#I got rid of the “then” on my cover I just only noticed

[colepaldi-in-the-tardis]

Just screwing around with book covers for a long-fic I wrote a while ago for my "The Hour" OTP Bel Rowley/Randall Brown. I always enjoy getting my fic printed as a single book for my bookshelf and every single one needs - of course - a neat book cover. How does this one look??

This story is sort of a war story playing after S2 of The Hour, I wrote for over two years on AO3.

Running away to the next war zone, wasn't one of his brightest ideas, but the only one Randall Brown could live with. Unable to deal with the past, nor the future, he found a home just two miles away from the front line. Just when he was about to get lost in the rabbit hole of war, drinks and miserable thoughts, the one person he thought he never sees again showed at his door step. Bel Rowley didn't come to stay, but given herself and home a promise, she certainly wouldn't leave without him. Her actions will have consequences for them all.

"The Hour - If you stay, then I can't go" on AO3

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, periods sex, blood play but not really(?), softie König

A/n: very self-indulgent. My periods are as tough as ever and there’s no one to comfort me, so I guess I’ll have to do it myself🥲

König didn’t really know much about periods. Well, of course he knew what menstruation is and that every woman has it once a month, but that was pretty much it. So when you started dating poor guy saw how things really were in female world.

He noticed how moody you would become a week prior your periods, how snappy you’d react to his harmless teasing. König noted your craving for sweets as well, and how angry and sad you’d be over a few pimples that appeared so unwelcomed on your precious face. And König felt truly sorry for you - it was clear as day that you were a hormonal mess, and there wasn’t anything he could do to help you, no matter how much he wanted to.

And then your periods finally came. König watched you get up suddenly from your spot on the couch, rushing straight to the bathroom. He was a bit confused - you were all snuggled up together, watching a movie you picked - did something happen? He knocked on the bathroom door softly, asking if everything was good - a few moments later you opened the door, sour expression on your face as you scrunch up the wrap from the pad. “Yeah, my periods started” you mumbled begrudgingly, your lips pulled in a small pout.

König who just couldn’t bear seeing his precious baby in pain, did everything in his power to comfort you. He wrapped his warm strong arms around your frail form, cuddling you into his chest. His fingers grazed gently the soft skin of your tummy where it ached, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, scattering small kisses wherever he could reach.

König did his research on how to ease menstrual pains. Painkillers, massage, yoga. But what particularly caught his attention - almost every article he’d read said that orgasm is a great way to get rid of cramps - not only healthy but pleasurable as well. So of course he suggested you just that.

König was so sad to see you this fearful and hesitant - “Baby, it’ll make a huge mess. Everything will be covered in blood and I don’t want you to get yourself dirty and-“ you rambled on, his eyes growing wide with every word you said. “Y/n, what are you even talking about?” He interrupted you softly, huge hands coming to cup your cheeks and he looks into your eyes deeply.

“Do you really think a bit of blood will stop me from fucking my amazing sexy girl? If you don’t want this - it’s okay, but please don’t think that I’m disgusted by you bleeding” he said it so earnestly, kissing both of your cheeks reassuringly. König hated the idea of you being self-conscious about absolutely natural processes in your body. So when you nodded shyly, slightly spreading your legs for him to settle in between them, König couldn’t contain a wide grin, even while kissing you passionately.

So with a thick towel under your hips, König got to work - lapping away at your poor pussy, smearing a mixture of your blood, slick and his own saliva all over his cheeks, gazing up at you drunkenly, moaning into your folds at the taste and smell of you. His fingers gently pumped in and out of your sopping cunt, marveling at the wetness blood provided, how easily three of his thick digits slipped into your sensitive cunny.

And only after making you cum on his mouth two times, König decided to fully indulge you, getting his heavy cock out of his boxers. With gentle move of his hips he sunk right into your velvety warmth, penetration as easy as ever due to blood lubrication. He went as gentle as ever, noting how overly sensitive you were - way more than usual. König made sure to not go too deep, to not disturb your poor uterus even more.

König was so sweet, rubbing your clit non-stop, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of your soft beautiful body. He scattered kisses all over your neck and chest, careful to not graze your sore from hormones nipples. And only when you couldn’t take no more - a trembling sweaty mess in his loving arms, babbling and whimpering deliriously, he allowed himself to finally cum on your twitching tummy.

König fucked you so good it took you several minutes to regain consciousness - with bleary eyes you looked up to him, your breath hitching slightly. Here was your boyfriend sitting next to you, grinning from ear to ear; lower half of his face was completely covered in dried blood, his hands and lower stomach glistening with dark red. That would definitely look terrifying if you didn’t know what exactly he was just doing.

“So how are your cramps?” He asked, his white teeth contrasting with brownish-red on his cheeks and lips. You closed your eyes in exhaustion, sinking deeper into soft pillows.

“Gone” you said, making König’s smile brighten impossibly more.

And yes, he’d definitely joke about being a vamp from this day on🙄

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[moondirti]

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.

[themultifanshipper]

Max stormed through the halls of the ER, fuming at the stupidity of his teammate.

He was going to fucking kill Checo.

Warnings: driver!reader, smut, PinV sex, injury, mention of strong ass medication, public sex?, sex in a hospital bed what more do you want from me

The door of your room slamming open startled you as Max walked in with a scowl.

"Jesus Max calm down-“

“No, I am not going to calm down!” he yelled. “That idiot put you in the fucking hospital and caused two other people to crash. I'm going to kill him when I see him!”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

You didn't have any broken bones, thank god, but your entire body was covered in deep bruising.

It was extremely painful and they'd given you some very strong painkillers and a plethora of other medication that hadn’t quite kicked in yet, so you weren’t really in the mood for Max's yelling.

He noticed your pained expression and immediately calmed down, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his.

“I'm sorry schat, I'm just so angry… How bad is it?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Nothing broken, but I don't think I'll be able to make it to dinner” you joked weakly.

He whined and lay his head on your shoulder and you winced, so he pulled back and stroked your thigh tenderly.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Is there anywhere I can touch you where it doesn't hurt?”

You smirked, mind in the gutter, as usual “You always know where to touch me to make me feel good, Max…”

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Go on baby, touch me wherever and I'll tell you if it hurts or not”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively and Max tried to swallow, his mouth was suddenly very dry.

Perhaps whatever they'd given you was finally starting to kick in.

And evidently, it wasn't just getting rid of the pain, it was making you insanely horny. Like… abnormal levels of horny. You hadn’t realized when you were alone, but the sight of Max in front of you was getting you very hot and bothered.

“Come on Max, touch me, I need it so bad…”

Your hand slowly slid up his denim covered thigh and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Baby we can't” he gasped and got a hold of your wrist just before you got to the crotch of his jeans “We're in a hospital and you're badly injured…”

You were giving him your best (albeit a bit droopy) puppy dog eyes.

“And you are on drugs, my love”

You tried to sit up but your whole body protested so you stayed down, tugging at his shirt and pawing at his thick thighs.

“Please Max, fuck it's been so long, I need you inside me now”

It really had been a while. Between the races, your respective factory business was in entirely different countries, so you rarely had time to indulge in anything more than quickies and facetime debauchery.

Max was rapidly crumbling under your heated gaze (and your goddamn paws touching every bit of him you could reach) and his resolve didn't last long as he started going through ways to make this possible.

With every passing moment, your pain was decreasing and the heat between your legs was only getting worse as you whined at him to make you feel good.

He slowly stripped himself of his clothes and climbed over you, careful to avoid putting any weight on you.

As your body was uncovered bit by bit, he felt the anger come back, and then a wave of nausea took over.

There was barely any unblemished skin on your body, most of it coloured in various shades of yellow, purple and blue bruising.

He spread your legs and kneeled between them, running his fingers up the inside of your thighs and stopped just short of where you were almost dripping onto the sheets.

“Jesus baby, you really need me, huh?”

You whimpered pathetically and grabbed his hand to press it against you and rut against it desperately just for some relief.

The sight of you writhing and whimpering under him was overwhelming, and it didn't take long for him to line himself up and start pushing into you slowly.

Every time was like the first time with Max.

He held you in his arms, making sure you were okay as he split you open, burying inside you tight heat that seemed to be molded just for him.

You were drowsy from the painkillers but you felt every inch, every vein caress your walls as he dragged his cock in and out of you desperately.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hips rolled against yours in a slow rhythm, almost maddeningly so.

He went so deep, bumping your cervix on every slide in, and you let out low moans every time, matching his growls. You tugged harder on his hair while he nipped gently at your neck, cautious of where the seatbelt had bruised it.

His back muscles rippled under your touch and your eyes rolled back, the euphoria soon washing over your body in waves.

As soon as you started clenching around him, Max knew he was a goner. He'd missed the feeling so much, he quickly filled you up, shooting rope after rope deep inside you.

Once he was done, he rolled to the side so that he could lie down next to you but keep you in his arms as you stayed tangled together, sharing a passionate kiss.

“Fuck baby, I love you so much” you said, nails scratching at his scalp while he pressed kisses to your skin.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, making sure to not put any weight on you in the process. “I love you too schat, you have no idea how scared I was, seeing them cart you off in in an ambulance while I was stuck in the paddock doing fucking interviews…”

You hummed, fingers drawing patterns over his skin. “I’m here now, Max. And I’ll be fine.”

Max looked up at you with a smile.

“I know… but I’m still going to fucking kill Checo”

[sunsetsimon]

GAGGHHH i need a pt. 2 of blue collar simon😔😔

ask and ye shall receive hehe

☼ he's so serious about quality when it comes to attire for work. buying expensive work boots, cargo pants, and jackets to protect himself from the elements. a toolbelt hangs heavily on his hips, weighed down with multiple screwdrivers and a hammer. they sway with each step he takes, ordering the rookies around when he sees them sitting doing nothing.

"get your asses up, we've got work to do," simon orders, slapping one on the shoulder from behind, nearly making the grown man jump out of his skin.

☼ you can't help but swoon when he comes in from work, dressed head to toe in dirt caked gear. his tanned arms are kissed with a light sunburn from being exposed to the sun all day, a small bruise here and there. his frown immediately turns to a smirk as he sees you, noticing the way your doe eyes look him up and down, contemplating if you want to climb him like a tree now - or later.

"what's that look for?" he asks, kneeling in the doorway to unlace his boots. you approach him, running your fingers through his messy blond hair to rid it of a few specks of drywall, he almost groans.

"nothing... just admiring my husband," you say, a mischievous smile on your pretty lips that exposes your true intentions.

"mm," simon hums, reading you like a book. he runs his fingers along the back of your thighs, up under the hem of your shorts that barely cover the thin cotton of your panties, waiting excitedly with a bow on the front - a present for your hard working husband of course.

"haven't even been home for a minute and you're already purring for me," he says, rubbing his thumb in a circle on your clothed clit, making your knees weak.

☼ very overprotective and possessive if you come to his job sites. oh no! he left his lunch, you realize, quickly changing and following his location through your phone. when you arrive the area is sectioned off, materials lie around in piles and dust flies freely, giving you a tickle in your throat. you look around at each person, unable to discern who's who, masks and hard hats making everyone look the same.

"lookin' for someone?" you hear. a man a few feet away from you asks, pulling down his mask to reveal a short brown beard - definitely not simon.

"yes i'm looking for simon!" you say, continuing to look from person to person but not seeing him anywhere.

"huh.. he's this way," the man gives you an odd look then waves, signaling you to follow him into the dirt.

men gawk as you walk by, power drills pausing mid air as they wonder what this pretty little thing is doing walking around their job with a large black lunchbox in her hands. as you get deeper into the site you hear a gruff voice that you'd recognize anywhere. his back is to you, speaking loudly to someone as he points at different places on the bare boned structure.

"simon!" the man announces his presence, making simon turn around, his eyes immediately locking on you. he doesn't excuse himself or acknowledge who led you to him, only grabbing your wrist and leading you away from their lingering eyes.

"the hell are you doing here?" he asks, his brown eyes darkening so intensely it intimidates you.

"i brought your lunch!" you say innocently, lifting the lunch box into his view, "you forgot it at home."

different emotions flash across his face rapidly, until he lands on one that softens his furrowed eyebrows, grabbing the heavy pack from you with a sigh - relief is what he feels. "would've just grabbed something nearby, love. these guys must've been looking at you like you're their next meal or somethin."

"maybe, but they should know now i came for you."

simon licks his lips, turned on by your loyalty, your want to provide for him and take care of him while he works his ass off so you can stay home and look pretty. he grabs you by your chin, pulling you into a sloppy wet kiss that lasts a bit too long to be considered appropriate for the public. he's obviously making a statement to the curious eyes that linger from his men. mine.

"lemme walk you out," he says nonchalantly when he pulls away, ignoring your blushing cheeks at the very intense display of affection, leading you with a hand on your lower back that slips down to take a grip of your plushy ass when he notices someone staring too hard.

[sinsirellaxx]

Hey dear! how about the toxic slytherin boys reacting to the reader wearing a short skirt?

Slytherin Boys – What they’d do if you wore a short skirt

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys

A/N: Thank you for the request! ❤️ I have the feeling that these toxic boys are more leaning towards yandere ... if it's too much for you, please let me know!

Otherwise: Have fun reading! And not proofread – so, proceed with caution!

Mattheo …

… stared at you – surprised by your audacity. He had told you not to wear that skirt that morning, yet there you were: waltzing around in a tiny skirt. Gritting his teeth he’d stand up from the sofa and walk up to you. You noticed your boyfriend, a small smirk on your lips as you awaited his reaction.

Seeing the smirk on your face further added to his anger. You wanted his attention that bad? He’d make sure you’d get it. When he got close enough, he bent down slightly, grabbed the back of your thighs, and threw you over his shoulder. One of his hands moved to cover your ass from prying eyes as he walked towards his dorm. If you wanted to be a brat, he’d have to teach you how to behave.

“Wrong move, babe.”

You were his and he’d have to remind you of that. Not that he minded.

Theodore …

… cursed in Italian when he spotted you. The fuck? He didn’t waste another second before removing his jacket and wrapping it around your waist. He was utterly shocked, because this wasn’t like you. He never had to tell you how to dress prior to this because you never wore something risky. “Love, you can’t walk around looking like this.” He’d scold you with a frown on his face. You stared at him with sad eyes as you asked him if you looked bad. Theodore groaned loudly as he threw his head back, his hands combing through his hair. Your naivety was going to be the death of him. Shaking his head he cupped your cheeks in his large hands, forcing you to look at him. “No, bella. You look amazing – absolutely beautiful. And that is the problem. I don’t want anyone else to see you look this pretty and tempting. Alright?”

Lorenzo …

… would be livid. Not just because of you but also because of the boys turning around to look at you. He’d instantly feel the urge to whisk you away and hide you in his room, but he knew he couldn’t. Not just yet. Instead, he chose to walk towards you, glaring at the boys until they finally averted their eyes. Lorenzo hugged you close to his body as he silently grit out, “Love, what is this? Are you trying to test my patience?”

 He'd definitely get rid of all the short skirts and dresses in your closet.

Draco …

… immediately pulled you somewhere more secluded before pinning you against the wall. “It’s funny you think you can walk around looking like that.” He’d growl against your ear with his hands on your hips. “Go and change.”

If you nod and do whatever he wants, like the good and obedient girl that he wants, he’ll be satisfied. If you refuse, however, he’ll grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back slightly. Having now access to your neck, he’ll pepper kisses and bites onto your skin, desperate to leave as many marks as possible. “You’ll go change. Now. Stop being a brat.”

Blaise …

… would be hot and bothered. Loves the skirt on you. Hates the attention you get. His hands would immediately be on your hips, gripping tightly as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Baby, what’s with the skirt? Don’t you think it’s too short?” He’d ask.

When you proudly asked him if he liked it and told him that you wore it for him, he couldn’t help but relax, the initial anger wearing off.

“You look great, love. But only wear this when you’re with me.” Blaise said, his voice low and commanding.

Tom …

… immediately pulls out his wand and in a matter of second your skirt will have grown by a few inches. He’d never allow you to walk around with a short skirt and there was nothing you could do. Tom would still be angry with you though and depending on how you reacted to your new skirt he’d have to resort to a rougher approach.

“If you walk around with a skirt that short again you won’t be walking for long. I might just lock you up, doll.”

-

Comments are appreciated!

If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella

[tortillamastersblog]

ᗢ Take My Hand | Wanda Maximoff ᗢ

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: steamy scene, violence, major injuries, and angst

Summary: A collection of the three times you comfort Wanda when she is scared of her own powers. . .

Continuation: Enough

________________________________________________

The first time

“Okay, you’re good to go.” Dr. Cho finishes stitching up my shoulder and gestures for me to get off the table.

I thank her and put my shirt back on, leaving with a smile and a small wave.

The flight back from Lagos was exhausting and I can’t wait to just crawl under the covers of my bed and fall asleep.

I showered earlier and I thought I could go to bed right then and there, but Nat noticed the cut on my shoulder wasn’t healing the way it usually does, so she sent me to see Dr. Cho to get it stitched up.

I make my way through the dark compound and toward my room, expecting to find a familiar redhead under the covers of my bed, but she isn’t there.

I frown and look around, noticing the door to the bathroom is standing slightly ajar, a sliver of light from inside escaping onto the hardwood floor of the bedroom.

I close the door behind me and walk toward the bathroom, carefully pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The sight that greets me makes my heart ache.

The room is illuminated by the flashlight on Wanda’s phone which is sitting on the sink with the screen faced down.

It’s not much, and any other person would have probably missed the dark figure sitting curled up against the shower wall but I don’t because of the connection the mind stone has created between Wanda and me.

We were both experimented on by Hydra, the only two differences being that I was dead when they used the stone on me and they did it when they first got their hands on it back in the 1940’s. I was in the army back then and was killed in action before Schmidt recovered my body, somehow giving me powers and bringing me back to life.

They thought it didn’t work though, which is why they put me on the bomber plane that Steve ultimately crashed into the Arctic. They were planning on throwing my body off out over the sea to get rid of the evidence of their experiments, but because of the turn of events, I was stuck in the ice with Steve for sixty years before S.H.I.E.L.D. found and recruited us.

Wanda’s soft sobs fill the silence, each one making my chest hurt, and I’m quick to rush to her side, kneeling down in front of her after turning off the running water.

The tiles are wet and when I carefully place a hand on her knee, I notice that her clothes are soaked as well.

She freezes and buries her face in her knees even more, the hold she has around her own legs tightening.

“You know you’re supposed to take your clothes off before showering, right?” I whisper softly, not bothering to ask why she’s crying because I already know the reason.

The whole flight back from Lagos she was shaking and staring at nothing with a far off look in her eyes.

She blames herself for what happened and even though people did die because of her losing control, she also saved countless of lives on the ground.

Wanda doesn’t react to my attempt at a joke and I sigh, moving forward and unwrapping her arms from around her legs.

She whimpers in protest but I keep going, slipping my arms under hers and getting up, pulling her to her feet with me.

She sobs and tightens her hold on me, her face landing in the crook of my neck.

“It will be okay, darling,” I whisper, not caring that my clothes are getting wet. “It’s not your fault.”

Wanda shakes her head and another sob escapes her lips.

Then, as if realizing something, she pushes me back and stares at the bandage that pokes out from underneath my shirt.

“You’re hurt,” she croaks. “I hurt you.”

I frown and go to grab her hand, but she pulls away “What are you talking about? You didn’t hurt me.”

Wanda nods frantically and stares at her hands with watery eyes. “You got caught in the blast.”

“Wanda, I did, but—“

“No,” she whimpers. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

Her bottom lip begins to tremble as a tear rolls down her cheek and her knees start to buckle.

Ignoring her hands which are trying to keep me away, I step into her space and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her up.

She fights me for a few seconds, whimpering, “No, no. Get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you again,” before she stops and melts into the embrace.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

Wanda sobs and curls her fingers around the fabric of my shirt. “I’m a monster. . .”

“No you’re not.” I state firmly, squeezing her in my arms.

“You should be afraid of me,” she argues weakly.

I blink a couple of times to get rid of my own tears and shake my head. The fact that she’s thinking of herself like this, makes my heart ache and my throat burn with unshed tears.

“Wanda,” I whisper pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are filled with hurt and despair and I take a deep breath, moving my hands from her waist to cup her cheeks. “I will say this as many times as I have to. . . I will never— you hear me— never be afraid of you and your powers. I love you and you couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.”

A new wave of tears streams down her cheeks and I use the pads of my thumbs to wipe them away. She lifts a hand and places it over my injured shoulder.

“But today—“

I shake my head again and press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s nothing, darling. Please, trust me on that. It’s just taking a little longer to heal because I’m exhausted and drained.”

“Y/N. . .” she protests weakly and I step back and take her shaking hands.

She watches with wide eyes, trying to pull away but I tighten my grip and hold her gaze as I lift her hands and press a kiss to each palm.

“I love you, Wanda,” I say firmly, bringing her hands to cup my cheeks. “And I love your powers. You’re beautiful inside and out and I don’t want to spend a single moment of my life without you. So please, stop. I’m not scared of you.”

Wanda’s red-rimmed eyes dance over my face, obviously looking for any doubt on my part, and when she doesn’t find any, she surges forward and kisses me.

Her lips are chapped and I can taste her tears, but I don’t care, letting go of her hands and pulling her closer.

“I love you, too,” she whispers against my lips before leaning back in, trying to deepen the kiss.

I stop her before she gets a chance though, not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable moment, and squeeze her hips. “We should get some sleep, darling.”

Wanda sighs and nods, resting her forehead on my sternum. “Okay. . .”

I help her out of her shirt and jeans, giving her one last peck on the lips before leaving her to take a proper shower.

While she showers I change into a new, dry set of clothes and slip under the covers of the bed.

It’s not even five minutes later that the door to the bathroom reopens and Wanda emerges in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

I lift the covers with one arm, extending my other in invitation, and let it drop back down once she has slipped into bed, pressed against my side with one of her legs thrown over my hips.

“I love you,” she says when I start running my fingers through her damp hair.

“I love you, too, darling,” I whisper. “Now get some rest.”

Wanda sighs and noses forward, pressing a kiss to the underside of my jaw before settling back down and closing her eyes.

Within a couple of minutes she’s asleep and I continue to scratch at her scalp until I drift off myself.

The second time

I’m as relaxed as ever listening to Wanda playing her guitar quietly.

We’re on our bed with the lights turned down low and a storm raging on outside, the rain and wind whipping against the windows.

Wanda is sitting with her back against the headboard and I’m lying on my side, watching her with adoration.

Her nimble fingers are picking a calming melody and if it weren’t for my inability to take my eyes off her, I would have fallen asleep a long time ago.

It’s been a little over three weeks since the Lagos incident and even though Wanda still feels guilty about it she’s doing better. I’ve done my best to be by her side whenever she has a bad day and keep her from watching the news.

“You’re staring, moya lyubov,” Wanda says, glancing at me before returning her attention to the guitar.

I smile, not at all fazed that I’ve been caught “I can’t help it. You’re just so beautiful.”

She chuckles shyly and continues playing, her eyes meeting mine every now and then before she stops abruptly, catching me off guard.

She sets the guitar down next to the bed and moves to straddle my hips, forcing me to lie on my back.

I blink at her in surprise and raise a questioning eyebrow, my hands automatically moving to rest on her thighs.

“What are you doing?” I whisper breathlessly when her she place her hands on my lower stomach.

Her eyebrows are furrowed and it looks like she’s conflicted about something, but when her eyes meet mine her face softens.

“I love the way you look at me,” she admits quietly, shifting her weight on my hips and I have to bite my tongue to stop a gasp from escaping my lips. “No one’s ever looked at me like you do and I. . . I just love you so much.”

I smile and give her thighs a squeeze to show my appreciation. “I love you, too,” I say, reciprocating the kiss Wanda gives me when she bends down.

I love wholesome moments like this and I kiss back with the intention of keeping things short and sweet, but Wanda seems to have other plans.

She bites my lower lip, slipping her tongue into my mouth and slips her hands beneath my sweater. Her nails scraped against my skin and I groan, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

We’ve kissed and made out before, but this feels different than anything we’ve ever done.

Wanda is kissing me with an unprecedented sense of purpose and urgency and I have to pull back to make sure I’m not reading too much into this.

Despite being together for almost a year now, we’ve never been intimate before. It’s something we’ve spoken about a couple months ago when Wanda stopped a particularly heated make out session, saying she wasn’t ready to cross that line yet. I reassured her and told her I’d wait for her no matter how long it takes and that was that, but now things seem different.

Following our conversation I always stopped things before they could escalate, but now, when I try to pull away, Wanda whines and reattaches her lips to mine in a desperate kiss.

It takes my breath away and we continue kissing for a few seconds before I regain my bearings and place a hand on her shoulder, pushing gently.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Wanda asks breathlessly, her fingers tracing over my ribs beneath my sweater.

I shiver at the feeling and close my eyes for a moment to escape her intense gaze. “Yeah, I-I’m okay. Are you? I mean, is this going where I think it’s going or do you want to stop?”

It’s silent for a second and I open my eyes to find Wanda staring at me with dilated pupils.

“I think I’m ready,” she whispers against my lips, making my heart skip a beat.

“A-Are you sure?” I stutter and instead of answering verbally she resumes our kiss.

It’s hot and open mouthed, and when I squeeze her thighs, a squeaky moan leaves her lips. It sends a spark of arousal through me and I do it again just to hear it again.

“Y/N,” Wanda gasps, sitting up abruptly to take off her shirt before leaning back down to resume the kiss.

My mind is reeling at the sight of her exposed skin and I can’t stop myself from bringing my hands up to her waist.

Her skin is soft and warm and I can’t wait to feel it against my own.

We continue to kiss feverishly until Wanda runs out of air. She disconnects our lips, panting, and I take it as a chance to connect my lips to her neck.

I kiss and suck harshly, not caring about leaving any marks and taking delight in the gasps whimpers it’s eliciting from the redhead.

When I move to the sensitive spot just below Wanda’s ear, she shudders and digs her fingers into my ribs, making me groan.

We’re so caught up in the moment that it takes a second for the sound of breaking glass to register in both our heads. We freeze and pull apart, looking around the room for the source of the sound.

My eyes land on the lamp on the bedside table where wisps of red magic surround the now broken bulb of it.

I chuckle, realizing what’s happened but Wanda remains frozen on top of me. She’s blankly staring at the broken glass and retracts her hands from below my sweater.

“Hey,” I say softly, my voice filling with concern. “Are you okay? It was just an accident. I can replace the bulb in the morning.“

“I—“ Wanda stops herself and stares at her hands in disbelief. “I don’t think I can do this, Y/N.”

I frown and sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist to keep her on my lap. “What are you talking about?”

I hate how quickly the mood has shifted and I hate seeing the familiar look of reproach and regret in Wanda’s eyes.

“I just— I can’t do this,” she elaborates gesturing between us with a shaking hand. “I want to, but I can’t let my guard down. I’ll lose control and I’ll hurt you. My powers—“

I cut her off before she can go on, grabbing her hands and kissing her knuckles. “Hey, no. Don’t do this. We’ve talked about this. You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

Wanda chuckles sadly and shakes her head. “But I don’t trust myself.”

I sigh. Not because I’m disappointed we were interrupted, but because it hurts to know Wanda still thinks of herself like this.

I rack my brain for new ways to convince her she’s not the monster she thinks she is when I suddenly have an idea.

I scoot back until my back is against the headboard and turn Wanda’s hands around so her palms are facing up.

“Darling, look at this,” I say quietly, letting go of one of her hands.

I flex my fingers and focus on my own powers, feeling a familiar warmth rush into my fingertips until wisps of yellow surround my hand.

They slowly dance around and illuminate Wanda’s face as she watches what I’m doing.

I move my hand toward hers and as soon as our fingertips brush it’s as if my powers coax Wanda’s out of hiding.

Soft red tendrils begin to appear at the tips of her fingers and Wanda watches in amazement as they connect with my own powers.

They dance around each other, mixing and merging around our palms until they’re an orange web of liquid energy.

“Do you feel that?” I ask, referring to the warmth that spreads through my hand and up my arm.

Wanda nods, her eyes glued to our hands and the ever flowing stream of energy between us.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, knowing that it doesn’t but wanting Wanda to actually say it, to admit it, and acknowledge that her powers could never harm me.

“I— No,” she whispers, her eyes meeting mine. “It feels good. I— I feel you.”

I nod encouragingly and interlace our fingers, “Exactly. . . Now you know you won’t ever be able to hurt me, but we don’t have to continue. You can put your shirt back on and we can cuddle and watch a movie and forget any of this ever happened.”

Wanda’s eyes drop back down to our hands, her eyebrows furrowed in though for a couple of moments before she whispers, “No.”

“No?” I question gently, not knowing what exactly she means. I disconnect our hands and will my powers to disappear before placing my hands on her thighs.

Wanda’s eyes meet mine and I gasp when I notice a faint red glow in them. “No. I don’t want to stop,” she admits, her voice raspy. “I want you.”

My eyes widen and my fingers twitch in excitement. “Are you sure?”

She nods and whispers a Yes before cupping my cheeks and pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

In the end, a couple more light bulbs explode and the whole room shakes when Wanda comes for the first time with a broken cry, but no one gets hurt.

Well, that is if you don’t count the countless bruises in the form of love bites on our bodies and the angry red scratches down my back.

The third time

“Wanda,” Vision says, “It’s time.”

Wanda turns and stares at the synthezoid with watery eyes. He’s her best friend and beside me he’s the only one who truly understands her.

“No,” she says sternly, turning back around to watch Thanos taking apart the team one by one.

Vision and I share a meaningful look and I nod in acknowledgment.

“They can’t stop him Wanda,” I say, cringing when Steve gets socked in the face. “But you can. You have the power to destroy the stone.”

Vision nods in agreement and takes Wanda’s hand, placing it against his cheek.

She shakes her head with a trembling chin as her eyes fill with tears.

“Wanda please,” Vision says, his kind blue eyes focused on nothing else but the redhead in front of him. “We are out of time.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, looking at me pleadingly even though there’s nothing I can do. I may have gotten my powers from the stone as well, but I’m not as powerful as she is.

Vision takes Wanda’s hand off his cheek and raises it in front of his face. “If he gets the stone half of the universe dies.”

Wanda’s face contorts with agony and she takes a step back, acknowledging that there’s no other way.

I bow my head, trying to hide my own tears at the imminent demise of one of my friends and turn around to make sure Thanos doesn’t get to Wanda or Vision.

“It’s alright,” I hear Vision say, “You could never hurt me.”

I swallow the growing lump in my throat, remembering how I taught him that phrase before everything went to shit because of the Sokovia Accords.

He called me one evening when I was gone on a solo mission, asking how to calm Wanda down after she accidentally lost control of her powers during a training session.

Thanos catches T’Challa mid-air and slams him into the ground before striking Nat with a powerful fist.

He’s getting too close, I think, getting into a fighting stance.

I raise my hands, letting my powers flow through me until my hands are surrounded by yellow wisps.

I can’t let him get to Wanda. . .

I take a deep breath, getting ready to get my ass handed to me like the rest of the team, when the breath suddenly gets knocked out of me by some invisible force.

I gasp and look around to see what might have caused it when a blinding pain shoots up my spine and through my head.

It feels like I’m being split apart from the inside out and I drop to my hands and knees, blinking rapidly to get rid of the growing black spots in my vision.

I whimper and press a hand to my temple, only for the pain to disappear the next second as though it was never there.

“My love,” Wanda’s voice and her hands on my cheeks make me flinch and when I look up I see she’s kneeling in front of me with concern written all over her face. “What is it?”

I shake my head, confused as to what just happened and take her hands off my face. “I don’t know, darling. Just keep going, I’ll be fine. Thanos can’t get his hands on the stone.”

She watches me with uncertainty, only reluctantly getting back to her feet when I shout, “Go!”

We’re running out of time.

I take a shaky breath and stand up on shaking legs before leaning against a nearby tree.

My eyes land on Wanda as she’s getting back into position to destroy the stone.

I want to get back to shielding her from the incoming Titan, but as soon as her power connect with the stone, the pain returns, and I yelp in surprise, doubling over in pain.

Just like last time, it stops almost immediately and it’s then that I realize what’s happening.

The mind stone brought me back to life, so if it’s destroyed, I loss my powers and I go back to being dead.

When I look up I see the same realization in both Vision and Wanda’s face.

Vision just smiles sadly, knowing this won’t change our shared understanding that the stone has to be destroyed, but Wanda’s paralyzed with horror.

“No.” She shakes her head, tears of despair dripping down her face. “Not you, too. I can’t do this.”

She shakes her head like a kid throwing a tantrum and I have to bite my cheek to stifle a whimper when I drag myself to her side.

“Wanda, there’s no other way,” I croak, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

She sobs and holds onto my wrists with an ironclad grip. “No. No. No. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left. You’re my everything.”

I force a small smile and try to ignore the agony that washes over me.

Whenever one of us is feeling overwhelmed by an emotion, the other person feels it as well. It’s a side effect of the connection the mind stone has created between us and it usually doesn’t bother me, but right now it’s chipping away at my resolve to save half the universe.

“It’s going to be okay,” I lie even though my heart is begging me not to go through with this.

I’m scared of dying, yes, because I don’t remember what it was like the first time, but what I’m even more scared of is what’s going to happen to Wanda once all this is over.

She has lost so much already and I don’t know how much more she can take before she breaks completely.

“Please, no. Don’t make me do this,” Wanda cries softly, making my own tears run down my cheeks.

I struggle to breath and, not being able to bear the look of complete and utter despair in her eyes, I Iet go of her face and move so I’m standing behind her, her back flush against my front.

I press a lingering kiss to the side of her head, right above her ear, and take her hands in mine, raising them so her palms are aimed at the stone in Vision’s forehead.

“We’ll do it together, darling. I’m right here, okay?” I whisper.

Wanda sobs and whimpers, but a moment later her fingers are once again surrounded by her magic.

“Y/N. . .” she weeps, seeming unable to go through with it, but when I press another kiss to the side of her head, she lets her magic go, directing it toward the stone.

The moment it makes contact, I groan and my grip on the back of her hands tightens.

Her engagement ring glints in the sunlight and even though my body is overwhelmed by all the pain coursing through it, I managed to smile as I remember how I slipped it onto her finger a couple of days ago.

Oh, what a beautiful bride she would have made.

There aren’t many things I regret in life, but not asking her to marry me sooner is definitely on of them.

I would have loved to call her my wife. I would have loved to raise kids with her and I would have loved to grow old with her by my side.

Now, all we have left is this moment and I’m sure as hell not going to waste it.

When the pain turns blinding, I grit my teeth and close my eyes, pressing my nose against Wanda’s neck to breathe her in.

Her body is shaking with sobs and the effort it takes to destroy the stone and there’s nothing I can do to help except comfort her in this defining moment.

“I love you.” I gasp, letting go of her hands to instead wrap my arms around her waist.

I keep saying it with my eyes squeezed shut until the pain suddenly stops.

I don’t feel anything for a heartbeat, but then my blood runs cold and I feel my knees buckle.

My grip around Wanda loosens involuntarily and my body hits the ground hard.

The last thing I’m aware of before slipping into darkness is a pair of warm hands on my face.

________________________________________________

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. . . *insert evil laugh*

Not proofread yet.

[zzeraphilm]

Fight For Me (II)

Part one Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (GN) word count: 3,803 Summary: When industries collide, Kuroo is reunited with the one that got away. But nobody is pleased to see each other.

“Oh Y/N!” Alisa Haiba screeched, bringing her old friend into a hug. “I’m so glad you took the role! Ah I can finally have a friend amongst my team.” 

With a laugh, Y/N only rubbed their friend’s back lightly, not to crease her outfit that will soon be shot in the new YSL photoshoot. It had been back in Melbourne did Y/N L/N and Alisa Haiba became acquaintances. At first it took Y/N a while to realise how they recognised Alisa, thinking it was just because they saw her face plastered on every major billboard on their way to campus. But the illusive fantasy of a celebrity was shattered when she spoke in her accented English and their high school memories came flashing before their eyes. From that day forward, their worlds collided. 

After a gruelling last ditch push to complete their masters, Y/N was lucky to have Alisa as one of their few friends in Tokyo. Since coming back to Japan, Y/N had forgotten how lonely the city could be. How they would blend into the crowd of faces, becoming another statistic on a long list of residents. They hated the city, they hated how the streets they used to walk down during high school remain untouched, how the faces of the shop owners only grow older, their frowns sagging to the floor. Getting out of Japan felt liberating, to come back to it all Y/N found themselves wallowing in the same self-pity that they found themselves suffering with during their teen years. Alisa was a reminder of the world outside of the city, she allowed Y/N to follow her on trips and try new exciting things to brighten their full life. When Alisa became the face of YSL Japan and her modelling career expanded beyond Asia, Y/N was thrilled to join their friend at the request to be her assistant public relations secretary. 

If I could get Alisa to be the most known face across the globe, I can finally start my life again, out of Tokyo. 

The desire to finally leave Japan behind, leave their past behind and explore the world beyond. Maybe, that could get rid of the sour taste in Y/N’s mouth every time they thought of Tokyo. 

Despite their extensive years in academia, books could not compare to reality. Piles and piles of paperwork, emails and meetings meant Y/N lived and breathed the Haiba siblings. Being a part of Alisa’s PR team meant being a part of Lev’s, it was a given to see the fellow Nekoma alumni at work. At first, Y/N was resentful. Nekoma was supposed to be long past them, just a floating memory of guilt and regret. Lev was advised by his sister to not pester Y/N about high school, about anything related to Nekoma especially anything about Kuroo. The first few months with the Haiba siblings were stressful. Lev was growing increasingly popular amongst younger fans, booking him on daytime television to speak about his latest projects was a breeze. More fans meant more fan meets and thus more work for Y/N. 

More work means bigger reach, and getting even closer to leaving.

With winter around the corner, Y/N knew there would be an exponential growth in events that would need to be covered. Press conferences, online campaigns, brand collaborations. Whenever Y/N closed their eyes, all they could see was the Haiba siblings plastered on the inside of their eyelids. Amidst the pile of work, Y/N noticed a oddly hand written note; 

‘Please please pleaseeee consider this one! I wanna work with Kenma and Chibi-chan T^T’ 

Lifting up the sticky note, the title page screamed out to Y/N. 

“Bouncing Ball Corp ft. Hinata Shoyo and Lev Haiba.” 

“Helloo~”

“Where’d you get this plan from? Who gave it to you? Is this some kind of joke? You’re a high end luxury brand model with limited television guest appearances, what makes you think I’d let you represent sports now?” Y/N’s voice boomed into the phone, causing Lev’s eardrums to burst and bleed from the noise shattering scolding on the other end of the call. 

“Kenma gave it me! He said his team told him it would be good to reach out to other famous people who knew!” He whined.

It was partially the prospect of being with Kenma and Hinata again, but more so, he craved the feeling of slamming a volleyball with his bare hands again. After years of maintaining his pristine image, his calloused hands had smoothened out, as soft as a baby’s bum. He was yearning for the thrill of the game again. 

“No. This proposal makes no sense anyways. Who even wrote this?” 

“Well it was someone on Kenma’s side! Anyways, he’s got a hugeee following on Youtube and Twitch! All people talk about on Twitter is his stuff! Y/N you’ve always wanted a big international gig, and I’ve found us one! Please, please, please, pleaseeee!” If Lev wasn’t in public he would’ve been on his knees begging, kissing Y/N’s feet till they said yes.

Indeed, all Y/N needed now was a major international break for the siblings, if they could book either a global brand ambassador position or an American modelling debut, then Y/N could finally relocate to anywhere but Japan. The Tokyo smog blocked their lungs each daily commute to work, the buildings never changed and the familiar scents of old stores and parks they used to frequent as a student became sickening. 

“Give me Kodzuken’s contacts and we’ll see.”

It was a wild goose chase to get the right person to contact. Email, after email. More and more useless contacts that lead Y/N to no helpful responses. Different representatives of Kodzuken and Hinata Shoyo till finally the Japanese Volleyball Association. After two weeks of this ordeal, Y/N was finally sent through to the person in charge of organising the project. But of all people, it just so happened to be Kuroo Tetsurou. Shit. 

Despite getting to chase around his old volleyball rivals across the world for scouting, interviews and just regular catch ups. Kuroo hated the mundane parts of his job, emails and project meetings. Managers up his arse about deadlines. His fingers were beginning to cramp into a contorted version of itself with all the typing he had to endure. He swore his email page was burned into the scleras of his eyes. 

Ping. 

Another one to the read later pile. It was fifteen minutes till the end of his shift, he wasn’t going to stay for overtime this week, he had made plans with Kenma tonight. After weeks of rejection, the self-made entrepreneur finally was willing to leave his room to grab a drink with his long time friend. Before he could shut off his monitor, he read the Sender’s name.

L/N Y/N. 

Holy fuck. 

He thought he had buried the last sparks of affection he had for Y/N the morning they blocked them. But no, like a phoenix, the embers within him burst into an inferno. Nothing could quench the burning desire he held inside. Kuroo had forgotten where he was, he was no longer stuck in a mechanical cubicle with the robotic tapping of keyboards echoing throughout the room. He was back in his Nekoma uniform, back with Y/N by his side. He could smell them, touch them and most of all kiss them. Their laugh was ringing in his head, he was high on their perfume. Kuroo begs to any mighty power above him or anyone who could hear his heart, for his yearning to cease. He thought he could leave it all behind but his body, no his soul calls for Y/N. 

A few clicks was all it took and he plummeted to the pitiful man he once was without Y/N. His eyes darted at the few sentences, he could hear Y/N’s echoing in his head reading to him.

I hope this email finds you well…Lev Haiba…with Bouncing Ball Corp…please contact me…best regards L/N Y/N. 

By some wicked power that festered inside him, Kuroo saw this as a sign from the universe. Finally letting Y/N back into his life. He could once again feel true happiness, the love that had left his heart with a gaping void for the last few years. 

Within a few weeks, each team was able to schedule the first table reading for the promotional video. The main plan to have it filmed over a course of two weeks, just in time before the Olympics in Tokyo. Time was of the essence and the only reason why Y/N was pushing themselves to succeed in this collar was the promise of a better life for themselves. The table reading was in a spacious meeting room curtesy of the Japanese Volleyball Association, the room stretched far beyond any hall Y/N had seen before. A titanic monitor casts its shadow over the table, a long aisle of varied refreshments framed the corners of the room. The chairs were individually cushioned, the carpet was soft with the richest woven fibres from the farthest corners of the world.

Y/N had arrived with Lev and multiple representatives from his team, Kuroo was stood under the frame of the entrance door, his jaw ajar. To Kuroo Tetsurou the mere sight of Y/N took his breath away, all he wished to do was run as fast as his legs could take him and embrace them with the strength of a thousand suns. Claiming them to be his all over again. He didn’t notice that Y/N’s face was getting closer and closer towards him, till they were stood shoulder to shoulder, face to face. 

“Mr. Kuroo, a pleasure to be working with you.” Y/N held out their rigid hand.

“…Y/N,” he whispered, as if saying their name aloud was punishable by death. 

“My name is L/N. I expect you to refer to me as such. We will see you inside.” Five seconds. Their reunion lasted five seconds, Kuroo couldn’t help but watch Y/N’s figure walk away, the closest he’s ever been to them, and all he can have in return is the sight of their back. 

“My god, they’re as beautiful as the day I lost them.” Kuroo uttered. 

The meeting went as smoothly as planned. Any issues were discussed thoroughly and everyone was confident in the project. But Kuroo paid no attention to any of it. His eyes could not keep off of Y/N. The way they’d speak so eloquently, unlike how childish they were in high school. He admired Y/N’s new found maturity, this chic version of his love, he was still entranced by their allure years after their split. However, his eyes would dart to the presence of Lev Haiba next to Y/N. A deeply rooted feeling of jealousy to the boy he once considered his underling. The Haiba siblings could see and be around Y/N every waking hour, yet the only time he had with them within his reach, lasted only five seconds. It wasn’t fair. He had assumed that Y/N had no more ties to Nekoma, so the thought of Y/N never cross his mind, till now. Seeing them beside Lev Haiba, sparked a new fire within his chest. Distant memories would flash in Kuroo's mind, younger versions of themselves, a first year Lev begging to meet and be around Y/N, his partner of three years. Jokes that he would push aside, confirming how Y/N was separate to volleyball and he had no intentions of merging these two sides of him. Yet there they were, in union with each other. Y/N and volleyball. He felt sick. 

“I understand that the sport is the focus of this project, but we mustn’t ignore the everyday audience who aren’t fans of the sport.” Y/N spoke with a tinge of spite, they never mentioned the sport by name. In case the moment they uttered its name, they would be shackled down to its legacy for all of eternity. 

“Lev is the public’s rising heartthrob, for both his looks and his humour, use it.” 

“Aw! Thank you Y/N!” The half-russian man tried to coddle Y/N only to be pushed back into his seat by them.

Kuroo Tetsurou was torn. He wished to be the one to coddle Y/N. He hated how formal this all was, never had he thought of Y/N as this pragmatic android that spouted the same endless bullshit his co-workers would repeat. He wanted to see them laugh again, he wanted to bring them crying on their knees from tears of laughter. Maybe if he did that stupid impression of their father that always made them laugh, maybe then Y/N would go back to how they were in school. 

The meeting came to a close and the rounds of production was set in stone. Kuroo’s work continued to pile, he couldn’t stay on set with the boys anymore than a day and any moment he did have on set, Y/N was never there. Filming ceased and everyone returned to their original teams, muttering away on their desktops and laptops to meet the deadline their bosses’ had set. Lev Haiba went back to modelling for big brands, Kenma increased the number of live-streams in the weeks forward after having a week off for filming. Whilst Hinata was preparing the announcement of him joining the Japanese National team.

Kuroo was stuck in his monotone cubicle again. The sight of his friends succeed in things beyond the mundane 9 to 5, that he was a  slave to, was not an idea that came to mind at first. Originally, he loved the thrill of working behind sports promotion. But now, as a settled employee, he felt his life drain by the second. Only the thought of Y/N pushed him, once the project is uploaded and succeeds, he could see them at the celebratory party. If everything goes to plan. Then he could finally speak to them. Apologise. Tie everything up in a pretty bow so he could feel, complete. 

The promotional video saw millions of views and trending hashtags across multiple social medias. They had, of course, prepared for this case. Releasing behind the scenes content, exclusive photographs and interacting with online fans.

It was as Y/N had planned, down to the T. It was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders, they knew within a few days the money would come rolling in through sponsors and new deals for their company. The Japanese Volleyball Association along with Bouncing Ball Corp allowed the teams to work in a private office space for the collaboration to increase cross communication. Y/N had spent night after night working endlessly on multiple PR plans that would cover all of Lev’s possible mishaps. The moment everything succeeded, they crashed. Their face plummeted to the keyboard and drifted into a deep slumber.

Y/N was at the entrance of Nekoma High, their uniform was slightly creased because they forgot to iron their shirt the night before. First day of high school and they already felt nauseous. They hated how their uniform sat on their frame, they hated how they had they ended up in a school where most of their old middle school classmates joined them. They felt stuck in an endless cycle of the same boring, mundane life they always lived. 

“Ya gonna go in?” 

The light spring breeze blew the tall boy’s black hair to fly upwards, revealing his other eye. He quickly flattened it to hide his forehead. He looked ridiculous, his jumper was slightly too big for him, his parents probably went a few sizes up awaiting for his eventual growth spurt. 

“L/N c’mon, let me copy your English homework! Just this once!” Kuroo pleaded, training behind Y/N like a cub to its mother. 

“Kuroo this is the fourth time! Remember last time, the teacher called your mom in for a meeting about you cheating!”

The boy had grown to tower over Y/N now, he was freakishly taller than the day they first met. His long limbs made him be twice as fast as well. “I’d much rather get told off for copying than get told off for bringing nothing at all.” 

With a huff, Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. Their dynamic was a breath of fresh air for Y/N, who previously was so used to an isolated world. But by Kuroo’s side, Y/N felt like they belonged. Somewhere within Kuroo’s circle, Y/N had a place fit just for them. 

Kuroo would always tell people that he asked Y/N out first, that he prepared a romantic dinner at his place and popped the question as if it was their last night on earth. In truth, Y/N caught him amidst his plans and cut him to the chase. But Kuroo Tetsurou, the ever-so secret romantic, wanted everyone to believe that he swept them off their feet. 

“If we’re going to be together we’ve got to do good morning and good night texts,” he huffed whilst Y/N’s arms cradled him into a tight embrace. They laughed in response for his childish acts, as a way to get back on ruining his plans on asking them out, Kuroo insisted on being as romantic as he could be with them. Holding hands, spooning, kisses in public. He didn’t care for the stares, he didn’t care for the whispers. He was happy. Y/N was happy. 

“Y/N,” Kuroo’s face was so close yet each time Y/N reached out their hand, it faded into nothingness. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” He kept calling their name yet Y/N couldn’t reach him. 

“Tetsu?”

A sudden jolt caused Y/N to shoot back up, their shoulders were covered with a distinct black jacket. Beside them was of course, the man who emerged straight from their dreams. Kuroo Tetsurou.

“Sorry but, they’re shutting the building soon. You shouldn’t sleep here, it’ll hurt your back. I know that very well,” he chuckled beneath his breath. 

Y/N hadn’t realised this before, but Kuroo’s eye bags had sunken deeper into his face. He had more noticeable crows feet and the wrinkles between his eyebrows had settled in already, quite concerning for a man still as young as him. He had changed his cologne again. He went back to the faint powdery scent, with hints of elderflower. The cologne Y/N bought him for their second anniversary. They didn’t know they still made that scent. His hands were still as calloused as they were years ago, bulging veins decorated his wrists and forearms. He maintained his built form, Y/N could see it through his button up shirt. He hadn’t changed much but was still an entirely different person.

“I was just tired Kuroo.” Y/N shimmied out of the man’s coat to return it, but Kuroo remained still. 

“It’s weird to hear you call me that.” He chuckled, “I was always Tetsu to you.”

“Yeah well that was when we were kids.” 

Kuroo smiled, a sad empty smile that held the years of regret that he harboured. Kids in love, he thought. 

“I’m going home now, thanks for waking me.” Before Y/N could step out of the office door, Kuroo grabbed their wrist. He knew this was the last time he would ever see them, he sensed it. The moment they walk out that door it’ll be over. He had to fight, it was now or never.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for how I treated you all those years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to you. I’m sorry I was never there for you.” 

Disgusted. Pained. Relieved. Scared. Y/N’s stomach felt like a pit of snakes colliding into each other, trying to consume one another but failing miserably. Kuroo Tetsurou was a shell of a man now, the pain of heartbreak that lasted an eternity was killing his body slowly. He hadn’t mourned Y/N properly. He hadn’t mourned their relationship properly. 

“Why?”

“Huh- What?” Kuroo asked, dropping his grip on Y/N.

“After all these years. Why are you apologising to me now.” You could hear a pin drop from the deafening silence between the two.

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you Y/N, I won’t ever stop loving yo-“

“Shut up.” This was straight out of teenage Y/N’s dreams, the Kuroo Tetsurou who was begging them to stay. The Kuroo Tetsurou that they used to cling to in hopes of a final embrace. He was finally right in front of Y/N. With glassy eyes, proclaiming his undying love to them, his body craving Y/N’s own. He was right there, and he was pathetic. 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. If you did love me, you would’ve done this the night we ended it. But no, you barely said anything to me. In fact what you did, hurt me more than our actual split. You left me. You left me alone. Not just in our time together. I was never included in any part of your life beyond me. Despite being together for three years, I was completely, utterly alone." Warm tears that Y/N had suppressed for years began to arise from the dead. 

“I thought you wanted me by your side, that you needed me because I had a place in your life. But you proved me wrong time and time again! I came second to everything in your life! Not once did I feel like a person to you. You took me for granted.” 

It was like a slap in the face for Kuroo Tetsurou, he hadn’t realised it till now. In his eyes, Y/N was someone he once wanted to possess, to have and hold forever. He saw them just like his old pair of glasses he lost down the coach pillows. It took a few blinks to realise in front of him, was a person who had seen love and loss, found liberation and had it taken away. A person who had worked their life away to see the riches of their hard work. When they were in Nekoma, Y/N would always cheer him on from the sidelines, he thought it was fine. He thought they were okay with just watching them afar, he knew they didn’t really like volleyball but he didn’t care to talk about it anymore. He didn’t care. He didn’t care for having Y/N meet his teammates and hang around them, he wanted to keep them to himself. He didn’t care. His indifference was his demise. After over five years, he realised this. 

“I have lived a thousand lifetimes since I left you. I think it’s time for you to do the same Tetsurou. Stop clinging to the past.”

Kuroo Tetsurou, the man who yearned the joys of his youth, could see clearly now. Y/N didn’t look back at the man. They picked up their bag and stepped out the door. Phone in hand, ready to dial up their friends, to celebrate a life well lived. 

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 19 — SIZE KINK

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, bulge kink, usage of nicknames.

WC: 0.8k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! here’s my second kinktober fic! i hope you all enjoy reading this:3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“Oh, baby. You’re so small, let me get that for you, hm?” 

You gasped when you found Jay standing right behind you, his hand easily reaching the shelf you were so desperately trying to reach from the past five minutes, the size difference evident. 

Jay had noticed just how small you looked next to him, how his hand engulfed yours, how his hugs were enough to hide your body from everyone, and how his cock barely ever fit inside your little cunt. 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with your friends by any means, yet he just so happened to have gotten muffins for you guys, almost entering the room before he accidentally heard your conversation. 

“He is so fucking tall, he must love the size difference,” your friend spoke up. 

“No, but seriously, does he pick you up and throw you around too?” Another one asked and you simply nodded, your expression displayed just how proud you were of this setting. 

Jay entered the room before you could verbally answer though, and he hated the timing cause he wanted to know what exactly was it that you thought about the size difference. But more than that, the fact that you liked it lingered in his mind. 

Even more so now that you were trapped between him and the kitchen counter. 

You turned around with a smile, grabbing the container from Jay’s hand while also thanking him for the same but he didn’t move, which made you look up at him in question, his eyes fixated on you. 

“Jay?” You asked, gulping. 

The worry in your voice only added to his need to have his cock inside your tight little cunt, wanting his newfound kink to fully take over his desires and actions. 

He was quick to take the container of cookies from your hands, settling them down on the counter before his thick fingers held on to your chin, “I’m sorry, baby. I can’t wait anymore,” he groaned.

His hand travelled down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it before pulling you into a kiss, eliciting a whine out of you. He kisses you hard, hard enough for your knees to give in. He only parted for a second to wrap his arms around your thighs, picking you up with ease and kissing you again. 

“So small, so sweet,” he mumbled, biting your lower lip while taking you to the bedroom, “look so pretty in my T-shirt.”

That was another factor which had him going crazy—how his T-shirt acted as a dress for you, covering your thighs and reaching your knees. Oh, you really drove him out of his mind. 

You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved to see him initiating affection, however, you had never seen him this worked up before. He puts you down on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs, rubbing soothing circles on them as he takes a minute to stare at you, making you feel smaller than ever under his intense stare. 

“Please,” you whimper gently, trying to pull him closer by the collar, and he lets you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing you even deeper. 

He backs away only to pull his shirt off, and get rid of yours too, wasting no time in parting your legs and holding them in place as you drooled over his well defined body, epitome of perfection. 

You wail, breathing in deeply as Jay immerses himself in tasting your wet folds, lapping and licking as his strong hands held on to your thighs, hard enough to leave marks, you clutched the bed sheets to gain some kind of hold on yourself, the sensation of arousal kicking in. 

That’s exactly when Jay stopped, making you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes before he got rid of his pants, his thick length coming in view, tip red and leaking. 

“It won’t fit,” you found yourself breathing out, causing Jay to smirk. 

He came closer, resting his cock right above the point where you needed him, his length on your lower abdomen, your eyes widening when you saw how deep his cock would be in you, stomach tingling at his reply. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make it fit tonight.”

The feeling of his cock ramming in and out of your body had your toes curling, Jay thrusted harder each time, reaching deeper and deeper, his hand kept on your abdomen to feel the imprint of his cock on your skin. 

“Jay—fuck! Too big,” you cried out as he kissed your tears away. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just a little more, yeah?” He whispered, his cock breaching you, reaching the part no one’s ever reached before as he bottoms out, stretching you deliciously, your back arching as you convulse, making him groan, cock twitching inside you. 

“So fucking tiny,” he mumbled, and you moaned, “you like it, huh? Feeling so small, so delicate under me?” He asked and you nodded breathlessly, making him chuckle and fuck you harder. 

It was the first time you had fully taken his cock in, and he was going to make sure you feel it in you the whole night. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

permanent taglist: @jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @jaysbiceps @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii

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taglist open! send an ask or comment to be added!

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[midwestprincesss]

PARTNERS IN CRIME | chapter 1

pairing: enemies to lovers patrick zweig x female!reader summer camp au

summary: after graduating highschool, both you and patrick look for a summer job. you, because you wanted to save some money before college. and him because he needed a place to sleep. you thought you finally got rid of him forever, after highschool. but it's patrick zweig, so c'mon.

a/n: it's a biiiit short i knoww but i'm tired so YEAH! sorry! loveu guys tho!!!!!!!!

contents: uh. some talk ab masturbation, patrick has a crusty cum sock but are we surprised, reader is literally patrick, they can't stand eachother but they also wanna fuck eachother, blahblahblah

taglist: @jackierose902109 @primlovesdilfs

prologue

''wake up.'' you heard a voice. a guy's voice. it took you a while to actually wake up and realize it was patrick, leaning against your door frame.

you groaned and threw your pillow at him. ''get the fuck out!''

he chuckled and picked up the pillow, throwing it back at you with more force. ''it's 8am. you have to get up, like, now.''

''ugh! why are you even in my room, zweig? have you been watching me or something? you fucking perv. go away!''you yelled, pulling the blanket over your head. and of course the fucker had to walk over to your bed and pull the blanket off of you.

''look, it's not my fault we got paired up in the same cabin. now if you stopped being a fucking bitch for once and got up, that would be great. we have to do the whole initiation bullshit with all those kids. get out of the fucking bed.'' he said and slammed the door.

it was an actual nightmare come true. patrick never had any concept of personal space, but you thought that maybe it was just a phase. turns out it wasn't. he looked almost ready to get into bed with you-but only so that he could push you off of it. not that you wished he would get into bed with you to do something else- no, ew. you'd sleep with anyone but patrick zweig.

but he did look good. and even though you didn't want to admit it, you knew it. he's tall, muscular and handsome. perhaps that contributes to your hatred for him. you couldn't stand it when he looked at you with those doe-like green eyes of his. or when he bit his lip at the most inappropiate times. or the way the muscles in his legs flexed when he was running. or how nice his freckles look.

but you were not attracted to patrick, god no. these were just little exceptions.

well, maybe this morning was an exception as well. the way he spoke to you turned you on, weirdly. he seemed so pissed off- he looks hot when he's angry. maybe that's why you get a kick out of annoying him.

you finally rolled out of bed with a groan, checking the time. it was, in fact, not 8 am, as patrick had told you, but 7:30. the fucker.

you decided on not going back to sleep anymore- mostly because you weren't that sleepy anymore but also because you didn't want to let your thoughts about patrick wander. the most ridiculous and embarassing thing would be to jerk off while thinking about that smug little bitch. you would have good excuses though- it was morning, you were just horny, blah blah blah. but still, the aftermath of it all would have been the most humbling experience ever so you decided it was best to just skip all of it.

after doing no efforts in making your bed, you headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth and put on a bit of makeup, then you put on a pair of shorts and a stupid t-shirt with the name of the camp on it. and just when you were about to leave the cabin, you noticed patrick's door was slightly open. would it realyyy be that bad if you looked around his room a bit?

no, it wouldn't. he barged into your room while you were still in there, sleeping, without even knocking. so it can't be worse than that.

you opened the door and looked around. it smelt like axe body spray and cigarettes. you looked up at the smoke detector and obviously it was covered with a shower cap. it was such a patrick thing to do. then, you noticed the fact that he hadn't made his bed. also a very patrick thing. but then you remembered your bed looks exactly the same so you quickly found something else to focus on- the fucking sock next to his bed. just one, singular sock on the floor- gross. so. fucking. gross. to think he was jerking his shit in a room right next to yours- just straight up gross. not hot- not hot at all. it's actually disgusting to think about him slowly stroking his big, throbbing dick with pretty moans falling from his lips (such a shame you didn't hear them). what was he thinking about? about you, maybe. but you hope it wasn't you, 'cause that would definitely not be hot- not at all.

when you opened the door you found patrick in front of the cabin, checking his phone.

you sighed, loudly, so that he could hear you. he did not react. you did it again- but still, no reaction from him.

you decided to break the silence. '' why the fuck did you come here? did you know i was gonna be here? your parents are fucking rich. you're basically swimming in money there, at your house. why couldn't you stay there?'' you snapped at him, slightly surprising yourself. you did plan on having this conversation with him, but you didn't expect it to happen so soon. it was like you were speaking without actually wanting to.

''wouldn't you like to know.'' he deadpanned, then continued to type something on his phone.

you stared at him, tapping your foot. ''you checking if i replied to that text you sent me three days ago? 'cause i didn't. and just so you know, i was not smiling at you.''

''it looked like you were. i bet you missed me.'' he finally looked up from his phone but without making eye contact with you yet. he was smirking. again. you felt like punching him. again.

''zweig, i swear if you don't shut up-''

''make me shut up, then.'' he said. so fucking cheesy.

''your stupid pick-up lines don't work on me. you're not gonna turn me into one of your fangirls'' you warned him, inching closer and closer to him. ''and by the way, i'll get back at you for waking me up earlier. you're a fucking cunt.''

he didn't reply anything. he just looked directly into your eyes, with his eyebrows slightly raised. it was almost like his face was screaming, punch me! punch me!

you ignored your violent urges- you figured it would be better to put all that energy into something else- maybe, instead of punching him, you could flood his room- something of the sort.

but of course, that would be quite impossible given the fact that you would have to pay actual money for the damage. so, maybe punching was still an option, but not yet.

''i'm starving. i'll go get some breakfast.'' you said as you started walking away. ''-and don't try to sit next to me at the table. it's enough i have to sleep in the same cabin as you- i don't want to be reminded of your gross eating habits.'' pickles and peanut butter, disgusting. you remember how patrick used to eat that, in the school cafeteria- like actually. and with people around him. and still- he got girls. somehow.

he immediately came running after you, laughing a bit- ''oh come on, i don't eat that shit anymore, i was like 15 back then. and plus- i don't know anyone around here-'' he tried to make a point, but you cut him off with a loud and clear 'no.' he sighed and rolled his eyes at that, but ended up sitting on the opposite side of the table.

the whole time you were having breakfast you could feel his eyes on you. only this time, he wasn't smirking or grinning or anything of the sort- he just looked like a lost puppy.

it almost made you feel bad.

[softbeej]

alastor cumming from just getting his ears touched by reader?

oh you may!!

Jazz & Liquor (Alastor x Reader smut)

“Ah, whiskey is your poison, I see? Mind If I have a glass? Always puts me right to bed.” Alastor asked, as you were curled up in the library with a scratchy record playing in the background.

“Be my guest!” You insisted, pouring him a healthy glass which he took with a wink before sitting beside you on the sofa.

“Reading anything interesting?” He questioned. He must be really sleepy; he always got a bit more touchy feely and talkative with exhaustion.

You shook your head no, closing the book and giving him your full attention.

“Just a old mystery novel, is all...”

He nodded, listening but clearly uninterested, “What brings you down here? You’re usually up in the radio tower at this time. Is everything okay?”

The attention was finally on him, and he visibly perked up at this.

“I’ve not managed to get much sleep these past few nights. Just wanted a little change of scenery, you see. Oh, how boring it can get up there all on my lonesome. You can visit, you know?”

You smiled, he was basically begging you to spend time with him. If you were to go up there, what would he even have you do? There’s only one chair up there - strictly his. There’s not even a sofa up there, it’s almost as if he specifically designed the room to deter anyone from loitering up there. You supposed, he could have you sit on his lap as he worked. Or he could have you just sit cross legged at his feet.

You almost shook your head to get rid of these thoughts, “Well, thank you, Alastor. I’ll certainly keep that in mind- Oh!”

With that, Alastor’s head was on your lap. He’d slowly been sinking into you as you were speaking, before his head just grew too heavy and landed in your lap. Almost immediately after he realised, his lazy eyes shot open, blushing and utterly embarrassed as he started blabbing a string of apologies at you.

You shushed him immediately of course.

“Al, Al, it’s fine! You sleep, you clearly need too...” You insisted as you gently lowered his head back down. He pulled his legs up on the sofa too, getting more comfortable. You scanned the room for a blanket for him, but didn’t want to disturb him.

Your nails raked through his hair as his eyes fluttered closed. Then, he purred as you continued. Your face reddened and you almost gasped.

“You like that? Feel nice?”

He nodded, “Mm...”

He probably wanted to downplay how much he liked it, but his involuntary purring clearly gave him away.

You kept scratching his head, moving closer to the base of his ears, where his hair changed into fluffy fur. His purring grew louder and rougher, giving you butterflies. His breath caught in his throat, and he let out a strange noise.

“Keep going? Feels... Good...” He said. Whatever butterflies you were feeling, he was clearly feeling tenfold, if you had to guess by the strawberry red blush covering his cheeks.

“Relax, Alastor... I’m here, relax...” You cooed.

You smiled to yourself as you saw his cock hard in his pants, straining the fabric and threatening the seams. Would he will it to go away? Excuse himself as he sorted his situation? Or just lay there seeing it through to completion?

His heavy eyelids fluttered open a little to watch you with blown pupils as you continued scratching, paying special attention to his ears now. You smiled as they flitted and twitched at even the lightest touch, and how he shivered in sync. You noticed he started to buck his hips up ever so slightly, as a nice wet patch of precum began seeping through the crotch of his pants.

Not like he cared, though. Instead he bucked his hips up harder, eyebrows knitting together as his tummy grew hot with arousal. With a final couple of rubs of his ears, he came hard right in his pants with an almost pathetic moan. His face relaxed, but his hips kept twitching involuntarily with aftershocks of the intense orgasm. The next thing you knew, you heard a deep breath and looked down to see him fast asleep. He’d have to deal with that mess in the morning, you thought as you drifted off.

[hitomisuzuya]

hi suzu, hope you’re doing well :3

May I ask a Scara x reader smut which has a flat chest? Like maybe we’re trying out a new lingerie that we bought to “please” him but we’re thinking that’s it does not look pretty on us..

Hope it’s clear..💥

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Nipple play. Clit stimulation/rubbing.

No worries, you were perfectly clear. Thank you for your patience😳

Feelings of inadequacy spread like a plague. Lately, you'd been noticing that some women were a bit more..chesty than you. And it made you think, like really think: was your chest too small for Scaramouche?

You'd brought up what he called nonsense three days ago, and today, much to his annoyance, he'd hardly seen hide nor hair of you. Once he arrived home, he could the bedroom light on underneath the crack of the door.

Scaramouche put a hand on the door knob, and started to open the door, only to have you push it shut abruptly. "No, don't come in here yet. In fact, don't come in here at all," He heard your nervous little voice behind the door.

"I'm coming in," He said simply, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. He put his hand on the doorknob, sighing when it wouldn't turn. You had your hand on it.

"No," You said vehemently.

Scaramouche decided to play a little dirty. "Look, I had a long day, and I just want to see you," That's all he ever wanted really. He took his hand off the knob and waited. He could practically hear your knees getting weak during the brief silence.

"Okay, just give me one second," You said, taking your hand off the doorknob, and attempted to make a break for the bed to hide under the covers.

However, Scaramouche hardly gave you any time. No sooner had you turned around his hand caught your wrist, stopping you. His indigo eyes slowly wandered up and down your body. There you stood, trying to wiggle out of his grasp in lacy black lingerie.

Scaramouche made circular motion with his index finger. "Turn," He commanded simply.

"Sc-Scara! No!" You protested. You couldn't control your hammering heart in your chest, and the sudden fear he was judging as your chest size.

"Turn, brat" You looked so cute all flustered and shy that he couldn't help but poke at you a little. He knew what this was about. How thoughtful of you to gift wrap yourself in a bow for him before he proved that he could never resist your breasts.

He licked his lips as he turned you in a circle. The words tumbled out of your mouth all at once. "I got this because I wanted to surprise you. But I don't think it-"

Scaramouche did not want to hear the next words out of your mouth. He touched a finger to your lips. "You look delectable," Putting his hands on your shoulders, he gently snapped one of your bra straps on your shoulder as he backed you up towards the bed.

"Are you sure my chest is big enough for you?" It didn't seem like he really heard you though. His gaze was focused right on your chest as he pushed you back onto the bed.

"I hope if you mind if I just," Scaramouche said as he crawled over you. Your eyes widened when you heard the flimsy fabric of your bra tear, "get rid of this. It's in the way," He carelessly tossed it onto the floor. He would buy you three more. Your breasts just cupped so perfectly in that bra. It made him twice as eager to get his hands, and his mouth on them.

"These," His hands folded around your bare breasts, giving them a long, thorough grope, "are perfect. Shall I show you," He leaned down, sweeping his tongue slowly over your nipple. He looked up at you, smirking when he saw you shiver. "How much I appreciate them?"

You let out a shaky sigh as his tongue swirled slowly around your nipple. When it started to harden into a sensitive nub on his tongue, he took it into his mouth to suck on.

He trailed his hand down your stomach, goosebumps raising in their wake. He prodded his tongue on your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure to your swelling clit. His hand slipped into your panties. He parted your folds, gathering your juices on his fingers.

Your back arched off the bed, louder moans sounding from you as his fingers found your clit. Any anxiety about your insecurities melted away, and you felt yourself relaxing and surrendering him in the way he always enjoyed.

One of your hands closed around the blankets, the other shaking as you put it on the back of his head. You pressed his mouth down onto your breast, your hips rolling up to grind into his fingers.

Scaramouche groaned against your breast, drool pooling between them as he sucked. His fingers danced wet and adept on your clit, rolling it between the pads of his fingers.

"That's my good girl," He purred his praise, taking his mouth off your nipple to turn his attention to the other one. "Let me appreciate them while I make you cum."

You gasped in pleasure as he flicked your other nipple, pinching it as he watched you writhe. Your body twitched with pleasure, your senses overwhelmed. You didn't know what you wanted to do. Grind against his fingers or arch your chest up into his mouth?

Every rub and pinch on your clit was beginning to send you reeling. He took your nipple in his mouth, increasing the pace of his fingers. He was determined to make you cum hard from just sucking on your nipples, spurring your orgasm on as he rubbed your clit.

Your pussy clenched as Scaramouche reased the tips of his fingers your entrance before sweeping them back up to your clit. "Don't you realize how fucking perfect you are?" He moaned, his cock throbbing and straining in his shorts.

No sooner had he said those words your orgasm suddenly broke over you. His tongue licked and swirled around your nipple, sighing content seeing your tremble from your orgasm.

He stroked and rubbed your clit to nurse you through your orgasm. Now he hoped this nonsense was put to rest.

[paulyenvol6]

Unsatisfied

Harry Styles one shot that is basically just smut without plot. Enjoy :)

Contains: adult content (only read if you're 18+), smut, fingering, oral (f & m) receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, soft and mean dom Harry, submissive reader, A LOT OF edging, aftercare, fluff

Wordcount: ~2.00k

Masterlist

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, y/n standing in front of him. „Take your shirt and pants off, love, and then come here.“ She pulled her shirt over her head and then placed it on the dresser, knowing that Harry didn’t like it when she just threw the clothes on the floor.

Then she took off her pants. Harry unshamingly regarded her exposed chest and the rest of her body, that was only covered by a thin pair of panties. „Good girl.“, he whispered and y/n felt herself getting wetter every second.

She approached him and Harry tapped on his thigh. „Sit.“, he spoke and y/n sat on his lap, his right thigh between her legs. He petted the hair out of her face and stroke her cheek. „You haven’t been very good lately, have you?“, he whispered. „I haven’t.“ „I haven’t what?“ „I haven’t, sir.“, she quickly corrected and looked at him with her sweetest expression.

Harry lazily ran his finger over her covered cunt and pressed his digit directly against her clit. Y/n shrieked and grabbed his shoulders. He rolled his eyes in response and grabbed her chin. „It almost becomes boring, sweetheart. Do you want me to fucking punish you? You’re always so needy for me and want me to make you feel good but you can’t behave.“

„M’sorry.“, she whispered and looked down. „I know you are. You’re gonna prove it.“ He pushed her down on her knees in front of him and grabbed her chin once again. „You’re gonna be my good girl?“ Y/n quickly nodded. „I will, please let me make you feel good.“ „Hands behind your back. M’gonna fuck your mouth. And I don’t want any complains or tears. Y’know your safe word and gesture?“ „Yes, Harry. Red and tapping your thigh three times.“ „Good. You’re gonna use it if you need, you promise? Don’t wanna hurt you.“, he asked with a serious look on his face. „Yes. I promise.“

Harry nodded and then ran his thumb over her buttom lip. He was so hard and needed a release so badly. He opened the zipper of his pants and got his cock out. Y/n bit her lip but didn’t dare reach out to touch him so she just watched him, shivering from excitement.

Harry ran the tip of his cock over her lips and then pushed inside of her mouth. He sighed at the feeling of her warm mouth around his cock and started to thrust in and out. He hit the back of her throat which made the girl gag and Harry soothingly touched her hair. „Good girl. Doin‘ very well f’me.“ His other hand held her hair and made her keep still so he could fuck her mouth.

It didn’t take him long until he felt the warm feeling building up in his stomach. He pulled y/n off his cock and stroke his cock, keeping him on the edge. „Where am I gonna put my cum, mhm? Think you deserve to swallow it?“ She looked up to him submissively. „It’s up to you, sir.“ He chuckled and made his decision. „Open.“, he growled and kept going up and down his shaft with his hand while his tip was inside her mouth.

He came and y/n felt his cum shooting down her throat. She choked but Harry kept her still with the hand that was inside her hair. „Fuck. Fuck, baby.“, he moaned and closed his eyes in pleasure.

When he had released every drop he felt his breath slowing down again and he pulled y/n, who had been licking him to clean him off his cock. Her lips were covered with cum. Harry ran his thumb over her cheeks and then leaned down to kiss her. „You were very good, love.“ „Thank you, sir.“

He smiled and then sat up again. „On the bed.“ She quickly obeyed and laid down on her back, excitedly waiting for what was going to happen now. She pressed her legs together to get rid of the pulsing heat between her legs that had gotten worse while she had sucked him off. Harry noticed it and chuckled. „So fucking desperate. Open your legs f’me.“

It was uncomfortable but she did as she was told and Harry crawled between her legs and spread her wider with his underarms. He could clearly see the dark patch on her panties and he once again pressed his finger against her clit. Y/n whimpered and tried to close her legs around him, but Harry forced her open again. „Stay open, m’not gonna say it again.“

He played with her clit for some time and then pulled down her panties. As he regarded her bare pussy he licked his lips. „So fucking pretty.“ „Please Harry.“, y/n whined and shifted on the bed. Harry smirked. „God, I love when you beg me.“ „Please, I need you.“, she whimpered.

„What do you need, honey? Use this pretty mouth and tell me.“ „Need t’feel your mouth.“, she whispered and Harry stroke her cheek. „There you go. Not that hard, is it?“

She shook her head and Harry slowly leaned down to kiss her right above her pussy. He kissed his way down until he softly pressed his lips on her clit and then licked from her hole up to her clit. His eyes rolled back at the taste of her and he softly sighed. „Could stay here forever.“, he mumbled and greedily licked into her while his finger played with her clit.

„Harry, fuck. So good.“, she whined. He switched to licking her clit with his tongue in small circles and the girl arched on the bed. „Harry.“, she cried out and dug her nails in the sheets. „I know baby. S’alright I got you.“, he whispered. When he saw that she was about to come, as her walls tightened and her panting got heavier he suddenly stopped his movements and raised his head from her pussy. Y/n immediately looked up with a suprised look on her face. „What are you doing?“, she asked with teary eyes.

„Spread your legs.“, Harry ordered and took a condom from the nightstand. „Why wouldn’t you let me come?“, she asked, her legs pressed together. Harry looked at her and stroke her cheek. „Cause I didn’t feel like letting you come.“ Y/n pouted and her lower lip slightly trembled. „Quit the whining, y/n. Maybe I’m gonna let you come later. Now spread your legs.“

She did as she was told, still pissed but Harry knew it would stop soon. He stroke his cock a few times and then ran the tip through her folds, stopping at her clit. Y/n whimpered and Harry could sense that she was already so messy and her mind was far away from the edging. He aligned his cock with her entrance and slowly slid in. She was so wet that there were no problems but he still gave her some time to adjust.

Then he started thrusting into her. His hand immediately wandered to her clit, as she couldn’t come from vaginal sex alone. He rubbed her in small circles and y/n fell apart under his touch. „Harry.“, she moaned and grabbed his shirt. „Yes Baby, I know.“ „M’gonna cum.“, she whined and Harry’s hand immediately left her clit. Tears welled up in her eyes and she desperately clung to his shirt.

„No, please keep touching me.“, she cried and took his wrist. In response he flipped her over so she was on her stomach and he started fucking her from behind. After a few minutes his hand went between her legs again to rub her clit, a touch that y/n welcomed even though she was scared that he’d stop again before she’d come. And he did, when he could sense that she was close he stopped his movement again and y/n turned around to look at him. „Harry, please let me come, I need it so bad.“ „No, but keep begging, I like that a lot.“, he answered and gave a soft slap to her ass.

„Please. Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?“ „If you were good you’d shut up now.“ She closed her eyes and looked to the wall again. Harry then stopped his movement inside of her and pulled out. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but suddenly she felt his tongue on her pussy again. He kitten – licked her clit and she felt like she was in heaven on one side but on the other side she found him incredibly mean. He licked her cunt as if it was his last meal but then once again stopped before she could come.

This time he didn’t immediately do anything after he was done so y/n turned around to see what he was doing. He stood next to the bed and opened his shirt. When he saw the tears on her face, he came up to her and cleaned her face with his thumb. „Sweetheart. It’s alright.“, he spoke while soothing her hair. „No, s’not. You came but I didn’t.“, she whispered. „But m’not done with you yet.“ „You’re mean.“, she pouted and Harry grabbed her chin. „Watch your mouth, baby. M’still the one in control here.“ „Yeah you are, that’s why you don’t let me come.“ „If I were you I’d be good now, so the chances that I’m gonna let you come are higher. Understand?“ Y/n nodded and Harry ran his thumb over her lips.

„Turn around.“ She layed on her stomach again and Harry lifted her hips so she was forced to be on her hands and knees. He didn’t waste any time and pushed into her again. He fucked her at a quite fast pace now and his touch on her clit met his thrusts. „M’gonna cum, Harry, please let me.“, she panted after a while and he soothed her ass. „Hold it, darling.“ „I can’t please.“ His hand traveled to her boobs and he played with her nipples. „You’ll have to.“

Her whole body was shaking and she grabbed the bedsheets. „But it’s so hard, please, I – “ Harry quickly pulled out of her and stopped his movement before she could come and she cried out. „Harry, I - “ „Give me your hand.“, he ordered and when she didn’t move he reached out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her hand to her back and moved it to his cock. He made her form a fist and started fucking her hand and y/n was too fucked out and powerless to complain about the edging.

„Fucking hell.“, Harry growled and released. Most of the cum painted her back and some landed on her hand as well. He threw his head back and felt his quick breathing. „God, baby.“ It took him some time to recover from his orgasm and then he grabbed her hips and carefully laid her on her back.

Now it was time to take care of her, he really had been mean to her. He removed the tears on her cheeks and kissed her gently on her lips. ��Such a good girl. M’gonna make you feel good now, I swear. M’gonna make you come, okay?“ She weakly nodded and Harry kissed his way down to between her legs. He didn’t waste any time now, he just wanted to make her come. His lips wrapped around her clit and he softly sucked on it while his tongue flicked it. After a few minutes her legs started to tremble. „M’gonna come.“, she whimpered. „Yes, come f’me, sweetheart. Come in my mouth.“

Her orgasm was overwhelming and she cried out his name. Her hands grabbed his locks and she pressed her legs together around his head. Harry licked her through her orgasm and then when he had gotten every moan and sigh out of her he laid down next to y/n, pulled her to him and caressed her hair. Then he got up to clean her. Y/n was half asleep and looked at him through half closed eyes. "It's alright, love. I'll be done soon and then you can sleep."

After Harry had cleaned her pussy, he brought away the washcloth and laid down next to her. She was asleep already and Harry soothingly ran his hand over her back until he was in the lands of dreams as well.

[slut4thebroken]

Ultimatum

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | stepdad!Emmett x reader

Summary | Your stepdad has made a habit of using you as stress relief. When you try to deny him, he gives you a choice.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, technically incest, very large age gap, manipulation, blackmail?, breeding, daddy kink, I need therapy.

Words | 1.4 k

Notes | I don’t think I’ve ever seen stepdad!Emmett smut and that is a crime. Also I can’t stop writing him + forced breeding🫣

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You groaned quietly when you started to wake up, confused about what you were currently feeling until you realized it was hands on your waist and lips on your neck. 

“Emmett… please. I’m tired.” You whined, just wanting to go back to sleep. 

“I know. I’ll be quick.” He whispered, kissing down to your collarbone. 

“Emmett..” You tried again, just barely attempting to squirm away from him. “I’m tired,” He pulled back and the look on his face made you nervous. 

“Tired from what exactly? Because I know it’s not from getting food and supplies or setting up traps.” You frowned a little— it’s not like he even lets you leave here… “So be a good little girl, keep your fucking mouth shut, and let daddy use you to get off, okay?” You blushed and looked away from him. You don’t really like when he calls himself that. Sure he’s your step dad, but he’s only been your step dad for like two years and you’re already 18. Of course you only call him Emmett, much to his displeasure. 

Once he was satisfied with your obedience, he pushed up the large shirt he gave you to wear, exposing your panties. He resumed kissing down your chest until he reached your breasts. You tried not to gasp too loud when he took your nipple in his mouth and slipped his hand below the fabric of your panties. He suckled on the hardened bud gently as his fingers started rubbing slow circles on your clit. 

“I don’t know why I still keep you around. You’re just one extra mouth I have to feed, one extra body I have to protect— and you can’t even do something as simple as helping me relax.” He said bitterly, making you pout. “Maybe I will get rid of you.” He threatened, moving to your other nipple to suck it into his mouth. 

“No…” You whined, feeling tears prick your eyes at the thought of having to survive like this on your own. “I’m sorry, Emmett.” 

“I keep you safe, treat you like my own fucking daughter, and yet you still call me Emmett.” He spat, almost viciously. 

“I’m sorry,”

“No. Say it.” He ordered, making you blush and look away. When he noticed, he leaned back up over your face and roughly grabbed your cheeks with one hand to turn you back to him. “Say it or I swear to god, I’ll get myself off with your cunt and then kick you out for good.” He growled and you let out a choked sob, not used to this behavior from him. 

“I’m sorry— I…” You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, not wanting to say it. You’re 18 for fucks sake. Even if he was your real dad, it’d still be weird as hell for you to call him that. His hand suddenly wrapped around your throat tightly, making your eyes open again. 

“Fine. You’re not gonna say it?” You let out a strangled whimper, staring up at him with teary eyes, silently begging him not to make you. Once he knew what your answer was, he reached down between your bodies and freed his cock before pulling your panties to the side and lining up. In one quick thrust he was fully sheathing his cock inside you. The pain made you cry out, but his hand was covering your mouth before the loud noise could escape. He groaned quietly and immediately started rutting into you, ignoring your muffled sobs and the way you tried to push his hips away to get a break from the painful stretch. 

“Before I get rid of you for good… I’m gonna do what I’ve been craving since I first got to feel your tight little cunt.” He gruffed. Once you realized what he meant, your eyes widened and for a moment you were completely frozen in shock. 

“No!” You tried to yell, but it was incoherent behind his hand. 

“I’m gonna fill you up again and again until I drain my balls completely, then I’ll send you off with my come dripping down your thighs.” You clawed at his hand and wrist, trying to pull his hand away so you could beg him not to. “Oh, now you have something to say?” He asked sarcastically, but you nodded anyway. The second his hand was gone, you were begging. 

“Please… please, I- I’m sorry. I’ll be good— I won’t complain, I’ll call you… that.” You said with a blush. “Just please pull out. Please don’t make me leave.” You whimpered. His thrusts got even rougher, pounding you so hard that you had to cling to his shoulders and bite down hard on your lip so you didn’t scream. 

“It’s just not worth the hassle anymore, kid.” He shrugged solemnly and you let out an almost violent sob in response. 

“Please! D-daddy, please…” You whimpered brokenly, making him groan. 

“Say it again. Tell me what you want.” He gruffed, rutting into your more desperately as he chased his orgasm. 

“I want to stay with you, daddy…” You cried. “Please let me stay— I’ll be good, I promise.” 

“Yeah? You want me to keep you safe?” He cooed, brushing some of your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek. You nodded, staring up at him with wide, glossy eyes as your bottom lip trembled. “Okay, you can stay with me, baby.” He said softly. 

“Thank you!” You could almost cry in relief. 

“But,” he said, quickly getting rid of all that relief, “this isn’t enough for me anymore. Doing all of this to keep you safe and healthy isn’t worth only coming in your mouth or on your body… If you really want me to keep you around, then no more pulling out. I come in your cunt or you leave for good.” 

“But, I— I’ll get…” You whimpered, voice barely audible. 

“I know. But having some kids will be good for you. It’ll give you something to do while I’m gone during the day.” He smiled, slowing his thrusts into a gentle rocking motion, but all you could focus on was what he said; kids. Plural. As in more than one. 

“Please,” you begged quietly, “I- I’m not ready for that… I’m only 18.” 

“Almost 19.” He corrected teasingly. “You’re going to make a great mommy, I already know it… But if you’re not ready, I’m not going to force you. There’s still another option.” Technically there’s another option, but it’s literally just death… “Better choose quickly, I’m getting close.” His thrusts sped up again as he focused on his impending orgasm, savoring the sounds his brutality was forcing out of you. 

“If you don’t choose, then you’ll be leaving here pregnant and you won’t be coming back.” He warned and you let out a loud sob as you cried. He cooed and cupped your cheek, but you heard the way his moans started to get louder. You can’t get pregnant… Not this young, not with all of the hospitals closed, not without a doctor— it’s just too dangerous… But not as dangerous as being alone and defenseless out there. 

“I.. I want to stay.” You croaked, staring up at his face that was blurry from your tears. 

“You know what I want to hear.” He said softly, but his thrusts contradicted his tone with the way he started rutting into you more frantically. 

“Please let me stay, daddy.” He raised his brows, silently telling you to continue. “I- I want your baby.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling as you cried silently. “I want you to— to get me pregnant, daddy.” You cried and he gave you a proud smile. 

“Good girl… You’re such a good girl.” He cooed, leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts got even harder. Without any warning, he forced his cock in as deep as it could go with a loud groan. His head dropped down into the crook of your neck as his hips bucked weakly, riding out his orgasm. The feeling of his breath on your neck as he panted and grunted quietly had you shivering, a new wave of tears rolling through you. 

When his body finally relaxed, you were completely frozen beneath him, unable to process what just happened. After another moment, he pulled back to look at you with a small smile before rolling you both over so you were on top of him. He hugged you close to his body, his cock keeping you plugged up as he got ready to fall asleep. 

“I’ll keep you safe.” He whispered, snaking his hand down to rub at your lower belly. “You and our babies.”

[c-o-t-o]

Veiled Whispers - Zayne (Part 1)

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Zayne x fem reader

CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut, explicit language, drunkenness, dubcon, teasing, bdsm (some CWs apply to other parts)

Misc: ~1.7k words, Part 1. This fic is supposed to take off where the 5 star memory ends with Zayne.

About: After falling asleep to Zayne's kisses, you wake back up to him taking more care of you. Zayne drinks more than he realizes and starts making moves.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

You wake up on the couch, vision a little bit blurry and struggling to focus. You look over into the kitchen and see Zayne cooking. What time is it?

“Zayne? What are you doing?” You ask while rubbing your eyes. How long had you been asleep after he kissed you and let you fall asleep on the couch?

“Cooking.” He replies simply. You look at the table in front of you and reach out to grab the small bottle of wine that you were gifted to sip a little more, and notice that it's almost empty.

“Did you…drink this wine? I thought you didn't want any.” You pout and swirl around the remaining wine in the bottle before taking a small sip and savoring the flavor. It was very sweet, almost like a dessert wine. That's why it was so delicious to have, and hard to stop drinking.

“After you fell asleep and left me alone by myself, I got curious. I tasted the wine and did end up liking it. I see now, it's very good.” Zayne seems to be stir-frying something and it smells delicious. You end up finishing the little bit of wine that's left in the bottle and get up to get rid of it. You walk over to see what Zayne is cooking, and see that he is stir-frying some noodles with meat and vegetables. Your stomach growls when you realize that you hadn't really eaten in a while since the banquet ended.

Realizing that you and Zayne are about to have a nice quiet meal together, you get excited and set the table. You light a small candle in the center, set the dishes and utensils, and pour a glass of wine for each of you from Zayne's bottle that he was gifted and hadn't drunk from yet. Sitting at the table, head in your hands, you look up at him giddy as he serves you both your food.

“It's not good to go to bed hungry, you'll wake up feeling even worse. I suspect you'll be hungover tomorrow, so at the very least, you shouldn't also be hungry. Enjoy." He says, motioning to your plate. Still feeling somewhat drunk, you happily oblige and start eating.

“Zayne, this is delicious. How did you make this? I didn't even know that I had these ingredients in my fridge." You say between bites. The flavor was perfect, the meat tender, and the vegetables still crunchy. If he wasn't there to feed you, you probably would have just rummaged through your snacks and finished a bag of potato chips or something before falling back asleep on the couch.

“Well, I…” Zayne somewhat bashfully covers his mouth with his hand and looks away momentarily. "You don't realize where we are, do you? For a hunter, it's not very good to be unaware of your surroundings.”

You feel your face turning red as you stare at Zayne eating. Looking around, you suddenly realize you're at Zayne's house. You had been there many times, so drunk you didn't even remember that you were briefly home before falling asleep. Zayne tells you how he didn't feel right leaving you drunk at home alone, so he brought you to his place to keep an eye on you.

You enjoyed seeing this side of him, it wasn't often that he took care of you in a non-medical sense. Plus, you don't know when you'll ever get a home cooked meal from him again, so you savor every bite. Especially because he could have just left you at home and went his separate way. Thinking about how he had to have carried you out of your house to his car, and into his house… it made your heart melt and your longing for him grow even more.

You and Zayne continue to finish your dinner, talking about random things like work and the banquet, enjoying your wine between bites of food. At the end of the meal, the alcohol hits you once again. You hazily look up at Zayne, who is sitting there across from you, staring off into space. You think how it's so unusual to see him so unfocused, almost in a trance-like state.

“Zayne? You okay…?” You ask, moving your face into his line of vision so that he's looking at you. His eyes move to meet yours, when you think you detect the slightest hint of red on his cheeks.

“I… I had wine with dinner…” his voice trails off.

“Yes? And?” You ask confused. You thought it was pretty obvious that you were both drinking the wine that you brought home from the banquet.

“It's just… I had forgotten I already drank wine when you were asleep on my couch. I-” Zayne rubs his eyes while his head sways a bit. "I don't drink often, so when I do, alcohol tends to take effect fairly quickly.” Zayne’s speech is a bit slurred. You giggle and look back at him with a heartfelt smile, your chest aching with longing for the man in front of you who was always just out of reach. “Or, I might just be tired. It has been a very long day, and I'm still awake taking care of you at this time of night. Yes, I'm sure now, I believe I'm just tired.” Zayne tries so hard to convince you, or more likely himself.

You move your fingers over towards his hand and rest them on his. Zayne looks over at you with his head drunkenly tilted, looks down at your hand holding his, and back up at you. He quietly chuckles to himself, but you can see his eyes smiling, a drunken twinkle glistening in them. The blush on his face starts to redden, as well, making your heart flutter.

“I'm really glad I'm here, Zayne." You confess. “We don't get time together like this very often." You find that you've started subconsciously rubbing the back of his fingers with yours, almost in a self-soothing way.

With all sense of restraint gone from the alcohol, Zayne suddenly jerks his chair back, scraping the floor loudly. You jolt and sit upright in response. He stands up abruptly, walking over to you, and grabs your face with both of his hands. He stares so deeply into your eyes that, for a moment, you swear he could probably read your thoughts.

“I need you. Right now." Zayne says quietly and deeply, slightly slurring his words. “Come with me." He demands, starting to walk away from you. When you hesitate, confused about what just happened, he somehow whips around (you assumed with how drunk he is that he would have stumbled after doing that) and picks you up bridal style. Zayne holds you up like it's nothing, and you can feel his rigid arms and body against you. He brings you into his bedroom and nearly throws you down onto his bed.

Zayne tries to play it cool, but you see him slowly coming apart in front of you. He looks down at you on his bed, his hair falling over his eyes. He keeps trying to comb his hair back with his fingers, but it's no use. Eyes locked onto you, Zayne falls to his knees on his bed, and begins to slowly crawl over you. He needs you, and he can't fight off the urges any longer. Zayne after too much alcohol is a Zayne that becomes starved for your touch. And he WILL get what he wants, no matter how hopeless he may end up looking. To him, it almost doesn't matter if he doesn't look cool, calm, and collected anymore, as long as it means satisfying his desires. In the end, it'll be a win for him, anyway.

Zayne holds himself up above you now, looking down at you so directly. Not used to seeing him so lustful and forward, you look away bashfully.

Zayne grabs your chin and pulls it so that you're looking back at him. You hear him swallow hard, followed by a slight pant while he tries to catch his breath.

“Be a good girl for me, won't you?" Zayne whispers with a voice so deep that it vibrates through you. He leans in to kiss you, but stops inches away from your lips. “Doctor's orders."

Your face blushes HARD. And you immediately feel a burning sensation between your thighs. Zayne moves in closer and closer to your lips, still holding your chin. He gets so close that you can feel his breath on your lips… when he stops, chuckles, and pulls away.

You can't help but whimper out loud, fully expecting that he was going to kiss you on the lips. Slightly annoyed from the tease, you pout.

“Doctor's orders? I thought you were only ‘Doctor Zayne’ when we were in the hospital. You said you're just ‘Zayne’ otherwise." Your eyebrows narrow in frustration, your heart palpitations turning to heartache as you want nothing more than for him to actually kiss you.

Zayne lets your chin go, but runs his fingers through the back of your hair, fist tightening and grabbing your hair slightly. He pulls your head up towards him, making you gasp out loud.

“You’re in Zayne's house now. Or have you already forgotten? Under my roof, you'll follow my rules, including my doctor's orders.” Zayne slurs, but still with a hint of sharpness in his words. He smirks, looking you over with his eyes. You open your mouth to say something back to him, but are cut off. Still holding a fistful of your hair, Zayne leans down and licks your lips, pulling your bottom lip into a bite. His teeth pull away at your lip until it leaves his mouth. You gasp, and Zayne laughs quietly under his breath. Still gripping you with one hand, he drags the back of his other hand down your face.

“I'll give you what you want… yes. But you'll do the same for me in return. And what I want right now…” Zayne pulls your head closer to him, his other hand now grabbing your bottom lip with his thumb on your tongue, “Is your mouth.”