisterous sound echoing off the walls in the empty lecture hall.

“I’d like to think so.”

“Do you think your morals align with the ethics discussed in this class?”

He pauses for a moment, then sighs heavily.

“I failed, didn’t I?”

“Answer my question.”

His grimace turns into a grin as he gives you a once-over.

“I think the concepts presented in this class are narrow-minded and rather unrealistic.”  

You open the folder and set his paper down in front of him before crossing your arms.

“That statement alone would have gotten you a better grade than this trash.”

Sylus looks down at his paper, his eyes slowly rise to glare at you. 

“I hope you’re not expecting me to beg.”

“I’m not expecting anything, you had your chance to come to me sooner. You failed, plain and simple.”

“Hmm… narrow-minded and rather unrealistic… that seems to describe you too, sweetie.”

“You can insult me all you like, isn’t going to change your grade.”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong Miss. I’m not insulting you… I’m challenging you.”

You hesitate, your fingers twitching with anxiety. 

“What do you mean by ‘challenge’?”

“The prompt was about negotiations, right?” You nod. “Well, I will prove that business deals should be personalized, negotiating is just another word for interrogating in my book.”

“So you plan on interrogating me?”

He stands and slowly walks around the desk to stand beside you.

“I told you, deals should be personalized. I don’t think interrogating you will help my case.”

You cross your arms and try to tuck your legs under the desk further.

“I’m curious what you think intimidating me will accomplish.”

“Wrong again, kitten.”

The nickname throws you off, you stare up at him, your eyes frantically searching for even a hint of sarcasm. 

“W-what do you –”

He suddenly kneels and takes your hand, bringing it to his lips. He places a slow kiss to your knuckles before turning your hand slightly to kiss your palm. His breath tickles your skin and sends a shock of excitement straight to your core. 

“I tried to be subtle, but it seems you need a more direct approach.” 

He slowly starts to press open mouth kisses up your arm.

“I’ve had my eye on you all semester since the day you came into this classroom all sweaty and out of breath. Your cheeks flushed, lips parted as you gasped for air.”

He places his other hand on your knee and turns your chair to face him. He plays with the lace along the hem of your dress, letting his fingers tease your thigh. 

“You’d sit here, nose in a textbook or trying to hide behind your laptop, but every time you’d look up I’d see you look for me. The way your teeth sunk into that pouty lip of yours when you caught my attention.”

He reaches up and brushes his thumb across your bottom lip. You’re frozen in place, your heart pounding wildly in your chest and your clit damn near vibrating with excitement. You try to squeeze your legs together, but Sylus presses his torso between them. He lifts your hand once more and kisses the tips of your fingers.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t care that much about the paper. Sure, I’d love to get the hell out of this school, but I think I could suffer through another semester if I could fuck you on this desk right now.”

He suddenly sucks your thumb into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the tip and circling before sucking. You let out a breathy moan and close your eyes to try and force yourself to calm down. Sylus releases your thumb with a lewd pop. 

“No, please kitten, I want to see those gorgeous eyes.”

You open your eyes to see Sylus leaning forward, his nose trails along your jaw as his hands fall to your waist.

“Fuck the paper, kiss me.”

He looks up at you, his eyes full of desperation. At this moment, you can’t recall a single lecture about educational ethics and you don’t bother trying. You grab his face and pull him to you, his lips just as needy. His hands reach around and he pulls you to the edge of your seat.

“Get on the desk for me sweetie.”

You follow his instructions without hesitation, all rhyme and reason chucked out the window with your sanity. All you can think of, all you can feel, all you can sense is him - just him.

“That’s it, lean back for me.”

You lean back, letting Sylus lift your dress to reveal your panties. He grabs the back of your neck and brings you forward, crashing his mouth into yours. His other hand squeezes your hip and dips down to cup your clothed pussy. You shiver as he gasps into your mouth, his hand rubbing back and forth, only making you more feral.

“You naughty thing, this wet just from a little flirting?”

You throw your head back and firmly grip his t-shirt to keep from falling back.

“Shut up… ahh… as if you’re not hard right now…”

He chuckles as he licks the side of your neck. 

“Oh I am… and I can’t wait to be so deep it’ll take you weeks to forget the shape of me.”

You moan loudly, your body shaking as he finally slips his hand down the front of your panties to touch you directly. His fingers trace your swollen clit and tease your entrance slowly. You press yourself against his palm and he groans into your neck. Your fingers clutch the back of his shirt. He takes a step back and pulls it over his head as you yank off your cardigan. He clumsily pulls your dress over your head and runs his hands through your hair, gently tugging to tilt your head back so he can kiss your neck again.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…”

Your mind is blissfully empty, for the first time in years… You’re not thinking about papers or tests, student loans or grad school. You’re just letting your body take control. You let your hands slide down Sylus’s torso, every muscle shivering under your touch. A subtle click and zip, you don’t even realize you’re pushing his pants over his hips. 

“So eager… you want it, kitten?”

You let him go and lay back on the desk. His eyes don’t know where to look. He leans over and presses kisses to your stomach while his hands shimmy your panties down your legs. Your back arches off the desk as he kisses you, every tender kiss sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. You sit up suddenly.

“Am I going too fast?”

You shake your head and tuck your fingers under the hem of your bra, yanking it over your head in one swift motion. His pupils dilate as he takes in your fully naked body. 

“I want it, all of it, touch me please, fucking touch me…”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against him. His bare skin against yours makes your head spin. You can feel his heart beating and all you can think is how badly you want him to touch you, to hold you, to consume you. He pushes your shoulders until you are on your back again. His tongue is eager to taste every inch of you, his lips drag along your neck, down to your collarbone, to the swell of your chest, closing around your nipples to suck and lick at the tender flesh. He continues down your stomach and over your hips, and then you whimper as he lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders. 

“Yes, keep making those sweet sounds, you sound so good. Moan for me again angel.”

His tongue dips straight into your pussy making you groan and writhe. He continues to fuck you with his tongue, his nose rubbing against your clit until you feel like you’re about to explode. His hands grab your ass and lift you, pushing his tongue further inside. Your legs shake and you reach back to hold onto the edge of the desk, gripping something to try to stop your legs from snapping shut against his head. 

“I want you to come for me, I need to taste you. Please I need it…”

His voice is so desperate, so raw, you don’t even have to think you just release. Your cries of pleasure are matched with his own, just hearing him moan has you seeing stars. You hear him sucking and slurping like your pussy is a damn water fountain and he’s never seen water before. You’re trembling and almost crying by the time he lifts his head from between your legs. He crawls over you and buries his face into your neck, smearing your release onto your collarbone. 

“You taste divine… better than I imagined…”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting your legs finally relax and hang off the desk. 

“You imagined what I’d taste like?”

He rises and rests his elbows at your side, his face flushed such a pretty shade of pink.

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I needed you, I still need you.”

“Sylus…”

His eyes drift from your lips to meet your gaze.

“Fuck me.”

His crimson eyes darken as lust takes over. He stands and you lift yourself up onto your elbows. You watch as he peels his boxes off, evidence of his own climax staining the fabric. 

“Did you…”

“Cum from eating your pussy? I sure did.”

You sit up fully and loop an arm around his neck, his body collides with yours and you waste no time. His mouth slots over yours and you part your lips to invite him in. His tongue traces your lips and presses against your tongue until you’re delirious from the lack of oxygen. Your hand reaches down between your bodies to wrap around his cock. He tenses and you slowly stroke him until he’s gasping.

“I can’t wait anymore…”

He frees himself from your grasp to grab his wallet from his jeans. He retrieves a condom and tears it open with his teeth. You snatch it out of his hands and roll it on as he whispers your name. As soon as it’s on, he’s lifting you off the desk and lowering you onto his cock. 

“SYL– oh… Sylus fuuuuck…”

You wrap your legs around him and cling to him, his face buried in your chest as he slowly stretches you out. 

“Holy fuck, she’s so tight… breathe for me sweetie, you can do it.”

You throw your head back and moan loudly, the sound of your cries bouncing off the walls and turning you on even more. Your pussy pulses and you force yourself to take a deep breath, your belly expanding. He bites your nipple and you nearly cum again. He lowers you quickly, his teeth rolling your nipple distracting you enough to take the rest of his impressive cock.

“You’re taking me so well, she’s sucking me in now, you feel that?”

You nod frantically, the deep rumble of his laugh makes your stomach clench. You need more.

“You want me to move, angel? Is that what you want?”

You nod again, your nails digging into his back. 

“Use your words, let me hear that beautiful voice. Please, angel, speak to me.”

“Yes yes Sylus… fuck me, move please I need you - I need you to move…”

The next thing you know, your back is hitting the desk and his cock is slowly pulled out. Just as you’re about to take a breath, he’s ramming himself back inside. You scream his name and grind your hips forward. 

“Shit… do that again, grind on me, angel.”

You roll your hips and feel his cock twitch inside of you. Your walls flutter as you match his pace. The sounds of skin against skin, the lewd squelch of your leaking pussy and his guttural groans fade and all you can hear is your heartbeat. The tension you’ve felt for nearly the whole semester, finally reaching its peak. 

“Sy, Sy, Sy! I’m going to…  I’m…”

“I know, I know, me too… Let me feel you… come on, I have you.”

Your body trembles as you cum on his cock. A growl erupts from Sylus’s chest as he falls apart. You can only feel his cock twitching and his hips pulsing, you’re almost angry at the condom for keeping you from feeling him completely. And now, you can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like for him to fill you.

“I wish I felt that, I wish I felt you fill me… fuck…”

Sylus groans into your shoulder, his chest heaving as he tries to come down. 

“There’s always next time, sweetie. If you want there to be a next time.”

You whine as he pulls out. He removes the condom and tosses it into the trash can next to your desk. You sit up and reach for your bra, clumsily pulling it on over your head.

“What are you doing? What if someone sees that?”

Sylus grabs some tissues from Trumbo’s desk and returns to you, gently spreading your legs to clean you up. 

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

He turns to clean himself and you hop off the desk to grab your panties and dress off the floor.

“Okay Mr. Rhett Butler.”

“Oh, you got the reference.”

“I didn’t peg you for a movie buff.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You’re about to put your dress on when he stops you. He stands in front of you in his boxers, his hands settling at your waist. Your breath catches as he pulls you forward. 

“I meant it, you know.”

“M-meant what?”

He leans down and places gentle kisses to the side of your neck. 

“I don’t care about the paper. The only deal I want to make involves seeing you again.”

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@trishiepo0

@not-so-quite-human

@kitsunetori

@babyx91

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@silverbrain

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@hauntedbysmut

@withering-dream

@lostwingz2236

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@freddy-2002-blog

@plsdonttakemyname

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: super glad that you guys still enjoy this series :x i’m gonna try to do a better job at updating it 💜 much love to you all and thanks for the love and support ! <<prev >>next

You stare at Emily’s smile as you whisper out a simple question.

“..Does it hurt?”

She shakes her head.

You agreed to go to lunch with her. She claims it’s been a while since you both have spent some alone time together.

It was huge. It was reddish and it looked fresh. She seemed lighter. Especially in the eyes. She looked even more happier if it were possible.

“Does it hurt to touch?” you ask and reach your hand and she swipes your hand away. Your hand is back in your lap. She was protective over it.

She hides the mark with her hair.

“Did it hurt when you got it?” you ask her.

“A bit….He did it while…We were you know…Climaxing.” she says in a whisper.

“Is that what’s supposed to happen?” you ask.

“Well, I don’t know…Old Quil says it could’ve helped relived the pain better.”

“Wow.” you breathed out.

“You think Paul will do it?” she asks before she takes a sip of her drink.

You shrug, “I don’t know..Maybe. He might.”

“You two are getting married soon. It’s basically the wolf marrying you.” she says. You nod.

“It’s like…I can hear what he’s thinking. He can hear what I’m thinking…It’s so surreal because it’s like imprinting times ten.” she says in a lovesick trance but she seemed very relaxed.

“Does it freak you out?”

“Surprisingly, no. Not at all.” she says with a light laugh.

“I’m happy for you.” you say and she beams with a smile.

Slowly, you walk in the home, closing the door. You hang up your jacket.

You were alone.

You close the door to your personal studio space. As your fingers worked the clay sculpture, your mind was focused on Emily’s mark.

It looked painful to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Knowing how you felt around Paul and being imprinted to him, you wondered how it would feel when it’s amplified.

You were almost finished and you heard the door creak open.

His hands lift up the window.

“You need some fresh air in here.” Paul says and you pause your activities.

“Hello to you too.”

He grinned and planted a smooch on your face. You chuckled as it was sloppy on purpose.

“I’m hungry. You hungry?”

“Nah…Not really.” you answer.

“You’ve been here all day I bet.” he says.

“No..I went out to lunch with Emily earlier.” you tell him.

“Oh.”

“But, I can still make you something to eat.” you say as you rise up and go to wash your hands.

“You’ll never believe this shit.”

You bust out into a laugh as you plate his food, “What?”

“We have a female shifter.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“But…Why are people still shifting?” you ask thick in confusion.

He says a quick thank you before he digs in, “Who the fuck knows. I guess there’s still nomads out there.”

“So..This has never happened before?”

“No.” he says.

“What’s her name?”

“Leah Clearwater.”

You froze.

She was older than you. You definitely heard of her and seen her around only a handful of times since she was fairly popular. You both had never spoken. Last that you heard, she moved away after a couple years after graduating high school.

“She moved back?”

“Yeah.” he says with a sigh, “She’s a motherfucker to deal with.”

You would’ve laughed but you just couldn’t.

“What…What does she do?” you ask.

“It’s a fucking Sam marathon. I thought Sam was the bad guy as well but he can’t help who he imprints on. Even if it was her cousin.”

Things were starting to make sense.

“So….She feels Emily stole Sam from her.” you state. He confirms.

You sat in silence as you then hear how her little brother Seth, had also shifted.

Damn.

“How old is he?”

“Fifteen.”

“Poor kid”. you say quietly.

The next morning, you and Paul made your way to Emily’s.

Paul pushed open the door and sitting in a chair with her arms crossed, was short haired girl with a mean look that’s permanent on her face.

She looked over at you both. She looked a bit different since the last time you saw her, she had perfect dark long hair. It was cut now.

“What’s up, Paul.”

He nods at her greeting. She turns her head, glaring at Emily’s back. Emily turns around with a slight smile, you could tell she was a bit uncomfortable as she set food on the table.

You have a seat and the tension was so thick, a knife would’ve shredded in half from trying to slice it.

Sam strolls in with the others. They all say hello to you and Paul, a young boy comes in last as he eyes you curiously. You wave and his eyes light up with boyish charm and waves back.

“That’s Seth, Y/N.” Sam tells you.

“Nice to meet you.” you tell him politely.

“Yeah, you too.” Seth says.

Bella and Jacob sits next to you after Bella gives you a quick hug.

You were pleased to see that Angela came as well. She sits next to Embry at the large table. Quil and Jared bicker with each other as Kim sits quietly.

Things were okay until you noticed that Leah didn’t touch any food. Her plate was empty and her arms were still crossed as she glared at Emily. The entire time.

“You’re not gonna eat?” Jared asks her.

“No… Not her food.” Leah says bitterly as she tilted her head to continue to glare at her. Emily’s feelings looked hurt but she tried her best to keep her spirits high.

“Just eat, Lee.” you hear Seth tell his sister quietly. She only looks at her brother and he immediately gets the idea before he gives up on persuading her. She returns her glare back to Emily.

“Me and Jake’s going to the beach after this. Are you coming?” Bella asks you as people fell into other conversation.

“Sure. I’ve been cooped up lately.” you say.

”Y/N, what are you working on?” Emily asks, trying to ignore Leah’s hard pressed look.

“J-just a clay sculpture.” you say.

“You make sculptures?” Seth asks you. You just nod, “Yeah, something like that.” You were feeling the air be heavy. You hurry up to eat so you can leave.

“Slow down.” Paul tells you softly with a chuckle. If only he knew.

Plates were cleared as you rise up to take your plate to the sink.

“Do you want me to take yours?” you heard Kim’s voice. You turn from the sink and see that she was talking to Leah.

“Do whatever you want.” Leah says, still not letting Emily catch a break.

You felt a tap on your arm and see that Jacob was steering Bella out the door with his arm around her shoulder.

You follow them out.

You let out a breath when you both got to the beach.

Jacob cracks up.

“What. Was. That?” Bella asked as you all sat on a fallen log.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Leah.” Jacob says. Bella chuckles.

“That was so intense.” Bella says.

“Be glad you don’t have to see inside her mind.” Jacob says and grimaced a bit. You look at the waves.

“What did Emily even do? Did they not get along growing up or something?” Bella asks.

“Emily came to town when Sam went missing, she was supposed to help Leah find him. Sam imprinted on Emily. Emily rejected it at first but the pull to each other was too strong she just couldn’t ignore it anymore. Leah thinks Emily was creeping around with Sam the entire time he was missing and..It’s a mess.”

“Jeez.” Bella says.

“I mean…Sam couldn’t help it…Right?” Bella then asks. Jacob nods, “He can’t. Imprinting just happens.”

“I do feel bad. She has to watch her cousin and ex be together like it’s nothing. God, that would kill me.”

“Yeah. They were like sisters too. During the summer Emily would come here or Leah would go to Neah Bay.” Jacob says.

“Her brother is nice.” you say quietly.

“Yeah. He’s a good kid..Too bad he has to deal with this.” Jacob says.

“He’s like the polar opposite of his sister.” Bella replies.

Jacob chuckled at that.

“They were gonna get married too…” Jacob says.

“Damn.” you and Bella say at the same time.

“She’s definitely gonna freak when-” you freeze before shaking your head.

“What?” Jacob asks you.

“Nothing…” regretting that you opened your mouth.

“What? What? Spit it out.” Jacob says.

You breathe in, “You didn’t hear it from me…But…Sam marked Emily.”

“What?!” Jacob asks you in shock and his face showed he heard the biggest piece of gossip known to man.

You motion for him to quiet down.

“Wait, what? What’s marking?” Bella asks, not wanting to feel out of the loop.

“Shhh..” you say.

Jacob chuckles as he tells Bella, “It’s the solidity of the bond between the imprint and wolf. You don’t have to do it, but it’s like taking the imprint a step further. It’s not even a step, it’s just a whole new level.”

Bella eyes are frozen with slight shock, “Yeah, she’s gonna freak.”

“So Emily’s been covering it up.” Jacob observed.

“Yeah. She told and showed me over lunch.”

“When Leah finds out, we have to hide all of the knives.” Jacob says trying not to laugh.

“I don’t think she needs all of that. She will just tear Sam to pieces with her wolf.” Bella says.

Both you and Jacob hum in agreement.

You all make your way back to Emily’s after some time. Many of the others were gone. You heard talking in the living room.

That’s where you went.

“I’m so surprised you haven’t met your match.” you heard Leah’s voice say. You enter and Paul is lounging on the couch as he looked at her, “Nobody can beat me.”

“That cockiness still didn’t leave you.” she says with a grin.

“You call it cockiness, I call it confidence.”

Leah snorts as she looks up for a bit with a soft smile. It was the first time you seen her smile since meeting her. She looked at you when she realized you entered with Bella and Jacob. She didn’t say anything.

You go to sit next to Paul.

She gets up and goes out.

“Where are you going?” Paul asks her.

“Wherever the wind takes me.” she says humorously.

Paul shakes her head at her with a soft grin. He takes a look at you.

“You staying for dinner?”

“Maybe.” you say with a slight shrug. He then lays in your lap. Your hand rest in his hair.

“Jared told us you guys have a pool.” Jacob says.

“Jared needs to keep his freaking mouth shut I swear.” you mutter.

“Hey, what about me?” Bella says as she leans against Jacob.

“You get a pass… Jake still has to earn it.”

“Aw, what?” Jacob says as you and Bella chuckle.

Dinner was slightly better. Leah wasn’t there to make tension. Emily seemed much more relaxed.

Jacob being immature kept giving you and Bella looks. You only subtly shake your head at him.

“What?” Paul asks as he noticed.

“Nothing.” you say.

“So..Did you and Paul get a date yet?” Emily asks.

“Umm…No.” you say.

To be honest, you’ve been so busy with work that you didn’t get started on wedding planning.

“How come? This is exciting.” Bella asks.

“I’m loaded with commissions right now.” you say.

Going independent was supposed to make things easier. Now, it just seemed like people were tugging on your arm, fighting over you almost. The only good thing about it, seemed to be that you could keep all profits to yourself.

“I could help.” Jacob says.

“Yeah, no thanks.” you say. Sam and Paul laughed.

You closed the door to your small studio room, only for it to open again.

“Come on, Y/N.” Paul says.

“I’ll be there in a few.” you say as you sit down on your stool.

“You’re almost finished anyway.”

“I know. So, let me just finish.”

He stands there for a moment before eventually leaving you alone.

By the time you were finished, it was way past midnight. He snored softly in bed and you plant a small kiss on his cheek before laying down right next to him.

Larry invited you to his upcoming birthday bash in LA.

“Bring your fiancé.”

“If he says yes.” you say as you walk around a bit with the phone to your ear.

When he came in from patrol from earlier that morning, you step back from his smooch. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned back in. You softly smile.

“I want to ask you something really quick.”

“What?”

You tell him all about going to LA. He sighs. “I can’t. I would sneak out but, Sam put me with Leah for patrols.”

“Oh…Why you and not anyone else?” you ask as he pulled you into his lap as he sat on the couch.

“She doesn’t give me hell as much as she gives the others.” Paul chuckles a bit, “Sam’s words.”

You then chuckle a bit.

“Did you know each other before?”

He paused a bit. He then nods.

“Yeah…We weren’t tight or anything but she was actually cool before all of the Sam and Emily shit.”

You nod.

“Take Bella.”

“As if Jacob would let me.” you joke.

“You both went to Florida. He will be alright.”

You caress his cheek, “But, will you be alright?”

“I will miss you like crazy. But, I would rather you go where there’s sun instead of locking yourself in that damn room.”

“Hey, leave my room alone.” you say and he grins.

Bella looked up at you with excitement.

“Um yes! I would love to go.”

“Okay.” you say with a grin.

You sit down at the table after she placed her dinner for Charlie in the oven.

“What about Jake?”

“He will be alright…It’s LA. Come on.”

You laugh lightly.

“So, I get to meet the infamous godfather. Is he all macho?”

“No.” you say chuckling, “He’s actually really sweet. He will show us great hospitality.”

She’s happy with this.

“He asked me to bring Paul but..”

“Patrol?”

You nod.

“That sucks…Hopefully a time will come when they get travel with us. They’re the ones who really, I mean really, deserve a vacation.” Bella says. You agree.

You came home. Paul was asleep on his stomach. You were about to climb right into bed with him but you instead smooth your hands on his back.

He groaned awake and you stop feeling bad that you had woken him up.

“No, no, no. Keep going.” he says thick with sleep. You continue, applying pressure.

“Did you talk to Bella?” he asks.

“Yes. She said yes without hesitation.”

“That’s good…I did not want you going alone.”

“It’s LA. There’s no vampires.” you say with a soft smile as you climb on him to get a better angle.

“Yeah. But there’s guys who are human.”

You roll your eyes playfully but you wince a bit as you heard pops in his back but he hummed a satisfied noise.

“I have this right here. I don’t need anyone else.” you tell him.

He turns over and you’re still straddling him. His hands are firm on your hips. Your eyes immediately close as he forced them to move against his rock hard length. You open your eyes up to find that he was sleeping naked this entire time.

Soon, you’re pressed against him as he sits up and you’re sinking down on him with a breathy moan. His hands grip your back as you grip his. You felt the nips and open mouth kisses on your neck. He was god as you kept chanting it. He grunted as he asked you if it felt good. You agree with almost incoherent words.

You ate breakfast that he made you in the morning as you looked at him. He stuffed his face which made you chuckle a bit.

“What?”

“…I was just thinking..” you start.

“What?”

“Do you want…To mark me?”

He stops chewing.

He doesn’t answer.

You look at him.

You only resume eating as if you didn’t say anything. He did too. Eventually.

You wait with Bella at Emily’s while she waited for Jacob to get off of patrol.

Leah was there. She ignored Emily.

“I made brownies. You girls want some?” she asks as she entered the living room where you all where.

“Um..Sure.” Bella says. She rises and she looks to you. You rise as she was a bit frightened to walk past Leah by herself.

In the kitchen you both take slow bites. You both hoped that Jacob would hurry up. Sam made things worse by entering the kitchen from his bedroom.

Not even caring that Leah was in the living room, he places kisses over Emily’s face. She smiled a bit before pulling away and pushing a plate of brownies in his direction.

“You’re the best.”

You hung your head.

You heard a scoff. You look up to see Leah in the doorway of the kitchen. Pissed.

“That’s what he used to say by the way.” Leah says bitterly.

Sam sighs a bit as he realized his screwup.

“You’re a great baker as well. I’m sure you didn’t lose your touch.” Sam offered.

“Fuck. You.” she says with such weight.

She stormed out and you didn’t have to guess that she was in her wolf. Jacob comes in and hugs Bella. He takes a look at the environment as he eats the remainder of her brownie.

“What did you say this time?” he asks Sam.

“I just complimented her baking skills.” he says quietly.

It was silent for a moment before Jacob took it upon himself to silently let you and Bella know that you all could leave.

As you both were leaving out, Kim and Jared were entering the home.

“Em baked?” Jared says excitedly as he smelled the air.

“Go nuts.” you say quietly.

He doesn’t open the door but stands on the porch with Kim.

“Wait..Is it safe to go in?” Jared asks with caution.

“Yeah..Leah just left.” Jacob says.

“Oh.” he says with a slight wince as he takes a look at all of your faces.

“Why do you guys act like she’s the devil or something?” Kim asked. It’s quiet for a moment.

“We’re not.” Bella says.

“Please. You guys are. If it were any of you, don’t say you all would be smiles.”

“You ready to go?” Jacob asks Bella impatiently and she nods as she turns and takes his hand.

As you all walk to Jacob’s home, he shakes his head.

“We’re not mean. Right?” Bella asks as you both wheel your bikes.

“No. She’s just been trying to be Leah’s friend for some reason.” Jacob says.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Leah will be pleased to have a member of her fan club.” he says as he wheeled his own bike.

Coming back to Emily’s to see if Paul got back, you find him in the living room saying goodbyes to Leah.

“Alright see ya, Lee.” Paul tells her. She goes in and gives him a hug and he returns it.

She doesn’t look in your direction as she leaves out.

“You ready?” you finally ask him.

He nods once.

You both decided to walk home but it was silent.

“We should go sit at the beach.” you suggest quietly.

“Nah…”

You nod as you continue walking.

Paul flopped down on the couch as soon as you two came home.

“Come on, watch this with me.” he says as he was happy that his favorite movie was on.

You groan a bit, “I wish I could.”

“Why do you wish?” he asks.

“Deadline. Especially since I have to leave.”

“Oh…Hurry up so you can catch some of this.” he says trying to keep a cheerful attitude. You smile a bit.

Paul was asleep on the couch when you came out. It was very late, almost morning. You shook his thigh gently as you tried to wake him up but he was deep asleep.

“Paul.” you call. He blinks awake.

“What? I’m watching tv.”

You chuckle, “Liar.”

You pull his arm to tug him up and he gets up. He lays his head on your shoulder, almost making you fall but he catches you with a chuckle.

“Would quit acting silly?” you say. He’s still laughing.

His face was neutral as he watched you pack.

“It’s just the weekend right?”

“Yeah.” you say.

“What time again?”

“Sunday morning. I promise.” you say.

He watches you some more.

The day you and Bella touched down, you all went to an interactive art show. Bella made sure to bring her camera.

Larry’s girlfriend then made him a birthday dinner.

“No fucking way.” Larry laughs as he opens his gift from you.

“Happy birthday.” you say with a smile.

“Thank you so much, Y/N.” he says and gives you a big hug.

You sculpted him a piece of decor for him.

You appreciate the intimacy of the dinner because the next day, that’s when his party began.

For it to be Larry’s birthday party, the guests that came and brought people, made it into the own party. You now understood the dinner the day prior.

People who weren’t even in the art scene were there.

You hold Bella’s hand. It was the first time you seen someone snort a line of coke as if it was nothing.

However, things were better as you both unknowingly made funny conversation with a musician.

“Wait that sample came from you?!” Bella asks in surprise.

He nods with a chuckle.

“Are you making new music?” you ask him.

“Yeah. I just have to make the cover but my album is about to drop.” he says.

“Do you need someone? Y/N is an artist.” Bella nudge you with her elbow.

You wave it off but he looks at you.

“For real?” he asks you seriously.

“Yeah but, go with your original plan.”

“No, no. What type of art do you do?” he asks with great interest.

He hands you your phone back after he swiped through photos.

“Before you leave, we have to link up.” he tells you.

Bella came as you talked ideas with him. It was the first time you were in a professional studio.

“You put cool ranch doritos in this?” Bella asks him as she bit and chewed on a baked chocolate chip cookie.

He smiles and nods.

“It works.” she tells him.

He let you and Bella listen to his songs to get the idea.

“Okay…I got it.” you tell him as you set down your pencil.

He nods with a smile when you show him the ideas.

While Bella slept, you stayed up as you worked on the agreed art direction.

You send it to him right when it was an hour before it was time for you and Bella to board the plane to go home.

You came home and Paul made it seem like you were away for twenty years.

“I should go away more, I like this treatment.” you joke and he makes a disapproving noise.

You chuckle.

At the bonfire, you prayed that Leah would understand imprinting. Seth was just happy to be there. You watched as he followed Jacob around when he arrived with Bella.

“I saved you some burgers and hotdogs, Jake!” Seth says happily.

“You’re the best.” Jacob says to him with a grin and ruffled his hair.

Paul tugged your hand to sit next to him.

Leah came, but with something. A hydroflask.

“You want anything?” Paul asks you. You shake your head as you didn’t want to say yes, only to not eat it.

He tells you he will be right back.

Leah sauntered over and you didn’t expect her to sit next to you.

“Hi.”

You look at her, “Hey.”

“Y/N..Right?”

“In the flesh.”

She chuckled.

“So…You’re dating Paul?”

You nod. She nods.

“How long?”

You tell her.

“High school sweethearts…” she says and looks at him, “It does kind of suit him…. I can’t hate on it.”

You nervously smile as you hoped that Bella would hurry up with getting food with Jacob.

She touched your arm.

“Want some of this?” she whispered. Her mischievous grin made you chuckle. You take a sniff. You make a face that made her laugh.

“I don’t really drink all like that.” you say.

“What?” she asks surprisingly.

“If anything, I’ll blow down here and there.” you say. Her eyes lit up.

“You got some right now?” she whispered excitedly.

You chuckle a bit, “Not on me…But hey, maybe we’ll make a day of it.” Her of all people needed it.

She grinned.

“Hey, you’re less annoying than the others.” she says in a hushed tone.

“Um..Thanks.” you say.

“No, seriously…And then…The girls Paul used to entertain used to be all..” and she makes a disgusted face that didn’t make you jealous, but it made you laugh a bit.

“He did tell me you guys like..Seen each other around.”

“Yeah..Yeah..We did..” she says and thinks off and you have questions.

“Did you guys know each other well?”

She laughs. She covers her mouth to muffle her laugh.

“I’m sorry….You seem cool..I wouldn’t want to lay it on you like all….Damn…I really don’t want to be messy.” she sincerely says and it makes you freeze at her. She looked uncomfortable. She only slightly shakes her head as she looked at you.

“What…What do you mean?” you ask trying to keep your voice light.

“I…I mean…We were young and reckless so..” she says trying to brush it off.

“Hm..” you mused.

“I don’t want to make things weird for you…I’m surprised he didn’t like…Warn you or…Tell you, at least.” she says in a hushed tone.

She wasn’t taunting but she takes a drink to stop talking. It was clearly the alcohol. She was spilling out her words.

Paul is coming back over you two and she calls out his name.

“Didn’t we know each other?” Leah asks.

“Leah…Just shut up.” he says.

“Come on, let’s joke about it. It was a long time ago. You’re with her now. I mean..She has the right to-“

“Leah. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” he snapped at her.

Her smile doesn’t fade.

“Paul.” she said his name in a tone that let him know that it was unnecessary for him. She then looked at your uneasy face and looked back at him.

”We know each other well. Tell her how well we know each other, Paul.” she insists as she hits his arm.

It was one look that made you freeze.

It was the look that showed he was seething.

“How…Well?” you ask with your eyes down.

“….Its….Before we dated.” he says quietly.

You look up at his chagrined face. You felt your heart form cracks.

“He always hung around us older kids and I found out very soon…He was very mature for his age.” Leah joked. She said it low to where nobody looked over in the direction of the conversation.

You still get up and not even daring to look back at him calling your name.

You rest your hands on your knees as you felt sick while you were on your way home. Shaky breaths came and that gave Paul enough time to catch up with you.

“Just tell me the truth…No matter how bad it is.” you whisper.

“Let’s go home first.”

“Just tell me now.” you whispered.

He swallowed.

“It happened when her and Sam was fighting one time…Me and you weren’t even talking to each other yet... They broke up for a brief period of time…Way before the shifting stuff even happened..We were….”

He took too long to explain.

“You had sex with her….Right?” you choked out, interrupting him.

“Yeah….But, it only happened once.”

“Okay.”

He blinked at you.

“So, that’s why she was acting weird towards me…There was plenty of opportunity for you to tell me knowing she was going to be around me.”

He couldn’t say anything as he looked down.

You turn with that and finish walking back home. He was so silent, you didn’t even realize that he was behind you when you went to shut the door behind you and it stopped due to him taking it over and shutting it.

“Y/N…Let’s talk about it.”

“I’d rather just forget it…You had a past…I won’t hold it against you.”

“Yeah but-“

“Just drop it, Paul…..Please?” you whisper. He takes a look at you before looking down. He nods.

“You can go back to the bonfire…I’m just gonna..Work on…” you trail off as your thumb points towards the room you loved to work in.

“I don’t want to go back…Not without you. If you’re not going, I’m not going.”

You’re quiet for a moment.

You just grab his hand.

”You’re my bestfriend. Why are you so afraid to tell me things?”

He relaxed. Shoulders dropped and you almost didn’t recognize him.

“It’s hard Y/N. I don’t want you to be disgusted with me. I was wild.”

His tone alone made you pull him in close and he smothers his body with yours, it made you incredibly but deliciously nervous.

“It was ‘in the moment’ type of thing. It’s why it’s never happened again. I should’ve stayed in my place...” he says.

“How do you feel…When you look at her?” you ask him.

“ I feel..She does deserves better..I never want to experience that..Ever. That’s why I don’t want to lose you. Ask me whatever you want, I will answer.” he says.

“Will you not keep anything else from me? I get you have a past…You didn’t learn those skills from fiddling with your thumbs.” you say and you hear his chuckle.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to judge you.” you reassure. He nods.

It was a nice day as you waited for Jacob to pick up the phone.

“Speak.” he greets.

You roll your eyes.

“Trying to go swimming?”

“….You mean like cliff diving?“

“Oh we can do that. I was gonna suggest my pool but-“

“No! Bells is with Angela though.”

“I don’t care, you can still come. I kind of want to talk to you anyways.”

He hangs up and he’s over.

You both float after an ultimate splashing session.

His face is dripping with disapproval, “You're kidding me right? You let him off way too damn easy.”

“Jake, I don’t want to fight with him.”

“I don’t care…If it was the other way around he would’ve popped his lid and you know it.”

“It’s not like he hid the fact that he got around back then anyway.”

“But still.” he says rolling his eyes.

“He was loyal even before the imprint.”

“Is that how you’re looking at it? Seriously Y/N. You give him way too much grace. I’m not hexing you but let a guy give you the smallest, I mean the smallest amount of attention, watch how he acts. I bet the words ‘I won’t judge you’ won’t come out of his mouth.” he says quoting you.

You swim away a bit and you say dismissively, “Yeah, yeah.”

Emily closed her cabinet as she was trying to make everyone a dinner with the help of Angela.

“I can get it for you.” you tell her as you set your sketchbook down.

You get your keys and Leah perks up from the couch.

“You’re going to the store?”

You nod.

“Can I come?”

You freeze a bit before you nod again.

She compliments your car. You say your thanks.

Leah boredly flips through the magazines at the store. You grab what Emily asked to get.

“We don’t have to go straight to Emily’s.”

You look at her.

She walked by you a bit as she played with her light jacket pocket. You knew the smell.

“I hate all of this…I have no friends. No period…A fucking wolf…Who the hell did I piss off so bad?” she asked in a hideout by the beach. It was very easy to miss.

You squint as grey leaves your open mouth as you speak, “No period?”

She takes what you were offering in your hand and she takes her turn, “I don’t even want to celebrate because I don’t even have an imprint..Like you all do.” she frowned.

“You’ll find your person.”

“Do not talk to me about that when you’re the last person to open your mouth.”

“First of all..” you accept your turn again, you blow out the drag after you held it, “Paul was the last person I would ever thought in a billion years, I would ever even talk to.”

“Yeah but..I would kill for that…The only person who could make it all better…Is happy…Free from feeling how I feel…Why can’t he feel…Just a second of how I feel?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry…I didn’t want to make things weird. I wish it didn’t happen, the post clarity was just…I was drunk when I started running my mouth..” she says.

“I’d rather that to happen than me going all of this time not knowing.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while before asking, “So…Does this mean I still get an invite to the wedding?”

“Sure..Why not.” you say with a grin.

You both made your way back to Emily’s.

Coming in, you set the bag down on the counter. The cooking food smelled so good as it wafted through the home.

You slowly sit down next to Paul as he watched you. He discreetly sniffed and he knew what took you so long. It was faint but, he’s been around you long enough to know. He doesn’t say anything.

“We were gone all of that time and nothing is finished?” Leah asked out loud.

You break into a chuckle. Leah hearing you laugh, eventually made her laugh. You’re laughing together.

Talking surrounded you as you tried to watch what was on tv but you instead watched the colors and zoned out.

You wish you brought a sketchbook.

Emily does finally says that the food is finished. Paul gets up from the couch and takes your hand.

“Oh my god…This is really good.” you tell Emily.

“Aw, thanks.” Emily says.

“Like…So good.” you say. Jared smirked.

“Leah likes it too. She’s almost finished with her plate already.” Jared points out.

“I’m hungry.” she says with her mouth chewing with food.

“You hungry too, Y/N?” Jared asks with humorous glint.

“What?” you ask as you chewed. Jared saw how hooded your eyes were when you looked over at him and he chortled to himself.

“What?” Kim asks him.

“Nothing.” Jared says as he finishes out his laughter.

You only brush it off and continue eating.

“So, when will the work that you did in LA come out?” Sam asks.

“Soon…Real soon.” you say in a lax tone.

“We have to go back. I had such a great time. California changed since the last time I was there.” Bella says with a smile.

“Right? I mean I would live there…But like…Christmas though. What’s a Christmas without snow? I gotta have snow on Christmas.”

“I thought you hated the snow?” Kim asks.

“I appreciate it….It sets the tone.” you halfheartedly say.

“I agree.” Angela speak up with a grin.

“It does. The first time I seen snow was when I started living here. I hate anything cold and wet but Christmas time doesn’t feel like Christmas without the snow.” Bella says to you.

“I made dessert.” Emily then says.

“Oh my god, yes.” you say with a smile as you put your hands together for a moment.

“No way, you’re still hungry.” Jacob tells you. You ate two entire hearty plates. He’s never seen you eat that much. He voiced it out.

“I have.” Paul simply says quietly with his hand still on the back of your chair.

“News to me.” Jacob muttered.

Jared leaned on the counter as he drinks a cup of juice.

Your eyes stayed on the sink.

“Who would’ve thought that was the way to pull Leah in?” he says in a hushed tone.

“Shut up.” you say laughing a bit.

Leah still didn’t speak to Emily during the days you would still come over.

You sat on the couch as Paul was on patrol with Jared.

Kim said hi to Leah. She only waved to her but flops next to you with a grin, “Hey.”

“Hey.” you say.

“What’s that?” she asks as she sees you doodling.

You just let her look at it. She then asks if she can look through the whole book.

You let her. She takes her time with flipping through each page.

As you were washing dishes at home, Bella texts, double texting you to look online. You do.

“Oh, wow.” you say as you stand at the sink, looking at your phone. The water is still running.

Paul shuts the water off as he looks at you, “What?”

“Look! Look!” you say with a smile.

Your artwork was posted.

“Y/N. One of the most talented people I got to meet and I’m so grateful. Without her, this album wouldn’t have been visually made. Making this album cover with you was great and such a magical experience as we were able to go all out with creativity. You have a real gift for capturing beauty and I’m not just talking about the art itself ♥️ Seriously though, I appreciate her and her mind sooo much. Hopefully, you all appreciate this album just as much as I do. OUT NOW!”

He stared at the picture of you two hugging each other tight. He swipes, there’s another picture of you two not being serious and being silly. He swipes over and there are more where you two were sitting close as you both worked on ideas together.

It displayed the fun you had. He took a look at your face and the faint smile you displayed as you looked at the pictures with him.

You watch as his mood change. Your heart beat faster as you his face hardened.

“What is it?” you ask.

He gave you a face that showed he was annoyed. You close your eyes as your smile faded.

“What is it?” you ask again slowly.

“Don’t act dumb.” he says deadpanned.

“I’m not.” you say with slight annoyance. He reads out loud, not hiding his distaste for a section of the text.

“You have a real gift for capturing beauty and I’m not talking-“

“Here we go.” you mutter. But he still finishes reading over your spoken statement.

“What do you mean here we go?….You were just crying the other day about me and Leah and then turn around, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with this. That’s a love letter, not an accolade….It sounds like you rocked his world.”

You glare at him as you snatched your phone back. The audacity of him.

“I can’t relate. You two actually fucked!” you snap at him.

He clenched his jaw before rolling his eyes, “It was a long ass time ago.”

“Aren’t you even happy for me?”

“I am Y/N. I am. What you did was amazing. I’m not happy about his wordplay though.”

“I don’t know. I made something for someone and you’re thinking I opened my legs for him all because he gave me my flowers… That’s totally unfair. You’re thinking every guy wants to hump my leg. Get over yourself.”

“You don’t want to get me started. Remember New York? With Cullen?”

“What. Are. You. Talking. About? You’re not even making sense.” you grit out, feeling so angry that tears were threatening to form.

“Had I not told you to come home, you would’ve stayed longer and I know for a fact you two would’ve started a little fling.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you say as your vision is blurry. You storm out. You shut the door to the bathroom as you sat on the floor with your back against the door.

Your knees were to your chest as you silently sob, mostly due to frustration.

It was as if you two didn’t know each other at all. It was like two strangers in the home. He slept on the couch. It was like that.

“I’m sure…You two will get back.” Bella says quietly.

“I don’t even know…He’s acting stupidly possessive.” you grit out as you threw a seashell in the ocean.

“The message was nice…He will get over it.”

She didn’t know. She didn’t live with him. But you still give her a silent thanks for her trying to support.

You blinked awake as you were used to waking up alone for the past two weeks.

As you showered, your mind wondered why you two were always butting heads. After all, he was your soulmate and it was as if fights were just easy to collect.

Paul came in while you were sitting on the couch with a book. He was heading for the hallway.

“Can we talk?” you ask him.

He opens the hallway closet and grabs a towel.

“About what?”

“Come on, don’t act like a kid.”

“Take your own advice.” he throws back. You glare up at the ceiling before calming yourself down.

“What we’re doing is toxic. We’re always fighting. I just want us to get along.” you carefully say, trying to be the bigger person.

“I want us to get along too. Which is why I don’t get why you’re trying to hold onto old shit that happened a long time ago.” he says and sets the towel in the bathroom.

“You brought up Edward and New York.” you scoff.

“You brought up me and Leah.”

“That’s not fair and you know it. It’s apples to oranges.” you say with frustration.

“Okay.”

“Okay…So..What?” you ask him, not knowing what’s next.

“We talked.”

You move off of the couch as he started walking. You grab his arm to get him to turn around. He peered down at you.

“Say you’re sorry.” you tell him.

He sniggered. You felt yourself get angry. So angry you wanted to slap the smile off of his face.

“For what?”

You step back.

“You know what?… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. In fact, I give you my deepest apologies.” you tell him calmly. He looked confused.

You slid your ring off.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

You set it on the coffee table.

He barked out your name.

“This isn’t healthy…I said yes to the loving, caring, secure Paul…. Not whatever this is.” you say.

“Put it back on.”

“I will, when things between us get better. We’re not even married yet and you’re sleeping on the couch like we’re about to sign divorce papers.”

“Fuck…Fuck. I’m sorry! Okay?”

You pick your book from the couch and he grabbed your arm as you tried to leave to another room.

“Let go of me, Paul.” you say in defeat.

“No.” he says.

You look at him.

“No. I want to marry you, Y/N. I’m sorry if I’m being an asshole. Okay, I admit I was being an ass but this…This isn’t worth it, okay?”

You look down for a moment.

“Just please put it back on. You don’t have to talk to me ever again. You can scream that you hate me all you want. Just please put it back on…Please?”

He extends his arm to swipe it up in his hand. He takes your hand and you watch as he slid it back to where it belonged. His hand actually shook which made you freeze.

“Do you even believe me?” you ask him quietly.

“Of course I do. Just ignore me being annoying, alright?”

“You’re very annoying.” you say softly. He looked up at your soft smile and softened his anxious face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” you say quietly.

He lets your arm go. You walk away and entered your art space with the close of your door.

You don’t make anything. You instead rest your head in your hands.

“How did everything become so hard?” you asked in your mind.

Paul opened the door when it was late, you were asleep at your desk with your head down.

Trying his best to not wake you, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bedroom.

It was the best sleep of your life as you both slept pressed together. Little did you know, it was the best sleep of his life as well.

You woke up with a gasp. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to have clarity in your brain. You look down with a sigh and it was the most erotic scene you’ve ever seen.

Your head fell back into the pillows as Paul opened your legs wider and you clutch onto his head. Your eyes squeezed shut as you shuddered with a blinding light behind your eyes.

You both sat in the car as you squinted from the morning sun. You held a donut to his mouth as he took a bite that made you widen your eyes with a genuine giggle.

He chewed and you blink. It was weird. You looked through the windshield of the car, peering into the empty parking lot as you wanted to draw fish. The sky had a great blue. You immediately thought of the ocean.

You slump next to him and he had just swallowed.

A burst of bubbles warmth was in the presence of just him. Reaching over with a thumb and slowly graced the poked tongue that slowly made its way out of your mouth on the left over powder.

You sit back as you didn’t know what made you do such thing, only to find him with a lax grin.

He tilts his head back as he leans to tease your mouth with his. You leaned trying to catch his lips but they moved with his movements of not fully capturing yours.

You eventually break into a smile before leaning back into your seat.

Coming home, he seemed to not forget what you did in the car.

You try to lounge on the couch only for him to pull you in a kiss after sitting down next to you. The heated energy went right to your core as you couldn’t help but hook your leg to rest it a bit on his knee as he held your head to continue eating at your mouth.

You both connect on the couch as you both move your naked hips in sync. You squeezed your eyes shut a for a second as your body moved forward and swallowed all of him. Paul groaned deeply as he held your body as he moved his hips. He lost track of what was what. You couldn’t even think beyond the intense emotion of each other’s bodies molding together.

You both weren’t even kissing, but you both sighed out in each other’s mouths.

You climb off of him as he lifts you up in his arms.

Your hands fall onto the bed as he hovered over you and kissed your back and your shoulder blade. He nudged you onto the bed. As you turn and lay on your back, he opened your legs as you look up at him.

You whisper out his name as he started to grow again. His touches seemed to be amplified with desire. The desire licked the deepest parts of you.

He pulled back from the sensual kiss that smacked off of your mouth, he rubbed himself to get hard again against the white spilled substance that was between your legs.

The extra lubrication was making it hard to stop the erotic noises from spilling out of your mouth.

Paul had never experienced something so moist in his life. His hips lazily thrust as your body screamed in satisfactory tingles.

Bella smirked at the joined hands as you both walked into Emily’s.

You join her at the couch with a smile.

“Where’s Jacob?”

“He’s coming with Sam.”

“Alright, I’m off.” Paul tells you and mushed his lips to yours before leaving once Sam and Jacob entered the door.

You and Bella chill in Jacob’s garage as he tinkered on Bella bike.

It was acting like it didn’t want to start.

You sketch out the idea you had while Bella and Jacob fell into conversation.

The passion project made you feel excited because you haven’t made anything for yourself in such a long time.

Paul was worried when you locked yourself in the room but a couple of hours passed before you come out, fingers covered in pigmented paint.

He watched you wash your hands in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him.

“Nothing…Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” you answer and then he saw your smile. You touch his arm.

“Come look.” you encourage him and he follows you into the room.

He was pleased to see the window open.

The picture was vibrant and he moved toward it. He picks it up carefully with such interest.

“Careful. It’s not dry yet.” you say. He nods as he looks at it.

“Who is this for?” he says. He smiled as he held it up with such admiration but delicately.

“No one.” you say shyly but he managed to kiss it away.

“Can I have it?” he asks excitedly.

You nod meekly. He gives you a handsome smile.

“I love this..I love you.”

“I love you too.” you say feeling a burst of warmth inside.

You breathe out trying to be steady but it was hard because your back was pressed against Paul’s chest.

“Thank you.” he says in your neck.

“It’s just a painting.” you say with a light chuckle.

“Yeah but it’s your painting.” he says.

You wake up the next morning and see that Jacob texted you that Bella’s bike was fixed and invited you to ride with them.

You held onto the wall with one hand as you tried to get ready. You felt dizzy. Paul placed a kiss on your neck. His hands are covering you.

You’re lightheaded as you blink and your vision is spotty. You rush to the bathroom.

He heard you emptying your insides as you gagged into the toilet. He knocked with one finger knuckle.

“Y/N…Are you alright?” he asked through the closed door with deep concern. You gagged again. You cough.

“I’m okay.” you say while straining as you flush the toilet.

You clean your mouth and you shiver as you enter the bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Paul asks as he rubbed your arms.

You nod and clear your throat.

“I just need to lay down.” you say with your heart beating. You pull back the covers.

“I can take you to the doctors.” he says.

“Paul, don’t overreact. I’m fine. I promise I will tell you if I feel worse.”

He looked at you as you hurriedly stripped off your clothes. You’re under the covers, feeling extremely tired.

The bed felt like heaven. Paul was pulled in as he looked down at you. He was soon joining you in bed, not caring you weren’t feeling well.

He makes you lay on his chest instead of the pillows. Sleep claimed you fast.

Birds chirped as you look at Paul leaned against a tree. You look and find yourself sitting criss cross in front of him.

”I’m not ready.”

He gave a look of betrayal.

You wait for him to say something.

”What if I am?”

You blink at the sky.

“Paul.” you say. You look at him. He staring at you intently.

“A lot…And I mean a lot goes on with this.”

“I know that…..” he says in a tone that let you know he was offended that you felt he didn’t already know that.

“I can’t…I can’t keep it.”

You look to Paul’s expression as he speaks out, “Y/N.”

You continue to look at him.

“You’re the only person I want to experience this with.” he says. You stand up. He looks up at you trying to convince you.

“We can…Just not now.”

He gives a look of defeat and he then shakes his head.

“Why do our blessings have to wait?” he asked in frustration.

“I’m not ready!”

You blink awake as Paul shook you gently.

“I made you something to eat.” he whispered in your ear.

“O-okay.” you whispered back.

You were petrified as you sat up in bed.

You held your head as he held your hand and sat down at the table.

He put two white pills on the table.

You say a quiet thank you and you swallow them.

”You slept all day yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” you ask after you swallow your food.

“Yeah. Slept the whole day away.” he says as he eats.

You sat back in your chair.

You look on the table and rise up.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I need my phone.”

“Well, can you eat first?”

You sit back down. He just stared at you.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Besides my head, my stomach doesn’t feel nauseous anymore.” you say carefully.

He shooed you off from washing the dishes. You sit down in the living room. You don’t move. You instead just listen intently at the actions of dishes being washed.

The water turns off and he walked in, you raise your head.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Must’ve been some nasty bug.” he comments.

“Yeah..Thanks for nursing me back to health.” you say quietly.

He bends at kisses your forehead. He sits next to you and you’re lifting into his lap.

You apologize to Jacob for not coming but he knew from Paul that you were sick.

When you were feeling better, Leah invited you over.

As Leah talk, you took a big rip at the tall glass bong that sat on your lips. Your mind wouldn’t stop eating at you as you didn’t know how you would ever tell Paul what you were dreaming about. It seemed so real.

You didn’t panic just yet, your period was coming up soon. You found yourself praying inside as you genuinely hoped you didn’t get late.

It seemed too serious.

You knew you were getting older, but you felt it was the solidarity of becoming an adult adult. It was a hearty piece of responsibility.

“Stop hogging it, greedy.” Leah says and snatches it away.

“What the heck are you even watching?” you ask to change your mindset as the low volume movie showed shenanigans that didn’t make sense.

“Ah, it’s watching me.” she corrects you as the light smoke mixed with the dust of the room.

Walking home felt like you were walking on a cloud. You hated thinking too much so you were grateful for the walk.

You laugh as you both came home at the same time. He flings an arm around you and pushed the front door open.

Over dinner, he tells you to promise not to say anything.

“What happened this time?” you ask.

“Just chill from Leah right now.” he tells you.

“Why?” you ask.

“Sam doesn’t want Leah to know.”

“I’m not gonna say anything. Come on.” you start to grin.

“I don’t trust it. Just please.” he then tilts his head even more, “Please.”

It makes you chuckle.

“Okay. Fine.”

He then relaxed and just extends his arms some and there was a sign of acceptance while he said the next thing.

“Emily’s pregnant.”

“Whoa.” you breathed out. Good or bad, you didn’t know.

You lean forward and so does he.

You both look at each other and you both see the questions that you both were dying to ask.

“Is she happy?” you ask.

“Yeah. But feeling guilty.” Paul admits.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She told no one. Sam let it slip when I patrolled with him earlier.”

“Is..He happy?”

“He’s through the roof.” he says quietly but with a grin.

“Hopefully I get to be the godmother.” you say with a grin.

He huff out a small chuckle.

You look down from his eyes as you then lean back in your chair.

“I know that before, you said you didn’t know….But what would you do? If you had found out…That you were pregnant?”

You let out a quiet breath as you don’t even dare to look at him. The way he said the word pregnant made you feel a lick of excitement.

“I-I still don’t know.” you whisper. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. It made you peak up due to his silence. It was as if he was waiting for you to look at him.

“You would look so pretty pregnant.” he comments quietly. It was tender, almost like a purr.

“Paul.” you say nervously. You shouldn’t have peaked up at him. His look was darkly heated but it was subtle. He was dead serious.

“What? You would.”

You look down again with nervous chuckle as you slightly shake your head.

“Are you sure you want to take on the dad bod?” you say to joke around but it still came out shaky.

He still gives you a hum of amusement. It made your heart stutter.

“It’s a lot of responsibility.” you whisper.

“So is shape shifting.” he says tenderly.

You both blink at each other. You then nervously chuckle. He leans close to you, forming his own smile, “What?”

“Nothing.” you say shyly to him.

“It’s something.” he encouraged.

You look down.

“I had a dream.”

“About…What?” he asks.

“Us..”

“Did I look okay?”

You crack a smile.

“You did..But…We were talking ..Like this and..We found out I was…”

“Were we happy?” he asks as he caught the idea.

“You were ready….Me..Not so much..”

He doesn’t say anything as he then looks down. It wasn’t in disappointment, it was as if he was thinking about what you said.

The night fell and you yawned as you lie down in bed.

His hand was so hot. To him, you felt like a walking piece of heaven. He was surprised when you take his hand away from your warm and moist center.

“I’m..Tired..” you whisper and you place a peck on his lips.

“I’m not.” he whispers. He brushed a thumb on your bottom lip and gave you a kiss that made you feel shaky.

You breathe out heavy before you pull away from the suction of his lips. You don’t have time to process the loss of his lips when you fall back onto your elbows, you look at him when your mouth crack slightly open.

Your underwear was bawled up in his hand.

“Paul.” you only say in a breathy tone.

He only glides his hands up, your hips only shift a bit as your eyes fluttered closed. His hands were talented as they caressed your chest and slow burned a kiss with you. A shaky and light sound danced out of your throat that muffled into his mouth.

“Let’s just lay together.” he whispered finally.

You slowly blinked open your eyes as he invited you next to him. Before you lie down on your side, he finished lifting your shirt up from behind.

He placed a hand on your side as he smoothed his hand out. He placed an intimate kiss on your back. It made you jerk a bit from the sensation.

You closed your eyes. You felt the small shifts of movements of his body. Mostly because of him breathing. You knew that he was awake. You realized, that right in his presence was just as good as sex. You didn’t want to go to sleep then.

You wanted to savor more moments like that. His hand shifted to your stomach, it felt like butterflies were soaring in your stomach. It was like you were having a crush on him all over again.

The breath of his slowed breathing is what keeps you awake. It drifted on the surface of your neck as you blinked at the darkness. You found yourself counting his breathing.

[librababe99]

Between Two Flames

cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, smut with plot, set during first two X- men movies, Fem!Reader, Logan/F!Reader/Scott, cunnilingus, fingering, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all!) Word count: 3.8K 

A/N: I decided to have a little “Challengers” moment but besides that I’m a sucker for a love triangle—I hope y’all enjoy this!  As always comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

(marvel masterlist)

In the soft glow of the X-Mansion, you could feel the weight of their gazes, both so intense, yet so different in how they pinned you to the spot. Logan’s dark, smoldering eyes watched you with an animalistic hunger, while Scott’s visor hid his eyes. You could feel the intensity radiating from him, a more controlled but equally desperate need simmering beneath his calm exterior. They had both wanted you for as long as you could remember, and the tension between the three of you had been brewing just beneath the surface, ready to explode. 

It wasn't a secret anymore. The way Logan’s voice would drop an octave when he spoke to you, how his hand lingered on your lower back for a second too long. The way Scott, ever the gentleman, would make excuses to be near you, brushing your hair from your face, his fingers barely grazing your skin, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched.

You were caught between them, two powerful, extraordinary men who couldn’t be more different, but somehow both managed to make your pulse race with equal intensity. And tonight… you’d decided it was time. Time to take control. Time to stop letting them circle you like predators ready to pounce. You weren’t going to choose because, deep down, you didn’t want to. You wanted them both. And you knew they wanted you too.

The air in your room felt thick, electric with anticipation as you stood between them, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Logan, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, was tense, his jaw clenched as if he was barely holding himself back. His shirt clung to his broad chest, muscles rippling beneath the fabric, his very presence an intoxicating mix of danger and raw masculinity. Scott stood at the opposite side of the room, more controlled, but his hands fidgeted at his sides, betraying his calm façade. The tension between them was palpable, years of rivalry over you culminating in this very moment.

“I’m tired of watching you two dance around each other,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. You looked between them, feeling the weight of your decision. “I want you both. No more games. No more competition. If you want me, you’re going to have to learn to share.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, a low growl escaping his throat as he pushed himself off the wall. “You serious, sweetheart’? You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

Scott shifted his stance, his gaze flickering between you and Logan. He hadn’t expected this, but the way his lips parted and his chest rose and fell with deeper breaths told you he wasn’t about to object.

“I’ve never been more serious,” you replied, your voice laced with desire. “And if either of you doesn’t want this… you can leave now.”

Neither of them moved.

Logan took a step forward, his hand reaching for you, the heat of his touch sending shivers down your spine. His fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you closer to him until your chest was pressed against his solid frame. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot on your skin, sending a wave of heat straight to your core.

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, your lips parting in a soft sigh. “I didn’t think you would.”

Behind you, you could feel Scott approaching, his presence cool and steady. He came up behind you, his breath warm against the back of your neck as his hands settled on your hips. His touch was softer, more hesitant than Logan’s, but the desire that pulsed through his fingertips was just as strong.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Scott whispered, his voice strained with barely contained need. “But this… are you sure?”

You turned your head slightly, catching his gaze from the corner of your eye. “I’m sure, Scott. I want this. I want both of you.”

With that, the dam finally broke. Logan’s lips crashed against yours, demanding and rough, while Scott’s hands roamed your body, his touch igniting a different kind of fire. Logan’s hands tangled in your hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth in a way that was unmistakably possessive. Behind you, Scott’s lips found the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he kissed a trail down to your shoulder, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.

The sensations were overwhelming, two sets of hands exploring you, two mouths leaving trails of heat and want in their wake. Your head spun, but you reveled in the feeling, letting the pleasure wash over you in waves.

Logan’s hands slid down your back, gripping your ass with a possessive squeeze before lifting you effortlessly off the ground, carrying you towards the bed. He laid you down gently, his eyes dark with lust as he leaned over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Scott followed, his hands never leaving your body, his touch grounding you in the midst of the storm that was Logan’s intensity.

They worked in tandem, their rivalry momentarily set aside as they focused entirely on you. Logan stripped away your clothes with an almost feral need, while Scott’s hands caressed every inch of bare skin revealed, his touch softer, more teasing in contrast to Logan’s roughness. You moaned softly, the mix of their attention driving you to the edge.

Logan’s mouth claimed your breasts, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples while Scott’s lips found the inside of your thigh, his breath warm against your skin as he kissed his way up, his fingers brushing against your most intimate spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed, your fingers tangling in the sheets as pleasure coursed through you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Scott murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pressed a kiss just below your navel. His fingers moved against you, slow, deliberate strokes that had your body trembling with need.

Logan growled low in his throat, his lips trailing up your body until his mouth was on yours again, his kiss hard and consuming. “She’s mine, Summers,” he muttered against your lips, though there was no malice in his voice, just the deep, primal need to claim you.

“She’s ours tonight,” Scott corrected, his eyes meeting Logan’s with a silent agreement.

Logan’s lips were fierce, his kiss a burning force that left no room for hesitation. His hands, rough and calloused, ran over your bare skin with an urgency that sent shivers racing down your spine. Every touch from him was primal, raw, as if he was claiming you in every way he could. He growled low in his throat, the deep sound reverberating against your lips as he kissed you with wild intensity, his body pressed firmly against yours.

His mouth trailed from your lips, leaving a hot path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he nipped at the sensitive spots that made you gasp. The heat of his breath against your throat had your pulse quickening, and you could feel the hard, solid strength of his body pressing into yours, his muscles taut with the need to take what he had wanted for so long.

Logan’s hands roamed lower, fingers gripping your waist, pulling your hips against his as his mouth traveled further down. His lips found your breasts, and he took one hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he sucked it gently, then harder, pulling soft moans from your lips.

Behind you, Scott was just as relentless, though his touch was more controlled, his need more restrained. His hands explored the curves of your body, his fingers brushing softly over your skin, contrasting Logan’s roughness. His lips found the nape of your neck, and the sensation of his warm breath there made you arch your back, pressing yourself further into Logan's mouth.

Scott kissed his way down your spine, his mouth hot against your skin, his hands trailing down your hips. His fingers traced the inside of your thighs, parting them slowly, teasingly, until his hand found the slick heat between your legs. His touch was soft at first, gentle, as if he was savoring every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

Logan growled again, his mouth leaving your breast with a wet pop as he glanced at Scott. “She’s ready for us,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, laced with barely controlled desire.

Scott didn’t respond, but you felt his fingers move more deliberately, sliding through your wetness with slow, deliberate strokes. He circled your clit with agonizing precision, drawing a moan from deep within you. Your body tensed, hips instinctively bucking against his hand, needing more, and yet he took his time, teasing you, building the pleasure until it was almost unbearable.

“Scott,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the sensations overwhelmed you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered softly, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers continued their rhythm, rubbing slow circles over your sensitive nub before slipping lower, pressing inside you. The feeling of his fingers stretching you, filling you, was almost too much as he worked you with practiced ease, his touch confident yet gentle, driving you to the edge.

Logan’s hands were on your hips now, lifting them slightly as he positioned himself between your legs. He was watching Scott’s fingers move, his eyes dark with lust. “Fuck, she’s so wet,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him as he leaned down, his tongue flicking out to join Scott’s fingers.

The sensation was overwhelming, Logan’s mouth hot and demanding as his tongue licked a slow, sensual stripe over your clit, swirling around it with a skill that had you crying out in pleasure. Scott’s fingers moved in tandem with Logan’s mouth, thrusting in and out of you, stretching you as his thumb pressed against your swollen nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Your hands tangled in the sheets, your hips bucking uncontrollably as they worked together, pushing you higher and higher. Logan’s mouth was relentless, his tongue circling your clit before he sucked it into his mouth, his growls vibrating through your body, the sensation almost too much to bear. Scott’s fingers continued their steady rhythm inside you, the pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you were about to shatter.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you begged for release, the pleasure teetering on the brink of being too much.

Logan’s eyes flicked up to meet Scott’s, a silent agreement passing between them. Logan’s mouth left your clit for just a moment, and then he gave you exactly what you needed, his tongue flicking rapidly over your swollen nub while Scott’s fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that had you crying out, your body trembling violently as pleasure surged through every nerve. Your hips jerked uncontrollably, your legs shaking as Logan’s mouth and Scott’s fingers didn’t stop, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you were panting, breathless, completely undone beneath them.

Logan growled in satisfaction as he finally pulled away, his mouth slick with your wetness, his eyes dark and predatory as he looked down at you. Scott slowly withdrew his fingers, his hand resting on your thigh as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your back.

“You’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Logan rumbled, his voice low and husky as he moved over you, his body pressing you into the mattress. You could feel the hard length of him against your thigh, and your body responded immediately, desire flaring hot and fast once again.

Scott’s hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he positioned himself behind you, his chest pressed against your back. “Let us take care of you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he kissed the side of your neck, his fingers intertwining with Logan’s as they both prepared to claim you fully.

The air in the room was thick, humming with tension, the weight of desire almost palpable as both men converged on you. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared hunger that had been building for far too long, now unleashed with an intensity that left you trembling beneath their combined focus. The need to possess, to ravage, was clear in every movement, and you could feel it in the way their eyes devoured you, their bodies pressing against you, ready to take what they’d been craving for so long.

Logan hovered above you like a predator, his muscular form caging you in, every inch of him radiating heat and power. His dark eyes burned with lust, flicking over your face as his chest heaved, his body vibrating with restrained energy. His cock, hard and throbbing, pressed insistently against your thigh, the tension in him evident as he growled low in his throat, his voice rough and gravelly with want.

“Goddamn, you’ve no idea what you do to me,” he rasped, his lips curled in a feral smirk as he teased you, letting the head of his cock slide against your slick entrance, not yet entering, only heightening the delicious ache inside you. His gaze, heated and unrelenting, watched your every twitch, every moan, drinking in the sight of your body arching beneath him in anticipation.

Behind you, Scott was a steady presence, his warm breath brushing against the back of your neck as his hands held your hips, steadying you. His body, firm and solid, pressed against your back, his cock, hard and leaking, sliding between the curves of your ass. His control was fragile, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he ground himself against you, savoring the way you writhed under the weight of both their attention.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Scott murmured, his voice low, thick with need as his lips ghosted over your ear, sending shivers racing down your spine. The quiet, desperate confession stirred something deep inside you, his words full of longing as he pressed himself harder against you. His hands tightened on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself to the moment.

The tension in the room swelled, and Logan, never one for patience, shot a glance at Scott, a silent challenge that passed between them before he took what he wanted. With one powerful thrust, Logan pushed inside you, his cock sinking deep, stretching you wide. The sensation hit you like a wave, a sharp, intense pleasure mixed with just enough pain to leave you gasping, your body trembling as you cried out.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Logan growled, his voice gravelly, strained as he pulled out slowly, only to slam back into you with a force that made you see stars. He wasn’t gentle—Logan never was—but there was something intoxicating about the way he moved, his cock filling you completely with every brutal thrust, claiming you in a way that was as primal as it was electric.

Scott groaned behind you, his body tense with barely restrained desire as he watched Logan take you. “You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as his cock slid against your slick skin, aching for release. He shifted, positioning himself behind you, his hands steady as he lined himself up, his cock nudging at your tight entrance, teasing the sensitive ring of muscle.

Logan slowed his thrusts, his movements deliberate now as his eyes locked on yours, his expression raw, filled with lust and possessiveness. He reached down, brushing the damp hair from your forehead, his thumb grazing your cheek as he rasped, “You want this, baby’? Tell us. Tell us you need both of us.”

Your breath hitched, the intensity of their combined presence overwhelming, but you couldn’t deny the deep, aching need inside you. “I want it,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desire, your body arching toward them, desperate for more. “I want both of you.”

At your words, Scott pressed forward, his cock slowly stretching you as he pushed deeper, the burn intense but delicious. He was careful, deliberate, giving you time to adjust as he inched his way inside, filling you until you could feel both of them, thick and hard, stretching you to your limits. The sensation of being taken by both of them at once—Logan’s cock buried deep in your pussy while Scott’s filled your ass—was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and pressure that made your head spin.

For a moment, the room was still, the air heavy with the sound of their ragged breathing, both men deep inside you, their bodies taut with the effort of holding back. Then Logan moved, his hips pulling back before slamming forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air. The force of his thrusts pushed you further into Scott, who matched his pace, both of them moving in perfect sync, driving into you with relentless precision.

The sensation was beyond anything you’d ever felt—Logan’s rough, powerful thrusts combined with Scott’s slower, more controlled movements, both of them working together to push you higher, to drive you to the edge. Every nerve in your body was on fire, your senses overwhelmed as they claimed you, their bodies moving in perfect tandem, the heat between you building with every thrust.

Scott’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you from behind, his cock driving deep, the friction exquisite as Logan continued to pound into you from the front. The feeling of being filled so completely, stretched by both of them, was too much—it was everything. Your body was trembling, overwhelmed with pleasure as they pushed you closer and closer to the brink.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Scott groaned, his voice thick with need as he thrust into you harder, his pace quickening as his control began to slip. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Logan growled in response, his movements becoming more erratic, his grip on your thighs tightening as he slammed into you with renewed intensity. “Fuck… you’re gonna come for us, sweet girl’,” he rasped, his voice strained as he pounded into you, driving you toward the release that was quickly spiraling out of control inside you.

Your body was trembling, every muscle tensing as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. You could feel the heat coiling low in your belly, the sensation of both men inside you pushing you to the edge, their combined rhythm relentless, pushing you higher and higher until—

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, crashing with an intensity that left you gasping for breath, your body shaking violently as pleasure surged through every nerve. You cried out, your body arching between them, completely undone as they continued to thrust into you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left trembling, utterly spent.

Both Logan and Scott continued their relentless pace, driving you deeper into that overwhelming pleasure. Your body tightened around them, and their groans filled the room, the sound of their need mingling with the thrum of your release. Logan’s pace became erratic, his grip on your hips bruising as he buried himself inside you with a final, powerful thrust.

“Fuck—” he growled, his voice rough as his cock pulsed deep within you, releasing his hot, thick seed. His muscles tensed, his breath ragged as he shuddered above you, his climax leaving him, but still gripping you with an unyielding possessiveness. He lingered, breath warm against your skin, before pulling out slowly, his release still slick between your thighs.

Scott, still buried in you, was close behind. He gripped your waist harder, his thrusts losing rhythm as he chased his own end, his body trembling against yours. His cock twitched inside you, and with a low, desperate groan, he came, his release filling you. His hips stilled, pressed against you as he breathed heavily, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your collective breaths, heavy and uneven as the intensity of what had just happened settled in. Your body was exhausted, thoroughly claimed by both men, and you couldn’t help but smile, your heart still racing from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Scott slipped out of you, his hands gently brushing your waist as he lay beside you, his body warm and spent. Logan followed suit, rolling onto the other side of you, his arm possessively draped over your waist. The two men, who had been rivals moments ago, now lay beside you, their bodies close, their breathing slowing as the intensity ebbed away.

“You okay, baby’?” Logan murmured, his rough voice soft as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his thumb brushing lazily over your hip.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak, but the contentment in your expression said enough. You were more than okay—you were completely satisfied, your body and mind still buzzing from the pleasure they had given you.

Scott leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “That was… incredible.” His voice was filled with wonder, as if he still couldn’t quite believe what had just transpired between the three of you.

You let out a soft laugh, your eyelids heavy as you nestled between them. “It was more than that,” you whispered, your voice sleepy but full of warmth. “It was perfect.”

In the quiet aftermath, with Logan’s steady presence on one side and Scott’s gentle touch on the other, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. You had wanted them both, and now, you’d had them—every inch, every moment, exactly as you had imagined.

Sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness, but before you drifted off, you felt the two men shift closer, their bodies warm and protective against yours. In that moment, you realized that this was no longer a rivalry. They had both claimed you, yes, but they had also shared something deeper—something that could only exist between the three of you.

[benz12313]

Delirium - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You and Ridoc have been dancing around each other for months, just on the cusp of becoming something more. All it takes is a rough week and a bit of liquor to have you become putty in his hands, and he's been dying for the chance to carry you to his bed. Too bad you guys don't quiiite make it there, at least this time... ;) [Takes place during Iron Flame]

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, thigh riding, hinting at feelings, swearing, fem!reader, drunkenness/alcohol use

Part 2/3 - Part 3/3

Authors Note: I am absolutely living for goofy, sexy Ridoc in this fic. Is this totally a self-serving fic? Absolutely. Do I still hope you enjoy it? Also absolutely. This is my first attempt at smut so bare with me, I'm easing into it. Also I got a little carried away, and will have to break this into three parts...sssooorrry.

Word Count: 2,093

Alcohol coarsed in my veins, the music in the bar was blaring, and my friend’s bodies pressed in on me. Rhiannon and Tara danced in front of me, bumping into me occasionally, yet obviously lost in each other. Sawyer was close too, nursing a beer and dancing with his eyes closed, probably imagining Jesinia by his side. And then Ridoc… Ridoc was behind me, one hand resting seemingly innocently on my waist, setting my entire body aflame. 

Maybe it was the pressure of looming change. Maybe it was the grueling week of classes. Maybe it was the math test I’d failed. Maybe it was the sore muscles from Fayla pushing me during flight maneuvers. All I knew was that when I’d entered the bar that night, my mission was to release every ounce of tension in my body, get absolutely tanked, find someone to warm my bed, and absolutely lose myself to the night. 

And who had been so achingly close to me all night? Who’d been shooting flirty winks and sultry smiles the moment our friends would glance away? Who’s hands had been roaming my thighs under the table as I’d been forced to sit on his lap so all our friends could fit into the booth and socialize? Hands that had pulled and massaged and pinched; but never moving to where I so desperately wanted him to? Always so close to crossing that line, but never quite taking the plunge.  

Ridoc fucking Gamlyn. That’s who. 

The man I’d been dancing around for weeks, toeing dangerously between friends and bedmates. Countless study sessions where he’d huddle a little too closely while leaning over my shoulder. Mouth dangerously close to my neck as he’d stare at my notes, feigning idiocy when we both knew he was much smarter than he let on. Or on the mat, when I’d get him pinned, dagger pressed to his throat, my own aching for air but so deliciously proud of myself as his eyes would be glued to my rapidly rising and falling chest, letting out a garbled “I yield.” as I’d feel him stiffen below me. 

My personal favorite was just a few days ago, when I’d run into him after he’d just finished showering after a long training session with the rest of the squad.

His curls sticking to his forehead, still dripping, the beads of water trailing down his chest. I shamelessly watched them go down his sculpted abs, silently reminding myself to thank Dane for all the extra training sessions he’d been ordering lately, because it was obviously doing wonders for Ridoc. I’d been just about to drop to my knees and lick them off myself, and then maybe, maybe get a peak at what he was hiding under those gray sweats, when Sawyer had come around the corner, calling after Ridoc to wait up. He hadn’t even seen me, but my eyes flashed to Ridoc’s, and he’d given me a sultry smile, exactly like the ones he’d shoot his conquests before dragging them into his room. “Looks like we’ll have to wait some other time Princess.” He’d muttered just loud enough for me to hear before Sawyer saw me, and I innocently waved them off, heading to the showers like I’d originally planned. It didn’t matter how deftly my fingers worked beneath the steaming water, the orgasm that followed fell flat, my body coiled and aching for Ridoc. 

Gods, Ridoc had taken up way too many of my frustrated fantasies lately. Much more than any friend should. 

“Hey Princess, want more shots?” His voice was rough and low, breath fanning on my ear, his hand flexing on my waist, the pressure of his giant hand so deliciously grounding amongst the crowd and music. 

“Fuck yes!” I called back, turning in his arms and playfully pushing his chest back, towards where the bar awaited us. 

He grinned widely down at me, before removing his hand from my waist, using it to grab the hand that still rested on his chest, threading our fingers together as he shot me a wink. He turned without warning, making a path through the crowd, which I eagerly followed him through. In moments or minutes, I was too drunk to tell, we’d made it to the crowded bar and Ridoc pulled me closer to him, my hands now braced to his chest as he pushed forward, trapping me between him and the bar. 

“Same as before Y/L/N?” He shot the question down to me, eyes following the bartender as he took the orders from those around us. 

I reached onto my tiptoes, the corner of my mouth brushing his jaw, mostly unintentionally as I lightly swayed. “Yes please.” I said sweetly and he gulped, my eyes flashing to his adams apple as it bobbed, suddenly stopping myself from running my tongue across his entire damn throat. 

His hands tightened on my waist, jerking me closer to him, “If you don’t stop looking at me like that Y/N,” His voice a downright growl, making me instantly soaked, “We won’t make it to my room tonight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the bar Sawyer, Violet, Rhiannon, Tara, and the first years all stared at Ridoc and you, practically eye-fucking each other as you downed another two shots. The two of you had had way too many to count already, the both of you clinging to each other, not only because you couldn’t seem to stop touching each other as the night trailed on, but because the two of you needed the other’s support to stand straight. 

“Should we…be stopping this?” Rhiannon asked the others as you giggled at something Ridoc had whispered in your ear, head flopping onto his shoulder, delight covering your face. 

“And put an end to their months of pining after each other? No way.” Violet grumbled. 

“Seriously.” Sawyer agreed, “If I have to hear about one more boner that Y/N has given Ridoc I’m going to have to chop off my own ears.” 

“Just let them get it out of their system,” Tara says, giving Rhiannon a quick peck on the lips. “Either they’ll be back to normal in the morning, or they’ll finally do something about their feelings. Either way, no need to butt in where we don’t belong.”

“I suppose,” The squad leader relented, but when she’d looked up to check on the two of you, you’d both disappeared from the bar. “How’d they move that fast?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ridoc..” My voice was nothing more than a breathy sigh as his eyes raked over me, his arms rested on either side of my head on the cold, hard wall of the back of the tavern. He groaned, hands balling into fists as he pressed his thigh between my legs, giving me delicious pressure that had me whimpering and sliding my hands under his loose black tee. Just utterly aching for my skin to touch his. He was burning to the touch, and the moment my fingertips touched his abs he groaned, head sinking to rest on my neck and his hands gripping my waist, roughly pulling me forward to grind my clothed core on his thigh some more. 

“Y/N,” he moaned out, tongue lazily tasting my collarbone, before his breaths shakily fanned across my neck. “Fuck, Princess, why do you smell so fucking good. Makes it impossible to-” I moaned loudly as I threw my head back, the constant pressure from his thigh making pleasure coil tighter and tighter in my tummy, and he let out the most tortured fucking groan. “Fuck that, why do those pretty little moans of yours have to drive me so fucking insane?”

“R-ridoc-“ I gasped out barely able to think (let alone speak) beyond the pleasure his thigh alone was giving me. It was too much yet not enough all at once, and he hadn’t even kissed me yet. Gods was I too fucking out of it to even tell him what I wanted? What I needed from him?

“Hmm?” He hummed at me, pulling back and eyes scanning my face before he grinned, teasing and lighthearted, as one hand moved to my head, threading into my loose hair. And then he was fisting it, pulling my head back to expose my throat as his eyes scanned my whimpering form, not needing his hands anymore as I desperately chased my high on his thigh. “Gods, I wish you could see yourself Y/N, looking so desperate and needy for me. Riding my thigh like you fucking own it.” I whined as he adjusted his leg, unintentionally bouncing me on it, and a wanton moan erupting out of me at the jolt of pleasure. He grinned maniacally. 

“Ohhhh,” he was teasing now as his mouth dropped to my throat, licking from collarbone to chin, groaning before pulling back and meeting my gaze with an intensity that nearly had me cumming then and there. “Is that what you wanted Baby? You wanted me to bounce your pretty little cunt on my thigh? Let the first time you cum for me be behind a fucking tavern, fully fucking clothed? Can’t even wait till we get back to Basgaith?”

“P-p-please.” I whispered, pleaded really, and his eyebrows raised, absolute delight covering his face as he froze for a moment before starting to slowly bounce his knee. 

“Well fuck Y/N, how the hell am I supposed to deny you when you ask so prettily?” Pleasure coursed through me, as I removed my hands from where they’d been desperately holding onto his torso. I threaded them into his soft locks, pulling him forward, or trying to as he was currently devouring my neck and collarbone, biting and sucking and surely leaving marks to remind us of everything we had done in the morning. As if I could ever forget any second of this. It didn’t matter how many drinks I had had, Ridoc had brought me past being drunk. He’d sent me into absolute delirium, where all that mattered were me, him, and my fast approaching orgasm. 

“Ridocccc” I whined, the coil in my stomach threatening to burst, “I want-“ I panted and he groaned. “Fuck! Will you fucking kiss me already?!” I finally burst out and he laughed, hollow and short, nipping across my jaw playfully. 

“Sure thing beautiful,” He tilted his head, and smashed his mouth to my own as sparks danced in my vision and that coil finally snapped, white light and stars blocking my sight as I let him absolutely consume me. I was shaking, and whining, with my fingers digging into his scalp as our tongues danced skillfully with each other and I pressed my entire body as close to his as I could get. Like we’d been here a thousand times and we were just settling in, coming home after being apart for millennium. 

As I came down from my high my movements slowed, drinking in the moment, as his hand left my hair, and slid gently back down to my waist. He gently set me down back on flat ground, everything spinning now that he wasn’t holding me steady. 

Our kisses slowed too, until he was just lightly pecking me, not really wanting to leave my mouth, not now that he had finally gotten to claim it for himself. He sighed, resting his forehead on mine, dorky grin spreading across his face and eyes shining with unfiltered male pride. “Ya know, I always knew you were secretly depraved, but I never imagined you’d be this fucking needy for me. What wouldn’t you let me do to you, sweet Y/N?”

“Hmm?” I teased, lightly tapping my chin, his eyes following every movement. “How about you get me to your room, and I show you, every, single, thing, I will let you do to me?”

“Fuck, alright.” He chuckles, “Gods, you’re perfect for me you know?” The confession was raw, and I could see the sentiment in his eyes, but my drunken self wasn’t ready to confront that right now, not when my need was beginning to cloud my reasoning again and liquor burned through my veins. 

“Get me back to your room Gamlyn, before we won’t be able to make it back without enlisting help. That’d be embarrassing.” I joked and he laughed, boisterous and loud and so perfectly him that it made my heart ache. 

“Yeah it would, Sawyer would really be sick of me then.” He laughed, stepping back and grabbing my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Lets go Princess, to my room we fly!”

[arabella0001]

❛say it when you're sober❜ (sasuke uchiha x reader)

✦ AU • slow burn • smut with plot ✦

✦ anime: naruto

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

synopsis: you don’t usually drink this much. don’t usually flirt. don’t usually end up pressed against a stranger at 3 a.m., skin hot and mind fuzzy. but naruto introduces you to two of his friends and somehow you go home with one of them. or maybe… he takes you. sasuke isn’t what you expected. he’s quiet. intense. and when the door shuts behind you—nothing about him feels accidental.

⚠️cn: alternate universe, smut with plot(bc i can't help myself), slow burn, strangers to lovers, original characters x naruto, alcohol intoxication, smoking, fluff, rough sex, oral, praising, light dom/sub.

Your voice stumbles, trembling from the orgasmic echoes still resonating through your body as Sasuke approaches you, his throbbing presence pushing against the fabric.

“D-do you want me to—”

Your hand tries to reach him but he grabs it and gently presses it down beside yours, on the pillow beneath your head.

“Don’t worry.”

He looks at you before his kisses begin on your neck, arousing you entirely, all the way down to your chest.

“Mmph—” You whimper as lips parting to suck at a sensitive spot and trailing all the way back until they reach your earlobe, whispering with a raspy voice.

“I want to make you feel good,” His hands slipping under your shirt, fondling the breast beneath the bra. “Good enough that you’ll remember this night over and over.”

“F-fuck—”

You let out a breathy, involuntary sound and with hands trembling, you try to get him out of his pants.

Your shame slips further and further away as you beg him to take them off. With a swift motion, he’s left only in his underwear. You drag your tongue across your lips, not even realizing as you take in the sight of him.

You can see how turned on he is just through the precum-stained fabric, and when your hands run slowly down his firm abdomen, it only makes him twitch more—especially when your hand can’t resist brushing over him through his briefs, tugging them down just enough to expose more of that delicious V at his waist.

He hisses before taking your parted mouth with his, his tongue finding yours in a heartbeat, pressing hungrily while neither of you can catch your breath—yet neither of you wants to stop. You speak against his lips between kisses.

“I want you so bad.”

You stop him, trying to tug your top off quickly. He helps you, pulling it over your head until you’re left in your bra—until you pull him back in and kiss him again.

He’s a little surprised when you lift yourself from the pillows, Sasuke letting you guide him until you straddle his lap.

You feel him smile against your mouth at your eagerness while his hands find the clasp of your bra. You barely let him undo it, already crashing your lips onto his, grinding down against him.

“I can see that.”

He murmurs softly as he guides your hips over him for some time and then he lays you back on the bed. Once he undresses completely, you feel him between your thighs, chasing his heat with your hips.

“P-please—”

His restraint shatters at your pleading, but he still can’t help but tauting you a little more.

“Yeah?”

You only feel him pressing onto your cli, driving you absolutely insane.

Besides what is happening, your thoughts sometimes brink you back to reality. You still can’t believe this is the same quiet guy from the club, but you’re not the only one who’s surprised.

“Y-yeah—”

He never thought this would happen when Naruto dragged him out that night, his eyes heavy from exhaustion after hours spent at the office, buried in story revisions and approvals. And definitely not that he’d end up in someone’s bed this fast.

But here he is, completely immersed in the way you make him feel. It scared him how fast all of that dissolved the second you kissed him first and how cute you are right now, struggling to breath beneath him, almost desperate to feel him.

And he’s just as desperate—especially when, finally, you feel him start to stretch you, and the relief of it makes him almost lose it right there.

“Fuck—”

A strained noise slips from his throat as he pushes deeper inside you, your mouths parted the whole time, eyes locked until he’s all the way in.

You can’t help but tighten around him, whining from the slight sting of his size—until he starts moving, and it hurts in a way that makes you crave more.

He scolds you with a low groan as he moves slowly but deeply.

“Don’t do that.”

“B-but you feel so good—”

He shuts you up with his mouth, thrusting deeper and deeper, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Tears streak down your cheeks, dissolving into the heat of his mouth. You feel completely full, feeling things you never have before.

“Sasuke, oh my—”

His breath flutters against your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you. His fingers reach your clit again, sensing your second orgasm building fast.

Your face is so expressive. He’s hypnotized by how much pleasure he’s giving you, written all of your face. Your voice breaking on his name every time he hits your sweet spot. But when his fingers begin to draw circles over your clit, it's enough to make your whole body tense and muscles spasming beneath him.

He whispers, his dark eyes soften while his hand never leaving your cheek.

“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. Let go for me again.”

You don’t know what made you come harder—his words, the overwhelming rhythm of his body, or the sheer intensity of how badly you want him.

Your legs shake uncontrollably, your orgasm throwing off his pace for a moment—but he recovers quickly, moving in you more unhurried now.

You wrap your legs tighter around him, drawing him in deeper. Tears burn on your flushed cheeks, your lips trembling as you try to speak.

“Sasuke, please do it. Please—”

With a few rougher thrusts, Sasuke pulls out just in time, spilling himself across your belly. The sounds he makes, the look on his face—they only make you want him more. You’re sure they’ll be marked into your mind forever: Sasuke with his head thrown back, stray black strands sticking to his face, mouth parted, and hand working himself through his big climax, showing just how good you made him feel.

Beautiful. You think the same of him.

The aftershock begins to dissolve as your mind clears and your cheeks flush deeper—but when Sasuke lifts his head, his eyes return to you.

A pause.

He leans down, brushing your lips with a soft kiss. Then he stands, walking out of the room to find the bathroom. You can’t stop your eyes from following his naked silhouette as it disappears down the hall.

Sasuke calls out from inside.

“Towels?”

It takes you a moment to answer, still dazed. “Above the sink. First drawer.”

You hear the water running—probably rinsing himself off—before he returns to the bed with a single purpose. His hands slide between your legs, the warm towel cleaning you up softly, making you whimper again before he wipes his release off your stomach.

He notices your gaze on him, unsure what to say after everything. Once he’s done, he climbs back into bed, pulling the blanket over both of you before wrapping you into his chest.

Your heart pounds hard, the noise of your thoughts deafening until his fingers begin stroking gently through your hair. The air is warm, sticky with sweat and something sweeter. A draft from the open window cools your skin, and the city buzz outside feels far away, like another world.

He watches as you turn your face away and curl into yourself, knowing he needs to say something. Your mind patterns aren’t that hard for him to read.

“You okay?”

You don’t trust your voice just yet.

“Yes.”

He keeps stroking your hair, but his eyes aren’t convinced.

“Then why are you hiding?”

“I’m not.”

He answers in a softer tone to your quick response.

“Look at me.”

You exhale slowly, raising your gaze to meet his, your hand resting on his chest.

He studies your face, trying to find some kind of answers.

“Do you regret this?”

You shake your head.

“This isn’t usually how I start things, but I do want to get to know you.” Your heart skips before he adds, “Obviously, only if you want that too.”

You can’t look at him anymore, your cheeks growing hotter as you turn your face away again.

“I want to.”

He lets out a small laugh, and your heart stumbles again.

“Naruto should’ve told me about you sooner.”

You stare blankly as your mind spirals.

“Why?”

“The same reason you wanted my attention tonight.”

You’re unsure of his intentions, but your silence prompts him to reassure you once more.

“For me at least, this isn’t just about sex.”

You glance back at him, eyes a little wide. You hate being misunderstood so at his words, relief start spreading through your chest.

“Not for me either.”

Sasuke gives you a faint smile, his hands trailing gently over your face, stroking you.

“Good.”

━━

“Now… about the book. What were you saying you’re reading?”

Your smile grows, and somehow your arms tighten around him unconsciously—as if your body and soul have already grown used to his presence while the two of you start to talk, to get to know each other. A frame that feels familiar and safe, that warms your heart more.

I can’t wait to call Reina and Hemari.

[nyxindustries]

Lock Down | Tony Stark

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Insert, T.S x Fem! Reader x Older x Younger Characters, Tony Stark x Y/n! Reader

Word Count: 2,000+

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, SMUT, Dom! Tony Stark,Sub! reader, Rough Sexual Intercourse, Explicit Language, brief smacking, ‘Daddy’ Name calling, semi-Slow burn (not really), Kinky Sex, Hair pulling, Scratching, Explicit Sexual read, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!)

| Masterlist |

Overriding the passcode to the lab since your lovely boyfriend Tony Stark officially locked himself in the lab because of stress with a new Iron Man suit.

The doors open to the lab as you step into the cold lab you see in the one single spotlight on above a hunched-over man on the table mumbling to himself as it looks like he’s trying to assemble part of a new Arc Reactor into the Iron Man suit with holograms all around him to help his work.

Setting down the tray of Tony’s favorite food on his desk that’s filled with little gadgets that you assume are new because you’ve never seen them before.

Quietly walking up to him as much as your heels allow as you stand behind him watching him build and solder a piece of metal together. It’s fascinating to you that Tony can get so lost in his work and look so beautiful while doing it, so laser-focused in his eyes with his eyebrows scrunched inward because he’s trying to make sense or putting together pieces of information in his mind, the wrinkles that appear on his forehead as his face goes relaxed.

Clearing your mind as you watch Tony's hand move to an object and your hand quickly covers the object as your free left hand snakes up his shoulder.

"Mhmm" Tony hums as he slowly looks at you and he places his hand on top of yours making you smile at him.

"Hi, how are you doing?" You ask gently and Tony gives you a look as his glasses tilt slightly.

"This Arc Reactor is not responding to the suit and I have no idea why…" Tony says quietly to you as you just nod knowing nothing about how all of this works. You're a SHIELD agent, you fight and try to save the world from aliens if possible.

"Anyways, it’s not your problem. What are you doing here?" Tony asks as he turns to you and you hand them the tray of food, which is two cheeseburgers and fries and onion rings.

"To Bring you your favorite food, thought you might need it. Put on a tray to be fancy" You joke with a weird mimic of an upper-class voice in the word ‘fancy’ making Tony smile but he doesn't laugh and he always laughs at your silliness or jokes. That's when you know he’s stressed as you watch him grab a cheeseburger and take a few quick bites as he shoves some of the fries in his mouth before turning around to the piece of the suit.

"…Tony…" you say but he goes back to soldering making you frown as you look around finding the plus as you quickly pull it out of the outlet making Tony instantly look up.

"What was that for?" Tony asks quickly as he reaches for the plug.

"Take a break! Eat something! Stop locking yourself in the lab!" You say him as you throw the plus across the room causing the soldering pen to fly across the table and fall off so Tony won’t touch it.

Tony giving you a wide-eyed look like he always does when he is stressed and when you decide to give him a break.

"Y/n-….Urghhhh" Tony groans out in frustration as he goes to get the tool but you quickly stop getting in between him and the table.

"No. Take a break." You say to him

"Make me! I need to finish this!" Tony says to you but you push him back.

"No, you’re not. Not today." You say and Tony stares at you.

"And who is going to stop me?" Tony asks and you smirk at him.

"I am, So take a break…" you say and Tony stares into your eyes as you stare back and your hands go to him.

"It will be good for you to clear your, Tone…" you say quietly as your hands slowly go underneath his shirt as he looks down at your hands.

"…y/n….I-I… I don’t have the time…I’m on a deadline." Tony says very quietly and you just chuckle.

"A deadline that’s next week…you have time and enough time to take out your frustrations too." You say as your hands skilled in what they do back off and come out of Tony's shirt as they pull your buttoned-up blouse out of pencil pencil-tight skirt, and start unbuttoning the buttons.

Tony watches you as you help you with buttons there and then until your breasts in a beautiful red lace bra are revealed.

"Take a break…it won’t be too bad." You say in the quietness that filled the air.

Tony's hands go to your waist as he lifts you to the lab table quickly. He takes one hand and clears the table with his arm by throwing everything off in one swoop with his arm, not caring about his work.

"You’re right, a break is what I need…Hey, Jarvis…Shut down the lab with soundproof…no one enters." Tony demands from his A. I just chime as the windows, doors, and glass all go dark and black with security screens from within the glass that Tony somehow installed and shut with security locks.

Staring at you as you feel his fingers crawl up your bare stomach now as his fingers hook underneath your bra and chase around to the hooks on the back that he undoes his one shot your bra falling as Tony yanks your shirt and bra off now, throwing them across the giant lab.

Tony's other hand, slides up your thigh underneath your skirt as he feels no underwear causing him to smirk, you planned this. The older man fingers gently caress your pussy causing you to shudder in pleasure for a moment as you hold your lips close so nothing can escape from them.

Seeing that smirk made your breath hitch in the quiet lab as Tony's eyes carefully trailed you up.

"Oh, no underwear…mhm that’s bad, baby girl…what if someone else saw what’s mine?" Tony questions and you just chuckle.

"Trust me, no one did…took them off right before I came in here…" you say with a smirk on your face as Tony grabs your chin tightly almost making your lips pucker as he forces you to look at him.

"You’re a brat…planning this so I can just fuck all my frustrations out on you," Tony says and you just stare at him.

"Yes." You choke out.

"How badly do you want?" He asks

"I want it hard, daddy." You choke out and Tony smirks at you as he lets go of your chin. It's bright red from his fingers.

"What else do you want?" He asks as he sees your hands slip into his pants you can see the growing tension in his pants.

"To please you daddy…" you say confidently as you push Tony back from you as you slip off the lab table completely undoing his pant button and zipper as his pants fall exposing his underwear and underneath with his hard and his growing cock.

Grabbing Tony's shoulder as you turn him around, pushing him against the table as he stares at you going down to your knees as your fingers hook the hem of his boxers and pull them down as a red throbbing big cock leaking precum springs out in front of your face making you smile. Hands grasping his cock firmly at the base as you start pumping him fast and hard making him groan out Tony's hands go to the side of the table to grip onto them as he looks down watching you as you lick your lips.

Sticking your tongue out as you lick one long strip onto his cock as Tony groans more at that sensation of your tongue as your wrap your whole mouth around him as you slowly started bobbing your head up and down on his cock causing Tony to groan out more audible moans.

Hearing his moans encouraged you even more by each one as you started sucking wildly causing Tony's hand to grab a fistful of your hair as your hands went down to hold onto his thighs tightly.

"OH FUCK! How did you get so good at this, baby? God" Tony moans out loudly as you feel him jerk himself inside your mouth making you look up at him. Bobbing your head wildly faster again as you feel Tony thrust his hips into your mouth causing his cock to hit the back of your throat you immediately felt tears well into the back of your eyes but you couldn’t care less about those tears as you for gag as Tony pushes your head into his cock making you gag even more as your mouth made his cock disappear making groan out.

Tony held your head there as your tongue swirled all around his cock and the tip like a lollipop before Tony removed your head and your mouth with a loud pop coming from the suction you had.

"I want you to take all this cum in you…You’re gonna take it, baby." Tony growls as he lifts you by your hair causing you to smile.

"U-…Y-Yesssss, Tonyyy." You slightly moan out as you suddenly feel yourself against the table staring out into the lab as Tony rips your pencil skirt off of you. Tony smacks your ass roughly a couple of times causing you to yelp as he flips you around making you look at him.

Your hands go to Tony's shoulders as he slides right into he lifts into the table causing you to moan out as your free right-hand goes up to his hair and slides through it as you gently pull his hair in pleasure as your left hand and arm go underneath Tony arm and land on his back as your nails meet his back fairly quickly with his second push into you without warning.

Feeling tight hands on your hips as Tony pushes you into his cock as he starts thrusting, pushing your tightly sealed mouth to moan out and your nails dig into his back a bit more.

The thrusts started to pick up even more causing you to moan even more as you closed your eyes still gently tugging on Tony's hair and your nails dragging against his back because you didn’t know what to do with your hairs.

Clenching around Tony tightly causes him to groan as he starts losing himself he puts a hand on your breasts massaging them as he continues to thrust and thrust wildly into you making you a moaning mess, making you get so so so much closer.

“Oh god…I’m almost there..” you moan out, and as you let go of Tony's hair he pulls you up kissing you passionately as you kiss back.

“Fuck….me too…” Tony moans out as she continues to thrusts as they get sloppier, more drawn out as he starts slamming into you harder as his cock starts to twitch in you. Tony slams into you in more time as you start cumming all along his cock he begincumming inside of you quickly causing him to groan out.

Staring at Tony as you smile at him he very slowly pulls out of you making you whimper at the emptiness. Sitting up from the table as you sit on the edge and feel Tony's cum ooze out of you as he watches with a smirk and as he leans in kisses you again as holds you close to him.

“Was that a nice break?” You ask and Tony nods.

“Oh baby, it was perfect.” Tony says as you chuckle softly hopping down from the lab table.

“Wanna take more of a break in the shower?” You ask and Tony smirks softly

“Deadline isn’t until next week…I can make some room..” Tony says with a smirk as you grab clothes and quickly go to the private back way of the lab that leads straight to your bedroom with Tony he laughs while following you.

[lilacxquartz]

make you feel good;

mr. crawling x gn!reader

plot: after mr crawling showed you his affection, you decided to return the favour! — themes: (giving) oral, smut, no dialogue, mr. crawling being very flustered, headpats during — w.c: 600+ — a/n: this didn’t show up in the tags when i last posted, so we’re trying again 🫠 • masterlist

Mr. Crawling made you feel good all of the time, whether it was mentally or physically because of just how much he paid attention to you and your needs—so as you lay in bed with him—you had one single thought on your mind:

What if you made him feel just as good as he made you feel?

Mr. Crawling laid against you otherwise for the time being; with his body curled up right beside you on the bed you both slept on with an arm draped around you to hold you close. As you stirred however, he immediately seemed to wake up, as if always on alert to stick to your side in a way that could have bordered obsession.

And although he wasn’t particularly demanding, what with his main focus being you, it was quite clear that he was at least a little bit frustrated, so why wouldn’t you return the favour of all that he’s helped you through?

You slowly curled upright into a seated position, waking him up from his half-slumber in the process. His kind expression looked down at you through his bloodied eyes, leaving you wondering if he could see you at all, but given just how warm his presence seemed to be… then perhaps? Not giving it too much thought, however, you pushed those concerns aside and repositioned yourself to the ground—with your legs knelt over the floor—ready to spread his own apart and—

From the moment you uncovered his obvious arousal, your eyes locked onto his ever so slightly twitching length that trembled with anticipation. He didn’t turn you away as if excited, but did otherwise fidget, hinting at slight nervousness. You tried your best to soothe his worries otherwise, extending a hand to brush along his arm, finishing with a kind, comforting squeeze over his hand before moving down to the apex of his inner thighs.

Curiously, you took hold of his cock into your hand, your fingers wrapping around his girth like a coiled spring, immediately moving to guide yourself along in up-and-down motions. Mr. Crawling responded positively by chewing on his bottom lip as he stifled back a whimper, his hands clawing at the sheets from where he sat.

He then leaned back slightly, his elbows locking into a strained stance to balance himself with his chin tilting up in bliss. His moans quickly became more frequent, coming out in low guttural, gasping breaths the longer that you took care of him, with the rest of his body beginning to feel almost scalding hot—radiating onto you—making your face burn up, too.

Slowly, you took him in, although gently so that you could return the favour. As a result, he stilled, moving his one hand in an instant to rest atop your head. His fingers affectionately patted and massaged your scalp in the process as you worked your magic, sending him over the edge more quickly than you could ever imagine.

Mr. Crawling wasn’t going to last at this rate, that much was clear, which was especially evident by just how quickly he seemed unravel from the tingling sensation of your tongue running along his shaft—meeting with his sensitive tip—only to return to the intoxicating feeling of your mouth sucking on him again.

Feeling himself get close, Mr. Crawling then let slip a high-pitched gasp, watching you move with an awestruck expression written on his features before stilling into a barely controlled stutter—his entire body going tense just before thawing into complete and utter ecstasy. He gasped again as he painted the inside of your lips white with one final stiff movement, seeming to crack a smile once again. Finally, he seemed less rigid overall, perhaps even elated, especially and very likely because it was you who did this for him.

After a moment, you withdrew your lips from him and crawled back up to where he was, finding that he immediately scooped you up, squeezing you tight in his arms.

Both equally spent and exhausted, you felt your eyelids droop shut.

Feeling perfectly content that you were both even now at last.

[baibeebrii]

Timothee Chalamet- highschool au

nerdy!reader x popular!timmy

18+ mdni

my writing is everywhere. i had to get this idea out. lol

warnings- rough sex, praise, simp timmy, down bad timmy, semi public sex, all consensual, adult reader(18), cursing, corruption kink, timmy’s a bit of a stalker, squirting

info - nerdy reader gets invited to timothee’s end of the year party, shocked, she goes.

her surprise, it was all part of timmy’s plan of confessing and finally getting you as his.

in any way he can.

senior year, best way to put it. not going well.

you were in your last year of highschool, still the same you as you were in your first year. school oriented and focused. your only priority was getting into college. so that’s all you focused on your four years.

you were so smart, acing all your classes with straight A’s and even some college credits. you were the person people would come to for notes, or help and you always helped your classmates. you were just that type of person.

which is what made you catch timothy’s eye, he loved staring at you during class when you were turned away from him helping another classmate work out a problem, the way your hair fell in your face, making you push it behind your ear, watching how you bite your lip when really focused ok something. admiring how gorgeous your body was. from the curve of your chest to the curve of your hips. you were remarkable in his eyes, and he so badly wanted you to feel it.

you were the top of every class, straight A student, never going to party’s, always home studying. so when timothee hands you an invitation to his party, you were nothing but shocked, and a little confused.

“is this for me? or do you need me to give this to someone else?” you ask, because surely it’s not for you- right?

“uh it’s your invite, has your name on it” timothee smiles and points to the envelope, where your name was written in pink cursive.

“are you sure you want me there? i mean i’ve never even been to a party” you chuckle, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. embarrassed that your life is well.

boring.

“well yeah, i mean unless miss perfect has some studying to do?” he laughs, hoping you say no.

you smirk, “i guess i can push some studying aside to come to the infamous timothee chalamets party”

he smiles, gives you a nod and walks to his next class.

why is your heart beating so fast? and why do you feel hot and tingly all over.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when your stack of books are pushed to the floor.

“what do you think you’re doing?” sara basically hissed at you.

ah sara, lead cheerleader, most popular, blah blah blah.

you get it? the school bully.

you say nothing as you grab your things and turn to walk away, not even giving her the time of day to ruin the high you’re feeling right now.

but that was only seconds before you’re pulled out of your thoughts again, by a hand on your shoulder spinning you around.

“i asked you a question, bitch. what do you think you’re doing? you’re not seriously thinking about showing up to that party?” she sneered.

“um actually, i am. thanks” you try walking away again, only to be pulled back.

“if i see you there, i will ruin your life. stay away from him”

you couldn’t understand the drama behind boys? she’s threatening you, over a boy? so weird.

last class of the day? done. school was finally done. couple months of studying and you’ll be off to college. you couldn’t wait.

but more importantly. timothees party tonight.

oh god.

what the fuck were you going to wear?

you ripped apart your closet. desperate to find something, anything.

finally, the perfect skirt and shirt.

the cutest black mini skirt and a white baby tee with a red star.

you couldn’t lie, you looked good.

maybe too good.

but you’ll never see these people when you go to college. so let’s have some fun.

you put on some mascara, a nice wing eyeliner, and a red lipstick. you left your hair down, but brought a hair tie in case you got hot.

driving over there, you were an anxious mess. you almost turned around thrice but right on time. you pulled on his street. parking a bit away.

walking up to his house, you can already hear music blaring and see a bunch of people standing around.

do you knock? do you just walk in?

luckily some people were coming beside you and just walked in, so you slipped in with them.

inside, you looked around. drinks were in the kitchen, and there was a snack table.

your eyes scanning the room for the host, not finding in in the large crowd you decided to head to the kitchen, get something to drink.

you turn around and bump into someone, nine other then timmy himself.

“ah y/n you decided to come” he gleamed at you, little brush creeping on his face.

“ah yeah, couldn’t miss your party” you laugh, as if you’ve ever been to a party before.

“come on, let me give you the tour”

timmy took you all around his house, showing off everything he could to impress you, and it was working. who knew the most popular boy in school was secretly a huge star wars nerd? you loved it.

you make your way back downstairs, timmy running to get you guys something to drink, you stand kinda in the corner, not wanting to get bothered as you waited.

you can only hope so much, “hello cutie, you dress up nicely” some boy basically growled at you he was so intoxicated.

“do i know you?” of course you knew who he was, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“we go to the same school?” he slurred out, this was seriously such an ick for you, do people really enjoy this.

before the boy spoke again, timmy showed up, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you in.

“problem?” he said looking towards the boy.

he stammered son incoherent words before walking away, you sighed. gross.

“let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

agreeing quickly, you follow behind him to his bedroom, him closing and locking the door before sitting on his bed with you.

“here, try this drink” he says placing a solo cup in your hand, “it’s a creation of my own”

you smile and take a small sip, smelling the alcohol. but to your surprise it tasted like straight up juice. taking another sip you look even more surprised.

“this is alcohol?” you giggle.

“ahh yeah, made it so you wouldnt taste the alcohol” he smirked.

taking another sip, your cup is already half gone, starting to feel a bit fuzzy yiu place the cup down.

“i’m gonna tap out, don’t want to get too intoxicated. need to drive home”

“smart, ill stop too. let’s just talk” timmy smiles at you grabbing both your cups and placing them on the night stand.

“sooooo what made you invite me timothy? i don’t think we’ve ever talked much” you laugh.

he just stares for a second, “why wouldn’t i invite you? i like you” ending the sentence in a smirk.

you just stare at him, likes you? how? we barely know each other.

before you could say anything timothy continues, “i’ve been paying attention to you y/n. you’re so pretty in class, the prettiest.” he says moving closer to you.

“the way your bangs frame your face when you’re reading, or how they fall in your face while you’re writing. the way your skirt rides up your thigh from sitting” you looks you up and down.

you’re speechless, shell shocked even. did he really just say that? or did you drink more then you thought.

timothy just giggles at you, pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“ah but don’t worry, i catch the way you look at me. such lust filled eyes for someone so pure” his eyes darken.

no like seriously darken, you’ve read this in books but you didn’t think it was actually possible.

your heart rate quickens, rapidly beating in your chest. you can’t help but to feel the heat rise up in you.

“timothy, are you drunk?” you finally speak out.

he laughs and shakes his head a bit, “i’ve barely drank baby, wanted to be perfect for you” he puts his face in your chest, inhaling your scent.

he groans, and pulls you closer, hands sliding down your back to your ass.

“i love watching you in class, or walk down the hallway. watching as your ass jiggles with every step, the way your tits bounce, i could eat you alive”

your cheeks darken a deep red, you could feel his hard cock twitching on your thigh.

“do you want me just as bad as i want you baby?” he innocently asks, pulling the hem of your shirt up.

you nod as you help him take your top off, boobs bouncing out of the shirt. sitting so pretty just for him.

“god they’re so much better then i imagined, so pretty” he says taking a bud into his mouth ducking gently while his other hand went to massage your left boob.

you make a small noise, this is all new to you. a virgin in every way.

“ahh timmy, wait” he instantly takes himself off you looking into your eyes.

“are you okay?” the sincerity in his eyes and voice is beautiful.

“i’m fine, i just want you to know this would be my first time” his eyes flickered.

“i’d be the first to have this body” he growled flipping you over so he’s on top of you.

he attacks your neck with sloppy kisses as he rubs down your body.

you’re making noises, so many small whimpers and whines.

it’s driving timothy crazy, he doesnt know how long he can contain himself.

“i need you baby, please?” the desperation in his voice was overwhelming. you nod your head and your skirt is flying off along with your underwear. his pants are being unzipped and pulled down

his hard cock popped out smacking his stomach, almost to his belly button. your eyes widen, that will not fit.

“don’t worry baby, i’ll go slow. you make all the calls, understand?” he doesn’t want to hurt you, he wants to take care of you. wants you to be safe and comfortable.

you nod, he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. he gives you a glance and you nod.

he slowly starts to push inside you, you’re so wet for him and he groans as he slides in.

you’re feeling nothing but good. this is better then you could have ever imagined.

he’s almost bottomed out before he stops, “are you still okay? need me to stop?” he rubs your face, brushing your hair.

you huff out a yes, before he pushes all the way in, the gasp you gusped was enough to stop your breathing for a second.

“god you’re so wet and warm for me baby, such a sweet girl for me” he slowly starts rocking his hips, needing to feel you.

you moan out, letting timmy know he’s doing well, quickening his pace he lets out small grunts and moans.

you’re a moaning mess, moans and curse words leaving your lips as timmy has found himself at a fast but harsh pace. he’s fucking you so deep, reaching spots that make you feel stars, his cock sliding almost completely out before slamming back in.

the way your pussy clings to his cock, sucking him back in is driving you crazy.

your pussy is absolutely dripping around him, you feel fucking amazing.

the way he’s fucking you is so intense the coil in your stomach is about to burst.

feeling like you have to pee, but the pleasure is so good you can’t help but to let everything go.

your orgasm shocking your core, timmy slowly fucking you through it. placing soft kisses along your collar bone.

“that’s it, such a good girl.” praising you as you cum all over his cock.

regaining composure you look down, his stomach is soaked, he’s soaked in your pussy juices.

“baby i think you just squirted.” he smirks running his fingers on his stomach before placing them in his mouth, “and you tastes delicious”

he flips you over so your on your hands and knees, you’re a bit wobbly but keep standing as he slides his thick cock back into your soaking pussy.

he quickly returns to his ruthless pace, slamming his cock deep inside you with every thrust, keeping this same ruthless pace but god it was amazing.

his grip on your hips are sure to leave bruises as you pounds your tight little pussy.

he reaches for your hair, tugging it back and using it as leverage to fuck you even deeper, you scream out. he’s hitting your spot over and over. fucking you senseless.

“ahh baby, i’m getting close. where do you want my cum?” timmy says breathlessly.

you moan out “inside, please”

that only makes tummy’s pace faster as he wants to so badly fill this hole.

you can barely hold your self up anymore, absolutely fucked out.

timmy’s rhythm starts to fall out of line as he’s getting closer, his grip on your tighter as his moans become louder.

few more thrusts and he’s cumming deep into your pussy, his whimpers as his orgasm rushed through his body is enough to make you cum for a second time. fluttering your walks on his twitching cock creates the best overstimulation for timmy. moaning again as he slowly thrust into. fucking his cum deeper inside you.

his little whimpers as the overstimulation is getting to you both.

he pulls out slowly, helping you lay down, before getting up and walking to his connected bathroom grabbing a wet rag and a glass of water.

he cleans you up and hands you the water, before cleaning himself.

he grabs you a shirt from his drawer as well as finding your underwear.

he slides your under wear up your legs, pulling them on, and helping you put the shirt on before pulling the blanket up and pulling you in.

“you’re okay? nothing hurts?” he asks as you runs his fingers through your hair.

“i’m good, more then good” you smile into his chest.

he laughs, “good, i didn’t want to hurt you, but i’ve been fantasizing about you for so long.”

“you drive me crazy y/n, i need you to know that”

you just laugh, he laughs with you.

silence passes between you, before timmy speaks up again.

“be my girlfriend y/n?”

you look up to him, innocent eyes he’s displaying and shake your head yes.

his giddy ass smile gives you butter flies before he pulls you in closer, and drifting off the sleep with you.

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i don’t know. this was just an idea i had to excute quickly.

hope you enjoy!