#but I hate that I have to have my hand held through every fucking problem

[watery-melon-baller]

every time i do my physics homework I put on super Mario 64 dire dire docks theme (extended 30 minutes) in the hopes that eventually i can pavolv myself into immediately switching into physics mode whenever I hear the music. and also because its a bop

[likelysobbing]

𖥻 FOR THE STREETS. paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: baby, what’s meant for the streets will never be yours.

notes: based off hev abi’s song ‘para sa streets’ — made mainly because i wanted more paige angst on my feed . so like, give me my angst. might write a part two if this gets enough attention . the synopsis and overall theme is like a genuine LYRIC from the song btw. lastly. this is fiction guys this is completely NOT paige paige would never do this and i will not knock on wood three times when i say that because WE ALL KNOW PAIGE WOULD NEVER DO THIS. chill on me for a moment you guys …. (PART 2 HERE: STUNNED)

cw: once again, based off hev abi’s song ‘para sa streets’ so you KNOW it’s notorious player!paige, angst lowkey no comfort besides the fact that reader now hates paige’s guts, INFIDELITY + MENTIONS OF ORAL: paige gets head from a different girl, but i don’t write it explicitly because god forbid. lovers to exes. angsty, angsty, angsty. reader’s kinda a wuss. ignore the existence of curfews for this fic btw, thankies!

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even, but on your tongue?

it burns.

everytime you have to say it, you have to stop yourself from clawing your tongue off, skinning it clean of the layer that said her name—because you hate it. hate her. hate her stupid smile that’s all teeth, her eyes that she knows are pretty, all her muscles that probably wouldn’t help much in the event she got herself pulled into a scream-esque horror movie. you hate her fucking fashion sense … and how she looks better with all her clothes off.

you hate her.

hate how she lies through those teeth, through that smile, so easily—hate how she knew her eyes were nice and always gave you puppy eyes so you’d forgive her every apology, hated all her muscles and how when they held you, you felt protected—and when they held you down, you felt hot and bothered. you hate her fucking fashion sense with every goddamn bone in your body because deep down you know she looks good in every damn thing— but she looks the best with her clothes off. you hate her. you hate paige bueckers with every bone in your body.

but there was a time in which you didn’t. there was a time in which you looked at paige with love instead of the hatred you look at her with now, and a time in which you stopped her in halls instead of hoping you wouldn’t see her in them in the first place. there was a time you loved her smile, and her eyes, and drooled over her muscles—and that time? was the time of your fucking life.

and she chose to end it through a fucking phone call.

she always knocked on your door three times.

i love you— she said it through those knocks. you told her she didn’t need to, she was your girlfriend, she had special privileges (and a dorm key), but she insisted, because she wanted to say i love you before you even saw her. you always found it cute.

she was your girlfriend, then. she gave you toothy smiles whenever you went to her games, kisses throughout the campus because she believed a ‘hello’ was never enough, she even held your hand when she knew you were getting overwhelmed. she was, like, literally perfect. there was no doubt in your mind that she was it for you—she was the one. no worried looks from your friends whenever paige placed a hand on your hip, no whispers among students you didn’t know surfacing as you held her hand through a crowd could deter you. not even whispers of how paige had notoriously wandering eyes, or how she had a history of playing games with girls who didn’t know they were pawns. you were warned that paige wasn’t meant to settle down, that she was meant ‘for the streets’, and would never truly be yours— as they so bluntly, and also rudely, told you. you did nothing but scoff. those warnings did nothing. paige was it.

paige bueckers was the one.

you had no doubt about it. you were hers. you didn’t think twice about the wedding in spring you imagined, expecting it to be your problem in the future you had together, when in reality? paige didn’t even want you in hers.

it started with her smile.

her smile was all teeth back then, when you were still in that early honeymoon phase and you felt as if nothing in the world could tear you apart. she was always happy to see you— you’d know from the way her smile was always so big. so wide.

and suddenly, somehow, some way— on some random thursday, it faltered. you didn’t notice at first. she didn’t smile as wide anymore. when she saw you at her games, she nodded her head and went back to her bench.

you just thought she was tired. that was okay, you thought.

and then her eyes started wandering.

like the crowds you once easily ignored whispered she was notorious for, her eyes started wandering. she looked at a cheerleader, her eyes trailing down the girl’s slim waist—and then the next week, she was looking at a point guard from another team; she just kept… looking.

by the next month she was looking at every one else besides you.

there were times when you locked eyes, and paige always did love those moments—you’d have a staring contest, and those butterflies in your stomach made simply because of paige looking at you so intently it made you feel like the only person in the room? well, you always fuckin’ lost. paige loved looking at you.

it’s why you noticed when she stopped.

suddenly, her arms didn’t wrap around you anymore.

there was no longer the familiar warmth she brought with her, no sign of the tight, constrictive hold that was somehow comforting. when paige hugged you, she did it with one hand. she pulled away first.

you always joked about paige’s arms being a cage.

unfortunately for you, that cage was all you knew. and when it began to open, you didn’t want to go. so you didn’t. you stayed with her. you stayed with her, and she got worse.

by then, she had stopped knocking three times.

by then, she had stopped coming. coming through for you, and coming to your dorm, and coming to you in general.

you don’t know why it only took you that one fantastic (sarcasm detected!) night to really leave.

CONNECTICUT — 2:54 AM, BELDEN HALL (UCONN ALUMNI QUAD DORM)

11 missed calls, exactly 29 texts and counting, and thirty minutes pacing around your dorm, as small of a space as it was—paige promised to be back by 10:30 . that was exactly four hours and and 24 minutes ago. safe to say, you were fucking horrified. she promised to be back by 10:30; you were going to have a movie night together. your popcorn is untouched now, cold and stale.

and she is still not back.

so you call again.

there is exactly three rings before she finally answers. you gasp, a sigh of relief escaping you. her name is so sweet on your tongue.

“paige!—“

there is a click of her tongue on the other line and the giggle of another girl that makes your ears ring. “what?” she groans, “what is it?”

“paige?” you repeat her name again, softer this time, a tingle on your tongue.

“bro— hhh—fuck, right there, right there—what is it?”

a blade pierces your heart. “paige, what are you doing?”

there is a shuffle on the other line. she stays silent for a moment, the only sound from her is the soft sighs she let out and slurping you choose not to hear. you might puke.

you swallow down bile that feels like blood, and ask again.

“paige, what are you doing?”

“getting great head.”

you didn’t expect her to be so upfront, hoping that maybe even in all her drunken stupor she’d end up softening the truth. she didn’t. you froze.

your mind was moving a mile a minute, and so in desperation to just speak—you spoke with your heart. and all your heart had?

“why?”

it was broken enough for a mocking scoff to be heard on the other line, “why?” she repeated.

every word she said there after pierced a new hole through your already bleeding heart.

“i don’t give a damn ‘bout you, baby. what are you on?” she groaned, and you could hear her eyes roll from here— “i was just feeling ‘lone lately, you know how it is…”

by then, you knew she meant it. you stifled a sob. by then, you knew she meant it—but you still said, you still said— “you’re just… you’re just drunk—“

“you get drunk too, don’t be a fucking drama queen. i know you. from head to toe, actually.” it’s mocking, and you bite your lip— “you know how it feels to get— ohhh fuck, fuck that feels good, that feels good,”

you could barely believe her own audacity. she was so shameless in her disloyalty— with every moan, rage reverberated through your body. with every giggle you heard from that girl on the other end, your fist clenched harder.

and yet, trumping every other emotion, was sorrow.

“we’re done, paige.” you said, through a hoarse, shaky voice. “we’re done.”

“are we?”

“yes, we are.”

“but you stayed this long, baby. if i get bored again, i might need you. you’re so grumpy all the time, you— fuck, fuck— you know? when you’re with others, you’re grumpy, but with me, you’re so sweet. when you’re with me, your ass is flirty— all that pain you told me about disappears, right? that’s funny. you’re a pain in the ass when i’m tryna get a quick fuck in. gotta stay loyal to you… but nahh… i’m bored, actually. real bored. like super, super bored. but it like really depends—“

why are you letting her speak this long? there are tears in your eyes, and you fear your skin might split if you keep clenching your knuckles this hard. why are you letting her speak this long?

you don’t want to stop hearing her voice.

you don’t want to, even if she made you wait for four hours and 24 minutes, even after all she’s put you through—even after every second passing right now, in which you find paige has probably been continously cheating on you.

“paige,” you try again. you interrupt her. this time, her name on your tongue burns. it bleeds like a cut, aching. “paige, just… stop.” you defend yourself pathetically, you acknowledge it, you cannot stop it—but maybe, you can stop her. “just stop.”

“…okay?“

okay, is all you get. that’s all you get.

you open your mouth to speak, but you’re cut off by paige’s pornographic moan that claws at your brain the moment you hear it—and then a click is heard.

paige ended the call.

paige ended it all.

you would’ve collapsed if you weren’t already slumped against your bed in tears. you fall asleep with your head resting against the edge of your mattress and a bucket of popcorn untouched by your desk.

and the next morning, there are no more missed calls. your roommate knows about your breakup before you even tell her; she tells you paige was fucking drunk off her ass last night, and she announced it at the party in a tone so jolly it made people double over and laugh. your roommate heard paige say that she was free, now, and that the moment she said so—a bunch of girls had came near her corner. they were waiting.

your roommate can’t resist saying ‘i told you so’.

this time, you don’t even think to defend the person you thought you’d willingly spend your whole life defending.

instead, you say, “you were right.”

because she was. as unheard of as it seemed back then, she was right.

what’s meant for the streets would never be yours.

@likelysobbing.

[alexlwrites]

𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where you hate your boyfriend's best friend. Lucky for you, your boyfriend's other best friend's girlfriend hates her too.

OR

Hoseok's girlfriend will not let you be disrespected.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Angst, Short.

✿ 𝐀/𝐍: this is Aera, btw. We all need one in our lives.

Anyway, very short and silly one shot. Maybe one day I'll write YN or JK's POV.

°•. ✿ .•°

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi <3)

°•. ✿ .•°

Aera had, as a personal rule, the habit of not meddling in other people’s businesses. Her own were already too much of a burden and she was not put on this earth to overwork herself with someone else’s problems. They could it either solve it on their own or fuck off, as far as Aera was concerned.

But everything had a limit and you, with your kind ways and pretty smiles that had sneaked your way into Aera’s very tight circle of friends, were just too nice for her to just watch you suffer. After all, she was a girl’s girl through and through.

Except when it came to Eunjae. That bitch could choke and no amount of girlhood talk would change Aera’s mind.

It all exploded on a cold Friday when the whole gang got together to meet at a bar, squeezing into a booth. There was Aera, her boyfriend Hoseok, his friends Jin and Yoongi on one side, sharing a plate of fries. On the other side, Namjoon, you, your boyfriend Jungkook and Aera’s number one public enemy, Eunjae.

Eunjae had been a childhood friend to the boys, knowing them for many years as they held on to her like a security blanket. And that would of course not bother Aera at all, if Eunjae had any sort of common sense or boundaries. She seemed to think there would never be another girl in the group and she would forever remain their collective girlfriend, leaving no room for anyone else.

But Aera, fearsome and outspoken, had cut that evil from the root at the very beginning, making clear to Hoseok that she would not allow herself to be antagonized. Either he spoke up or she would walk out. Not buts. 

Unfortunately, you were not as assertive as her. And even worse, Jungkook seemed to be Aera’s favorite target.

You and Jungkook had been dating for quite a few months and it was clear to anyone with eyes that you did really like each other: you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the skies and he brought you up in any possible conversation. 

And so, of course, Eunjae hated you. But men were way too simplistic to pick up on her veiled and nuanced aggression, so even though Aera could see clear as day how much Eunjae bothered you, Jungkook never seemed to notice a thing.

It was all in the way Eunjae seemed to drape over him anytime he showed up, throwing herself in a way that made him drop your hand in order not to lose balance. It was how she never allowed you to call him Kookie, as that was “my nickname for you, is it not, Kookie? That’s our thing!”. And, as if that wasn’t enough to trigger even the chilliest of girlfriends, it was the way that every time you had a date schedule, Eunjae suddenly had an emergency that only Jungkook could solve.

And he would go, leaving behind a teary eyed you and an awkward shuffling Aera that did not know how to console you without telling you that you should dump Jungkook’s ass and punch Eunjae on the tits.

So Aera said nothing. And she would stay like that, if that night Eunjae hadn’t pushed her luck a bit too far.

“Oh my God, Kookie!” she exclaimed in the over strident voice she always seemed to have, making your eyes roll in annoyance at the nickname “You’re never gonna guess what I just got!”

Aera exchanged a sympathetic look with you over the table.

“What?”

“Tickets to tomorrow’s baseball game! For all of us! Isn’t that cool?”

The boys whooped in celebration, crowding around Eunjae to check the tickets she had on her hand. But Aera was the one that saw you freeze and look at your boyfriend with the saddest eyes in the world.

He, of course, was too busy staring at the stupid piece of paper. But Aera could see the satisfaction in Eunjae’s eyes, and so she asked “How many tickets did you get?”

“Only six, sorry!”

Aera huffed “Yeah, what a bummer.”

But you were still focused on your boyfriend. “Baby” you called pitifully “but we had plans tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you guys can reschedule, right, Kookie?” Eunjae said and Aera never before in her life wanted to twist someone’s neck so hard.

Ok, there was that time that dude cut the line at Five Guys and she was really hungry. But this was a close second.

“Yeah, baby.” Your dumb boyfriend agreed and if heartbreak was audible the room would’ve exploded in sound at that moment if your expression was anything to go by “You can hang with Aera tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay” you agreed, eyes teary as you hid under a curtain of hair. “Actually, it’s getting late. I think I’m gonna go. I’ll see you all later” and before anyone could say anything, you picked up your purse and left.

And now Aera was furious, as no one seemed to notice nor know why you were so upset and you were way too nice of a girl to be disrespected like that and still manage to not make a scene. “What a saint” she mumbled.

Eunjae scoffed. And that was Aera’s breaking point.

“Yup, okay, I’m done” she raised her hands and stood up from the booth. 

“Baby?” Hoseok called, surprised by her sudden anger. 

(He shouldn’t be. Aera was always at least 5% pissed off, like the Hulk.)

“I really tried not to say anything out of respect for your truly dysfunctional friendship, but I had enough. You” she pointed at her boyfriend “if you pull half of this shit on me, just know I’m dumping your sorry ass and putting a curse on you. Like, your penis will actually fall off. You” she turned to Eunjae, who seemed only mildly bothered at her explosion and that pissed Aera even more “are the evilest bitch on earth to pull this stunt on a girl as cool as Y/N and I hope you know you’re lucky she’s so nice, cause if that was me you would’ve been bald in a ditch right now. And finally you” she at least turned to Jungkook, who seemed stupidly shocked at her outburst “that girl will dump you anytime now and although I truly love you like a brother, she deserves better than what you give her. Oof, that feels great to get out of my chest.”

The table was silent for a while before Eunjae screeched “Are you just going to let her talk to me like that?!”.

Hm, yes they were. No one wanted to lose their penis and Aera was fucking scary.

“W-what do you mean Y/N is going to break up with me?” Jungkookie asked, looking truly upset at the news.

“C'mon dude. You’re lucky you’re handsome cause clearly your head is just a hat rack if you can’t figure that out.” Aera looked around the circle of flabbergasted men “Really? No one? Ok, let me explain in a way y’all dumb dumbs can understand: Jungkook, how many times in the last few weeks did you and Y/N hang out just the two of you? Like a date?”

“Two times, maybe?”

“And how many times did you hang out with the wicked witch of the west right here?”

Jungkook winced and did not answer.

“It’s not his fault that I’m more fun to hang with!” Eunjae exclaimed.

“Ay, don’t say that” Jungkook tried to defend you but by then it was too late.

“And how many times were you hanging out with Y/N and this soon to be bald bitch called you and asked to see you?”

No answer.

“And did you go?”

Silence. Guilty silence.

“Yup. That’s what I thought. And finally, do you know what day tomorrow is?”

Jungkook frowned “Tomorrow? We had a date planned, I guess.”

“You guess, huh?” Aera let out a strangled laugh that made Namjoon slide under the table a bit “Tomorrow was your girlfriend’s birthday, dumbass. And you know how I know that? Cause I heard Eunjae ask her in the girl’s bathroom about her plans before she suddenly appeared with these magical tickets. So!” Aera clapped as Jungkook’s mouth opened in horror and other boys cast disappointed looks at Eunjae “I hope you all enjoy the game and I do hope the ball hits you bitch straight on the head and you get amnesia and forget what a terrible person you are. And finally I do hope Y/N finds herself some back bone and breaks up with you tomorrow because what a birthday gift would it be to be free of this clusterfuck. Anyway, good luck to you all.”

And with that, Aera left, going after you cause she would be damned if she left you alone. After all, she was a girl’s girl.

[prythiansprincess]

MOONLIGHT

home | writing | inbox

🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: moonlight by kali uchis.

🤍 author's note: high! theo is the best kind of theo. gif credit to @dramaticals

A thick cloud of smoke permeated the air, making the room as hazy as your drug addled mind. Theo shifted in your lap and silently held the joint up to your lips. You smiled down at your best friend, his watercolour eyes as red-rimmed as your own yet still full of that familiar sharp intensity as he watched you with curious intent. Wrapping your lips around the blunt, you shied away from his gaze and inhaled generously. 

As the smoke filled your lungs, you felt your body relax. With an exhale, the terrible day you endured was gone in a breath. You rested against the headboard and let your eyes shut close. Theo traced circles on your skin, happily humming away while you scratched his head. Smoking always made the two of you more touchy and giggly, blurring the lines even more than they already were. 

Not that you were complaining.

A late night smoke session was exactly what you needed. Usually, the two of you would be indulging in Neville’s newest strain up in the Astronomy Tower, but thanks to the storm raging outside, you and Theo were confined to his dorm instead. 

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. Especially since Theo had a generous stash of snacks to pilfer through. 

“This new shit is strong,” Theo remarked, coughing a bit as he waved away the smoke. Above you, rain drops pelted the skylight in a soothing rhythm. “How does Longbottom even come up with this stuff?” 

“Because,” you drawled, every syllable slow and syrupy. “Neville actually pays attention in Herbology instead of skipping class and getting into fights.” 

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, bella,” Theo pouted as he poked his nose against your stomach. “Didn’t you get detention for taking a swing at Cho this morning?” 

“She called me a slag,” you recalled with a frown. While you had no problem with Cho, she seemed to have a problem with you. All thanks to a certain Hufflepuff. Theo tensed underneath you, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “As if it’s my fault her boyfriend can’t stop staring at my arse.” 

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve taken care of it.”

You sighed deeply. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Teddy. You tend to be a little overdramatic.” 

“Me?” Theo asked incredulously as he placed the joint on its holder. “Overdramatic? That’s absolutely absurd.” 

“I know you hated Cedric. When we were dating, he told me you threatened to beat his face in if he ever broke my heart.” Your best friend began to protest, but you held your hand up. You didn't fault him for being overprotective. After all, you've been friends with Theo long enough to know that this is just how he showed that he cared. “I'm not mad. I just didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.” 

“That stupid prat poured gasoline on the fire and lit the goddamn match the day he made you cry.” Theo ranted, his eyes glazing over with fury. “I should've made good on my promise to beat his fucking face in. He’s lucky you stopped me before I sent him to the infirmary.”

"It's not worth it, Teddy."

Your best friend shook his head. "It's always worth it when it comes to you."

“You shouldn’t get into trouble just because I have terrible taste in men.” Time and time again, Theo warned you about the guys you chose to date, but you were too stubborn to listen. You laughed humorlessly. “I really know how to pick them, don’t I?”

“Hey,” Theo whispered softly, tracing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not your fault your ex-boyfriend’s a prick. He’s an idiot for fumbling you.” 

You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Thanks, Teddy.” He hummed and squeezed your hip. “It’s not like I’m that broken up about it. I’ve just come to accept the fact that my love life is a complete shit show.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, Cedric had his moments, but even when things were good, it always felt like something was missing. We just weren’t compatible,” you paused as you considered your words. “Cedric and I weren’t a good match. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.” 

Theo cocked his head curiously. “What do you mean?” 

Given your longstanding friendship and history, there were virtually no secrets between you and Theo, but there were aspects of your past relationship with Cedric that you weren’t as forthcoming about. Your best friend wasn’t exactly your ex-boyfriend’s biggest fan, so you skimped out on on the details to keep the peace. That was long gone now.

“Our sex life was kind of…bland.” 

Piercing blue eyes zeroed in on you. “What do you mean by bland?” Theo pushed himself upright, his face mere inches away from yours. “Was it just missionary and a polite handshake afterwards? Honestly, Diggory seems like the type.” 

You snorted in response. Theo wasn’t that far off the mark. “Basically, yeah. I just don’t think we were sexually compatible. Plus, he never wanted to go down on me.” 

Theo looked absolutely appalled. “What?” 

“Well, we tried and it didn’t really work. It’s not his fault, though. Oral just doesn’t do it for me. I’ve never…” you flushed as you rushed past the embarrassment of admitting such intimate details to your best friend. “I’ve never finished that way. I think it’s just a me problem.” 

“Let me get this straight,” Theo said matter-of-factly. “Cedric ate you out once, couldn’t make you cum, and then made you think it was somehow your fault?” 

“Cedric wasn’t a dick about it or anything,” you said rather lamely. “He just never tried again, so I figured that was that.” 

“That’s a fucking shame.” 

You shrugged. The past was in the past. It wasn’t like you could change things now. “It’s alright. Like I said, maybe it’s just not for me.” 

Theo stared at you. “You’re just saying that because he didn’t do his job properly.” 

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully smacking his arm. “And you’re suddenly an expert on the matter, Teddy?”

“I sure am,” Theo exclaimed proudly. “Cedric’s a coward for backing out after the first try. I mean, sure, it took me ages to get the hang of it, but now eating pussy is my favorite thing in the world.” 

Heat flooded your cheeks. Part of it was shock and the other — well, you didn’t want to think of what that other part might mean. Talking about sex wasn’t anything new for the two of you, but it was always in a teasing way. It was never quite this personal. 

“Oh,” you said after a moment. Theo watched as you shifted, trying to alleviate the building pressure between your legs. “I didn’t realize…” 

“That I love eating pussy?” Theo asked with a smirk. You knew he was doing it on purpose. He never missed out on the chance to tease you. “I’m really fucking good at it too.” 

You didn’t doubt it. While you tried not to feed into the rumors of your best friend’s bedroom habits, you knew that he was much more experienced than you were. Judging by the longing stares that followed in his wake, Theo wasn't the type to leave his lover unsatisfied.

After a moment, Theo spoke. “I can show you,” he rasped, that thick Italian accent of his bleeding through the words like it did every time he smoked. “If you’d like.” 

You blinked in surprise, practically gaping at your best friend. “You want to eat me out?” 

Theo nodded, his eyes dipping to your mouth as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. “More than anything in the fucking world.” 

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. “Let me show you how it’s done, bella,” Theo whispered as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Though the action was innocent, his words were far from. “I’d get on my knees and beg for a taste of you. I promise not to stop until you’re a crying, whining mess for me.” 

Desire bloomed in your core, filling your stomach with butterflies. Fuck, why was that the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you? What were you supposed to do? Refuse? That wasn’t even a possibility at the moment. After all, you were just a weak, weak woman. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Theo asked softly. 

“Yeah,” you answered confidently. “I trust you, Teddy.” 

Theo smiled and leaned forward to place a kiss on your temple. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now lay back, I’ll make you feel so good, bella.” 

A nod was all that you could muster as you settled amongst the pillows, watching with rapt attention as Theo crawled between your legs. He kept his gaze on you as he kissed your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin. You leaned into his touch as he licked along your collarbone, his big hands slipping underneath your bra. Theo unclasped it quickly, nosing at the straps before kissing down the valley of your breasts.

Those dead eyes came to life as he flicked his tongue over your nipples, sucking on them until they stiffened. You shuddered in response and Theo savored the tiny whimper that slipped past your lips. After showing your breasts ample attention, he continued mouthing at your torso, nipping and biting on the way down. Every sensation was heightened by the weed, your body buzzing even at the simplest touch. 

Theo parted your legs and maintained eye contact as he toyed with the tops of your knee socks. He smirked and kissed the spot right above them. “We’ll keep these on, yeah? I like when you wear these.” 

You held your breath when he bunched up your skirt, leaving filthy, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs. His breath felt cool on your core yet your entire body ignited into flames as Theo kissed you through your lace panties. 

You gasped in surprise, bucking your hips against his mouth. “Oh, fuck…” 

Theo hummed against you. “Does that feel good, principessa? I haven’t even started yet.” 

With a cocky smirk, Theo slid off your panties and groaned. You were embarrassingly wet, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he relished it. Theo teased two fingers along your folds, spreading your arousal and watching as your slick soaked him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” His eyes were nearly black, swallowed by lust as they flickered up to your face. “I bet you’re sweet too.” 

Theo popped his fingers into his mouth, pretty eyes rolling back as he sucked them clean. “Gods, you’re so fucking delicious. Better than I imagined.” 

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together to tamper the need. Theo shook his head before prying your legs apart and diving in. When he dragged his tongue through your folds, you writhed underneath him, eager for more. The first lick had both of you moaning. He hummed in appreciation as he hooked your legs behind his shoulders. 

He chuckled darkly, before biting softly at the flesh of your thigh. “You like that, huh, bella?” 

You panted, frowning down at him. “Stop being a tease, Teddy.” 

“As you wish.” 

His dark head disappeared between your legs, silky brown waves slipping through your fingers as you held on for dear life. Theo wasted no time in showing off his skills, poking and prodding with his tongue. You tugged at his hair as he sucked on your clit, lightly grazing his teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Theo popped up to take a hit off the joint before passing it over to you. His slender fingers held them up to your lips before slinking down to continue eating you out. As you held the smoke in your lungs, you inhaled deeply, letting the drug that was Theodore Nott singe your veins. 

Nothing in this world could've prepared you for this moment. Theo wasn't exaggerating his skills. If anything, he underplayed just how good he was. Theo switched strategies often, starting off slow and sweet before swirling and sucking, fucking you with his tongue like he’d never get another chance to taste you again. Once in a while, he’d come up for air, smiling as you offered the joint to him. 

Mostly, Theo was focused on feasting. He made out with your pussy shamelessly, making it as sloppy and messy as he possibly could. The higher you got, the more sensitive everything felt. When Theo found a particularly sensitive spot, you arched your back and nearly scorched his sheets with the joint. 

Theo only chuckled before taking it from your hands and putting it out. “You’re on fire, bella. But I’d prefer if my sheets weren’t.” 

You smiled shyly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” 

He flashed a boyish grin back. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that we didn’t do this sooner.” 

“Me too, Teddy.”

He smiled softly at you. “Sei la donna più bella che abbia mai visto.” 

Before you got the chance to ask what he said, Theo pulled you by the ankles and picked up where he left off. He made good on his promise, driving you to the brink until you were writhing and whining. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you gasped, moaning his name in the night like a prayer. It only encouraged Theo to show off even more, using a combination of his mouth and fingers. His middle and pointer finger slid inside of you easily, squelching while he worked you tirelessly. 

There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as you lost yourself to pleasure. When Theo introduced a third finger and flicked his tongue on your clit, a rush of heat flooded your body. 

“Oh gods, Theo. Please. I’m so close. Fuck — ” 

“C’mon, cara mia. Cum for me.” 

Theo watched as your orgasm rocked you from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He lapped you up like a man starved, not wasting a single drop. You tried to fight the overstimulation by squirming away from his mouth, but Theo merely held your hips down. 

“I’m not done,” Theo warned with a growl. “Stay still, principessa. You wanted me to eat your pussy? Then be brave enough to fucking take it.” 

When he brought you to your second orgasm, you were gasping for air. You roughly tugged at Theo’s hair, eliciting a filthy moan from him. Despite this, Theo was still decidedly not done. As the third orgasm approached, you screamed before squirting and soaking right through the sheets. 

With wide eyes, Theo stared up at you. “Have you ever done that before?”

You flushed, embarrassment heating your cheeks as you shook your head. “No — I — I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Your best friend smiled, brushing your hair back gently as though he hadn’t just made you see Merlin. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Was it okay? I mean, was that too much? Oh god, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Theo said in a stern voice as he tipped your chin up. “Don’t ever apologize. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I like knowing that I’m the only man that’s ever made you squirt.”

“You’re not mad?” You sniffled, lower lip trembling. “I ruined your sheets.”

“Fuck the sheets." He caressed your cheek, gazing deeply into your eyes. "It's still me. Your Teddy. There's nothing that you could do that would make me mad. You're perfect, Y/N."

Theo kissed you softly, his lips pressed firmly against yours to emphasize the words. He was your Teddy. He always would be.

"You're really good at that, by the way."

Your best friend smirked, the cocky grin tugging at his lips. "Oh yeah? I couldn't tell by the way you kept screaming my name."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to compliment you if you're going to be so cocky about it."

He cocked a brow before kissing the sweet spot beneath your ear. "What are you going to do about it, principessa?"

"No fair. You play dirty, Theo."

Your best friend smiled, taking in your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips. In one swift move, Theo pinned you underneath him. "I'll show you just how dirty I can get, bella."

He wrapped a hand around your throat possessively and pulled you in for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, dizzy with desire. Theo slid his tongue against yours and claimed you with a groan. 

"This — this is what it should feel like. This is what Cedric failed to do. That stupid prick should’ve worshipped the ground you walked on, but he didn’t. He missed his chance. It’s my turn now.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, Theo squeezed your ass as he grinded his erection against your core. Even through his sweatpants, you could feel how big he was. You bucked your hips in response, rubbing against him for more friction. 

“Oh fuck, don’t do that,” Theo panted breathlessly. “I won’t be able to stop.” 

“Who said I wanted you to stop, Theo?” 

Theo cursed up a storm, a mixture of Italian and English that sounded equally hot. “I want you so fucking bad. You’re all I ever want, Y/N.” 

You smiled up at him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “Then have me, Teddy.” 

It was like a flip switched inside of him. Theo crashed his lips against yours, frantically tugging your skirt off as you pushed his sweatpants down. They were barely halfway off before he was lining up at your entrance. 

Theo pressed his forehead against yours. “Deep breaths, baby.” 

Though you were sufficiently warmed up, you knew it was still going to be a stretch. His tip was barely in and you were already gasping for breath.

“Theo, fuck. Oh my god.” You clawed at his back as he inched inside. “You’re so big. I can’t — “ 

“You can, principessa. I know you can. We’ll make it fit, yeah?” Theo stroked your cheek, giving you time to adjust. “So fucking tight. I can feel you stretching to take all of me. Just a little more,” he slid in further, watching your expression intently to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. “That’s it. Good girl.” 

When Theo finally filled you to the hilt, he pressed down on your stomach, marveling at the tight fit. You whimpered in response, clenching around his cock and making him groan. 

“Can I move, principessa?” 

Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away and nodded bravely. “Yes.” 

To his credit, Theo went sweet and slow as you adjusted to his size. He seemed attuned to what you liked and what you didn’t like even without having to utter a word. You weren’t surprised. Theo had always known you better than you knew yourself.

It took some time, but eventually the pain subsided to give way to pleasure. You kissed Theo as he thrusted into you, feeling every delicious inch of him sliding in and out of your pussy. He was going slow for your benefit, but your impatience craved more. It turns out that when it came to Theo, you were an all or nothing kind of woman. 

“Theo, please,” you pleaded through tears. “Please, I need more. I need all of you.” 

A feral expression crossed Theo’s handsome features before he hiked your ankles over his shoulders and drove in harder. His thrusts were deep and punishing, setting your teeth on edge as he fucked you into the mattress. Theo pinned your arms above your head, watching himself slam into you again and again. 

“I love watching your pretty cunt take all of me,” he murmured, intertwining your fingers together. “You’re a fucking goddess, baby. Dea mia, I’ll worship at your altar.”

“It’s never — I’ve never felt like this with anyone else,” you admitted.

Theo softened, his tender gaze drinking you in. “It’s never felt like this with anyone else for me either, bella.” 

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, the intimacy of the act surpassing lust and physical attraction. A spark awakened within you, like finally accepting an inevitable truth. 

The thread snapped and you allowed it to wash over you like a wave, the orgasm even more intensified than the first three. Theo followed soon after, panting into your neck as he emptied himself inside of you. He whispered your name, collapsing beside you when he finished. 

The two of you lay side by side, stunned into silence. You felt breathless and boneless, not quite believing that you just had the most mind blowing sex with your best friend. 

Theo glanced over at you. You glanced back at him. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, breaking the tension. 

“Well, fuck.” 

He rolled over on his side, tracing your lips with his thumb. “Is that good or bad, tesoro?”

“Good. Definitely good.”

Theo smiled and kissed you softly. 

“I meant what I said,“ you breathed as he pulled you to his side. “I’ve never felt like that with anyone else.” 

“I know, bella.” Theo hummed in agreement, snaking an arm possessively around your waist. “You were made for me. Just like I was made for you.” 

“You knew it would feel like that?” 

He grinned. “I had an inkling.” 

“What did I tell you about teasing me?” 

“I’m not,” he said earnestly. “I knew it would be you since the moment we met.” 

The realization from earlier reared its head as you snuggled against him. “We’ve never been just friends, have we?” 

Theo shook his head. “Not for a single second, dea mia.”

[natalievoncatte]

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

[hearts4hughes]

concentrate - rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut ; mdni ; oral (m receiving) ; p in v ; degradation

a/n: based off of this request from so long ago. sorry it took me so long to write, but i hope you enjoy!

“and you do exactly what i fucking told you not to!” rage would be an understatement for what he felt right now. his brows were knitted together in an angry frenzy. his muscles tensed with each word he spoke—yelled. “i didn’t know where the fuck you were. i was going insane!”

after a particularly annoying argument between you and rafe, you decided to slip out of the house and attend some kook party that he told you not to go to. you knew he was mad when he blew up your phone like crazy, and what better way to add fuel to the fire than to ignore him? he’d have to give you some attention now. it took him less than fifteen minutes before he had pinned your exact location. he stormed through the mansion to find you, and when he did, his hand clasped around your wrist, tugging you back home.

and now, even as you were being berated for your behavior, you couldn’t help but focus on the way his tense biceps clung to his tight polo, or how his piercing eyes bore into yours. a familiar warmth settled between your thighs as he shamed you.

“are you even listening?” he spat, stalking closer to you. he scoffs when you blink cluelessly at him. “un-fucking-believable.”

“you have no idea how close i was to losing my mind.” he growls, his voice low and dangerous now, no longer shouting but somehow even more intimidating. “you think it’s cute, huh? to just disappear, ignore me, and end up at some party with people i can’t fucking stand?”

you swallow hard, trying to focus on his words, but it is near impossible. his raw frustration, the sharp edge in his tone, the way his jaw clenched with every word—it had you spiraling. your heart pounded in your chest, not with fear, but with something darker, something hotter.

he stepped closer and you instinctively backed up until you felt the cool press of the wall against your back. he towered over you now, one hand braced on the wall near your head while the other ran down his face in exasperation.

“i can’t believe you’re just standing there, silent.” he hisses, leaning in, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “after all of that, after the stunt you just pulled, you’re not even going to try to defend yourself?”

you opened your mouth to say something—anything —but the words got caught in your throat. all you could do was stare at him, your pulse quickening as you took in the sharp lines of his face.

“unreal,” he mutters, shaking his head. “you know what your problem is? you love pushing me. testing me. seeing how far you can go before i snap.”

he wasn’t wrong, and you hated how much you liked hearing it. your silence seemed to push him further to the brink and before you could stop yourself, you shifted slightly, your thighs pressing together.

his piercing blue eyes flicked down, catching the movement, and something shifted in his gaze. it was still angry, but now it held a darker, lustful glint. he steps closer, so close now that his body nearly pinned you against the wall.

“oh, i see.” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “you’re not even sorry, are you?”

you shook your head quickly, and he laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. your breath hitched as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his grip keeping you locked in place. he was so close now, the scent of his cologne mixing with the intoxicating aroma of him.

“i should be fucking furious with you.” he said, his voice low and rough, almost a growl. “and yet here you are, looking at me like that.”

“like what?” you finally whispered.

his lips curled into a smirk, though his eyes were still blazing. “like you want me to do something about it.”

an unmistakeable hardness pressed into your thigh as his body was flush on yours.

“rafe-”

“shut up, brat.” he bit back, his gaze falling to your cleavage. he groaned at the sight of the tops of your swelled breasts. “you like when i’m mean? yeah? well, i’ll be mean alright.”

his hand dropped from your chin and trailed down your waist, fingers gripping the skimpy, sequence-piece fabric you considered a dress. he tilted his head, eyes dark and unforgiving as they roamed over you, taking in every single curve.

your breath hitched as his lips brushed your ear, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. “you think i don’t notice the way you react when i’m mad? the way you can’t stop staring at me, clenching your thighs together like you’re just begging me to do something about it.”

his proximity was intoxicating. his words were more of a high than any drug in the world. "rafe..." you tried again, but he was already shaking his head, his nose brushing yours as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze.

"don’t.” he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "you don't get to say anything right now. not after the shit you just pulled."

you nodded silently, your hands clutching at the front of his polo as if to ground yourself. his eyes flicked down to where your fingers gripped the fabric, then back up to yours, and his smirk widened.

"good girl," he muttered, his voice softer now but still laced with that edge that made your knees weak. "now, let's see if you can keep being good for me. get on your knees, now.”

without a second thought, you drop to your knees, staring up at the boy knowingly. he grunts, hands falling to undo his belt and jeans. they drop to the floor with a thump and he’s left clad in his boxers. the thick outline of his beefy length elicits drool in your mouth.

he curled his fingers underneath the band of his boxers and pulled them down. he pulled it out of the boxers so it shot up and laid very erect against his tight top. he bit his cheek to hide the moan at the feeling of relief.

you looked at his swollen cock that was already leaking of precum at the tip, the prominent veins showing him just how badly he needed your touch. his tip was dark and swollen, blood rushing to it and only intensifying the ache.

you stare up at him through your eyelashes and he scoffs. “still acting shy? like you aren’t practically begging for me to fuck your throat?” he tsked, slapping your cheek with his dick.

without warning, he thrust into your mouth, filling your throat with his cock. you gag, not prepared for his entire length to be shoved down your throat. he gasps, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as your warm mouth embraces him. your eyes watered and your hands gripped his muscular thighs.

roughly, he began moving in and out of your mouth. you peered up at him through glossy eyes. his head was thrown back as he moaned, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. your drool was dripping from your chin down your throat as you sloppily sucked his dick.

“that’s it, take it.” he muttered, pulling out momentarily, but bucking back into your mouth with even more force. you whined around him, sending vibrations through his body. that’s when your hands flew to grab onto his balls, gripping and massaging them. with the final movement in your mouth, he shot his load down your throat. you gagged at the salty substance. he removed himself from your mouth, a string of saliva and cum connecting you. “swallow.”

you did as told, swallowing his juices. now, it was impossible to ignore the ache between your thighs. your wetness pooled in your underwear and lower thighs. you could’ve come undone right there and then with rafe inside your mouth.

you yelped when he yanked you up by the wrist, pressing your chest into the wall. he gripped your hair, pulling it back so your neck was exposed. he nipped and sucked harshly on your jugular, leaving dark bruises with his sweet lips. the sight of your glossy lips and tear stained cheeks made him hard again.

he hiked up your dress, exposing your lacy panties. “and who were you wearing these for, little slut?” his fingers slid over the thin material, eliciting a tsk from him when he felt the wet patch.

“you, rafey. only you.” you were a whimpering, whiney mess. your hands clung to the wall in front of you. your hair stuck to your sweat-stained neck and forehead, only adding to the overstimulation.

with a rip, your panties were in two, cold hair hitting your warm cunt. “those were my favorite pair.” you whined, jutting out your swollen bottom lip.

“i’ll buy you a thousand more,” he said, his digits running through your soaked folds. he smeared your arousal all over your core, causing you to gasp. “so wet, just like i thought.” you wiggled your ass back towards his bare length, but his hands gripped your hips before you could make contact. “not so fast. you want this? beg for it.”

your eyes widened and you tried to close your legs, ashamed of the sudden rush of heat. his knee wedged between your legs, prying them open.

“p-please, rafey. i want you so bad.” you plead, trying to rub yourself on his bare knee. his hand came down hard on your ass, leaving behind a handprint mark and a stinging sensation. you yelped at the sudden action.

“not good enough.”

you huff, putting on your purest, most innocent voice you could muster up before saying, “god, i need you so bad, rafe. i need you to fill me up. need you inside. you’re the only person i want.” you rambled on like a bitch in heat, trying your best to not get embarrassed at your own words.

he smirked, his hand rubbing over the irritated skin from where he last hit. “knew you could do it, baby.” he pressed kisses to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

before you could even breathe, he was bottoming out inside of you. he didn’t give you a chance to adjust before pistoning back and forth in you. you screamed in pure ecstasy as he stretched you out.

with each movement, his tip grazed your cervix. the sounds of skin slapping together and moans bouncing off the walls. with each thrust, you were whimpering like a baby.

“god, you’re such a fucking baby,” he smirks, pushing his fingers down your throat. you gag on them, the salty taste of your arousal on your tongue. “take it! it’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

he growled, picking up his speed and pounding your cunt at an ungodly pace. your fingers clawed at the walls, a desperate attempt to ground yourself. the sound of your selfish pussy sucking him in was a symphony to rafe. his eyes fell to where you connected— his fat length stuffed inside of you. he let out a guttural moan, his fingers removing from your mouth and rubbing circles around your puffy clit.

“answer me.” he grunts. “isn’t this what you wanted? to be fucked like a slut? to be filled up by me?”

“yes!” it was surprising you could even utter the words. “you’re making me feel so good, rafey.”

“yeah? i’m making you feel good?” he mocks with a chuckle. “damn right i am.”

the pleasure was overwhelming and soon, the knot in your stomach began to crack. your walls fluttered and clenched around rafe. it wasn’t long before the knot in your stomach shattered and you were spilling down your thighs.

you lay there limp against the wall as you regained your senses. he continued to fuck you like a doll as he chased his high. your worn-out pussy tightened around him like a vice, eliciting his orgasm to rip through him.

“gonna come so deep in you,” he muttered as he was laser-focused on his movements. his muscles flexed and tightened with each ram of his hips and finally, his warm load was filling you. you moan at the sensation of him painting your walls. breathlessly, you both come down from your highs. rafe is still nuzzled inside of you when he nips at your earlobe and whispers in your ear,

“do not ever ignore me like that again.”

[fireya-x]

family dinner

AO3 Link (for the full tag list) || masterlist

John Price x Reader

John asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night, to save himself from annoying questions from his family. Turns out, you're actually who he really wants.

[9k+ words]

cw: smut, piv sex, cowgirl, handjobs, come eating

Embossed golden script on cream white card paper - it was an invitation to his grandmothers' birthday party, alright. A subtle attempt at elegance from a woman who thought tea and a tin of biscuits solved most problems. John sighed.

He already knew the drill; his mother, every aunt and uncle, cousins and second cousins twice removed would be there, armed to the teeth with baby pictures and probing questions to make him wish he’d stayed in another country in some godforsaken warzone.

The phone ringing cut through John’s meager dinner of takeout curry, one of his favorites, when he was back in his flat for a short time leave. He picked it up and answered before checking, as he usually did, expecting it to be Laswell – but that voice wasn't Kate.

“Jonathan, my dear boy, did you receive the invitation?” His grandmother’s voice was a robust cackle for her age, a force of nature that kept her so fit at ninety.

“Just held it in my hands seconds ago, Nan.” 

“Ninety years young, can you believe it?”

“Never a dull moment,” he answered, picking at the takeaway container lid.

She laughed lightly, then cleared her throat. “Listen, dear. The caterer is extra fussy. Your opinion is special to me, you know that. It’s not like I get to plan this every day”

Here it comes.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m asking you what you want, John. I have everything else planned.” Of course she did. 

“It’s your birthday, Nan. I’ll eat anything,” he sighed. “Toffee pudding can’t be missing from any birthday, though.”

“Of course, that’s a must! Especially with you visiting! You’ve always loved it as a little boy. Now tell me, is your girl more a partial to fish or chicken?”

The fork clattered onto the styrofoam. John almost choked.

“You’ll be bringing someone, aren’t you?”

He should have said no. He should have clarified, for the thousandth time, that his occupation left no room for romantic walks on the beach and candlelit dinners. Maintaining relationships wasn’t something John did, especially when his job included more explosions than birthday candles on her birthday cake. And apparently, eliminating terrorists and global threats was not a suitable substitute for great-grandchildren.

But there was something in her voice. Hope? Excitement to finally see her grandson with a woman at his side? It was her 90th birthday, after all. Who knew how long John would have her still? Seeing him happy was the greatest gift he could give her, and he knew that.

John sighed. “Yes, I will bring someone.”

That she didn't squeal was unexpected, but he knew his mother was right there with her, listening to everything.

Fuck.

What was he supposed to do? Try Tinder, maybe? How hard could it be to find a woman who’d go on a date with him? But John hated every single aspect of using his phone for anything other than texting and calling — and he gave up when the app asked him too many questions about himself.

That’s when he heard footsteps outside his apartment. He remembered that beautiful, chatty neighbor of his. You'd watched his flat and watered his plants a few times when he was deployed. You’d only met briefly, but given John’s sparsely decorated way of living, he wasn’t worried you would steal anything. But his grandmother's plants were something holy to him, and you kept them alive, and that made you a trustworthy person in his book.

And he would be lying if he didn't admit he'd stolen a glance at you here and there, always hidden in a hoodie or a way-too-big raincoat that obscured your figure, and something about it intrigued him.

Before his brain could even process what his feet were doing, he stumbled to the front door and opened it, revealing you, arms full of groceries, struggling to get the key into the door.

“Need help with that?” A low, grumbling voice startled you, and you almost dropped the bag full of fruits and veggies.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

John chuckled, then took the bag from you as if it was something he'd casually do all the time. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, putting the key in the lock. You took the bag from him and wanted to escape this awkward situation with your way-too-good-looking neighbor as fast as possible. But before you could close the door, he intervened.

“Hey, uh, I have a question.” John’s hand ran through his hair, a nervous gesture that betrayed his usual confidence.

“Yes?”

“I – I kinda promised my grandma that I’d bring a girlfriend to her 90th birthday party, and, well –”

“You don’t have one?” The question came out sounding more shocked than you intended. You were certain he had women lining up for him.

“Yeah, I mean, no, I don’t.” His gaze dropped to the floor for a fleeting moment, as if suddenly embarrassed by the admission. You tilted your head, looking at him expectantly.

“So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? What’s in it for me?”

“Free fancy food?” He smiled crookedly, and you were done for. How could you say no to that smile? The same smile that had been haunting your thoughts ever since he’d given you his keys to his apartment? Your heart was pounding.

“It’s a date,” you said, the words slipping out before you could overthink it. The relief that flooded his eyes made something inside you flutter.

“Thank you, I owe you one. Six p.m. on Friday, alright?”

“What should I wear?”

John wasn’t prepared for that question. And he didn’t mean to check you out – but he did. His eyes wandered from your boots, over your hips, up to your breasts – where his gaze lingered a second too long— and then to your face.

“It’s a garden dinner. I’m sure you’ll look nice in anything,” he said, the words feeling ridiculously inadequate the moment they left his lips.

“Very helpful, thanks.” He braced himself for a sarcastic retort, but you chuckled, shaking your head. “I’ll figure it out. Have a nice evening.”

You retreated to your apartment, leaning back against the closed door, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your heart was still pounding. Did John, your neighbor, ask you out? The same John who seemed so unapproachable, wrapped in that aura of intensity he always wore, who disappeared for weeks on end to go on “business trips” and returned with a deep shadow under those blue eyes? 

What did he even do when he disappeared? You'd never asked. Even when he'd given you his keys so you could look after his flat while he was gone, there was nothing that gave away what exactly he did or where he went.

The small conversations you’d shared had always been just that— small nothings, polite exchanges with your friendly neighbor. Still, those infrequent encounters always sent your stomach into a nervous frenzy. 

You rummaged through your closet, trying to find something that screamed “I'm a cool, collected woman who casually dates mysteriously handsome men ” without looking like you’d overdone it. A garden party could literally mean anything, especially since you knew nothing about his family. Were you supposed to pick a nice, flowing dress or stick with casual jeans and a shirt? You had no idea.

You stopped your mind from spiralling further. It wasn’t a real date. It was a fake date . 

What were you thinking, agreeing to this? You were doubting your own sanity — but then you remembered the crinkled corners of his eyes when he smiled, the warmth that radiated from him when he’d helped you with your groceries – saying “no” to him wasn’t even an option. There was something about him that drew you in, a gravitational pull you couldn’t resist, even if it meant playing pretend.

The sundress you wore – he couldn’t even pinpoint the colour, something soft and warm, summery, like the sky just before dusk – hugged your curves in all the right ways, the delicate straps showcasing the elegant line of your neck and collarbone. His gaze traced the gentle swell of your breasts beneath the thin fabric, the way the skirt flowed over your hips, his mind already picturing how it would look bunched up around your waist when –

Fuck.

A wave of heat - he knew it so well, yet hadn’t felt it in what seemed like forever - crashed over him, settled deep in his gut, tightening his muscles, making his cock twitch.

He shifted uncomfortably, desperately hoping you hadn’t noticed the way his pants suddenly felt about two sizes too small.

He’d usually never been one for flowery dresses and delicate gold jewellery like the earrings that decorated your ears. They clashed with the brutal reality of his world. But on you, it was devastating. You were an innocent, oblivious creature walking straight into his hardened, cynical world without even knowing it. And somehow, against all logic and years of self-preservation, he wanted to corrupt every part of you.

His gaze snapped to the flesh of your delicate thighs that left little to his imagination, those toned legs wrapped around his waist while he pulled you closer and –

Jesus fucking Christ, get a grip.

He forced himself to look away, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he’d pull a muscle.

This was his neighbour. You , who’d watered his plants, borrowed his toolbox, offered a smile whenever you met in the hallway. The one who’d agreed to this incredibly stupid idea. You were doing him a favour, for God’s sake.

“Ready?” He shoved the word out harsher than he’d intended, the sound completely alien to even his own ears. But before you could answer, he shut his door and ushered you towards the exit. He needed air. He’d preferred an ice bath, preferably yesterday.

You didn’t mind adapting to roles and play pretend at all, but as soon as you arrived at the estate, your confidence got humbled. The house was huge, and the driveway alone was already filled with floral arrangements and all sorts of birthday wishes – an enormous ninety made out of entirely blush pink roses and lavender decorated the front yard.

The garden party was in full swing already when you two arrived. The air buzzed with the sound of laughter and chatter, clinking glasses and the distant beat of a live band. John seemed oddly out of place in between the flowers and the brightly dressed guests, like a lone wolf who had been dragged to a tea party.

But as soon as you stepped further into the event, the warm air surrounding you, the scent of freshly cut grass and citrus, the smiling faces all around you, your anxiety about the whole thing lessened. 

“Don’t worry too much," John's arm brushed against yours as you navigated through the clusters of guests. He reached out to grab two drinks from a passing waiter’s tray. “The worst they could do is show you my childhood photos.”

He offered you a drink, and you took it from him, smiling. “Somehow, that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.” You earned yourself a deep chuckle that rumbled through his chest and did decidedly inappropriate things to your equilibrium.

When John took your free hand into his like it was the most normal thing in the world, you felt like this was going to be the easiest task. For a fleeting moment, it was easy to forget you were living a lie.

Until dinner.

The seating arrangements were strategically orchestrated, it seemed, to maximize family bonding - or torture, you hadn’t decided which. You found yourself sitting between John, radiating a mix of polite restraint and his usual natural intensity that set your pulse racing, and a woman with the same kind eyes as him.

“This is my mother, Eleanor,” John had introduced her earlier, her smile so warm and welcoming you’d almost forgotten you were supposed to be playing a role. She seemed almost too impressed when you'd introduced yourself, as if she couldn't quite believe he was telling the truth about having a girlfriend. 

You'd prove them wrong, not for their sake, but for your own growing satisfaction at seeing John surprised.

You were no stranger to the barrage of questions about your single status and lack of a partner from your own family, so you knew how tiresome it could get. You braced yourself for a similar interrogation.

Across the table, John's grandma beamed at you with a delight that melted your heart. You understood then what this was all about for him — fulfilling his grandmother's wish to see him happy, settled.

On impulse, you reached out to grab John’s hand beside yours, your fingers threading through his, offering him a reassuring smile, pretending to bring out your best I-am-so-in-love look you could muster. 

He seemed taken aback, his entire body stiffening for a split second as if your touch were an electric shock. But then he recovered quickly, his fingers tightening around yours with a gentle pressure that sent goosebumps dancing up your arm. He raised your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles that lingered a heartbeat too long.

Your breath caught in your throat, your gaze fixated on the curve of his lips, the way his beard scraped against your skin. Your stomach did a somersault, your senses flooded with a rush of longing that was as unexpected as it was undeniably thrilling.

“So,” John's aunt leaned across the table, her voice a bit too loud, as if intended to break the spell you’d fallen under. “What do you do?”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented, your gaze reluctantly leaving John’s hand and focusing on the plate of food a server had just placed before you. Shepherd's pie. But not just any shepherd’s pie. This looked like a culinary masterpiece compared to the frozen meals you were used to eating all the time.

“I work in healthcare,” you answered, your mouth already watering at the sight of the culinary heaven before you. “I’m an ER nurse.”

“Oh, wow,” his grandma chirped from across the table, her eyes twinkling with genuine interest. Her comment, however, was quickly drowned out by his aunt's next, slightly more probing, question.

“I'm amazed you two met with such busy schedules. To be fair,” she added with a sly smile directed at John, “I'm shocked Jonathan managed to find someone at all with his occupation .”

Your fork, laden with a generous portion of creamy mashed potatoes and perfectly seasoned mince, froze halfway to your mouth. Your earlier questions about the nature of John’s job came rushing back. What exactly did he do? You knew he was often away for extended periods, you even kept his plants from dying a slow death from time to time, but his reasons had always been vague. “Business trips,” he’d called them, with a shrug and that infuriatingly handsome smile.

“Right,” you managed, forcing a light laugh as you carefully set your fork back down, your appetite momentarily forgotten. “We make it work. We talk a lot on the phone."

“You do?” His mother, ever the perceptive one, turned to John, her brows raised in what you could only describe as disbelief. “How come you always tell us you can’t contact us?”

John cleared his throat and his hand reached for his beer, his fingers wrapping around the cold glass. “Kate makes some exceptions,” he explained, his gaze fixed on the drink.

Kate? Your mind scrambled for context, your internal ��John’s-Life” file coming up short. “Kate” let him make exceptions? Who was Kate, and more importantly, what kind of job required someone to ask permission to make personal phone calls? And why did you feel jealous - you had absolutely no business to feel this way. 

“Who’s Kate?” You asked, reaching for your champagne flute, unable to hide the accusatory edge creeping into your voice.

“My boss . Sort of.” The golden liquid got caught halfway in your throat. First name basis with his boss? His family knew his boss? So many questions came up, and you were slowly starting to panic. You were supposed to be a believable girlfriend, but you were scared the mask was slipping away by the second. 

“Oh, right, Kate. Sorry, darling. You know how my weeks have been lately. It's a wonder I can remember my own name half the time.”

“She must be happy for you, too,” his mother commented, delicately spearing a piece of fish with a precision that made you suspect years of etiquette training lay beneath her impeccably polite facade. “Finding someone special, I mean. Might even spare her some of your, shall we say, moods .” She glanced at John, her eyebrows arched as if she was sharing a private joke with the entire table, except you.

Moods? You’d always found John to be quiet, reserved, perhaps a tad intimidating at times, but never moody. 

You glanced at John, who was pointedly studying his plate, the faintest hint of a flush creeping up his neck. You wouldn't have thought the man capable of embarrassment. It made him seem unexpectedly human, and somehow even more attractive.

You were about to ask for clarification when Nan seized the conversational reins. “So, darlings,” she asked, her gaze moving back and forth between you and John, her smile widening expectantly, “How long have you two known each other?”

“I think six months?” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips.

At the exact same moment, John declared, “Almost a year now,” his voice deep and steady, completely contradicting your rushed estimation.

You froze. The silence that descended upon the table was deafening. 

“Has it already been that long?” you exclaimed quickly, forcing a bright smile and injecting as much wonder and mock surprise into your voice as you could muster. You prayed that your sudden rush of amnesia would be enough to distract them from the giant, elephant-sized hole you’d just blown in your story. You reached over to slightly squeeze his hand. “I suppose time flies when you’re in love.”

You snuck a peek at John, expecting to see panic, maybe even annoyance, but what you found in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He was watching you intensely. And that smile playing at the corner of his lips? It made something dangerous and delicious twist low in your belly.

“I believe that,” John’s grandma chimed in, her voice warm with the wisdom of nine decades lived. “You two are very lovely together.”

Eleanor nodded in agreement. “She’s good for you, Jonathan. Maybe having someone special to come home to will make those long missions away a little easier.”

"Speaking of which, how’s that new posting treating you, lad? Heard it’s a bit of a hot zone, eh?” John's uncle boomed across the table.

“It has its challenges,” John replied, taking a long sip of his beer as if to fortify himself for the inevitable round of inquiries. “But it’s good to be back in the field.”

You frowned. Field? Posting? What kind of job involved working in a “field”? And what exactly made it a “hot zone?” You felt more and more confused by the conversation, it was as if they spoke an entirely different language, a language riddled with code words and shared experiences you weren’t privy to.

“That I believe,” his uncle answered, also reaching for his beer as if to toast to a shared understanding. “Bet your rank will get you far, though.”

You felt John tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours, not letting go. His family's casual acceptance of his frequent — and apparently lengthy — disappearances made you increasingly curious. You knew by now he often travelled for work, but something about the way they spoke, the underlying thread of concern laced with pride, hinted at a world you were only just starting to glimpse.

“I imagine those long stretches apart must be difficult, darling,” John's aunt commented, her gaze fixed on you with a sympathy that only deepened your bewilderment. “But I’m sure you’re used to it by now, working in a hospital and all. Those long shifts must be a challenge, too.”

You smiled, still confused about what was going on—but you also saw an opportunity. It was time to take control of the narrative, to steer this conversation into a territory you could navigate — even if it meant bending the truth further than it had already been twisted.

“Speaking of long stretches,” you interjected, shooting John a look that was equal parts challenge and playful invitation. You’d gone from wanting to bolt to wanting to play this game, see how far you could push him, how convincingly you could both lie. “Remember that road trip we took last fall? The one where we got hopelessly lost in the Scottish Highlands and ended up sleeping in the car?”

As you spoke, you noticed that everyone else at the table had dived into their food, the initial round of introductions and polite inquiries fading into a comfortable murmur of conversation. Nan beamed at you both, her fork hovering over a generous slice of shepherd’s pie, her eyes twinkling with the quiet pleasure of seeing her grandson – even a pretend version of him – happy.

Beside you, John stiffened, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and what you could only interpret as wary amusement. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, like velvet draped over steel. “Scotland. Beautiful, isn’t it, love?”

“Beautiful?” you countered, tilting your head and letting out a soft laugh that you were fairly certain sounded far more genuine than it should have. You couldn’t help but admire his quick thinking, the way he effortlessly picked up on your cue and played along. “Those winding Highland roads. They were more treacherous than romantic, if I’m being honest. I was certain you were going to drive us straight off a cliff at least a dozen times.”

His smile widened, revealing a flash of teeth that made something deep inside you melt a little. “I assure you, love, my driving is impeccable. You were simply distracted.” His gaze lingered on your face for a beat too long.

A delicious warmth flooded your cheeks. “Distracted? I seem to recall you being the one with wandering eyes," you countered, your voice dropping to a low murmur as you met his gaze head-on. You weren’t sure if the heightened awareness you felt buzzing between you was a product of the lies you were weaving or something more.

“That’s because you are quite the sight to behold, love,” he said, his voice husky, the words brushing against your senses like a caress.

You stared at him, your mind scrambling to process his words, their unexpected sincerity throwing you off balance. Had he just complemented you?

“You are—” He paused, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering on your chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. You held your breath, waiting, as the air thrummed with a sudden, unexpected intimacy.

“Breathtaking.”

What was he doing? you thought, your heart pounding. Was he still playing the part, or was there something more simmering beneath the surface? And why did the possibility excite you?

The air thickened, the sound of his family’s conversation fading into the background as the world seemed to shrink, the space between you charged with an energy that was impossible to ignore. You weren't sure if you wanted to laugh or lean across the table and kiss him senseless.

Just as you felt yourself leaning into that dangerous impulse, Eleanor cleared her throat delicately.

You both startled, like students caught whispering in the back of the classroom. John's cheeks, you noticed with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, were flushed a faint shade of pink. Even a man like John wasn't immune to a mother's watchful gaze.

“Those rolls are delicious, dear,” Eleanor commented, and turned to you, her tone light but her eyes sharp with amusement. “Why don't you have one?” 

You reached for a roll, suddenly starving, the earlier tension dissolving into a relieved chuckle as you caught John's eyes. He winked at you, a playful glint in his blue eyes. You winked back, feeling a warmth spread through you caused by the man sitting beside you, a man who, despite your best efforts to resist, was quickly becoming more than just a convenient prop in this game of play pretend.

You'd managed to escape the clutches of the dinner table without completely blowing your cover, even when, at some points, you weren’t so sure how nobody saw right through you. But then came the real challenge — mingling. The party had moved inside the house, and you were separated from John. 

You silently cursed yourself for agreeing to this whole fabricated scenario. What if you told completely different stories to his relatives? What if someone asked you about his work, for God’s sake?

Glasses of port in hand, John’s extended family seemed very determined to catch up on months’ worth of news in one evening. You did your best to smile politely at every occasion, your inner monologue continuously reminding you to simply not say anything stupid.

Suddenly, a very chipper and well-dressed woman intruded on your personal space, waving her phone in front of your face. “You must be John’s girl!” she exclaimed, and before you could even answer, she swiped through numerous photos. “Look at her – isn't she adorable!”

You leaned in, attempting to make eye contact with the child in the photos while subtly taking a step back, her perfume a bit overwhelming. “Absolutely adorable,” you agreed, putting on a wide grin, and the woman beamed. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what children you and John will bring into this world. Aren’t they the greatest thing?”

Children? Your smile faltered. You opened your mouth to respond, to stammer out some vague response about “one step at a time”, but before you could even get a word out, the woman had moved on, already excitedly showing off her offspring to the next unsuspecting relative. 

Note to self: Avoid eye contact with anyone holding a baby photo, you thought, your internal panic rising. This whole “fake girlfriend” thing was rapidly becoming a high-stakes obstacle course, and you weren’t sure you were agile enough to navigate it without falling flat on your face.

You were trying to reach John, a plate of sticky toffee pudding on your plate, wanting to show off that you were going to try his favorite dessert – when a booming voice cut through the chatter, catching your attention. “There he is!” A tall, older man with curly hair approached John and shook his hand with a force that could crush granite. “That last mission you pulled off? Absolute textbook. A captain leading his own task force? The old man would be bloody proud.”

John’s posture stiffened ever so slightly. “Cheers, uncle,” he responded, raising his glass, his gaze darting towards you for the briefest of moments.

Mission? Captain? Task force?

The people around you, completely oblivious to your internal meltdown, continued chatting, casually dropping words like “deployment,” “classified,” “weapons,” and all other sorts of military jargon as if they were discussing the weather.

Suddenly, everything fell into place.

All those late-night departures, when you heard heavy footsteps echo through your shared hallway; the vague explanations about “work trips” when you met him outside your apartment; those calls he received at odd hours, his voice tight, his tone clipped, echoing through your shared walls; those calls that always seemed to coincide with a breaking news report or some global crisis. John, your sweet, infuriatingly attractive, seemingly normal neighbor – was leading a deadly task force.

Not that it was any of your business what he did. He owed you nothing.

Then why did this feel like such a blow? That he didn’t tell you beforehand, throwing you into the midst of his family who were clearly all about that life, and leaving you in the dark, making a complete idiot of yourself?

You had been looking forward to trying the famous dessert all evening, but suddenly, your appetite completely vanished. The plate that you held suddenly felt as appealing as cold porridge.

“Everything alright, love?” John approached, noticing the shift in your mood.

You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing. “Peachy,” you replied. “Just, fascinating, hearing everyone’s stories.” You stabbed the pudding with your spoon, not sure where the feelings of anger came from.

You shoved the plate into his chest, forcing him to take it from you. “I just need some air.” You turned and made your way towards his Nan’s beautiful rose garden.

He’d lied to you.

Well, maybe not lied, exactly. Maybe it was the sudden awareness of the danger that shadowed his every move, who he really was, who he was compared to you.

You had every right to feel foolish, to even agree to such a stupid idea. But betrayal? You had no idea where it came from, it seemed like an overreach for a situation that had been, from the beginning, just a constructed lie.

Stepping out into the cool of the garden, you breathed a sigh of relief. The scent of flowers seemed to calm your racing mind a little, a welcome contrast to all the voices you just escaped. You found your way to a small bench underneath an old oak tree, sinking onto the cool wood, straightening your dress doing so.

You didn’t hear John approach, but then again, stealth was probably part of his many talents. You didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, stopping right next to you, an arm leaning on the backrest of the bench.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, frustrated by all these emotions you were feeling. “Well, the food is excellent, your grandma is adorable, and I haven’t witnessed any international incidents first-hand - yet. So that’s a win, I guess?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, a welcome contrast to the tension that had been knotting your stomach ever since you’d pieced together the things about his life. You’d grown accustomed to that sound, to the way it rumbled deep in his chest, unexpectedly gentle for a man who, apparently, spent his days navigating a world far removed from yours.

He shifted slightly, settling beside you on the bench. You felt the heat radiating off him in the cool air of the evening, an awareness that lingered even though he wasn’t touching you.

“Look,” he began, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, a gesture that was strangely endearing on a man who usually was so confident. “My life –” He gestured vaguely towards the party, the house. The unspoken explanation – “ my life is a full-blown, military-grade soap opera ” – hung in the air between you.

“You know,” you interrupted him, turning to face him. “A little heads-up about what you do would have been nice. Especially that it’s such an important thing in your family.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It wasn’t fair to throw you into that without a warning. I guess because it’s so normal to me, I just completely forgot about it.”

“I’m a nurse, I don’t really specialize in disarming bombs or whatever it is your uncles like to do for fun.”

He laughed then, a full, hearty laugh, that made your heart flutter faster in your chest.

“It’s not funny.” You said, looking away. “And I know I have absolutely no right to feel – ” you struggled to find the right word. 

“To feel –?” he prompted, leaning a little closer.

“Disappointed,” you breathed. “It’s silly, I just felt like I was left out of inside jokes during dinner. I tried so hard to not let this lie slip, but it could have been so much easier if I had known.” You took a deep breath. “So, while I was keeping your plants alive," you added, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, "You were out there doing what exactly? Neutralizing threats? Saving the world? I missed that chapter in the ‘Good Neighbor Handbook.’”

You couldn’t help the edge that crept into your voice. At first, it had just been a fun little game, a chance to play dress-up and enjoy delicious food. But now, now it felt different. You were, suddenly, uncomfortably aware of just how much you didn’t know about the man sitting beside you. 

The silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves overhead. John stared at you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“You probably think I am a complete idiot,” you continued, the words tumbling out in a rush, a jumble of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. “I'm sorry, I'm being absolutely dramatic –”

The words died on your lips as his hands shot out, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks with a touch that was both possessive and unexpectedly tender. His gaze held yours captive, those blue eyes burning with a fierce intensity that stole your breath away. And then, without a word, without warning, his mouth crashed down on yours.

His lips were hard, demanding, hungry, devouring yours as if he couldn’t get close enough, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate, unyielding dance. 

It was primal, raw, untamed. It was the kind of kiss that stripped away the pretence, obliterated the boundaries, and left you gasping for air, your mind reeling, your body aching for something you couldn’t name but craved with every fibre of your being.

Time seemed to stand still — the garden, the party, the lie — it all faded away. There was only the feel of his lips on yours, the light scrape of his beard against your skin. The taste of him was intoxicating, the heat of his body radiating off him in waves.

Eventually, he pulled back, his breath mingling with yours in the night air. His hands lingered, resting on your face, slightly tracing the lines of your jawline. His gaze was wild, eyes dark and burning into you with an intensity that made you want to melt into a puddle.

You stared back, your mind racing. This was the moment the lines blurred. There had been something there — you felt it. It was more than pretend, more than just playing a game. Desire. Interest. Even though you felt like you no longer knew this man at all, you wanted to get to know him all over again. Taste him, touch him — you blinked, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Would you prefer to leave?” John's hand, still warm from its possessive grip on your face, gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture both intimate and oddly reassuring.

You shook your head. “It’s your grandma's birthday. You can’t just leave because I feel uncomfortable.”

“I think we’ve both had enough of the party for one night,” he murmured, a quick smile flashing across his face. “I’m going to let her know you aren’t feeling too well. Alright?”

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your cheek, then, with a low rumble, he whispered in your ear, “Wait here.”

In front of both your apartment doors, the silence was an awkwardly long stretch. It felt like you were both trying to understand what had just happened, unsure where to begin.

“So, um,” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that you found strangely endearing. “Thank you for coming.”

You nodded and smiled, “Of course. It was nice to get the dust off this dress again.”

He leaned towards you slowly, and your breath hitched. For one heart-stopping moment, you thought he might kiss you again – would he? Was what happened in the garden just an impulsive decision?

But he hesitated, the moment frozen, and there was something indecisive happening between you. But you didn’t mean to push, neither did he.

He cleared his throat and finally spoke. “Good night,” he said, his words careful, as if he were holding back from saying something else.

“Good night,” you echoed, your voice barely a whisper. The small hope that you'd taste him one more time evaporated.

You turned, your hand reaching for your door, keys almost to the lock, when strong hands grabbed you, spinning you around in a dizzying motion. Before you could even register what was happening, his lips were on yours again — silencing all those unspoken doubts and hesitations.

This was real. You felt it; your heart screamed it; the way his mouth was devouring yours, displaying a hunger and desire that shouted it from the rooftops.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on for dear life, as his tongue traced the seam of your lips with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. You felt the rumble of his groan against your mouth as he backed you against your apartment door, his body moulding against yours as if he was starving for the feel of you. You were breathless, lost in the heat of his touch, the way his hands roamed your back and finally settled on the curve of your ass.

You realized then that you had always dreamed of kissing this man, silently, secretly, whenever his eyes lingered on yours for a beat too long right there in the hallway. You’d always dismissed those fantasies as wishful thinking, but clearly, he’d been wanting the same.

You heard a click as the lock on your door was turned, and you felt as his hand fumbled with the doorknob behind your back – all while his lips were still on yours, occasionally wandering to kiss your jaw and giving you an opportunity to breathe. He cursed under his breath, and before you even processed what was happening, he shouldered the door open and pushed both of you back into the darkness of your apartment.

The familiar space of your home was suddenly transformed, and John's touch was the compass guiding you. He didn't release you, keeping you close to his body as if you might slip away. With a smooth movement, he shoved the door shut, tossing your keys somewhere onto the floor.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up flush against him, the gasp that escaped your lips quickly swallowed by his next kiss. He carried you, your legs wrapped around his waist, until he reached your couch, where he gently laid you down, his body hovering over yours, his eyes devouring you, making you feel incredibly vulnerable.

The sofa dipped as he planted his knees left and right next to your legs, and he leaned to hover over you. You were both breathing hard, the only sound in the silent room. The only light illuminating you was the sliver of moonlight spilling through the window above.

“Is this still pretend?” you managed to whisper, your voice a shaky breath.

His eyes locked onto yours, the slight smirk on his face sending a thrill to your core. His hands moved to your hips, deliberately grinding them against his groin. You gasped as you felt the hardness of his arousal pressed against you, hyperaware of the thin fabric separating your most intimate parts.

“Fuck, no,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. He moved his hips again, his hands slowly but intentionally pushing up your dress.

Your skin felt like it was on fire; your head was spinning. 

One of his hands moved up to the line of your dress, and with a rumble in his throat, he pulled the fabric aside, exposing the swell of your breasts to his hungry gaze.

His pupils dilated, his eyes dark and intense, as he stared at you like a starving man presented with a banquet. You'd never been so incredibly turned on, no man had ever made you feel this way— John’s simple gesture of delicately tracing the skin around your nipples made you moan so loudly you immediately threw a hand over your mouth, slightly embarrassed.

“No, let me hear it all. You sing so beautifully, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand gently moving yours away, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and unexpected tenderness.

"John,” you breathed, your voice a shaky sigh.

“This bloody dress,” he groaned. “Wanted to rip it off you the second I saw you standing at my door.” His voice was raw, unfiltered – gone was the nice, gentle neighbor; this was the Captain coming through, the darker, more commanding side of him that should have scared you, but only served to intensify the desire swirling inside you. You wanted to know all about the man he left behind as soon as he stepped into this building.

“Every fuckin' time I saw you in the hallway, those quick hellos were never enough,” he confessed, one hand tightening on your hip, the other slowly trailing down your skin beneath the hem of your dress. His touch was agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of heat in its wake that made you lose your mind. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His words were so honest, it caught you off guard completely. It must have shown on your face right then, because he smiled in return. “Never thought I’d stand a chance," he admitted. "You always seemed out of reach.”

You frowned. “Out of reach?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Figured I’d never stand a chance against the queue of blokes lining up at your door.”

“John, what? A queue, for me?” You laughed, your disbelief genuine, gesturing towards yourself.

He sighed, sitting up, his fingers playing with the lace trim of your panties as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You’re beautiful, and tonight, I learned it’s inside and out. You're you, and that's fuckin’ wonderful."

You shook your head in disbelief. His words made your entire body tremble.  He wasn’t just looking at your body; he was seeing you. And it felt extraordinary.

He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a longing that mirrored your own. “I kept thinking about what you were hiding underneath those baggy clothes,” he confessed, his voice a husky whisper, his fingers slowly sliding your panties down your legs. He felt you shy away from him a little, a smirk on his face stole your breath, as he pushed your legs apart with his calloused hands. “Like I said, so beautiful.” He whispered, his voice so rough with what you could only describe as lust. It made you shiver.

“You know,” you whispered, “The funny thing is, I thought exactly the same.”

“What do you mean?” You watched as he slowly ran a hand along your thighs. A ragged breath escaped your lungs, and you struggled to continue speaking.

“You’re incredible – there’s no way you didn’t have someone to –”

“To what?” he asked, suddenly stopping his movements, his gaze intense. “Willing to take a chance on a bloke who doesn’t know a thing about flowers or romantic dinners? Who spends more time on planes than in his own flat? Whose idea of a good time involves dodging bullets and disarming explosives?” He let out a self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head.

He was being so completely honest with you, so vulnerable, it sent a sharp pang through your chest. He was seeing you – the real you, hidden beneath the baggy clothes and carefully constructed walls – and for the first time that night, you were truly seeing him . John, who looked like he could bench-press a small car, who radiated an aura of danger as naturally as he breathed. 

He wasn’t some playboy who brought women home every other night, like you’d assumed. He could have any woman he wanted – and yet, here he was, his gaze tracing every inch of your naked body.

He liked you. He’d thought about you.

It felt surreal.

“Best decision I’ve made in a long time,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Asking you, I mean. Thinking I could never have you, and now –”

You held your breath, anticipation coiling in your stomach. “Now what?” you whispered.

“You’re mine.” He growled, and before your brain could even process what happened, his mouth was on your clit, kissing and sucking like he finally got to taste that delicious meal he was promised. 

“Oh god–!” you moaned, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, your nails digging into his scalp. He moaned, and the vibration of it against your skin made your legs twitch uncontrollably.

John’s touch was relentless, his tongue swirling against your most sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. You arched against him, your hips bucking involuntarily, craving more of the delicious friction that was driving you to the edge of madness.

He seemed to sense your desperation, the way your body was begging for something more. He pulled back, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes dark with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified you. His hand replaced his tongue, fingers gently caressing your sensitive clit. “Look at you,” he murmured. “So fuckin’ hot.”

“John,” you breathed, you were speaking without any control over it.

“What do you need, love?” he asked, his voice thick with lust, his hand never ceasing its tormenting, exquisite torture against your aching core.

“I – I need –” You couldn't form the words. Your mind was blank, and your body was trembling with need that eclipsed all rational thought.

He seemed to understand, his gaze softening, a knowing smile curving his lips. He rose slightly, his hands moving towards the belt buckle, groaning as he released himself from the confines of his trousers.

He stepped out of his pants, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the sudden silence. His shirt followed shortly after, and you were captivated. His body was hard, sculpted muscle, his arousal straining against the fabric of his boxers, proof of the desire you'd awakened within him.

You watched, mesmerized, as he slowly peeled off his boxers, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached down, fisting himself, and your breath hitched at the sight.

“Still think you’re not attractive to me, love? Look what you’re doing to me,” he let his thumb slowly run over the head of his length, spreading the drop of pre-come that formed there, and he must have known it was teasing you, driving you mad. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded.

You opened your mouth to speak, to voice the desire that was burning through you with the force of a supernova, but the words caught in your throat. All you could manage was a whimper as your fingers were digging into the cushions, hips arching upwards, instinctively seeking out friction you craved.

You felt like if you couldn't have him, you might die.

“Uh-uh.” His hand reached forward to grab the soft flesh of your tits, one after the other, and his thumb brushed a teasing circle around your nipples, the pressure increasing just enough to make you gasp. "I said, tell me what you want.”

“You,” you confessed, the words torn from your very soul. “For God's sake, I fucking need you.”

John's gaze intensified, his eyes dark, and the corner of his mouth twitched, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. He loomed over you like a predator about to claim his prey. With a growl, he leaned down, pressing his mouth on yours, and you could feel his erection pressing between your folds.

One of his hands shot out, cupping the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you captive. 

“You’re going to get everything you need, love,” he breathed, and followed by his promise, he entered you in a deliberately slow movement, almost torturous. He moaned, so raw and primal, it made you clench around him, and your entire body ignited as he filled you completely. His size, his heat, the intensity of the sensation – it sent your senses into overdrive, causing you to dig your nails into his back.

“Ohhh fuck,” you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper, lost in a world of sensation he'd created with his touch.

He paused, holding himself perfectly still within you, savoring the feel of your body clenching around him and the soft moans escaping your lips.

You whimpered, arching your hips up instinctively, desperate for more, aching for him to erase every thought, every doubt, every worry, with the overwhelming pleasure that throbbed between you.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down your spine, and then he moved. Slowly at first, deliberately drawing out the sensation, his hips rocking against yours, each thrust a slow, agonizingly delicious torture that had you clinging to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your nails leaving trails of fire on his skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice tight with need as he buried himself deeper. “You're so fucking tight – so fucking wet.”

But even in the haze of pleasure, a primal instinct took over. He needed more. He rolled you both over, shifting his weight so that you were straddling his lap, your legs draped over his thighs, your core aligned perfectly with his arousal. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he reached for the hem of your dress, his fingers working quickly, impatiently, to free you from the loosely hanging fabric.

“Now,” his hands found your hips, guiding you closer, his thumbs stroking the sensitive flesh. “Ride me, love.”

You looked down at him, at the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes, the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath, and a surge of confidence, of pure, unadulterated lust, washed over you. You began to move, supporting your weight against him by running your hands through the light fur that dusted his chest. 

His hands dug deeper into your skin as you increased the pace, moving faster, harder, riding his cock wildly, completely lost in the pleasure.

Every movement sent jolts of pleasure through you. He watched you, his gaze never leaving your face, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as if he were hanging onto your every move.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his voice thick with approval. “Like that, love. Ride me hard.”

His words were a primal command, a challenge that sent a thrill through you, making you even bolder, even more daring. You leaned forward and kissed him, biting his lip, drawing a groan from him that resonated deep in your core.

He tasted of salt and desire, the scent of his arousal filling your senses, making you wild. His hands were guiding your movements, matching your intensity, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge of release.

With each thrust, you felt the coil of pleasure tighten inside you, building towards a crescendo that threatened to shatter you both. You moved faster, harder, your body driven by an instinct as old as time itself. His touch was a brand, marking you as his, and the possessive hunger in his eyes as you rode him, almost send you over the edge alone.

He was groaning now, his words a jumble of incoherent pleas and praises, his fingers digging into your flesh as he struggled to maintain control. You felt him tense, the muscles in his thighs and arms bunching beneath your touch, and you knew the storm was about to break.

“Don’t stop,” his voice was raw with need, his gaze burning into you as if he wanted to sear this moment into his soul. “Come for me, love. Let me feel you shatter."

And with one final, earth-shattering thrust, you did.

A shudder ripped through you, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole your breath away. Your walls clenched around him, a thousand tiny sparks of sensation exploding behind your eyelids. Your name tumbled from his lips, a breathless groan, as he held you tighter. You cried out, the sound swallowed by his eager mouth as he captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you, leaving you trembling, weak, utterly undone.

After you came down from your high, you watched him intently as he was also struggling on the edge of release. Driven by need and desire, you slowly let his cock slip out of you. He made a sound that sounded animalistic, a groan, low and deep in his chest, an expression of frustration. Your hand moved instantly, your fingers finding his length, circling him, stroking him with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. Your fingertips traced a feather-light path up the underside of his shaft, lingering at the sensitive ridge just below the head before gliding back down to the base, your thumb brushing teasingly against the swollen vein that pulsed with his arousal.

His head fell back against the cushions, his eyes closed, a ragged breath escaping his lips as you continued to tease him, your touch the only cure for his aching need. You watched him, mesmerized by the play of muscle beneath your hand, the raw power he embodied even at that moment of vulnerability.

“I can't –” His fingers dug into the cushions, his body tensing as if fighting against the tide of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.

You smiled. The power thrumming between you was intoxicating, addictive. “Can’t what, John?” you whispered, leaning in, your lips trailing a teasing path along the hard planes of his stomach. “Can’t hold back anymore?”

His answer was a strangled groan. His body went rigid, and the wave of pleasure that followed was written all over his face. His hand shot out, not to stop you, but to grip your wrist. His fingers tightened around it, his control started slipping, shattering, as his release washed over him.

You whispered small praises, and watched, fascinated, as his release spurted over your hand in hot, pulsing bursts. His hips were stuttering, his cock, hard, thick in your grasp, throbbed, and the remnants of his release felt warm against your skin. He was completely at your mercy.

You’d never felt this bold, this empowered, this reckless. Before you could overthink it, you raised your hand to your mouth and licked his come off of your fingers.

Your wish to taste him, it couldn’t get any more him than this. Salt, sweat, and something so uniquely his. It made your walls clench around nothing, sending a new wave of excitement through you.

John’s gaze snapped to yours, his eyes wide, a flicker of something dark and possessive flaring in their depths as he watched you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and reached out, his hand resting on your neck, his thumb slowly stroking along your pulse. “You’re something else, you know that, love?”

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. The sudden awareness of your actions, the intimacy of the moment, sent a wave of shyness washing over you. “I, uh,” you trailed off, averting your gaze, unable to meet the intensity burning in his eyes. Your cheeks burned, and you wanted to hide.

John’s hand shifted, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don't shy away from me now, sweetheart,” he murmured and softly ran his thumbs over your lips. “Not after that.”

“That was –” You struggled to find the words, your thoughts were a mess. “I've never –”

“Never?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, the scent of him filling your senses, making you dizzy.

“Never been that bold,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to his lips, their fullness suddenly a source of endless fascination. “Or wanted someone so intensely.”

A dark smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with triumph and something that sent a delicious thrill through you. “Good,” he growled, the word a low rumble that vibrated through you. “Because you're mine now, love. And I'm not about to let you forget it.”

And then, before you could protest – not that you had any intention of doing so – his lips crashed down on yours. It wasn’t gentle. This kiss was a possession, a claiming, a wildfire consuming everything in its path. His hand shot out to grab your neck, holding you close to him.

This really wasn't pretend anymore.

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And we’re back! In today’s episode, we have a very special guest. 😉

Also, just so you guys know, my podcast interview with the Idling in the Impala podcast is now live! For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, drug use, PTSD, violence, and another big reveal…

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Revenge could wait for one more day.

It all can wait, Ben thought. Despite how vehement he was yesterday, today, he was reminded of how good it felt to sleep in a warm bed with a beautiful woman. 

He laid there behind you, on his side. He’d woken up to the sound of music somewhere downstairs, maybe in the dining room.

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward.

Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said. “Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat. 

For so long after that day, he hated you. He told himself that he didn’t give a shit about whatever was happening to you, because you clearly didn’t give a shit about him.

But the long months wore on to longer years, alone in the dark. Too often, your words would rattle through his head, reach through his chest with ragged claws. No matter how much he fought it, all he had time to do when he was alone, was think.

He vacillated between stubborn, angry indignation, and rethinking every interaction he had with you, with Countess, the rest of the team, and beyond. Slowly, he allowed himself to retrace his steps. If only in his mind, he began to regret certain things…at least where it came to you.

Ignoring you was both harder and easier, since he couldn’t see you.

That all changed a few days ago.

Eisenstein returned to his cell, but this time he wasn’t alone. Two guards held you bound and gagged. You were just as shocked to see him as he was you.

It felt like he was suspended in time.

He saw the signs of aging in your face, but it didn’t matter. Even now, you were beautiful.

The spell of it broke when they threw you down onto the metal table usually reserved for him. He saw now that they had you in a straitjacket to keep your hands covered. The anger built inside him, almost incandescent in his veins.

“What the fuck is this?”

 The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

A realization soon dawned on Ben, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. He saw your terror, the way you wordlessly pleaded with him, asking for help with your eyes.

Part of him still hated you, but he couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t allow this sick bastard to hurt you again. Not right the fuck in front of him.

You were still his.

His hand traveled down your bare shoulder, over the gentle slope of your side, and down the curve of your hip under the covers. You shifted and hummed, edging toward wakefulness. Ben settled in from behind, protectively embracing his body around yours in a perfect fit. He began kissing along your neck, slowly.

“Hmmm I’m sleeping,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. He smirked. His lips became more insistent, along with his hand spanning your thigh.

“Wake up, then,” he said. He teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, dragged your earlobe between his teeth. You shivered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted, smiling.

Ben huffed. “Yeah, keep being a fucking brat. That’ll get me to stop.”

His beard rasped against your skin as his lips found a path down the column of your throat. Acquiescing to open your eyes, you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more room. Meanwhile, his cock pressed insistently against your ass.

You smirked and shifted your hips, grinding back against him. “Maybe I like working you up.”

“Oh yeah?” He moved your thigh over his to spread your legs for him. There the warm, blunt tip of his cock pressed at your entrance, nudging you open with shallow thrusts. You moaned in response, reaching back to slip a hand in his hair.

You were a wanton little thing, he thought, even as he reached around to bury his fingers in your pussy. Already finding wetness between your folds, he gathered some of it and rolled your clit smoothly between his fingers. You gasped his name, your hips bearing down against him.

He took the opportunity to sheathe himself all the way inside you, until his hips were snug against your ass. You made a sound of pleasure that had his balls clenching on reflex. Your voice was a curse, even without your powers.

For once, he fucked into you slowly, with long, unhurried strokes that still managed to rock the bed. Ben was surprised the frame and springs hadn’t given up yet.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” he said, close to your ear. He punctuated his words with deeper thrusts. “Say you understand.”

“Yes,” you agreed on a gasp.

“Yes, what?” He laid more tantalizing kisses along your neck and jawline. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” you said, in a coarse whisper. Ben claimed your lips in a kiss, before he kept moving inside you in languid strokes.

You were a moaning mess, your eyes squeezed shut. You grabbed at your breasts and kneaded them yourself, rolling and pinching your nipples. He strummed more insistently on your clit, until he felt your inner walls finally start to throb around him.

Your orgasm hit you in a slow, long wave as you pressed your face into your pillow. And you clenched so impossibly tight on his cock, it triggered his release as well. His arm curled around your middle and pressed you tight against him as he uttered a sharp grunt. He finished hot inside you, panting heavily into your neck afterward.

“Well, good morning,” you quipped, despite trying to catch your breath as well.

Ben’s hazy reverie broke into a chuckle. He dropped a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

When he pulled out of you, you shivered a little. He rolled onto his back, and regardless of the mess in the sheets, you turned over to rest your elbow on his pillow, leaning over him.

“I should probably tell you something,” you said.

He eyed you in suspicion. “What now?” 

You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, dragging your nails through the fuzz there.

“My family’s from Brooklyn, not a small town in Indiana,” you confessed. "Made it up to make me seem more...down to earth. Doe-eyed and likeable."

Ben’s brows shot up. He took a moment to process that information, then he shook his head.

“Fucking figures.” His arm lowered to curl around your lower back, caging you against him.

“I grew up in a brownstone that we had to share with two other families,” you said.

“So you were broke.”

“Yep. When I was born, my family spent all their savings to contract with Vought, to give me Compound V,” you explained. “Their plan was something like, if I became a famous superhero one day, I’d bring us out of our shitty life.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “So they pimped you out to Vought.”

“Essentially,” you said. You paused. He could see it was difficult for you, but you talked more about your life—the expectations from your parents, the training, the grueling schedules and the robbing of your childhood. 

“When my mom died, I…I realized just how much they took from me,” you said, gazing up at him. “Isn’t that horrible?”

Again, Ben shook his head. His hand had been caressing up and down your back, but it stopped now. Part of him was still reluctant, but he told you about the biggest lie of his life. That he hadn’t grown up poor or struggling. That his father practically owned half of Pennsylvania, and Ben had been a spoiled rich kid. He’d also gotten kicked out of boarding school after starting a fight.

“My father said I wasn’t worthy of his name,” he said, with a wry turn of his lips. “So I went out, talked to some of his golf buddies in the War department, and got myself into the Vought program. I became Soldier Boy.”

You listened with rapt attention. Not interrupting him, just giving him the time he needed to find his words.

“When I came home after the war, my mother was just as proud as she’d ever been,” he recounted. But he didn’t smile. “My father took a good look at me, maybe for the first time in my life. And you know what he said?”

You gave him a questioning look, silently prodding.

“He said I took a short cut. ‘A real man wouldn’t have cheated,’” he said.

When he eventually met your gaze, you at least didn’t look pitying. Just understanding.

“I guess we both have daddy issues, huh?” you said.

Ben shook his head. Then he eyed you. “You don’t look that surprised by all this.”

You smiled, a little sheepish. You stroked your thumb across his chin.

“I can sense when a man is lying to me, remember?” you said pointedly. “I clocked you a long time ago, pal. Mostly any time you told some fake war story... You didn't fight in the war, did you?”

He frowned in offence, even though you both knew he couldn’t deny it.

"I was there," he said.

You gave him a knowing look. "Ben."

"I fucking would've, all right, but by the time I got there it was pretty much..." He waved a dismissive hand. His brows were crunched along with his worsening frown. You felt his embarrassment, and as a result, his agitation. You were glad to finally get the truth in his own words, but you didn't want to work him up in that way either.

You tried softening him with a kiss to his cheek. You rubbed a soothing hand over his arm.

“So what do you want to do when we get our lives back?” you asked, purposefully changing the subject. “After the whole payback thing.”

Ben sat up with you against the headboard. His upset slowly faded away with your ministrations, your gentle touch, and his expression fell into contemplation.

“I always thought I had time, but uh…I thought I’d eventually settle down. Have a couple of rugrats of my own. Raise a family,” he said. “Thought I could do it better than my old man.”

You tilted your head at him with a certain measure of surprise. Out of everything he might’ve said, that one didn’t occur to you. Although, with his upbringing, you supposed it made sense. You smiled.

“You might have a few of those out there somewhere,” you said.

He chuckled. “I've always thought so.”

He looked at you in a way he hadn’t before, a bit gentler, with something else you couldn’t name. Your face warmed as something fluttered in your lower belly.

“So tell me then. What do you want?” he asked.

Once you worked through that bit of nerves, you thought about his question. It took you longer than you thought it would to come up with an answer, but when you did, it was the most honest thing you could think of.

“I want to be happy.”

He paused, not expecting that answer. Then he nodded, with a short hum.

You sighed. “Okay, if you really want to go after Vought, I think I have an idea of where we should start.”

I can’t believe it. This thing still fits me pretty well, you thought. You twisted in the mirror to examine yourself in your old black and violet supe suit, though you didn't bother with the mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was already with your generous host, sat with widespread legs on the couch while he smoked a large blunt. His smoke coiled out lazily.

“You gotta believe me, I didn’t know what they were planning,” said Arthur Cohen. AKA: The Legend. He had been forced into a chair, though Ben hadn’t bothered tying him up. The man knew better than to make a false move. He was a decade older, and lucky for him, even wiser.

His penthouse apartment in New York looked more or less the same. Hit records and old successful movie posters adorned the walls, like a true has-been.

“Yeah, you said that fifty fucking times already,” Ben snarked. “What you haven’t said, is why.”

“To be honest, I never asked,” Arthur said. His expression soured. “Stillwell and Stan Edgar shivved me out of that decision, those uppity fucks. Then they got me fired on some technicality.”

“Allegations of embezzlement, or so I heard,” you said, reentering the room.

Arthur raised a finger. “Not true. That money was well earned backpay.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I know you’re lying, right?” You approached the men and crossed your arms. “What’s the lay of the land now?”

“Well, Stillwell’s the new me. Stan’s the new CEO. They disbanded Payback after you disappeared. The others are either working new gigs or are in early retirement. But I heard Vought’s working up to creating a new team.”

You nodded and shared a glance with Ben. He looked a little too chilled out right now. Apparently, Arthur had the good stuff.

“Before we jump into the frying pan with this, I want to go see my family,” you said. “Would you…want to go with me?”

Ben blew out more smoke, gesturing at Arthur. “I’ll keep this one company until he finds our old team. Make sure he doesn’t fuck off to Rio.”

You felt the sting of disappointment, but you sighed and agreed.

“Just…wait for me to get back before you go anywhere,” you said. You saw Ben prickle a little at being “told” what to do. You lowered down to his lips.

“Please?” you said, plying him with a kiss, and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

He tightened his hand on yours. His gaze drew over you, briefly with more clarity through his high.

“Fine,” he said. “Be careful.”

You nodded with a smile, giving him one more kiss goodbye.

Your father was the longer drive north than your brother’s house in Queens, so you headed up to find the former first after borrowing a car from Arthur. According to him, your father had moved upstate to Albany after your “death.” 

Now, you understood why.

He lived in a two-story house on a whole acre of land, complete with three cars, a pool, and oh yeah, his new girlfriend. She looked good hanging off his arm in Atlantic City, as you saw from a picture on the wall—after you broke into the house, that is. To be fair, they’d left the sliding glass door open in the backyard.

Your dad was dressed like he just got home from the golf course, walking over from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped his glass of wine in shock when he saw you standing there, admiring the only framed picture of you, your mother, and Chris on one of the display shelves. Glass shattered across the hardwood floor.

“Hey, Dad,” you said. You turned to him, not bothering to hide your disdain.

He gaped for a few seconds as he tried and failed to make his mouth work. He pointed at you with a shaking hand, your name finally falling from his lips.

“It’s a beautiful place,” you said. You gestured widely at your surroundings. “It’s nice to see that you finally got what you wanted.”

He tried to go to you, to embrace you, but you held out a hand. Your lips trembled as you fought the onslaught of your emotions. If he touched you, you might not have been able to control your actions.

“Did you give any of the settlement money to Chris and his family? Or did my death just make you rich,” you asked.

Your father’s eyes closed. He released a heavy sigh before he was able to meet your gaze again.

“He wouldn’t take any of it,” he admitted.

Your tears stung in your eyes as you smiled a little. “Sounds like him.”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Again, he tried to get closer to you, and again, you held him off.

“The only thing I need from you is to keep doing what you’re doing,” you said. “Keep living your life like you no longer have a daughter.”

With that, you stalked out of the house and shot out the door, back to your car, no matter how much he called out after you. You got into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel once, twice, venting your frustrations. But you forced yourself to take in deep breaths to calm yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

He wasn’t worth it.

You wondered if you should go see Chris though. Would it be safe for him and his family? Was Vought watching them as a contingency, if you ever escaped?

You weren’t sure. You rucked through your purse lying in the passenger seat for the weird “cell” phone Arthur had lent you. You wanted to check in with Ben first, before you went anywhere else.

You started to dial, but a gloved hand shot out and injected a needle into your neck. You startled at the sharpness and the feeling of a chemicals rushing through your body. Your eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

All you saw was a blurry, black mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking plastered.

He had been ever since you left yesterday morning. In his unrest, he’d moved on to a handful of whatever opiates Arthur kept in his medicine cabinet.

Christ I’m fucking bored.

He glanced down at the phone in his lap. The one Arthur gave him, along with a list of numbers that had been taped to the fridge. The first number on the list was the cell phone you were carrying. Ben read the rest of them.

Pizza place. Chinese. Swedish massage—hmm, there’s an idea. Handy man. BEST escort service…

Ben rose a brow. An inebriated smile curved his lips.

“What makes it the best escort service?” he asked, and loudly. Enough that Arthur came over from where he’d been making calls in his office, trying to find the rest of his former teammates’ whereabouts.

Arthur raised a brow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

Ben shot him a terse warning look. The other man raised his hands.

“Eh, I’m three times divorced. What do I know?” he said, but he sighed and gave Ben a long look. “It just seems to me that you and Sirena got a good thing goin’, that’s all.”

The thought of you managed to cut through the haze of drugs clouding Ben’s mind. He frowned.

“That’s how Missus #1 caught me, with one of my ex-assistants in the jacuzzi,” Arthur said, with a mild grimace on his face. “She got that house in the divorce. Well, that and the kids.”

Ben looked over at him blankly.

Heaving a sigh, Arthur went back to his office.

Ben glanced down at the list of numbers in his hand, and the cell phone in the other. What the fuck was taking you so long then?

He dialed the first number on the list—your number. It rang several times, but you never answered. He called you again, waited a few minutes, then called you a third time. You weren’t answering.

His frown worsened, along with a suspicious prickling up his spine. Fuck...

He'd felt it the moment he let go of your hand, but he'd been too out of his mind to actually listen to his instincts; the same ones that warned him not to let you out of his sight. And more importantly, not to let you go.

He got up from the couch and stormed into Arthur’s office, shoving the door open. Arthur jumped in his seat. 

“What? What’s the matter?”

“She’s not picking up the fucking phone,” Ben said. He paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Arthur didn’t ask him the predictable question: how do you know? He just took in the look on the supe’s face and knew it wouldn’t be wise arguing. He tried calling your father's home, but all the man would say was, "She left. She's gone."

Arthur hung up with the man, and for a long moment, he sat pensively while Ben angrily paced the small office, like a tiger confined in its enclosure.

“It’s possible that Vought knows you guys made it back,” Arthur said. At the dark look on Ben’s face, the other man rubbed his chin with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to track her down for ya. In the meantime, I’ve got Countess’s address. Maybe she'll even have an idea of where to look for Sirena.”

He slid a piece of paper toward Ben across his desk. He grabbed it, pointing a threatening finger at Arthur.

“Find her.”

You woke with a groan. You knew a drugging when you felt one, and this was it. Someone had given you a powerful sedative.

You were alone in a white padded cell, lying on a cot. It was all too familiar.

Except for the tall figure in black standing in the middle of the room, watching you. You gasped with a jolt, pressing your back against the wall after you sat up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Irving?”

Black Noir stepped closer until he was sitting beside you on the cot. Tentatively, he raised a hand up to touch your cheek with gentle, gloved fingers.

Your shock gave way to anger. You slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?!” you said sharply.

Noir backed off at once, as if you’d struck him a real blow. He got up, went over and grabbed a dry erase board that had been lying against the far wall, along with a marker off the floor. He wrote something down on it, then he showed you.

You shouldn’t have come back to NY.

You frowned, both at what he “said,” and in confusion. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you?

“What did you expect?” you asked incredulously. “For me and Ben just to disappear forever? To let you keep ruining our lives?”

Noir paused at that. He tilted his head with a long look at you. With your abilities, you were able to sense that he was disheartened, and even angry. He erased the board with his arm and wrote something else.

Do you love him?

You blinked at the question.

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew.

Soldier Boy

Emotion rose high in your throat, but you worked past it with a swallow, and a deep breath.

“That’s none of your business,” you said.

Noir just stared at you, his head tilting forward. The longer he stood there, watching you, waiting for an answer, the longer you prickled with unease.

He erased the board and wrote the same question again. He held it out for you to see, shaking it once in emphasis.

Do you love him?

You hesitated, but you didn’t want to lie anymore, even to yourself.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “I know what he’s done, believe me, but he isn’t a monster.”

Noir’s head twitched. You felt his anger intensify. He dropped the board onto the floor, startling you, but all he did next was slowly raise his hands to take off his helmet. He showed you what was left of his mottled, disfigured face—the burnt skin and the divot in his skull that had never fully healed.

Your mouth parted in shock as tears sprung in your eyes. You tried to avert them, but Noir stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, turning your face up to his and forcing you to look. Your lips trembled, but you met his gaze unflinchingly.

When he seemed to be satisfied, he released you and stepped back. He placed his helmet back on.

“I understand why you hate him,” you said at last. “But you made your choice when you let them take me too. You…you changed everything for me.”

You were satisfied to feel a lance of Noir’s guilt. You had scars too, and most of them weren’t physical.

“I’m not going to apologize for my choices now,” you said, with a firm glare. “So unless you’re going to kill me, you can fuck off, before I scramble what’s left of your head.”

Your eyes glowed with your power. You opened your mouth to begin your siren’s song, but Noir turned on his heel and exited the door, leaving you alone in the cell.

A fucking chimp sanctuary. Really? Ben thought as he broke into the boundary of the reserve. About a quarter mile into the tall grass, he found a large, if rundown country style house in the middle of the woods.

“Yes, Big Daddy. I’m almost ready for you. Just let me heat these up…”

Ben raised a brow, but he gritted his teeth and kicked through the front door. There she was, Crimson Countess in all her glory, holding a set of anal beads.

She gasped at the sight of him, but she ignored the “client” on speaker on her landline phone, and dropped the beads so she could aim a fiery blast at the intruder.

Ben jumped out of the way and tossed his shield. It hit her square in the chest and sent her flying back into the wall, destroying a bookshelf and the dining table. He walked over to it with slow, heavy steps.

She raised her head with a groan, but then, her eyes watered with disbelief…and fear, when she looked up at him.

“Ben?” she said. “My God…it’s really you, isn’t it? You... you look the same.”

“You don't,” he remarked. He lowered down to grab her by the collar of her suit and raise her out of the rubble.

“How much did the Russians pay you, Donna?” he asked calmly.

She struggled to escape, her nails scraping at his gloved hand. He tightened his hold.

“They didn’t,” she admitted. Tears leaked from her eyes under her mask.

“They didn’t pay you anything?” he said through clenched teeth. “Then why?”

You know why, came sneaking voice in his mind. He tried to pay it no heed, but Donna sneered at him.

“Because,” she spat. “I fucking hated you. We all did.”

Ben’s lips pulled at a humorless smirk. His chest prickled with heat. “I should’ve known you were a bunch of sniveling, backstabbing, fucking cowards.”

“Kill me then,” she taunted. “Is that gonna make you feel better? Going to make you feel less empty inside?”

Ben’s chest began to get that nuclear glow, but he managed to fight it down, back into embers.

“Not yet,” he said. He drew her in closer. She held onto his wrist, her feet scrambling over the debris on the floor.

“I need to find someone,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

Ben and Donna sat across from each other on her living room couch, with the landline sat between them. The phone was on speaker as it rang. The longer it took, the more annoyed he became.

“This better work,” he said. She gave him a flat look.

Finally, a woman answered the phone.

“Good afternoon. Stan Edgar’s office. How may I assist you?”

“Hi Gloria, it’s me, Donna,” she said. “I need to speak with Stan as soon as possible, please.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting.”

“Trust me, he’s going to want to take this call.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid his next availability isn’t until next week. And next month if you want an in-person meeting.”

“Just tell him to call me back asap!” She said, hanging up the phone in a huff. Ben gave her an unimpressed look.

“That was your big fucking plan?” he said.

She huffed. “You think breaking into Vought is going to be easy? Let alone finding that weasel. He’s got the best security money can buy, and by the way, finding where they’re keeping your little girlfriend isn’t going to be any easier. They could’ve stashed her literally anywhere by now.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Ben got up from the couch with an angry breath. He turned away from her and rubbed at his beard in contemplation. He shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.

I should’ve been there. The thought gripped him, deep in his gut. Guilt was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

“We’re going to need help,” Donna said.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. He glanced back at her.  

“What, the rest of the fucking Scooby gang?” he snarked.

“Or you can try going in alone, guns blazing,” she shrugged. Her sharpened gaze met his. “How fast do you think they’ll kill her, just to spite you?”

Ben’s jaw clenched. Donna leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Or worse. They’ll put you back in a box and ship you back to the Russians,” she said. Her snide smile had him clenching his teeth. “Either way, you’ll never see her again.”

With everything in his being, Ben wanted to fry this bitch to Kingdom Come.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”

Donna’s expression fell. “What?"

"You heard me!" he barked, grabbing her arm to pull Donna to her feet. "Get the fuck up."

She struggled against his grip. "Where’re we going?”

“To find those fucking Twins.”

They took her car, a tiny sedan. Evidently, the end of Payback hadn’t been good for Donna’s career. Arthur had told him that, irony of ironies, she now sang at a Soldier Boy tribute act at Voughtland to pay her bills. And as he’d seen earlier, she needed to pad her income in other ways.

She was driving them up to Vermont. It was going to take days, and Ben was already sick of her.

It was a small blessing when they stopped at a gas station in the nighttime. She gave him her credit card to buy some snacks for the road while she filled up the tank. (He took the keys with him as insurance that she wouldn't bolt with the car.)

He returned with a far bigger bag than she expected. She forgot what a human garbage disposal he could be. He tossed the card back at her.

“Your card’s maxed out, by the way,” he said.

She glared at him, but she endeavored to let it go with a sigh, raising a hand to her temple. How the fuck had this become her life?

To minimize being overheard, she stepped closer to him while the gas pump kept going on her car.

“Gunpowder is the easiest one to find next. Mindstorm’s probably hiding in a hole in the middle of the woods some-goddamn-where,” she said, keeping her voice down. She gave her unwanted companion a sly look. “Though I’m thinking you want Mindstorm to stay wherever he retired.”

It brought up an unsavory memory.

After the team turned on him, Mindstorm had been the one to lock his gaze on Ben. For a moment, his feet had been rooted to the ground while Mindstorm tried to shove him deep into his mind. It had given someone the opening to slip a mask of Novichok over his face. He suspected it had been Countess.

Now, Ben turned to her with a glare at her audacity.

“You know, for a massive cunt, you’ve got some brass balls,” he said dangerously. “How the fuck didn’t I see what a vindictive little snake you were from the beginning?”

Donna scoffed in derision.

“I’m vindictive? Says the cheating, lying, bastard,” she snapped.

“Oh, shut your hole. You knew what I was doing, and you didn’t give a shit,” he said with a glare. He leveled a finger at her. “You used me to get exactly what you fucking wanted. Fame, money, and all the perks that come with it.”

Her lips pursed, like she didn’t want to admit it. But if they were airing out dirty laundry, then she wasn’t pulling any more punches.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one. Was I?” she said. “Anyone who ever smiled at you, fawned over you, or sucked your dick was trying to get something from you. Or, they were scared of you. Because you’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, Sirena won’t be able to stomach you anymore.”

The thin leash on his temper finally snapped. He reacted, reaching out to grab her by the throat. He was truly thinking about breaking her neck.

Donna choked for air and gripped his wrist. “Without me, you’ll have no one. Good…fucking…luck finding her.”

Ben was furious, but he battled it down, expelling a breath of frustration.

He released her. She coughed and gasped and stumbled a few feet away from him, glaring at him all the while through her fear.

When she was eventually able to stand again, she and Ben shared a look of mutual loathing, but also, of understanding.

It was an uneasy truce. For now.

You were quickly unraveling alone in the dark.

You felt the phantom cold of your old cell. No matter how you rubbed your arms through the leather of your supe suit, you couldn’t get warm. You released a shaky breath and swiped at your tears.

You missed Ben. He had to know by now that you were in trouble, but you didn’t know if he’d know how to find you. Or worse, if they found him first.

You steeled yourself and tried to calm your panic. You counted to thirty. Your eyes flit to every small detail of your cell that you could name: the small crack in the gray linoleum tile, the line of ants slowly creeping along the corner, the brittle wool blanket you were sitting on, laid over your cot.

When your breathing was steady, you tried to think. You didn’t know where you were, of course, but you could try to sense how big the building was.

You did something you rarely did. You cast your awareness outward as far as you could reach.

There were very few male energies, and you only picked up on a few scattered thoughts.

Until you found one. It felt…strong, but young. A kid?

Jesus Christ, what’re they doing in this place? you thought.

What…who’s there?

You heard the voice in your mind, small and afraid and lonely. Before you could answer him, the door of your cell opened to a few familiar faces.

There was an older man in a lab coat that you recognized, but you couldn’t place his name until you read his monogram. Vogelbaum. Followed by Stan Edgar and Black Noir, who came to stand behind you. You knew that if you made any wrong moves, Noir would kill you this time.

Quickly you read their energies as you observed them.

Vogelbaum gave off mild interest in you, but it felt clinical. Stan felt resigned and calculating as he took you in.

“For what it’s worth, I do wish it hadn’t come to this, Sirena,” Stan said. “We didn’t intend for you to get caught up our deal with Russia.”

He may have been telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you cared.

“You’re in the most secure lab we have,” he said, gesturing to your wall-to-wall cell without windows. “No one knows you’re here, and no one will find you.”

You smiled dryly. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want to know how you and Soldier Boy escaped the facility in Russia,” he said, gathering his hands behind his back.

What he really meant was, How did you escape? So we can make the next cell even more effective.

You leaned forward and spat at his shoes.

Black Noir grabbed you by the back of your neck and yanked you back. Your jaw clenched in anger, but you didn’t struggle. Even if you opened your mouth to sing, Noir would snap your neck before your powers had time to affect him.

Stan remained unaffected by your outburst, though he glanced down at his shoes.

“These are handmade Italian leather,” he remarked.

“Even if you find Ben, you’ll never be able to kill him,” you said tersely.

“We don’t need to kill him. Nor will we need to find him,” Stan said. “He’s already looking for you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart swelled with both hope and dread, though you tried to hide it.

“We have a plan to neutralize him. Several, in fact,” he added, and spread his hands wide. “Until then…welcome home.”

Smug bastard. You glared back at him.

He left, along with Vogelbaum. Black Noir glanced back at you once, then he was gone.

The lights in your cell turned off, leaving you in darkness. You heaved a breath and couldn’t help the tears that found hot paths down your cheeks. You curled your knees up on the cot and held them to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could pretend the room wasn’t pitch black. You focused your breathing, in and out, until your heartbeat began to slow down from its panic.

The kid, you remembered.

You licked your dry lips and tried casting your awareness out again. When you found the familiar energy from before, you reached out to him.

Hey, are you there? you prodded.

Who the hell are you?

It’s okay. Don’t be scared, you said, and you gave him your name. Are you locked up here?

Y-Yeah.

I’m sorry to hear that. I am too.

How can you be talking to me…in my head?

Well, it’s complicated, you admitted. It’s a new power I’m trying out, thanks to my time as a human test subject.

Something told you this kid knew the feeling.

What’s your name? you asked.

Um…John. I’m John.

  AN: 🤭 Oh, yeah, we're going there.

How did you like getting Ben's perspective on things? And his "forced" team up with Countess to find the rest of the cast of Payback. 😬 What could possibly go wrong?

Next Time: 

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually did.

His hand fell back to his side, letting the younger man breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 11

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[moesthoughts]

Hii could you do either a Van x Reader where either the reader is drunk or Van is and the other one takes care of them like by helping them to the bathroom to throw up and helping them undress or whatever. Pre crash. Thanksss mwah 😘

Van helping you while you’re drunk

pairing ⛧ van palmer x reader

warnings ⛧ none! pure fluff

summary . . you are on the team, yellow jackets sleepover #cuties

➛ you were planning on getting fucked up ever since the mention of a yellow jacket sleepover came up. All the stress from soccer has taken a toll on you, so why not drink the problems away?

➛ you weren’t planning on getting this fucked up though, you couldn’t even walk straight without someone being there to assist you. The world felt like it spun every step you took.

➛ luckily your girlfriend van palmer was there by your side throughout the whole night, she wasn’t sober herself.. but at least she didn’t take at least 7 shots of straight tequila. She admires your courage.

➛ you were practically black out drunk, blabbering nonsense to van as she held you securely in her arms. The others were asleep, leaving only her to stay up and take care of you.

➛ she didn’t mind one bit, it felt domestic of some kind of sort, something that van looks for in a relationship. She’d tuck your hair behind your ear, running her hand through the strands.

➛ she’ll be there to pull back your hair when you feel sick, telling you that it’s gonna be okay and she’s there. It doesn’t matter if you get puke on her, all she cares about is that you’re not choking to death on it.

➛ van lowkey loves whenever you get this drunk because of how stupid the jokes that come out of your mouth are, they have her damn near rolling on the ground in laughter. You’re just happy you get to hear that loud, cute laugh she has.

➛ not the best cook but she’ll be there to make instant noodles and microwave meals for you if you need it, forcing you to sip water so you aren’t in pain or sick.

➛ she’ll make you take a shower if you throw up, going to the extent of taking off your clothes for you, even going in the shower to help you scrub yourself. Her hands worship your skin like you’re some god, she’s just so gentle with you.

➛ will comfort you if you’re an emotional drunk, caressing your face, praising you and trying her best to calm you down. She has a way with words that nobody else has, and that’s what makes those moments special.

➛ absolutely won’t leave your side, she’s afraid if she took her eyes off of you that you’d up and disappear and the blame would land on her. She’d rather not see your face on the back of a milk carton.

➛ kisses your forehead and cheeks constantly like she’s a mother caring for her crying baby, she hates seeing her girlfriend all disheveled like this, the complete opposite of your usual self.

➛ she’ll fall asleep soon after though, she just can’t keep her eyes open past midnight. A secure arm will be wrapped around your body, her head nuzzled into your neck.

➛ she’s practically the hangover queen, she’ll stay at your house longer than the other girls just to make sure you feel better.

➛ she has pain medicine ready for you when you wake up, will make you drink as much water as you can.

➛ she will make fun of you though, telling you stories about embarrassing things you do while drunk, much to your dismay.

➛ overall, van will sacrifice any of her free time just to be there to help you throughout your drunkenness and your horrible hangover. she loves you deeply, and only wants the best for you.

Not my finest work but I still hope you enjoy it!! I ADORE van with my whole heart.

req me!

masterlist

[nectardaddy]

YOU'D NEVER KNOW . . . k. sugawara + f! reader

♬ mentally exhausted // she don't recognize herself yet // and it's getting too much to bear // but it's hard to tell by looking at her // she seems so well put together // you'd never know

                   ✩ you'd never know, evan honer 

₊˚. notes/CWs : hurt/comfort, depression + anxiety, panic attack, nausea/feelings of wanting to vomit, feelings of self loathing, reader is a teacher, not proofread, self shippy as fuck I'm sorry, this felt good to write so just…don't perceive me

 Her fingers hurt from the tight hold on the sink. Knuckles tensed and hands in an ironclad grip on the porcelain; the chips and dings on the side dug into the exposed skin of her hand, leaving small indentations and bruises from holding on for dear life.

Her chest was sore, her throat scratchy and hoarse, as each deep breath hurt worse than the last. In and out - what her therapist taught her. But she didn't believe her therapist had ever taught a room full of ten year olds, nor did she believe the professional would ever be stupid enough to do so. The deep breaths never worked. Filling up exhausted lungs with hot air could never be the solution to her problems.

Too many things to do, and not enough time.

For a moment she thought this was time wasted, bent over the sink heaving for air. Gasping and gulping for just a single, peaceful, deep breath. But she let the thought pass as soon as it came - she was always wasting time.

‘You're an asshole.’

‘I hate you.’

‘Why can't we do anything fun?’

‘Do we have to do this? Is this for a grade?’

‘Are your plans done for next week?’

‘What did you do for that child to act out like that?’

‘Remember your why.’

‘My child would never do that.’

‘You need to get a 70% passing rate or we'll lose our accreditation. We're counting on you!’

A never ending slew of questions, insults, assumptions, and standoffish statements landed her to the chasms of her own mind. Hunched over the bathroom sink, and fighting the urge to vomit. A swirling, dark, nauseating pit fell to her stomach like a rock in the morning and remained there all day; only now was she allowed to feel it. Only now, in the comfort of a rundown apartment bathroom, was she allowed to set the emotion free from a happy-faced facade that made her skin crawl, that felt wrong in every regard, and was a complete and utter lie.

She had gotten home five minutes ago, held the pulled taught feeling so strongly until the moment she stepped through the threshold. It was a crumbling tower from there on out. Cracked, broken, and out right destroyed as soon as she managed to push herself to the bathroom. Tears slipped down hot, frustrated, cheeks until the stream became a broken dam. Gushing and never ending - a nightmare to those in its wake. She cried in anger, in sadness, in grief - pure desperation to feel something other than exhausted.

She didn't hear the door open and shut softly, too focused on the task of taking a full inhale (that she never could get) to hear it. Didn't register the thud of a bag hitting the ground, or the confused call of her name. Her mind too warped with a sense of self loathing to even comprehend that there was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

Her appearance was lackluster and bleak; jostled professional attire now wrinkled and blotted with tears. But Sugawara knew the feelings the woman felt all too well: a deep pit of loathing and wanting, teetering the line of desperation and outright giving up, just before the last crack feathered out and caused chaos and mass destruction.

Her eyes flickered up to the mirror in front of her, dusty and speckled with dots of dried water - neither of them had the energy to clean it in weeks, and locked eyes with familiar brown ones. Brown ones that swam and dipped in concern and adoration, feelings she wished others would look at her with.

She watched him look over her a moment, brows knitted together before his eyes softened. “Hug? Or not yet?” Asked softly, and in second nature. The pair had a prior agreement to leave the fleeting touches for later, when they both had time to settle back into their own skin. Nothing was worse than an argument caused by overstimulation, and words spoken in anger that could've been resolved by a simple question such as this.

“Hug.”

A single word was all the man needed to engulf her in warmth.

Sugawara taught second grade, while she taught older. And to this, she thought as if the lingering smell of crayons and glue would always be a part of him. Stitched into the seams of his clothes every time he got home, soaked into his skin the moment he walked in the door until he showered. But it became a smell she associated with peace, with serenity - with love.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, like a missing puzzle piece that had finally been found. And he remained stationary, unwavering, as she closed her eyes and tried to hide herself amongst his sweater. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It'll turn into a two hour rant if I do,” she whispered, voice almost incoherent as she spoke into the fabric above his chest.

“You could go on for four and I'd still listen.”

She paused, and for a split second the nausea disappeared. His words flipped the breaker in her mind before it turned off once more, and the need to spill her guts punched her in the stomach again. Her hands gripped the wool fabric of his sweater tightly when the feeling returned, and fingers went numb as she remained tense.

“I don't know if I can keep this up, Kou. I'm so tired.” Her voice wavered and broke, another crack in her overall appearance that made his heart sink further.

“I know,” he breathed. “I know you are.” A blanket statement that he knew right down to the roots. An exhaustion that, really, no one could understand unless they too were in the profession. A tired that swam in shallow veins, and dipped into the psyche - driving one mad.

“Everything I do, and every choice I make is wrong to someone and I'm just so sick of it.” She groaned, “and I'm so sick of being told to ‘remember your why’ to legitimate concerns about something.” He hummed before she continued on, “I don't feel appreciated at all.” Her voice dropped once more, before she let out a shaky sigh, “by anyone.” She felt him rest his chin on her shoulder, and he let out a gentle sigh. Not knowing what to say to make the situation better, as he knew nothing truly would - a broken system would remain fractured whether he despised it or not.

“I appreciate you more than anything.” His voice was quiet, knowing if he spoke any louder it would rile her even more. “And I don't need a why, I just need you.”

taglist

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks 

@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @aozui 

@jadeoru @hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @sandwhitches 

@angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @crypt-0rchid

[dilfl0v3rss]

this just came to me because I was arguing with my man but..

what about reader who has a problem with calling people all types of bitches; finally meets her match and he show her who the bitch really is !

(this my first ask btw🌸)

hey boooo!! so glad you sent a requesttttt. since you didn’t say who you wanted me to write for i felt like it was the perfect time to pull this out. i now bring forth………the baldiessss!!!

calling them a b*tch

𝑜𝑛𝑦

the two of you were going back and forth. it seemed like every time you got excited to be somewhere or do something, here come ony hating ass telling you you’re not allowed.

“i really don’t care ma. if i say you not going then you not going, so take allat shit off, put on your pjs and go study. got an exam on monday and you tryna party.”

you rolled your eyes while sucking your teeth. he wasn’t even your boyfriend and he damn sure wasn’t your daddy so you seen no need to be listening to this man. continuing your journey to the door as ony watched you with a keen eye. “you not even my nigga. you just a nigga i like to fuck, so you can take your bitch ass on somewhere tryna be somebody daddy” with that you turned around to grab your shoes that were at the door, only getting to put one foot in before you were snatched up and put against the wall. “we gon see about that”

it only took ony about ten minutes to have you screaming and crying in the middle of your bed. legs held high in the air as you grabbed tightly on the arm connected to the hand around your neck.

“o-ohh my goddd why a-are you fucking me like thisss” your whines went in one ear and out of the other while ony kept his brutal pace on your bruised pussy. “you know damn well why i got you like this. you may get away wit that shit when talking to your little friends, but over here we don’t use that bitch word y’hear me?” he took advantage of your parted lips, giving you a sloppy kiss before letting his warm saliva trickle down your tongue. you eagerly swallowed him, the action bringing the both of you closer to the edge.

“i hear you daddy….i hear you”

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒

“and oneeeeee!! y’all not fuckin wit me mann!” connie yelled as he won another game of 2k. y’all were at ony’s house chilling. well no….CONNIE was at ony’s house chilling. you were there against your will, tired, and in dire need of some entertainment since your man and his “brothers” left you out completely. “i’m ready to go con” you mumbled for what felt like the a hundredth time tonight, but of course connie gave you the same old excuse.

“ten more minutes”

he didn’t even look away from the screen as he spoke. you rolled your eyes before getting up and walking to the dining room where you sat down and called your group chat. “what it do bitchesss!” your friend eboni yelled as she watched the rest of your friends begin to pop up in the call. “heyy” you said with as much energy as you could, but they could all tell you were as dry as ever. “what he do now?” your other friend erika said as she looked at the tired look on your face. you sighed, dropping your shoulders as you turned the camera around towards the back of the guys heads and back towards your face. “been on that game wit them for like two hours while i’m just sitting here”

mumbles of irritation could be heard throughout the call as your friends grew almost as upset as you. “you told him you wanna leave?” eboni asked. you gave her a “duhh” look before replying. you didn’t notice that connie finished his game, getting up as he let ony and eren play while he went to the kitchen for a snack. he was within arm’s reach of you before you started talking your shit. “like why the fuck would you bring me here if you was gon be up in your friend’s faces the whole time? if i did that to him he would be whining to me like a little bitch saying he wanna go home.”

his eyes widened in surprise as your words. anger quickly running through his veins as he snatched your phone from your hands and hung up on your friends. “bring your ass up stairs, now” you rolled your eyes at him, earning you a hard slap in your ass before he lightly pushed you upstairs and towards the bathroom. “i be whining like a little bitch? you don’t get your way and now you think it’s okay to call me out my name?” you looked up at him, arms crossed as you leaned on the sink. your attitude was still very much there so connie decided to stop with the talking. turning you around and bending you over the sink. “turn the water on. if i hear your voice over it ima really embarrass you aight? don’t test me.”

he left you no time to answer before burying two of his fingers deep into your pussy, stretching you out so good you had to quickly cover your mouth to keep from screaming. “unt uh mama, this ain’t nothing. i’m a bitch right? this should be light work for you” he taunted you, inked hand yanking yours off your mouth while his eyes dared you to make a sound. your release was coming quickly and connie knew it by the way your eyes rolled in the mirror. he took this as an opportunity to move quicker into you. his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you open your mouth to scream. thankfully it was quickly muffled by by his strong hand, while you shook and came all over his inked fingers, but you weren’t finish yet. your eyes widened in surprise as you felt connie’s fat tip prodding your entrance.

“we gon see which one of us is really a bitch in here. and you bet not run”

𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛

as the girlfriend of one of the most popular ace’s in the country, there were things you had to go through that regular women didn’t. not a day went by where there wasn’t a crazy girl trying to throw themselves onto your man, regardless if you were there or not. that wasn’t really an issue to you though since it was bound to happen given his talent. the real issue was that aran’s peanut headed ass never really dealt with that behavior the way he should.

“oh my goddd arannnn!!! please please please can i get a picture wit youuuu.”

“your muscles are so much bigger in person”

“you’re so strong i wonder how your body looks under the jersey”

you were thrown to the side once again after a game, the girls basically shoving you out the way before snatching your boyfriends attention from you.

“f’course i could take a picture wit y’all. cmon everybody get in!” he said, letting the swarm of women stand around him as he flexed for the camera. you didn’t even wait to let him finish, walking right out of the gym and towards his car. it took over half an hour for this man to finally get to the car before he looked at you leaning on the passenger side door. “why you ain’t wait f’me? s’mad dark out here and you all alone.” he said, looking around at the almost empty parking lot before looking at you.

“you looked a little busy entertaining bitches fantasies and ian wanna interrupt” you spit before turning around to open your door. of course his fast ass locked it before you could even touch the handle, waiting patiently for you to turn back around before he spoke. “you mad at me for taking pictures?” his confusion made you scoff. was he playing or was he really that dumb? regardless you were over it. “knew your bitch ass wouldn’t get it. got so many different girls heads up your ass you don’t got time to think about your girlfriend” aran leaned down towards you face, putting his ear closer to your lips so he could “hear you better”

“my what?” you looked up at him, challenging him as you repeated yourself. “your bitch ass. cant hear or sum?” a small smirk made its way to his lips before he unlocked the car doors. “nah i just needed to make sure”

you didn’t even make it to the front seat before aran yanked your ass up and threw you in the back. crawling in right behind you before teaching you your lesson.

“there you go ma, keep ridin that dick” aran groaned as he watched your ass bounce repeatedly in front of him. legs burning as you gripped the center console for support. “i l-learned my lesson pa pleaseee” you whimpered as you felt his large hand land a heavy smack on your ass, the skin already hot and aching from the previous slaps. “nah…nah ion think you leaned shit. we have this conversation almost every other week. these lil girls out here don’t mean shit t’me. they can take as many pictures they want because at the end of the day who do i go home wit?”

you mindlessly kept bouncing on his dick, too fucked out to even respond properly. “y’go home wimme daddy” a smirk made its way to his face as he listened to your slurred speech. you were fucked dumb. “that’s right mama. daddy goes home wit you…daddy only ever gon go home wit you” you nodded along to his words, feeling your release on the tip of your tongue as he continued to speak. “now apologize t’me for being mean. you know how i feel about that bitch word”

aran quickly pulled your back to his sweaty chest, kissing up and down your neck as he quickly fucked into you from the bottom.

“m’sorryyyy. won’t happen againnn”

𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑎

“fuckkk. you always suck me so well mama” he groaned as he watched you work between his thighs. two hands stroking his shaft as you quickly moved your mouth all over his tip. there was spit all over your face and hands, but that only turned tanaka on even more. it’s been weeks since the two of you got to have sex since your boyfriend is always out and about being the best personal trainer he could be.

you looked up at his toned body in adoration as you began to suck him sloppier, slapping his pink tip on your tongue before taking him fully down your throat. *ring ring* the sound of his phone snatched him out of his lustfull trance. you were too busy hard at work so you didn’t notice, but when you glanced up at him the sight made your blood boil. this nigga was on the phone.

“hello?….yea f’course….nah that’s not a problem at all. would the gym by mall work for you?….aight coo, see you then”

you let go of his dick with a pop, giving him a confused look as you waited for him to explain what the fuck just happened. “client just called. said they wanted an extra work out” your jaw was on the floor. there was no way he was serious. “and you took it?” tanaka looked at you with a blank look, as if you should already know his answer. “duhh i took it. he’s been making good progress and ion wanna mess that up for him now.” you scoffed, standing up from the floor before walking towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. tanaka followed you, looking dumb as ever with his dick still out of his pants. “you not gon help me finish?”

you gave him a death stare before pushing past him and making your way to your side of the bed. “go have your fucking client suck it. since you running to his beck and call like you his bitch or sum” as soon as the words left your lips you felt a strong hand wrap around your throat. tanaka kept his voice steady, but by the grip he had on your neck you could tell he was pissed. “don’t say that shit again.” he said quietly, using his other inked hand to lift your chin up towards his face. tanaka leaned down, lips almost touching yours before he spoke again. “where you learn that at huh? ‘cause i know i never let you talk to me like that and i still don’t. you forgot where you at ma?”

he spoke lowly to you, making a shiver run down your spine as well as wetness rush through your panties. you didn’t say a word, pretty doe eyes looking up at him as you waited for his next move. “spread your legs f’me ‘kay?” you obeyed him without question. fear coursing through your veins as you watched your man angrily rip your panties in the middle. you eagerly waited for him to fuck you, little whines leaving your mouth as you watched tanaka tease your clit with his tip. “say you sorry first mama. ion play that disrespectful shit and you know that.”

“m’sorryyyy” you dragged your voice out to show extra remorse as you kept your legs wide for him to take you. a small smirk crept on tanaka’s face as he watched you listen to each of his commands without hesitation.

“just made you listen to my every word all for some forgiveness” he mumbled as he sunk half of his long dick into you.

“so who’s really the bitch?”

[st4rgzer]

now playing…SO LONG, LONDON (spencer reid)

summary: spencer realizes how much damage he had been causing you.

genre: angst with fluffy ending

cw!: idk relationship problems?😭 also use of y/n and y/l/n (your last name)

a/n: so since y’all wanted a happy ending version! here it is, it isn’t quite like the song but yeah, you guys get the point. masterlist

tension protruded eagerly from the silent room. it was dim, you had left some candles lit but that was it. your cheeks were wet and hot. but somehow you still felt an adamant numbing sensation of coldness. your weary bones hugged your knees, sniffles breaking through the silence.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on” you muttered through your broken voice.

“what?” he lifted his head from in between his legs where he had his hands pressed to the back of his neck.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on to you? were you just going to let me destroy myself, give everything i had just for you to crack a smile?” you spoke loudly now, sharp words that stung as spencer heard every one of them.

he didn’t respond. instead, he just listened. he knew the last thing you wanted from him right now was for him tp talk back, so he let you talk.

“fuck, even my friends said it was not right to be scared! not of you, but of how quickly your temperament can change from one moment to another. every breath that i take feels like im stealing it from you, like- like when i do finally get to do so, its short and doesn’t last long until i have to hold my breath again.”

“do you resent me, spencer? is that what this is? you left the BAU after you got back from prison, and i thought it was to settle down, make me your wife. but you never wanted this, did you?” spencers head perked up. his demeaner changed. he went from attentive and remorseful to stern.

“do not say that. “ he pointed a finger at you “y/n y/l/n don’t you, for a second, think i regret any minute i’ve ever spent with you, i regret a lot of things in my life but meeting you, loving you? i’ve never thought twice about that. you are my number one priority in this life, and im sorry i couldn’t give you everything you wanted, at least not right now. but i promise, i swear on my life, if that even means anything, that i’m going to get better. and i know actions speak more than words, but please, please hold on. i’m not going to insist you stay here with me, but just promise you’ll come back when you’re ready? i love you, y/n, and i hate myself for even thinking that i hurt you.” his tone was indulgent, pleading almost. he had stood up and waved his hands frantically as he punctuated each word, meaning every one. his frazzled hair and big brown eyes kept you at bay.

for a few minutes there was silence as you quietly digested his words.

“do you mean that?” you whispered, fragile, as you looked up at him.

he nodded his head, looking away and blinking a few times. trying to hold in the tears that painfully pricked his waterline.

you sighed, attempting to weigh the pro’s and con’s of the situation, but you loved him. a mental list of the good and the bad wasn’t going to decide the fate of your life. in every relationship there’s hell in heaven, eventually, happiness comes back. all you knew was that this man encapsulated your whole being with nothing more than love and affection, so you knew that this was nothing but a small dent in the glass case that encased the rose that was your love.

you opened your arms, he hesitantly got down to your level. you held him tightly, as if the weight of the wind was to carry him away at any moment. he buried his head in qthe crook of your neck, sniffling as he let out soft sobs, and whispers of apologies.

eventually, the tears ceased. and you both laid there, enveloped. consumed by each other, hands caught in spencers hair from raking through it, as sleep caught onto you. spencer kissed the bridge of your nose gently.

“i love you”

“i love you too”

a/n: guys idk how to feel about this one, this might have been my least favorite so far😭

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @bunnylov-3-r @bellasprettywords

*comment to be added*

[thealternateuniverse]

Watch Your Attitude

Masterlist

Pairings: Mark Tuan x Reader

Word Count: 1,793 words

Warnings: Language, Smut

Hoho, this is my first time writing a smut. Don't come at me if it disappoints (I tried 😭). Plus, Mark reading his thirst tweets inspired me to create one right away.

------

You fucking hate Mark Tuan’s guts. He and his friends strut down the halls like they own the damn place, but to you? They look like a bunch of losers trying way too hard to be cool.

Every time they pass, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Except, one day, Mark catches you.

"Do you have a fucking problem?" His voice is sharp as he stalks toward you, hands tucked in his pockets.

Your brow arches as he closes the distance, arms folding over your chest. "No. Do you?" You don’t hesitate, chin held high.

The hallway stills. Students stop what they’re doing, eyes flicking between you and Mark, tension thick in the air.

"Come on, man. It's not worth it." JayB calls out, tugging at Mark’s arm.

You smirk. "Listen to your friend, Mr. Hotshot." You turn to leave, but before you can take a step, he leans in way too close.

"Watch your fucking attitude," he murmurs, voice low, almost teasing. "I'd love to see that when I bend you over."

A chill shoots down your spine. Heat creeps up your cheeks. Normally, a comment like that would earn him a slap, a sharp comeback but for some reason, your tongue is tied.

His smirk deepens. "Good girl," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin before he pulls away, turning back to his friends like he just won something.

And damn it, maybe he did.

----- 

You're peacefully scrolling through your phone, a lollipop lazily resting between your lips, when a firm hand grabs your waist, yanking you into a dark, empty classroom.

"What the fuck—"

Before you can fully react, another hand presses against the back of your neck, guiding you forward until your hands brace against a desk. Your lollipop flying somewhere.

"Let me go before I kick your balls, Tuan," you snap, twisting slightly, but his grip is firm.

"Ooh, scary." His voice drips with amusement, low and taunting. "But tell me, princess, if you really wanted me to stop, wouldn't you be fighting a little harder?"

His fingers trail along your thigh, brushing the hem of your skirt, and you try not to react but he catches the way your breath hitches.

"Just what the fuck do you want?" you demand, your voice sharp. "And get your damn hands off me."

He chuckles, and somehow... the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

"Princess," he murmurs, "I told you before, I wanted to see that attitude when I bent you over. And guess what? You didn’t disappoint." He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now I want to see if you still have that bite when you're begging for more."

Your heart hammers against your ribs. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off but the worst part? You're not sure you want to.

When he lifts your skirt slightly, your breath catches. Your body betrays you, arching just enough to give him an invitation you shouldn't be offering.

"Careful, princess," he muses, his palm resting against the curve of your ass. "You're slipping out of character."

Before you can fire back, his hand comes down in a sharp, teasing smack. You gasp except what comes out isn’t a protest. It’s a sound you don’t mean to make.

His smirk is practically audible. "Oh? Was that a moan?"

Your breath catches when Mark’s fingers brush against you, teasing, testing. His touch is deliberate, like he’s savoring every reaction.

"Oh?" His voice is laced with amusement. "Good girl. Already this wet for me?"

You bite your lip, determined not to make a sound but the way he moves his fingers, slow and purposeful, makes it impossible to stay silent. A sharp inhale slips past your lips as he deepens his touch, pushing into you further into the moment.

"Tell me," he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear. "Did that turn you on?"

Your hips move instinctively, chasing the sensation. Just as you’re about to lose yourself, he stops.

A frustrated whine escapes you before you can stop it.

"Use your words, princess," he taunts.

Your pride wars with your need, but he's too good, and you both know it. He starts to pull away, and panic surges through you.

"Fuck—yes!" The words burst out before you can stop them. "I want more."

Mark chuckles, satisfied. "That’s more like it."

He picks up right where he left off, and this time, you don’t hold back. You don’t care who hears.

"I want the same energy when I’m inside you, princess," he murmurs, voice dark and commanding. "Keep moaning for me."

"Yes, Mark! Fuck, faster!"

The pressure builds, your grip tightening against the desk. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, his voice cuts through the haze.

"Don't you fucking dare," he warns, grip tightening. "You'll come when I tell you to."

You hear the slow, deliberate sound of Mark unbuckling his belt, the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants and boxers down. Curiosity wins over, and you glance back only for your breath to hitch at the sight of him.

Your eyes widen. Oh.

Mark catches you staring, and a slow smirk spreads across his lips. "What's wrong, princess? Not so mouthy now, huh?"

He steps closer, the heat radiating from him making your skin prickle with anticipation. You swallow hard, instinctively tensing as you feel him against you, teasing, testing your limits.

"Let's see if you still have that attitude," he murmurs, voice low and taunting.

You gasp at the sensation, your grip on the desk tightening. Every nerve in your body is on edge, torn between anticipation and the undeniable intensity of the moment.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips. The tension between pleasure and challenge hangs thick in the air, pushing you further into the moment.

A sharp, unrestrained moan escapes your lips, nails digging into the wood beneath your palms.

"Fuck, Mark!"

His grip tightens. "That's right, princess. Keep saying my name."

He moves, slow at first, teasing, testing before finding a rhythm that leaves you breathless. All you can do is cling to the desk, moaning like a mess, lost in the sensation.

"Fuck you, Mark Tuan!" you manage to gasp, though your voice betrays you, laced with something dangerously close to surrender.

Mark chuckles, his grip tightening. "Oh, princess," he taunts, his breath hot against your skin. "That's exactly what you're getting."

His hand moves, fingers pressing against you just right, and suddenly, the tension inside you snaps. A sharp cry escapes your lips as pleasure crashes through you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Mark follows seconds after, releasing his load inside you, his grip tightening as he groans low in satisfaction, his breath warm against your shoulder.

You nod frantically, barely able to form words, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy rhythm of your breathing, the lingering heat between you still crackling like electricity in the air. Then, finally, he leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

"Good girl," he murmurs, smug and satisfied.

And damn it, you don't even have the energy to argue.

Once Mark is fully dressed, belt buckled, he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief to clean you up, wiping away the mess on your thigh. You watch, still catching your breath, as he casually tucks it back into his pocket like it’s nothing.

"That’s nasty," you mutter, fixing your hair.

He chuckles. "I’m gonna frame it in my room."

You wince. That’s disgusting. And yet... kind of hot?

Before you can dwell on that thought, he steps closer, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The unexpected softness throws you off, but what really shocks you is what he says next.

"Come on, let’s eat. I’ll buy you another lollipop." A smirk tugs at his lips. "I get turned on watching you have it in your mouth."

Before you can respond, he leans in, pressing a quick peck on your lips—then another on your cheek. Your brain short-circuits.

"Wait—" You blink at him, trying to process. "Is this you asking me out?"

Mark smirks. "If it weren’t for that attitude of yours, I might’ve asked you properly. But this isn’t bad, I guess."

A chuckle slips past your lips as you shake your head, but you don’t pull away when he grabs your hand. Instead, you let him lead you out of the abandoned classroom like it’s the most normal thing in the world as if he hadn’t just bent you over that desk five minutes ago.

Just what the hell happened?

Stepping into the hallway, you barely take two steps before you run into Yugyeom and Bambam. They stop dead in their tracks, eyes wide, jaws practically on the floor.

Mark shoots them a glare, and they immediately look away but not before you hear Yugyeom whisper to Bambam, "They both smell like sex."

Your eye twitches.

"They must’ve done it in that poor classroom," Bambam replies, shaking his head like he’s disappointed.

You roll your eyes. "You know I can hear you, right?"

Mark squeezes your hand. "Ignore them."

"I am."

But just as you think you’re in the clear, Mark suddenly stops walking. You nearly crash into his back.

He glances over his shoulder, and with that damn smirk still on his lips, he says, "Man, you really need to keep that attitude in check."

Your mouth drops open, realization hitting you like a freight train.

Oh, he’s really gonna fuck your attitude out.

[luvyunjinxo]

college roommate ; giselle

A/N: long awaited fic after about seven months :( hope u remember me haha

CW: red flag giselle, bondage, usage of the word slut 😭, slight choking, face riding, edging, friends with benefits, somewhat proofread, lmk if I forgot anything!

you were starting college in august & they let you start moving into your dorm a month early. with all the moving boxes going around through the dorm halls everyones face was kind of blurred out.

though your roommate in particular,, she looked straight up hot and straight from Japan. you only had to share a room with one other person (thankfully) and it was her. was it a friend crush? or crush?

you had to wait a month to actually talk to her but honestly did you forget about her?? no.

you waited a month for you to actually talk to her and when you finally did she was a total bitch.

"hey do you need help with unpacking?"

"no fuck off?.." as she would shove your shoulder and walk straight out of your shared room.

she would rarely talk to you but I mean it still happens. like if you were in the bathroom for too long, or if you were gone for too long.

she was very possessive over you and you never got why? whenever she saw you with someone else she would start asking a whole bunch of questions.

what was worse is that your dorm wasn't even that big. your beds were right next to each other almost converting into one bed thats how close they were.

so annoying. she would have hookups with girls almost every weekend leaving you no choice but to go out every single friday, saturday, and sunday. what did you spend your time doing?

spending your nights with ning yizhuo or better as ningning.

she was your situationship, or just talking and you wished it would be more but its really not.

it was your time to walk home but ning decided to walk with you.

"so how do you like your new roommate?" ning asked.

"I mean shes okay but it feels like there's tension you know?" you said while grabbing nings hand to hold.

she smiled at you as you guys skipped all the way to your dorm.

meanwhile, aeri uchinaga was taking out the bedsheets from her last hookup session which was not even twenty minutes ago..

messy hair, all sweaty, no shorts on, only an oversized t-shirt and underwear.

you unlocked the door with your key walking up to your bedroom with ning thinking you could go lay in bed with her i dont know,, or maybe just sleep.

you held her hand running to the room just to see a half naked giselle on her bed taking pictures with her phone, probably sending that to her hookups. ugh, you hate her so much.

"ning wait outside the room for a minute please?"

"oh no problem! just tell me when to come back in." she sat on the ground outside of the room trying to listen what the hell is about to happen in there.

"bro did you even change the sheets?!"

"what the fuck you knew I was coming home around this time why didnt you have shorts on?"

"shit aeri, i hate you youre such a slut." you kept throwing words and screaming at her like there was no tomorrow until ning knocked on the door again.

"hey I think I should go?" you pulled her inside to introduce her to giselle who was in shorts, quiet, and annoyed.

"aeri, this is ningning, ning this is giselle my roommate"

"whatever, are you guys a thing?" aeri questioned while motioning for you both to sit down.

here we go again, shes gonna interrogate her.

"uhm yeah? you could say so" ning responded.

"well did little y/n tell you that were dating and that were talking? so I don't know how you are"

what. the. fuck. is all can go through your head right now.

ning looked at you in shocked with no words and just left. I just know she was broken.

the worse part is all of this weren't even true? you and aeri barely talk and now you just wanna be a bitch to her forever.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? you're such a fucking slut you even wanted me to be dragged into your girl fantasy."

aeri was tired and exhausted but there was so much rage in her eyes. how many times was y/n gonna call her a slut?

suddenly you were being pushed onto the bed, leaving you on your back. both hands were being tied and lifted up to reach the headboard.

"whos the slut now? youre practically weak at this point."

she was trying so hard to get your shorts off but you would kick your legs trying to stop her yet her grip was too strong for you to even move your legs anymore. "why are you doing this to me?" you said with such attitude.

"trying to put you in your place because your such a brat?" she said while sliding your underwear off. she spread both of your legs one to the left, and then to the right.

she walked around the room scolding you, and saying how much of a bad girl you were when you did nothing. or you thought you didnt?

you never really realized how much her words were turning you on. all you could feel were the cold air reaching your core. the ac was on making you especially chilly.

wet slick was running down your thighs and of course you noticed. you felt so bothered you just wanted to be touched already. you weren't the type to always touch yourself, you were more inexperienced. but this time, you felt extra needy you just needed some relief.

"aeri this isn't funny anymoree" you whined.

she crawled up to your core and started kissing your inner thighs making you start to start to arch your back and move uncontrollably. she barely even started.

she moved her finger up and down your body, teasing you in every way. you felt so helpless and you couldn't resist her touch anymore. you needed her,, right now. she started squeezing your chest swirling each bud with her tongue and flicking the other with her slender fingers.

she continued to do the same motion but moved her head up to your neck leaving marks and wet kisses along the crook of your neck.

"youre enjoying this way too much, are you sure im still the slut hm?"

she pressed her knee up to your soaked core, adding pressure to your sensitive spot.

"answer."

you suppressed your moans so in order for you to hide it, you could not answer nor say a word.

one hard slap to your core was made leaving an echo in your shared room.

"im sorry!" you whined & your brain was foggy so of course you didn't know what to say except sorry.

your slick was covered on the bed,, you were so messy at this point.

two slaps.

"answer,, whos the slut now?"

"me oh my gosh aeri .. fuck! just do something, anything! please I just need to come so bad."

she started eating you out, cleaning the mess all over your thighs. she switched between small licks and full on devouring you.

later, she found your clit teasing that spot over and over again leaving you twitching. seeing how the way you move she knew that you were the most sensitive down right there. she was def gonna tease you with that later.

"mmh! fuck" you would let out endless curses.

you gripped onto the pillow above you knowing that you cant take this much pleasure. it was all to much yet you were eager to let go.

"if youre close, hold it. im not letting you come yet."

she entered two fingers in, not caring if you weren't fully adjusted yet. all the pain later then converted into pleasure. she gripped your neck lightly but not choking you, more like just holding it.

"s-shit im gonna come,, aeri dont stop please!" you screamed yet she pulled her two fingers away and licked it,, not letting you reach your high.

"on top of my face."

"excuse me? is this what people really do?"

"put your cunt on my face is that a problem? i'll break ningnings heart telling her how her talking stage is fucking with her roommate now and that your never coming back to her."

you completely forgot about ning. your brain was messed up at the moment. like a spell under giselle. she later then united your hands

you carefully put your cunt onto her as she pulled you down more, allowing her to get more access to you. she swirled her tongue around your clit like how she did with your chest and tried to enter a finger into you.

"f-fuck keep hitting that area!"

"right there? hm?" as she started to play with the exact spot and you swear you were about to let go.

"im g-gonna come! aeri please!" you let go and you collapsed back onto the bed exhausted and still trying to catch your breath. she just giggled and you guys agreed to be friends with benefits.

"call me if you need someone to fuck, dont call your hookups anymore im done with that."

she laughed and shook it off,, but on the other hand you still went out with ning.

aeri wasnt too fond of it but whenever giselle was around ning and you she would pay close attention to you both making sure things wouldn't go to far.

college roommate ; giselle.

[soxcietyy]

Hello, I wanted to ask you (if you are not busy at university) a story where Yuuta is jealous because you have been talking to Itadori and Megumi and he asks you to go to his room and he fucks you hard.

(It's not my native language because I don't know if it's right)

Jealousy

typed this in the library when i should of been studying.

Another exhausting day at school has you dragging your feet across campus. You couldn’t walk anymore from his far your classes were from each other. Yuuta on the other hand looked like it was no problem for him. He happily walked next to you as he held your hand, pulling you along with him. You had no idea how he wasn’t burnt out yet, he can’t be human. Especially during finals.

You could hear your name be called out from a distance as you thought about how much you hated school. Turning your attention around you could see Yuji waving at you to grab your attention. Next to him was his best friend Megumi. Putting a halt to your movement you feel as Yuta continues to pull you along.

"Hey, the guys are here! Let’s see what they want." You say as you pull him back.

You could hear as he heavily breaths through his nose. He looked bothered that someone had stopped your little stroll. He’d do this often where he would try to avoid interactions with people when he was with you.

As the boys approached you also walked closer to them.

You could feel how Yuuta stared at you from behind. Waiting for a conversation that hasn’t even started to be over.

"Hey y/n! Yuuta!" Yuji says as he waved once again. The boys and Yuuta were roommates and saw each other everyday. You on the other hand didn’t see them too often. " We’re going to go out and eat. You should come y/n! It’s been so long since we’ve eaten out and I don’t think I can handle an empty stomach any longer." Itadori says as he holds his stomach.

Megumi shakes his head knowing it was going to be a long day.

He was right about it being a while. The classes you guys have recently been taking were hard and time consuming. You’ve been going to school, work, doing homework, and studying every day. Maybe it was time for a little well deserved break. Plus hanging out with Yuji was always fun.

Turning back to look at Yuuta for approval, who had his hands in his pockets and a stoic face. He didn’t like the idea from the looks of it. "Common Yu! It will be fun, like old times!" You say as you drag him into the circle.

He closes his eyes for a moment with his arms now crossed. "Fine." He finally spoke out.

"Yay! So it’s set! Shall we go now!?" You say jumping up and down.

Everyone eventually agreed to the restaurant and headed that way. As you guys walked to the place you felt Yuuta pull you closer to him. His face leaning down to your ear.

"Better be as joyful as you are now later tonight." Yuuta says as he caressed your shoulder.

Shivers went down your spine knowing what was coming later on.

At the restaurant you guys caught up with each other. Talking about school, work, love and life in general. It was a really wonderful conversation you guys were having. Yuuta on the other than was ready to go the second you guys got there. The two of you sat next to each other at a 4 person table. He would squeeze your thigh signaling you that it was fine. You simply ignored him though.

"Oh y/n I noticed you’ve changed your style." Yuji says as he takes a sip out of his drink.

You couldn’t help but blush because he had noticed something like that. It had taken Yuuta a few days to catch into your style change. As the both of you spoke about clothes you could see Yuuta’s eye twitch from the corner of your eye. His leg bouncing up and down as he grew more impatient.

"Yuuta senpai we’re actually thinking of going to the gym later to work out our upper body. Do you think you could give us some advice?" Megumi asks.

Yuuta dragged his eyes in between both of the guys. Thinking about what his answer should be. "Yea I’m down for that." Yuuta crosses his arms. "Now that I think about it I also told Y/n I was going to help her with something. If we go do it now then I can definitely go over your work out routines." Yu uta cocks his head.

"Oh absolutely! We’ll meet you at the gym we might stop at the dorm to pick something up though!" Yuji exclaims.

That’s how Yuuta managed to get you guys out of that lunch outting. He was really quiet on your walk back to his dorm. His heavy arm weighing your shoulder down as he rested it on you. The second you guys got into his room he scanned the area. Making sure it was just the two of you. When he realized it was safe he pulled you into his embrace. Hands running down your back all the way to the waistband of your bottoms. While his hands were occupied he also put his tongue to work. Shoving it inside your mouth unexpectedly. He explored your mouth roughly as he got more hands with you. Putting his hand under your shirt and cupping one of your brest. Fondling the soft flesh aggressively.

You groan as he pulls your bottoms down. Pushing you over his desk that had many pencil is and papers scattered on it. Infront if you was a mirror that reflected his unhappy mood. He spread your legs with your knee and pushed you down so you could arch your back infront of him.

"You were enjoying your time hm? Having the attention of so many boys on you. You are loving it, I could see it on your face." Yuuta ran his fingers through your hair.

"Yuuta they’re our friends, you know I would never see it like tha-hmp!" The sudden noice escapes your lips as you feel him shove himself inside of you without preparation.

You squeeze the edges if the desk as he slammed into you. Making you go forward and making you stand on your tipi toes. Grabbing a fistful of hair he brought you closer to his mouth.

"You rather have someone else’s attention right?" He moved the mirror so it could reflect the door. "Well let’s see how much of their attention you want if they walk through that door." He says as he lets go and starts pounding you.

"Yuuta! Ngh- your over reacting!" You say trying your best to making him slow down. "You wouldn't possibly be serious about letting them see me like this!" you say biting your lip to create less noise.

you need to be on high alert, listening to everything going on outside so you could know wen they where coming. Yuuta on the other hand didn't care. You could hear him groan and breath heavily every time he pulled back and slammed into you.

As you looked in the mirror you could see his tired eyes looking at you, refusing to look away for a second. Pulling your shirt up with a quick hard tug your breast are exposed to the air. With no second thoughts he squeezed your nipples causing you to let out a cry.

"its cute watching your sad attempts on keeping quiet." he smiles as he kisses the nape of your neck.

Moving his hands onto your hips he lift you up a bit with no issue. Then he slams into you once causing you to gasp. He was hitting such a deep part of you that you never knew he could reach. your hands fly to your mouth as he uses you as his personal cock sleeve.

your feet where no longer on the floor but you held onto the desk for support. You could hear him mumbling under his breath but you couldn’t decipher what he was saying from how foggy your mind was.

"Please, please, i'm so sorry. Just stop before you they come in here." You turn to look at him with teary eyes.

Yuta rasies his brows and stands there in thought for a second. Trying to determine if he was going to listen to you.

"Fine," Yuuta smiles

you sigh in relief.

"After I finish of course." Yuuta holds a strong grip on your hips so you could stop moving around.

"yuut- mph!" you try to stop him but was cut of by the sudden penetration. Sliding inside and out in a painfully slow pace. Obviously he was taking his time to finish so your friends wouldn’t run into you in this situation.

You couldn't help but end a glare onto his way.

"alright, alright, don't get an attitude with me now. I'll give you what you want.

He buries his face by the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you. shoving himself as deep as he could until you let out small whimpers. After adjusting himself well he began to rail you. whispering small little praises into your ear as you took him incredibly well.

[scoonsalicious]

2.3 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (protected PIV).

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky helped your soul vacate your body.

A/N: More smut, yay!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He held her until she stopped trembling, looking at her in absolute awe as she came back into herself. He’d never, in his entire, long life, had a girl come apart like that for him before. I could love this woman, he thought to himself, then immediately banished the idea from his head. He barely knew her. But, god, how he wanted to. He wanted to know everything about her, and he wanted her to know everything about him– the good, and the bad. All of the bad. He wanted her to know all of him, and still want him once she did, because even though he’d just had her, he wanted more of her, all of her. Every single bit.

“Major?” he murmured, once her body had finally stilled. 

“Hmm?” She sounded so peaceful, satiated. 

“I hate to ask this, sweetheart,” he began, feeling the flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks, “but is there any way I could–”

“Oh my god, you poor thing!” she said before he could finish. “You’ve been lying here with cum in your pants this entire time. Fuck. Come on.” She stood up, still gloriously naked, and reached for his hand. Blowing out all but one of the emergency candles, she led him by muscle memory through the darkness into her bedroom. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking the remaining candle and placing it on top of a dresser. 

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Bucky said. His breath hitched as she walked up to him, the soft golden light of the candle bouncing off her naked body. She reached down and began undoing his belt, then the fly of his jeans. Silently, she rolled the soiled clothing down his legs, helping him step out of them until he was just as bare as she was. When the power came back on, she told him, she’d toss them into the wash for him.

“Fuck,” she whispered, and he noticed her staring at his erect cock, eyes wide as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Sorry,” he said, shyly moving a hand to cover himself, but she pulled his hand away. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” she whispered, repeating his own words back to him with a smirk. “I just wanna look at you a minute.”

And god, she made him feel beautiful, scars and all. 

“I would really, really love to have that down my throat right now,” she told him, not once taking her eyes off of his, admittedly thick, dick. 

Bucky groaned. He would love that, too, but there was something else he wanted so much more right now. “Major,” he said, and she looked up at him at the sound of her name, eyes shining in the darkness. “We have all the time in the world for that, later. But right now?” Bucky stepped forward and grabbed her hip, jerking her against him and feeling satisfied when she let out a little shriek of surprise. “Right now, I gotta know what it’s like to have my cock inside of you. Please let me fill you with my cock.”

He watched her breasts rise and fall as she took in his words. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he was pretty sure her pupils had blown out, leaving only black. “Yes,” she breathed, and she flung herself at him, jumping to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. 

Bucky groaned into her mouth as he kissed her, his hands kneading into the soft skin of her ass. She felt like absolute heaven, and he nearly blew his load again once he felt her hot, wet cunt grind itself against his lower stomach. 

By the light of the single candle, he carried Major over to the bed, gently placing her down. Before he could join her, though, she leaned over and reached into her bedside table, pulling out a roll of condoms. He watched in awe as her small hands, with a slight tremble of anticipation in them, tore at the foil packaging and removed the latex. He gulped as she reached for him, giving his shaft a few long, sure strokes before rolling the condom down the length of him. 

Then, to his utmost surprise and delight, Major crawled herself over to the middle of the bed, laid down on her back, and opened her legs wide for him, a silent invitation in the smile on her lips. He must have died and gone to Heaven, he thought, because there was no way he was deserving of something so amazing in this life. God, she was so pretty, all spread open for him like a beautiful flower he couldn’t wait to pluck. 

Joining Major on the bed, Bucky settled himself between her thighs. Grasping his length, he ran the tip through her soaking wet folds, loving how her eyes rolled back each time the tip of his cock hit her clit. 

“Tell me if it’s too much for you,” he warned gently. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.” He’d been with girls in the past who hadn’t been able to take him, especially without him warming them up first, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause Major discomfort or pain. Not when she was so open and pretty for him. 

“Dick. Inside. Now,” she ordered, and he loved how bossy she sounded. Slowly, so as to give her time to adjust to the stretch of him, Bucky sunk himself into her, inch by agonizing inch. He was about half way when he paused to check in with her. “How you doin, gorgeous?” he asked. Major’s eyes were scrunched up, a look of intense concentration on her face. “Good,” she grunted. “So… thick. Keep… going.” And so, he did, moving nearly incrementally until he was fully seated inside of her. He could feel her walls squeezing him, and he wondered if he was hurting her. “Doll?” he asked, looking at Major intently. “You alright there? You still with me?”

She opened her eyes and smiled, nodding. “Just need a second,” she told him as she worked to breathe through any stretch she might be feeling. “Never… had so… big.”

Bucky grinned at that, hopeful that, whatever might happen between the two of them in the future, he’d at least be memorable in that regard.

After a few moments, Major’s breathing evened out and he felt her muscles relax around him. She was ready, and Bucky wasted no more time. He slowly slid out before snapping back into her, building up a rhythm. There was a part of him that wanted to fuck her hard, to show her what he was capable of, wanting to ruin her for any other man but him, but a bigger part of him wanted to take his time, to go slow, to savor her. 

So he kept his thrusts long and even, relishing in the feel of her every time he bottomed out, every time his tip nudged her cervix. He loved the way she squeezed him, pulled him back into her as he worked to pull out, like she never wanted him to leave. “‘S so fucking good, Bucky,” Major moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind his back and using them to pull him further into her, as if she couldn’t get him deep enough to satisfy her. He brought his lips back down to hers, kissing her with a slowness he was unfamiliar with, but that felt so right. Everything about Major, about this felt so right. “You’re doing so good for me, sugar,” he said, burying his face into her neck and sucking kisses into the skin there. “So nice and warm, so tight. Makin’ me never wanna come outta this pretty pussy.”

“Christ, Barnes,” she panted. Major yanked on the chain of his dog tags, pulling his face closer to hers so she could kiss him again, long and deep, and the motion sent Bucky reeling over the edge into his release. Not wanting to leave her behind, he brought a hand to her clit as he continued to thrust into her. “So close,” Major moaned, and he knew she wasn’t far behind. He kept rubbing, kept kissing, kept rutting his hips into this little slice of Heaven until she was falling over the edge with him.

Bucky collapsed, trying not to drop all of his weight on top of her, but Major wrapped her arms around his back and held his head to her chest, gently running her fingers through his sweat-slicked hair.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “That was amazing. You were amazing.”

Major chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “I’m pretty sure we were both amazing, together,” she said. Bucky could not disagree.

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