#i fucked it up and the delays were all off by one frame

[nyaa]

Ati 2019-10-31

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[g0dlyunsub]

for the night.

the flight back from a case gets delayed and the team’s forced to book rooms for the night. what a coincidence that you’re paired with spencer.

pairing :: s5!spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: fluff, flustered spencer, this is literally just an excuse to write about spencer with crutches

word count :: 1.7k

author’s note :: one of my favorite tropes asfdfafssfsd we all know where this is going right ;)

accompanying song :: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas

“i have to admit, i am quite surprised. engine failures are extremely rare — statistically, they only occur once every 1.4 million flight hours.”

“uh-huh, very interesting.” you roll your eyes, but the smile that tempts to play on your lips is too overpowering to withhold. 

“it is!” spencer excitedly flashes you a smile. “we’re actually incredibly lucky to avoid an in-flight shutdown, which typically happens once per million flight hours-”

“reid, i think our luck might be running dry here. it’s 1 a.m., the jet’s engines are acting up, and we can’t leave portland.”

you take both of his crutches in your hands with an exasperated sigh. it’s not his fault, and you know better than to project your annoyance at him, but the disappointment of not being able to enjoy a nice, hot shower in the walls of your home has you uptight.

with an apologetic smile, you extend your shoulder to spencer; slowly, he places his hand on you, and you help him carefully descend the jet’s stairs.

the two of you are the last to join the rest of the group on the ground, and hotch sends an acknowledging nod in your direction once he sees that you’ve been assisting spencer. 

“l/n, reid, you guys okay with rooming together for the night?”

the words don’t initially register, and it’s only until spencer speaks up that you realize hotch isn’t asking – he’s confirming.

“we’re rooming in pairs?”

hotch nods, and his sidelong stare roams over spencer’s face like he’s challenging him to continue, to contest his proposal.

“emily? jj?” you pipe up this time, sending a pleading glance at both of them. they look back at you with sheepish smiles. 

“it looked like you guys were having a really good conversation back there. didn’t want to disturb you,” emily returns, slowly raising her shoulders and mouthing sorry.

spencer clears his throat and leans into your ear. “i can probably book a room at another place-”

you widen your eyes and immediately shake your head. “no, that’s not necessary, i’m completely fine with it! unless you’re… not?”

this time, spencer’s the one shaking his head fervently. “oh no, i’m entirely comfortable, perfectly content, uh- sharing a room with you.”

you display an awkward grin. “alright then, perfect.”

—

“i’ll set your bag on the table, is that okay?”

“yeah, thanks a lot.”

you heave a sigh of relief as you close the door behind you and rest spencer’s bookbag on the wooden table. spencer slowly lowers himself into a chair, and you gently lean his crutches against the walls near the door. 

you’re pleasantly surprised by the room’s decor; its soft carpet floor and mahogany picture frames hanging from the walls easily exceed your expectations for a traditional hotel room.

you’re about to make a comment commending the room’s quality when your eyes zero in on a terrifying sight.

there’s only one bed.

you do a double take, circling around the bedroom once more to check if there’s an extra mattress lying around somewhere – at this point, you really wouldn’t mind if the bed has a trundle.

“fuck me.”

“what?” 

spencer’s eyes immediately divert to you, and he stifles his reaction to your comment with a hasty cough.

you point to the bed, which prompts spencer to crane his neck to get a better view. 

“there’s only one bed.”

spencer’s eyes widen, and his gaze snaps up to your face so fast you wonder if you’ve just made a grave mistake of telling him. 

he was bound to find out anyway.

“it’s okay, i’ll take-” you start, but he cuts you off short.

“the floor? not a chance.”

you press your lips together tightly and gesture to his leg. “please, take the bed. your leg… you’re injured.”

spencer looks down at the floor briefly, a light shade of pink spreading across his face. “no, we can… we can share the bed.”

you feel your cheeks grow hot at his suggestion, but a refusal fails to surface on your lips. 

moving your hands to your hips, you nod slowly. “only because you’re insisting,” you murmur.

a brief silence veils the air, and the two of you have utterly no idea what to do next — neither of you wants to be the one to crawl into bed first.

but the clock’s hour hand had just moved past the two, and you know your eyelids aren’t going to stay open for much longer.

with a weary sigh, you gesture towards the lightswitch. “do you mind if we dimmed the lights a little?”

spencer turns, almost hobbling on his leg, and flips the switch for you. the room turns dark almost instantly, but a faint light emanates from a lamp on the nightstand.

“are you, um, going to sleep soon?”

you hate to be the first one to bring it up, but you have to — you can practically feel the tiredness tempting you like a fuzzy blanket.

“uh yeah, we should sleep.” 

you watch as spencer grabs a pillow from his side of the bed and positions it near the edge of the mattress. you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he props himself onto the bed and rests his leg on top of the pillow, elevating his casted knee.

oh. as the realization hits you, you reach for your own pillow and gently place it next to his head. “here, use this.”

“that’s your pillow.” 

“i know.”

a soft chuckle sounds from his throat as spencer raises his head ever so slightly, allowing you to tuck the pillow beneath him.

“thanks,” he murmurs, and pats at the space next to him, urging you to join him on the bed.

once you’ve slipped your feet into the blanket, spencer stretches his arm to turn off the lamp and moves back to whisper a hushed good night into your ear.

you turn to say it back. “good n-”

his hand gently starts to wedge under your neck, and as he moves, strands of your hair coil around his fingers. 

he’s offering his arm as a pillow.

you lie frozen, your breath hitched in your throat, as his arm extends fully beneath you. 

“spence,” you exhale, caught off-guard by the sudden move.

“it’s okay. don’t worry about me,” he softly whispers, inclining his head towards your face.

you smile, though you doubt he can see your face in the pitch-black darkness. 

“sweet dreams,” you hum, and close your eyes to let sleep overtake you.

—

you wake up not to the sound of your alarm, not to the birds usually perched on the tree outside your window, but to the sound of spencer clearing his throat.

you think it’s a dream at first, but you can feel everything — the vibrations coming from his throat like he’s talking to you, his hands stroking a pattern on your back, his breaths tickling your hair.

you open your eyes to see spencer staring back at you with flustered cheeks, his eyes flickering back and forth between your face and… 

you follow his gaze and look down, only to see that your leg’s wrapped casually around his hips, anchoring him to the bed. with a panicked yelp, you immediately retract your leg and leap out of the bed, frantically apologizing to him over and over again.

“i’m so sorry about that, d-did i hurt you?”

your voice sounds scratchy from your parched throat, but how you sound right now is the least of your concerns.

spencer chuckles softly before slowly sitting up. “no, you didn’t do anything.”

you let out a relieved sigh at his response.

spencer grunts as he lifts himself up, tenderly listening to your continued apologies with a warm smile.

“by the way,” he starts, fixing his tie and reaching for his suit jacket, “we're a little late.”

“what?” you gasp, hurriedly tucking your dress shirt into your trousers, “fuck. how late?”

a pause, and then: “five minutes and twenty seconds.”

“oh my god,” you squeal as you fling your and spencer’s bag over your shoulders, “they’re probably all waiting for us.”

quickly turning the doorknob and making way for spencer’s crutches to move past the door, you rush to the elevator and hit the juddering call button.

“next time, you’re-“ you cough out as you try to catch your breath, “-you’re welcome to just push me off the bed. it’s guaranteed to wake me up instantly.”

spencer looks at you questioningly, a small grin spreading across his lips. “next time?”

you clasp a hand over your mouth. “wait no, i meant – hopefully we’ll never have to sleep in a room together ever again, but i’m saying in case-“

spencer tilts his head and lets out an amused laugh. thankfully, the elevator doors open just in time, and you’re spared the trouble of having to explain yourself further.

you bite your lips as the image of his lopsided grin lingers in the back of your mind, and the fresh regret of your words burns your face like a hot fever.

the embarrassment doesn’t end, however, as the doors open once again to reveal your team standing right outside. when the elevator’s chime echoes throughout the lobby, everyone’s heads turn to you and spencer.

you walk out with nervous steps, grimacing when hotch merely nods and announces that the plane is ready for takeoff. spencer makes his way over to derek, who tousles his hair teasingly.

“so, how’d you sleep last night?”

you freeze when rossi’s husky voice drifts into your ears.

you force out a smile. “i definitely could’ve slept better.”

“really?” he hums with a smirk, “i slept like a baby.”

“yeah, you upgraded your room, we get it, you’re rich,” you sigh, eliciting a hearty chuckle from the older agent.

once seated in your usual seat on the jet, you’re accompanied by spencer and morgan, who slump into their seats across from you.

you watch suspiciously as morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you and nudges his elbow into spencer’s sides. “so, late night, huh?”

spencer looks at you briefly, flushed cheeks failing to suppress the smile splaying across his face. 

“shut up.”

[yawnderu]

Innocence Loss - König x Reader

Delayed Kinktober Day 3: Virginity loss - König x Reader

CW: Virginity loss, jealous König, rough sex, pussy eating, creampie, breeding kink if you squint.

"So wet for me, spatzi." König muttered softly, shaky fingers teasing your wet slit up and down, gathering your juices before his hand went back to his cock, soft groans escaping his lips as he used your own wetness to lube himself up. His mouth latched up to your cunt again, your whiny moans being rewarding enough as he worked up and down his long, veiny shaft.

"König... need you." You managed to speak between soft gasps and moans, the sensation of his long, flat tongue licking you up and down for the past 10 minutes was starting to become too much— he already made you cum twice, using the excuse that he needed you all wet so you could handle his big cock, yet in reality, he simply liked your taste. Like a starved man, König latched onto your clit, rubbing his cock so hard he already felt on edge.

"Beg for me." He said softly, his cockiness in the battlefield rubbing off on his regular life, yet surprisingly, he wasn't embarrassed about it.

"Please— fuck, I need you inside me. Please, baby?" Your pathetic begging went to his head, yet the look in his eyes betrayed just how much this man adored you. Messy hair, lips parted as you waited for him, a thin layer of sweat covering the body he was so enamored with, and your legs open, revealing the sweet cunt he craved so bad it hurt.

"Pretty girl." He muttered softly, pure affection on his voice as he joined you in bed, opening your legs even more to give his behemoth body enough space. He lined himself up to your cunt, gently pulling his foreskin down to rub the tip of his stupidly big dick up and down your wet entrance, slowly going in until he's bottoming out.

"Scheiße—" He grunted softly, voice going deeper as he grimaced under the mask. König was used to using his own calloused hand to cum, doing it only because he was bored and horny, which he grew out of the more years he spent in the military, yet the feeling of your tight, warm walls swallowing him up hungrily hit him like a tidal wave. You felt too damn good, and he had to resist the urge to cum already, not wanting to embarass himself.

"Are you okay?" He asked you gently, his hand slowly running up and down the length of your hair worriedly when he noticed the slight grimace on your face. König knew he was big in every single way, and his cock was not the exception.

"I'm good, just— move, please." Feeling the stretch of his massive shaft was just as painful as you imagined, yet the pleasure that came from it couldn't be denied. He builds up a pace, slowly going more and more intense as his thrusts get rougher, deeper, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills his private quarters, and you're secretly glad he's a colonel, as it gives you both more privacy.

"You've been bad, haven't you? Desperate for my cock, letting others flirt with you..." He mutters out between clenched teeth, his thrusts only getting rougher as he recalls what happened earlier. You didn't have the heart to tell him a member of KorTac simply was asking you for advice, the feeling of his tip slamming against your cervix was way too good to ruin the moment. He can believe whatever his jealous and possessive mind told him, as long as he keeps on angrily fucking you.

"No one else gets to touch you like this." He growls out, sitting on his knees while his massive hands easily hold onto your hips, lifting you up with him while he pounded into you, your moans mixed with his as he used you like you were simply a fleshlight— compared to his massive frame, you are.

König shows no mercy anymore, slamming his entire nine inches of meat into you with primal force. Despite the way he's being so rough, his light blue eyes are completely set into your face, looking for any signs of discomfort yet all he can see is pure bliss. His already big ego grows more and more as he hammers into you, all the pretty noises and faces you're making because of him, him and no one else, are getting to his head.

He moves your hips away as he pulls out, suddenly slamming himself all the way back in before you can protest. He drags a whiny moan out of you, pain and pleasure mixing as you can feel a familiar warmth building up in your stomach. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out pure nonsense in German. You can barely make out "Hure" between whatever he's whispering. His German sounds hotter than ever and you listen intently, dumbly nodding your head to his words despite not understanding him.

With each powerful thrust, he claims you, marking you as his own. The pleasure builds, coiling around your naked, sweaty bodies until it's way too much to bear. And when you finally release, his arms wrap around you protectively, holding your tiny body close to his as your bodies explode in a shared release. His thick, white cum fills up your womb, painting your velvety walls with his fertile sperm.

[pucksandpower]

Disturbing the Peace

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Max Verstappen x Vettel!Reader

Summary: an environmental activist disturbs the carefully constructed peace of Max’s life and turns his whole world on its head (or in which environmentalism and being a menace both run in the Vettel family)

Max strides across the tarmac towards his sleek private jet, ready to head up to the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes after a weekend of relaxation back home in Monaco. But he stops short as his eyes land on a cluster of protesters glued to the ground around his jet’s landing gear.

A gruff security guard approaches Max. “Sorry sir, we’ve got a bit of a situation here with these Greenpeace loons. They snuck past the perimeter and glued themselves down before we could stop them.”

Max scowls as he reads the words Fossil Fuels = Destruction scrawled across one of the protester’s shirts. He storms over, fists clenched at his sides.

“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?” he fumes, glaring at the seated activists. “You realize you’re costing me tens of thousands just by delaying my flight?”

“That’s kind of the point, bro,” one long-haired guy shoots back with a snide grin. “You’re one of the worst celebrity polluters on the planet.”

But Max’s gaze is drawn irresistibly to you — a beautiful young woman with fierce eyes and hair whipping around your face in the coastal wind. There’s an intensity and passion burning behind your stare that Max finds himself unexpectedly captivated by.

You rise gracefully to your feet, the only one not glued down, and take a step towards the fuming Formula 1 star. “Max Verstappen. Out of all celebrities last year, you were the 20th highest personal polluter. Even higher than Taylor Swift.”

There’s an unmistakable blend of reproach and attraction in your tone that throws Max off balance. He scoffs, trying to regain his bravado.

“What, are you stalking me or something? And I’m supposed to care what some random activist chick thinks?”

You level him with a pointed look. “Not some random chick. Y/N Vettel. Sebastian’s sister. And yes, you should care, because this is your planet too.”

Max blinks in surprise at the familiar surname, now recognizing the resemblance to his former competitor.

Oh fuck, not this girl.

He can’t resist giving you another once-over, taking in your lithe frame, the jut of your chin as you stare him down defiantly.

An amused smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. “Vettel, huh? I should’ve known. You two do have a thing for causing drama wherever you go.”

The dig lands but you don’t rise to the bait, shaking your head minutely. “This has nothing to do with drama, Max. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment before it’s too late to save it.”

“Oh, spare me the self-righteous preaching,” Max scoffs, reflexively going on the defensive even as a small part of him admires the conviction in your voice. “Like your jet-setting around to protest events is really doing the planet any favors.”

You raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Jet-setting? I take public transit everywhere. Planes are the exception for international events, and I always buy carbon offsets.”

Max feels a flicker of grudging respect at that before quickly stamping it down. He folds his arms across his chest, fixing you with a challenging stare. “Yeah? Well what about your clothes? I’m guessing that shirt was made from petroleum-based synthetic fabrics.”

A look of surprise crosses your face before you recover with a small shake of your head. “It’s actually bamboo. Petroleum-free and sustainably sourced.”

“Your shoes then,” Max presses, gaze dropping to the canvas flats on your feet.

You lift one demonstratively. “Recycled rubber.”

His eyes narrow as he struggles to find another example to poke holes in your lifestyle. You watch him search with ill-disguised amusement, finally taking pity.

“Listen Max, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Nobody is. The point is to keep trying to do better where we can.” Your eyes hold sincerity and — though Max is loath to admit it — wisdom beyond your years. “But you’re in a position of power. With all your money and influence, just think what you could do for sustainability initiatives. How many trees you could plant or clean energy projects you could fund with just a fraction of what you spend on private flights and gas-guzzling supercars every year.”

Max shifts, discomfited by the practicality of your words. It’s harder to be glib and dismissive when you’re not ranting incoherently about the planet dying, but making reasoned arguments. Especially with that intense, scrutinizing gaze fixed so squarely on him.

He clears his throat, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “Yeah, that’s cute and all. But then who would keep all those gas station attendants employed? I’m doing them a public service, really.”

The ghost of a smirk curves your lips in a way that makes Max’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “How very philanthropic of you.”

He has to look away from the spark of challenge and — yes, flirtation — in your expression. Max isn’t sure when this stopped being a confrontation and turned into some sort of tense back-and-forth bristling with inexplicable chemistry, but it’s rapidly becoming unnerving.

Seeming to sense you’ve flustered him, you lean in conspiratorially. “You know Max, for someone who acts like such an edgy bad boy, you’re not so tough. I think deep down you know I’m right.”

Max’s jaw ticks stubbornly even as his cheeks burn at your proximity, at the sweet floral scent of your shampoo drifting across the scant distance between you. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

In a daring move, you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. His breath hitches just slightly at the contact as you hold his gaze intently. “Then help me understand. Join me for dinner sometime and we can talk more about this over something other than just shouting at each other.”

The gentle touch, combined with the sincerity shining warmly through those big widened eyes, takes Max completely off guard. He opens his mouth, then closes it, abruptly unsure how to respond to such an olive branch extended from his vehement critic just moments ago.

Before he can formulate a reply, the wail of sirens pierces the air. A police cruiser pulls up as four officers jump out, advancing menacingly towards your compatriots still glued to the pavement.

“Alright, that’s enough here,” the barrel-chested sergeant barks gruffly. “You’re all under arrest for criminal trespassing and failure to obey airport security.”

You hurriedly step between the officers and your fellow protesters, palms raised placatingly. “Please officers, don’t arrest them! I was the one who orchestrated this, I’ll go quietly. Just let them go.”

Max’s heart does a strange little flutter at the selfless gesture, at the protective way you shield your group from the aggression of the snarling police officers.

Before he can think better of it, he’s striding forward and planting himself at your side, a steadying hand on your arm. “Actually officers, I’m afraid I can’t let you detain this woman.”

You blink up at him in surprise. The lead sergeant looks far from impressed, folding his beefy arms across his chest.

“And just who the hell are you to make that call?”

Max lifts his chin defiantly. “Max Verstappen. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear how the biggest name in racing got falsely arrested on the tarmac because one of their officers couldn’t exercise some restraint.”

The sergeant’s eyes widen almost comically and he takes an unconscious step back, disarmed by Max’s threat to leverage his fame and money. “Oh. Er … Mr. Verstappen, sir. I’m sure, um, we can sort this out ...”

Max cuts him off with an imperious wave, turning his attention fully to you. Your expression is a mixture of shock, curiosity, and — though Max certainly doesn’t dare name it — just maybe a tiny flicker of attraction in return.

“You asked me to try and understand your perspective. Fine, I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He looks you squarely in the eye, expression unreadable. “But you have to promise to hear me out too. No judgements, no protests. Just two people trying to figure out how to make the world better in their own ways.”

You stare searchingly at him for a prolonged moment. Then a slow, wondering smile spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes in the most disarmingly beautiful way. You give a small nod.

“Deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you do.”

Max finds himself returning the smile before he can stop himself. “Deal.”

He doesn’t know why this odd, passionate woman has gotten under his skin so quickly. Or why he suddenly cares what some environmental activist thinks of his choices. But as you take his proffered hand and he helps you step carefully away from the cluster of protestors, Max feels an unfamiliar stirring of hope. Maybe there’s more to this situation — and to you — than meets the eye.

The sergeant looks between you two skeptically, but seems to think better of pressing the issue further with Max’s steely gaze trained on him. With a resigned sigh, he waves his officers back.

“Alright, we’re going to let this one go. But I better not catch you trespassing and causing problems again, you hear?” He jabs a meaty finger at you in warning.

You just smile serenely, still not releasing Max’s hand. “No worries, officer. I have a dinner to get ready for.”

As the police pull away, you turn that brilliant grin on Max again. He finds himself returning it almost against his will, captivated by the fire that dances behind your eyes. For the first time, he wonders if going toe-to-toe with an idealistic environmental warrior might actually be worth momentarily putting his own deeply-held beliefs aside.

Stepping in close, you surprise him by leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Thanks for playing along back there. I owe you one, Max Verstappen.”

The warm breath tickling his neck sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. You pull back with a mischievous wink before turning and rejoining your fellow activists, hips swaying in a tantalizing way that has Max’s gaze lingering perhaps a moment too long.

As he watches you go, Max can’t shake the strangest sense that he’s suddenly entered uncharted territory. And that this is only the beginning of you continually barging into his life and turning everything deliciously upside down.

***

Max lets out a grunt as he heaves the heavy barbell up over his head, sweat beading on his brow from the intense weight training session. After securing the bar back on its rack, he straightens and grabs a towel to wipe his face.

His phone starts ringing from across the room, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Max debates letting it go to voicemail but finally relents with a resigned sigh, scooping up the device.

“Yeah, hello?”

There’s a brief silence before an automated voice responds. “This is a call from a corrections facility. To accept charges and connect this call, press 1.”

Max frowns, caught off guard. He presses 1 warily, curiosity getting the better of him. The line clicks and then a new, very familiar voice comes through.

“Max! Oh thank god you picked up.” It’s you, sounding mildly frazzled but still unmistakably your unique blend of passion and composure.

A surprised laugh escapes Max’s lips before he can stop it. “You? Calling me from jail? This I’ve got to hear.”

“Don’t sound so delighted,” you chide, though he can hear the smile in your voice. “Yes, I’m in a bit of a situation here. You remember the big event we had been planning to protest that oil baron’s ridiculous superyacht docking in Monaco?”

Max raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it. “The one where you said, and I quote, ‘No Max, you can’t come. Your pouty little rich boy face is just going to distract everyone from the real injustice we’re protesting here.’“

“... Yes, that one.” You don’t miss a beat. “Well, we may have taken things a step too far. The police showed up and arrested all of us for trespassing and disturbing the peace.”

“You don’t say?” Max leans back against the weight bench, a teasing lilt to his voice. “So let me get this straight — you got yourself chucked in the slammer for causing your signature environmentalist dramatics, and now you’re calling me to help get you out?”

There’s a slight pause before you respond, tone turning softer. “I didn’t want to call Seb. You know how he gets — he’ll just give me that disappointed head shake and lecture about being more responsible. Acting like I’m still a reckless teenager instead of a grown woman fighting for a noble cause.”

Max feels a small pang at the uncharacteristic wistfulness in your voice. For all your sparring back and forth, he knows how much your activist work means to you. And how tirelessly you dedicate yourself to it, often at the expense of other aspects of life.

Chewing his lip, he considers his next words carefully. “I may give you endless shit about being a tree-hugging rebel without a cause, but you know I actually respect what you’re doing, right? Even if your methods are … shall we say, dramatic.”

You let out a small surprised huff of laughter at that. “Did Max Verstappen just pay me something resembling a genuine compliment? Aww, you really do care.”

Max rolls his eyes at the teasing, though his lips quirk in a reluctant smile. Something about your back-and-forth banter has a way of putting him at ease in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still holding out hope this is just a pesky phase before you eventually come to your senses and realize the error of your ways.”

“Fat chance, hot shot.” The warm amusement in your tone is impossible to miss. “But anyway, since you’re in such a generous mood — think you can do me a favor and come bail me out?”

Max hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, bringing you home with me seems like a surefire way to get your activist cooties all over my ridiculously expensive non-vegan furniture.”

“Max ...” You let out an exaggerated whine that has him fighting back another grin. “Come on, I’m begging you here! I’ll be a model prisoner, I swear.”

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Max pushes off from the bench and starts grabbing his shoes and keys. “Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don’t you? I’ll be there in twenty minutes to ply your jailers with my generous pile of my money and spring you from the clink.”

You let out a squeal of delight that has his heart doing an odd little flip despite himself. “You’re the best, Max! Seriously, I owe you huge after this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to make a habit of it. This is a one-time kind of deal.”

The two of you say your brief goodbyes and Max hangs up, head shaking in bemusement. He’s not sure when his friendship with the passionate eco-warrior became so effortlessly comfortable, bantering back and forth like a long-married couple.

But he also can’t deny the way his pulse kicks up just slightly at the thought of seeing you again — windswept hair, fiery eyes, and that bright smile that still catches him off guard every time it’s directed his way.

As Max jogs out to the garage to grab his Ferrari for the short drive to the station, he vehemently tells himself it’s merely because he’s intrigued by the novelty of your clashing personalities. That your relentless conviction is a fascinating change of pace from the empty glamor that usually surrounds him.

But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’s lying to himself. That there’s something magnetically addictive about you and your tireless ability to see the world through a different lens than his own. Something that challenges him, stimulates him, reels him in over and over again no matter how much he pretends to resist.

He quickly banishes the thought, jaw setting in stubborn determination. Max Verstappen isn’t the type to get pulled into a girl’s orbit, no matter how intriguing she might seem on the surface. He’ll bail your reckless ass out of jail, have another enjoyable round of opposition-attracts banter, and then carry on with his usual life of racing and living by his own well-established rules.

Right?

The sleek crimson SF90 Stradale tears through the winding Monaco streets, wind whipping through Max’s hair as he pushes the pedal towards the floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins feels vaguely familiar to the thrill of a heated race — though he refuses to dwell too deeply on why bailing out an eco-terrorist gives him that same edge-of-the-seat excitement.

He pulls up to the modest local jail in record time, the guard at the entrance giving him a skeptical once-over before waving him through. No doubt recognizing the signature Ferrari and flashy persona of the championship-winning driver.

Max swaggers up to the front desk where a bored-looking officer sits shuffling through paperwork. The young man startles at his approach, shooting to attention with widened eyes.

“Oh! Mr. Verstappen, sir! How can I help you today?”

Puffing out his chest just slightly, Max gives the officer his most imposing stare. “Yeah, I’m here to post bail for one of your … residents. Y/N Vettel.”

The cop’s brow furrows as he scans the intake files. “Ah yes, here she is. Environmental activist, part of that big protest at the marina. Disturbing the peace, trespassing, and a few of them even got hit with property damage charges from graffiti.”

Max scowls, that damned protective streak rearing its ugly head again before he can stop it. “I’m only posting bail for Y/N Vettel. The hell did she get charged with?”

“Just peaceful trespassing and disturbing the peace.” The cop frowns contemplatively. “Well, and resisting arrest when she tried to stop us cuffing one of her friends. But that’s about it.”

Rubbing his temples with a pained sigh, Max can’t resist a rueful grin. “Yeah, that tracks. Listen, what’s it gonna cost me to grab her so I can get out of here?”

“For those charges? €1500 bond should cover it.”

Max scoffs at the paltry sum, already pulling out his monogrammed money clip and peeling off a stack of euros. “Whatever, here’s double. Keep the change for your trouble.”

The cop’s eyes widen almost comically, but he knows better than to question Max freaking Verstappen. Hurriedly taking the bills, he produces some paperwork for Max to sign and process the transaction.

“Alright Mr. Verstappen, just need your signature here and here. And if you’ll allow me to get your fingerprints as well for the release forms ...”

Max begrudgingly complies, wanting to get this circus over with as quickly as possible. He taps his foot impatiently as the officer takes his prints and finalizes everything in the computer system.

“Okay, all set. I’ll have one of the guards bring Miss Vettel around to the release lobby. Might be a few minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up,” Max mutters distractedly.

He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. Your voice rings in his ears, that unmistakable mixture of sheepishness and determination that seems to sum up your entire persona.

Goddamn it, why did you have to call him? Why couldn’t you have just phoned up your doting big brother like a normal person instead of dragging Max into this? Part of him wants to be annoyed at how easily you’re able to play him, batting those big eyes and pleading for his help like you knew he would give in.

But the thought of leaving you to stew in a dingy jail cell somehow makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Almost like he’d be letting you down in some weird, convoluted way. Ridiculous as the notion is, Max can’t deny this increasing pull you seem to have over him.

His eyes fly open as the door to the cellblocks finally opens, heavy footsteps approaching. Max takes an automatic step forward, pulse kicking up in anticipation despite himself.

And then you’re there. Hair tousled, t-shirt and jeans covered in smears of dirt and grass stains from the protest scuffle. But those defiant eyes are still ablaze, jaw set stubbornly as the guard leads you out in handcuffs.

“Max! You’re actually here!” Your face splits into a bright, surprised grin at the sight of him.

He tries and fails to suppress his own answering smile, raking an admittedly appreciative gaze over you from head to toe. “What, you didn’t think I’d show up for my favorite little jailbird?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash him a sly look from under your lashes. “I don’t know, I had my doubts Mr. Bigshot Racer would sully his palms rescuing little old me.”

“Well, you know what they say.” Max steps in close, dropping his voice to a faux-seductive murmur as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen infinitesimally but you hold his gaze, seemingly transfixed. “I just can’t seem to quit you.”

You bite your lip in a badly suppressed grin at his corny line. “Did you seriously just incorrectly quote Brokeback Mountain at me right now?”

“Maybe.” He rocks back on his heels with a shameless wink. “Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”

A delicate blush blooms across your cheeks in a way that has Max’s heart stuttering unexpectedly. The guard clears his throat loudly, shattering the moment between you.

“Erm, right. If you’ll just sign here for Miss Vettel’s release ...” He offers a clipboard to Max.

Tearing his eyes away from you with concentrated effort, Max scrawls his signature across the form. You watch him intently, an unreadable look flickering across your features for just a moment before the guard undoes your cuffs with a loud click.

You immediately bring your newly freed hands together, rubbing at the chafed skin of your wrists gingerly. Max’s jaw tightens at the sight.

“You good?” His tone is gruff with concern despite himself.

Glancing up, you give him a reassuring smile and nod. “All good, just a little tender. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Something about your easy dismissal of the discomfort rankles Max in a way he can’t fully explain. Like he wants to grab your hands, bring them to his lips to inspect the damage more closely. The sudden urge catches him off guard and he quickly tamps it down, fists clenching at his sides.

The guard seems oblivious to the undercurrent between you, simply giving a curt nod and motioning towards the exit. “Right then, off you go. And try to stay out of trouble from now on, Miss Vettel.”

You shoot the cop your signature wry grin. “No promises, officer.”

Rolling his eyes skyward, Max grabs your elbow lightly and ushers you towards the doors before you can cause any more scenes. You fall into step beside him easily, shoulders brushing in a way that has his skin tingling with awareness.

As the two of you step out into the late afternoon sunlight, you turn to him with those warm eyes that never fail to set his heart racing just a little faster.

“I really do owe you one, Max. Thank you for coming to my rescue, even after everything“

He gives an exaggerated huff, fighting a smile. “Well, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta bail out all the reckless idiots who can’t stay out of handcuffs for five minutes.”

You laugh brightly, punching his arm in playful admonishment. A spark of electricity seems to jolt between you at the contact and Max freezes almost imperceptibly, mesmerized by the radiant smile you’re beaming up at him.

In that moment, with the sunlight catching in your hair and reflecting those fierce, captivating eyes, Max is struck by how breathtakingly beautiful you are. Not just physically, though that’s certainly undeniable. But the whole intoxicating aura of your idealism, your passion, your relentless fighting spirit that leaves him in a constant state of incredulous attraction no matter how much he rails against it.

You cock your head slightly, drawing him out of his reverie. “Max? You still in there?”

“Huh?” He blinks dazedly before recovering with a shake of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets in what he desperately hopes is a casual gesture. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”

Your brow furrows in concern as you study his face intently. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Max clears his throat, avoiding your piercing gaze. He nods jerkily towards the car glinting fetchingly in the sun. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to re-arrest your ass for loitering.”

As the two of you make your way across the parking lot, Max resolutely ignores the persistent voice whispering that he’s in deeper than he’s willing to admit this time. That you might just be addictive enough to become something he can’t simply shake off when he’s had his fill.

But rather than finding the notion disconcerting like it should be, he finds himself fighting the strangest flicker of excitement at the prospect instead.

***

The Monaco paddock is a dizzying whirlwind of activity as teams and personnel rush about in their usual pre-race frenzy. Max weaves through the chaos towards his driver room, helmet tucked under his arm.

He pauses as a familiar voice reaches his ears — that unmistakable passionate cadence that always has a way of stopping him in his tracks these days. Max turns to see you holding court in the middle of a cluster of wide-eyed engineers and PR reps, gesticulating emphatically.

“... and that’s just the start! We also need to look into renewable energy sources to power the entire paddock operations. Sustainable cooking practices in the hospitality suites. Comprehensive recycling and composting initiatives. Not to mention overhauling the travel logistics for a lower carbon footprint when we’re shipping this whole circus around the globe every other week.”

One of the hapless reps looks shellshocked, struggling to keep up as he scribbles notes furiously. “I … yes, of course, Miss Vettel. We’ll look into all of that right away. Anything else?”

You fix the poor man with one of your signature intense stares, full lower lip catching between your teeth as you consider. Max feels his heart skip at the seemingly insignificant gesture, cursing under his breath.

“Well, we haven’t even touched on sustainable sourcing for uniforms and merchandising yet. Or the complete overhaul needed for fuel compositions and racing technology to align with a realistic net-zero roadmap.” Your eyes spark with renewed fervor. “But we can circle back on those aspects later. For now I want you to-”

Sensing an opening, the bewildered rep seizes his chance to politely extricate himself. “You know what, Miss Vettel? Why don’t I go gather all my notes on your suggestions so far and we can regroup for a more structured meeting on next steps? I’ll, uh, be in touch!”

He scampers off before you can protest, leaving the rest of the staffers gaping at you with a combination of terror and admiration. You just shake your head bemusedly, rolling your eyes skyward as you catch sight of Max watching from across the way.

“What?” You shrug innocently at his raised eyebrow, the very picture of angelic nonchalance. “Someone’s got to light a fire under these people if we want to actually get some sustainability practices in place.”

Max bites back a grin, sauntering over with exaggerated slowness. “Is that what you call demolishing that poor rep’s entire understanding of the world? Just lighting a fire?”

“Hey, we’re not being paid to settle for complacency and half-measures,” you shoot back without a shred of remorse. “I got hired to shake this whole damn organization to its core until it goes fully carbon neutral. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Your unapologetic defiance never fails to send a peculiar thrill zinging through Max’s veins. He rakes an admittedly assessing gaze over your crisp pantsuit and loosely swept updo — quite a change from the scruffy activist’s getup he’s so used to seeing you in.

“You clean up nice, I’ll give you that,” he muses teasingly. “Who knew you could look so respectable in professional garb?”

Rather than rise to the bait, you simply flash him a wink and smoothing your hands over the fitted blazer, drawing his gaze helplessly to the enticing curves beneath the tailored lines. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

Heat prickles at the base of Max’s neck at the unexpected flirtiness, his tongue suddenly thick and useless in his mouth. He quickly masks the moment of flustered silence with a dismissive scoff.

“Great, so in addition to harassing race staff you’re assaulting my senses too? Good to know where your priorities lie, Vettel.”

You laugh easily, canting a hip as you fix him with those dancing eyes that never fail to set his heart racing. “If you can’t handle a little playful banter, Verstappen, you’d better get used to keeping your distance now that we’re colleagues for the foreseeable future.”

The words slam into Max with surprising force, hitting a little too close to the bone. Unconsciously, his gaze darts over you in a way that feels far too intimate for mere colleagues. Lingering on the delicate curve of your neck as you tip your head back, the lush pout of your lips, the swaying tendrils of hair escaping your updo which he inexplicably longs to brush back into place.

All at once the reality of your new role truly sinks in — that he’ll be seeing you at every single race from now until god knows when. The thought fills Max with a dizzying blend of elation and trepidation.

On one hand, the prospect of having you perpetually woven through his life in this shiny new professional capacity is enough to make his pulse kick up in giddy anticipation.

But on the other, it terrifies him to his core. You have an uncanny ability to constantly keep him off-balance, as endlessly fascinating as you are maddening. This casual flirtation between you has taken on undercurrents he’s no longer certain he wants to shy away from acknowledging. At least, not when the thought of shutting it down fills Max with a hollow ache he can’t put words to.

He’s pulled from his spiraling reflections as an impeccably dressed older man in a crisp suit materializes at your side, placing a wizened hand on your shoulder.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Vettel! I was just coming to fetch you for our preliminary sustainability council meeting with the rest of the advisory board.” The man’s eyes twinkle with unmistakable approval as he regards you. “Although from the looks of it you’ve already started getting the lay of the land around here and, ah, asserting your new directives shall we say?”

You shoot him a conspiratorial grin, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Let’s just say I’ve had a productive first day on the job so far, Mr. Haywood. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Max recognizes the man as Stephen Haywood, one of the senior F1 board members and the person primarily responsible for bringing you on in this ground-breaking new eco initiative. He chuckles indulgently at your quip.

“That’s exactly what we’re counting on from you, my dear. Ruffling some feathers and dragging this whole operation into the future, come hell or high water. I have the utmost confidence you’re going to revolutionize Formula 1 in ways we can’t even conceive yet.”

You beam at the praise, visibly swelling with determination. Haywood gives your shoulder another squeeze before gesturing down the paddock. “Shall we? We’ve got a long agenda ahead to tackle your big plans.”

“Absolutely,” you say eagerly, turning to follow him. But not before pausing to shoot Max one last heated look from over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a sultry murmur. “Don’t go too far, Verstappen. I’ve still got plenty more to say to you later.”

And with a tantalizing wink, you sashay away after Haywood in that maddeningly hypnotic way that you know reduces Max to an incoherent mess every time. All he can do is gape after your retreating figure, the sway of those hips in that perfectly tailored skirt rendering him utterly useless.

As you disappear around the corner, Max feels the dam inside him finally burst in a torrential flood of overwhelming emotion. Everything suddenly clicks into startling clarity in one shuddering epiphany that leaves him unmoored:

He’s in love with you.

Desperately, all-consumingly, recklessly in love in a way he never saw coming and is wholly unprepared to process. All those months pretending you were just an amusing diversion, a source of intrigue and refreshing friction in his otherwise orderly life. All the times he battled against the obvious chemistry simmering between you, tried to downplay it as mere physical attraction between opposing forces.

But now it washes over Max in one shattering wave of truth — the way his world tilts off-axis whenever you’re around, the gravity of your presence drawing him in against his will. How thoroughly and irrevocably you’ve embedded yourself under his skin without him ever truly realizing it was happening until now.

He grips the wall for support, legs feeling abruptly unsteady as his head spins. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation? That his heart now lies so completely in the hands of this fierce, untamable woman utterly hellbent on dismantling and revolutionizing his entire life’s work in the name of environmentalism.

The delicious contradictions of having fallen for someone whose core values and purpose seem to exist in such direct opposition to his own are enough to make Max’s head throb dizzily. You are his antithesis in so many ways — that headstrong passion a perpetual thorn in his side, continually pushing and prodding him out of his self-imposed boundaries.

And yet … he couldn’t be more completely enthralled.

It’s that relentless challenging of his beliefs, that refusal to settle for complacency, that has drawn Max in and held him captivated against his will from the very beginning. In you he’s found a riveting counterpoint to the blinkered single-mindedness of his existence, a refreshing perspective that somehow makes him want to be a bigger, better version of himself.

Even now, just the phantom echo of your parting words has him straightening unconsciously, feeling almost chastened and bereft in the wake of your absence. Max has never been one to dwell on his emotions, preferring to analyze and compartmentalize until they’re boxed away into neat, manageable parcels.

But this all-encompassing feeling storming through him in your wake is anything but neat or manageable. It’s wild and catastrophic, crackling with the dangerous intensity of a lightning strike clawing its way across the horizon in slow motion.

Just the thought of looking into those blazing eyes and owning the truth of his feelings for you sends Max into a panic, chest squeezing with anxious breath. You have always seen through his feigned nonchalance, cut straight through to the bone with that penetrating stare. He has no idea how to even begin existing openly in the same space as you without his heart shining through brazenly for the entire world to witness.

His fist clenches against the cold metal of the garage wall as an irrational surge of bitterness lances through him. How dare you just sweep into his rigidly controlled life with all that blistering confidence and conviction, making him feel things he never wanted to feel? Upending his carefully maintained reality without a second thought, all in the name of your damned causes?

You weren’t supposed to get this far under his skin. He was just supposed to have a bit of fun, indulge in your company as a momentary diversion at most. And now Max is in so disastrously deep that he has no idea how to drag himself back out.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there warring with himself, torn between exhilarated possibility and vehement denial. What he does know is that his entire world has been turned upside down. And despite the terror rattling his bones, despite the desperate urge to somehow ignore the sheer enormity of this jolt to his system … he can’t muster the will to try and wrestle back control.

Not when the thrill of finally surrendering to you sends such intoxicating electricity crackling through every fiber of his being.

Max peels himself from the wall with renewed resolve, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to steel himself, because avoiding you is clearly no longer an option. Not when your irresistible pull is only amplified now that you’ll be a near-permanent fixture in his life.

He has to face this head-on, confront the exhilarating chaos you’ve wrought in his carefully cultivated existence. Which means pushing down the churning jumble of emotions rattling around in his ribcage before they become too overwhelming.

“Get a grip, man,” Max mutters sternly to himself, knocking the heel of his palm against his temple as if to physically dislodge his internal storm. “It’s just Vettel. You’ve dealt with her shit-stirring antics a million times before. You can handle this new ... development.”

His words carry neither confidence nor conviction, but Max forges on anyway, straightening his shoulders as he plunges back into the fray of the paddock. If he can just maintain some semblance of outward equilibrium, he can get through this.

One foot in front of the other, he winds past the crowd towards his driver’s room as if in a trance. Any minute now, you’ll saunter back through in that mouthwateringly crisp ensemble, eyes bright with hard-won strategy and single minded intent.

And Max will just … what? Calmly confront you as if his entire understanding of your dynamic hasn’t undergone a seismic fucking shift in the last five minutes?

He barks out a mirthless laugh at the impossibility of such a scenario. Any pretense of indifference has surely been shattered between you now. All his meager attempts at deflecting through banter and heated bickering ring hollow to his own ears after this shattering realization.

No, for better or worse, Max has finally tumbled over that precipice he’d been teetering on for so long when it comes to you. Now more than ever before, he dreads and craves the prospect of your next meeting in equal, searing measure.

Because whether he’s ready or not … whether he thinks he can handle the fallout or not … you’ll be able to read every devastating truth written across his face this time.

When your paths inevitably cross again, Max knows there will be no more hiding from you the shift of feelings you’ve unleashed within him.

This time, he’ll be entirely and terrifyingly laid bare.

***

Three Years Later

The crisp mountain air fills Max’s lungs as he straightens up, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile. The freshly tilled soil stretches before him in neat rows, ready and waiting to nurture the seeds you meticulously selected.

“Nice work, Mein Löwe,” you call approvingly from across the yard, one hand resting on the swell of your pregnant belly. “That plot is going to be perfect for all our veggies.”

Max’s chest warms at the undisguised pride in your voice as you survey his handiwork. Just a few years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of voluntarily getting his hands dirty like this. But ever since that fateful day at the airport … everything has changed.

“Yeah, well, be sure to put me to work weeding and watering too,” he shoots back with an easy grin. “Gotta earn my keep as the cabana boy around here.”

You roll your eyes in playful exasperation even as an affectionate smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll be sure to get you a tiny little outfit.”

The teasing remark might have once pricked Max’s fragile ego. But now he simply shakes his head with a low chuckle, marveling at how natural, how right it feels to be the subject of your gentle ribbing. In the years since that first charged encounter, your barbs have sanded down his prickly edges until only his core of wry tenderness remains.

You cross the yard toward him, sunlight glinting off the tousled tendrils of hair that frame your face. Up close, Max can make out the dark crescent smudges under your eyes from many sleepless nights spent mapping out plans for this property — from the aerogel insulation in the walls to the extensive geothermal heating system to the solar panels spanning the roof.

Most people would have long ago surrendered in exhaustion when presented with building the world’s most environmentally sustainable home from the ground up. But not you. You had steadfastly urged him onward, determined to make this place a paragon of renewable living for your growing family.

His growing family, Max mentally corrects himself with a jolt of surprise that still hasn’t faded, even after all this time.

As if reading his mind, you pause before him, gently taking his calloused hands in yours. “Think you can handle planting all those seedlings tomorrow without me? The back pains are really kicking my ass lately.”

Max’s lips quirk upwards at the feisty lilt to your voice. “Getting a little too old to be bending over in the dirt for hours, liefje?”

“Hey, watch it!” You protest with a laugh, playfully batting at his chest. “I’m literally growing an entire human here. Maybe have some sympathy for your poor wife?”

“Alright, alright,” Max chuckles, sliding his hands reverently over the swollen curve of your belly. A sense of awe washes over him, just as it does each time he’s reminded of the incredible miracle blooming inside you — a tiny life that is half him, half this fierce, passionate woman he once couldn’t stand.

He leans in to press his forehead tenderly to yours. “I’ve got it all covered tomorrow. Why don’t you take it easy for once?”

You let out a derisive snort at the suggestion. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Maybe if you massage my back tonight, though ...”

“Deal,” Max murmurs without hesitation, tilting his head to steal a lingering kiss.

Your lips are soft and pliant against his, still electrifying even after all this time. Max marvels yet again at this strange, thrilling new world you’ve ushered him into — one of quiet moments and domesticity and fulfillment. A world that his former self, obsessed with roaring engines and adrenaline, could have never envisioned.

But even as your mouths move in that timeless, familiar dance, Max’s mind drifts back to that fateful first encounter outside his jet all those years ago. The sheer force of your convictions had rocked him to his core then, cracking open the crusty shell around his heart. And before he could blink, you had blossomed into so much more than an impassioned activist — a friend, a confidante, a lover … and now the mother of his unborn child.

At last, you pull away with a contented sigh, cradling Max’s face in your tender palms. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”

“Once or twice,” he teases gruffly, though his chest clenches with an all too familiar ardor. “But you know I never get tired of hearing it, schatje.”

You beam up at him with utter adoration shining in your eyes. A look that never fails to disarm Max straight to his core. How had it taken so many years of chasing empty accolades for him to finally find this all-encompassing serenity?

“I just ...” You pause, worrying your full lower lip between your teeth. A sure sign you’re struggling to untangle an emotion webbed with complexity. “I never imagined I could be this … content.”

Your gaze drifts wistfully across the sweeping valley before your mountainside property, the majestic peaks dusted with snow on the horizon. For a beat, Max envisions it all through your eyes — the staggering beauty of this utopia you’ve carved out for your budding family, its self-sustaining existence treading as lightly on the earth as possible.

“After so many years fighting and railing against the system, to find this pocket of peace ...” You shake your head slowly, almost deliriously. “It’s more than I could have dreamed.”

Inexplicably, Max feels his eyes prickling with a sudden thickness at your reverent murmur. A lump forms in his throat, welling with all the indescribable gratitude and tenderness that still threatens to overwhelm him at times like this.

“You know,” he rasps out at last, tracing his thumb reverently over the sharp line of your jaw. “After that day at the airport in Nice … I tried so hard to shake the way you made me feel.”

A wistful smile plays across your lips at the memory as your eyes meet his in silent invitation. You’re hanging on his every word now — a state Max still struggles to wrap his mind around at times.

“No matter what I did, or where I traveled, part of me couldn’t escape your voice in my head,” Max continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “Demanding that I question my way of life, open my eyes to how careless I had been.”

You nod slowly in recognition, lacing your fingers through his. The remembered combativeness from that long ago confrontation has faded now, giving way only to understanding between the two people who recognize each other most profoundly.

“At first, I just tried blocking you out,” Max admits with a rueful chuckle. He dips his head until your foreheads are brushing again as his voice lowers to an intimate rasp. “But the more I pushed you away, the deeper you burrowed inside me. Until I finally stopped fighting it and just … listened.”

He feels your sharp inhale as his words skate warmth down your skin. Slowly, almost unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his in solidarity.

“And look at us now,” you murmur at last, awestruck and achingly tender all at once.

In your eyes, Max glimpses the past, present and future stretching out in dizzying symmetry — those first fierce sparks of passion blossoming into the steadfast love that shelters your growing family. He sees the painstaking nurturing required to transform a confrontation into a partnership over years of effort and understanding.

Most of all, he sees the promise of new dawns yet to come, with each one awakening to your cherished, reverent teachings about the earth’s splendor and fragility.

His heart clenches fit to burst as Max drinks in your beauty — flushed and glowing with new life, still beaming with that incandescent fire that had first seared into his soul. Only now, it burns only for him, a flame stoking devotion and passion and sanctuary.

Just as Max leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, the shrill chime of the doorbell shatters the moment. You spring apart with a breathless laugh.

“Fuck, I forgot Seb was supposed to be coming over today!” You give Max’s chest one last pat before turning toward the house, waddling slightly with the added weight of your pregnant belly.

Max grins fondly, trailing after you at a more leisurely pace. He can’t resist one last admiring glance over his shoulder at the pristine vegetable garden stretching behind the cottage — an oasis of sustainable beauty, just like the life you’ve created here.

As you reach the front door, pulling it open eagerly, Sebastian’s familiar lopsided grin greets you both from the other side. Your brother’s eyes immediately zero in on your rounded midsection, his expression melting into one of pure adoration.

“Oh, Bärchen, you’re positively glowing!” He exclaims, sweeping you into a gentle hug. “How’s my little niece or nephew treating their mom?”

You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back to shoot Max an exaggerated look of suffering. “This kid’s already high maintenance, just like their father. I’ve got swollen ankles, back pains, you name it.”

“Hey now,” Max interjects with a chuckle, sidling up to join the familiar banter. He claps Sebastian’s shoulder affectionately. “If they end up being anything like you in the baby stage, we’re in for a whole new world of sleep deprivation.”

Sebastian returns the grin, unfazed. “Like you aren’t an even bigger handful than me.”

You snort indelicately, looping your arm through Max’s as you shuffle back to allow Sebastian inside. “Are you kidding? With my influence, this baby will be an expert environmentalist before they’re out of diapers.”

“You wish,” Max shoots back with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knows better than anyone the depth of your convictions — and appreciates them more than he can put words to.

As the three of you bicker playfully, Max’s chest fills with an overwhelming sense of contentment. Just a few years ago, he could have scarcely imagined this scenario — the love of his life heavy with his child, her doting brother at their side, their sprawling eco-paradise as the idyllic backdrop.

But now, as he guides you both into the spacious, sunlit living room, Max knows without a doubt that this is exactly where he belongs.

Here, sheltered in the passionate wake of your ceaseless quest to better the world. Here, in the eye of the storm you had first raged into his life, upending everything until his soul had no choice but to still and listen.

You shoot him a private smile, reading his thoughts as easily as breathing. In your bright eyes, Max sees the future stretching out blissfully — a path paved by your determined heart that he will gladly tread in partnership forever.

All because on one fateful day, you had dared to make him question everything. And in doing so, unveiled the peace and purpose he never knew he craved.

[shuastar]

Hey,can you write something about scoups one night stand ?

a/n: tumblr deleted everything i wrote so now im starting from scratch!! sorry about the delay finals and all.... i hate quarter systems with a passion

tumblr runs on a system of reblogs!! reblog/like/comment!! i <3 interacting

warnings: mdni, rich!seungcheol (implied), rich!reader (implied), lawyer!reader, virgin!reader (implied, kinda), daddy kink, multiple orgasms (implied), innocence kink (kinda implied), NSFW, wrap it before you tap it!!! (even though seungcheol doesn't!!!)

one night stand!seungcheol swears he doesn't usually do this -- get so drunken off someone's scent that he needs them viciously. he swears he's not the type -- and he isn't. he prefers a longer relationship, with commitments and sensual sex -- bed frame rocking gently against the hardwood floor of his penthouse, curtains of the giant windows set on do not disturb, the soft glow of his "sexy" yellow lights glowing against your skin. he swears that's the reason -- the reason his hands start to sweat, just a bit, when you step closer.

one night stand!seungcheol doesn't know how this happened. you were his best friend's sister. his fucking best friend's sister. you were supposed to be young, naive, innocent, kind, anything but the woman he was seeing in front of his eyes. anything but the woman with the low-cut dress and the elegant updo and the gorgeous, gorgeous smile that adorned your lipstick-painted lips.

one night stand!seungcheol remembers when you would drag his (shit-faced) best friend into your small studio apartment, throwing him on the pull-out bed. he remembers standing in the doorway, cheeks dusted a light red (from the cold, he told himself). he remembers you in a old oversized k-pop t-shirt and a random guy's boxers (he couldn't think about that for too long, lest he completely lost his shit), hair pulled back in a messy bun with glasses crooked on the bridge of your nose. he remembers your tired smile and dark eyebags as you half-heartedly invited him to also stay the night with a dry laugh. "aren't you too drink to be driving?" you would ask. he would shake his head no. he only had two drinks. it was mingyu that was out after his 12th soju-vodka-cranberry juice shot. "i'm fine. how're you holding up?" he tried to act nonchalant as he spied the law textbooks sprawled on the floor, disrupted by mingyu's loud movements. you gestured to the room. "as good as it'll get, i guess. wish mingyu could stop forgetting his own keys and coming to my place," you grumbled. seungcheol didn't have the heart to tell you that he secretly stole mingyu's keys because this would be the only way he could see your gorgeous tired face.

one night stand!seungcheol is in denial. he doesn't have time for this shit. he hasn't gone on a proper date in two years because all the girls he meets can't top his own work. being a ceo isn't a walk in the park. he has calls to answer and papers to sign and money to donate. he can't keep up a real relationship because every time he goes on a date, the woman leaves in the first thirty minutes and after he comes back from a five minute work call, the only thing he sees is the back of someone's dress. so why does your smile make his throat close up all of a sudden?

one night stand!seungcheol twitches, almost unconsciously when your fingers graze his biceps. your soft laughter fills his ears and your dizzying perfume (creed eau de parfum) fills the rest of his senses deliciously. he could eat you up. (metaphorically, of course). When you look up from your phone and see him across from you, your eyes crinkle and your lips lift in a smile. you and your senior prosecutor position in some law firm (he should know from many times mingyu's mentioned it, but he was too busy scrolling through your instagram posts). you and your twinkling eyes, gazing up at him like you knew exactly what he was thinking.

one night stand!seungcheol feels like a virgin around you. he's had sex before, he swears. but his knees buckle when the first of your begs leave your lips. you beg. you beg. you beg with doe-eyes, filled with unshed tears of frustration. you beg with pouted lips and if he had any less self control, he would have already kissed it off of you. "pplease?" you whisper, hands wrapping around his broad shoulders. you lay your head against his chest and he can feel your hot breaths fan over his pecs. "seungcheol, please? for me?" you beg, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. you were seducing him. and it was not working. you were his best friend's sister.

one night stand!seungcheol can't help but pull away, for a split second. "y'know i can't," he groans, as he sees your teary eyes and pouty lips, lipstick smudged at the corners from your makeout session only minutes prior. "fuck, don't look at me like that, baby," he rasps, arms wrapping around your silken waist. his hands squeeze at your hips, before creeping upwards towards your dress's falling neckline. "why?" you whine, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. he feels hot -- even with his belt unbuckled, shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up dangerously high. your warm body tempts him so much -- the way you press yourself against him, the way you whine against his skin, the way you grasp for his attention. such a virgin, is his first thought. his perverted dangerous thought.

one night stand!seungcheol has to give in. it's you, for gods sake. how can he say no when you're sucking blues and purples against his neck? your hand roams the expanse of his muscled back, a breathy moan here-and-there as he gropes and sucks on your breasts, now free from the confines of your corsetted bodice. he's so addicted. he doesn't even have enough control to stop his hips bucking up against your fleeting touch. your other hand trails down and down -- down his chest, abs, stopping at the straining tent in his business slacks. your soft touches that scatter around his throbbing cock because you don't know.

one night stand!seungcheol curls into you when you finally take him out of his pants. "fuck, just like that," he groans into your ear, as your fingers wrap around his red-tipped cock, tip dribbling pearl precum into your hands. both of your clothes sit discarded on the floor, and you lay your head against his leg as your hands work their magic on his jupming length. one hand rests gently on your head, the other fisting your white hotel room bed sheets with a foreign ferocity. he's never seen you as anythign else but innocent, pure, perfect. but now, the only thought that float around his mind are perverted and horribly dangerous -- breedable, fuckable, devourable.

one night stand!seungcheol has to stop you in the middle of the best handjob because he doesn't want to cum on your face in five minutes flat. "fuck. c'mere, baby," he mumbles, easily lifting you off of your knees and into his lap, placing you gently on his thighs. his hand brushes stray pieces of hair stuck to your face away. he needs to see you. see your expression, your eyes, your pretty face. "you good?" he asks, just in case. just in case you were in a drunken stupor -- cock drunken stupor. just in case you weren't on the same page. just in case- "oppa," you moan gently, hips canting into his. your bare pussy rubs up against his cock and his grip on your waist tightens exponentially. "seungcheol oppa," you gasp as the tip of his length pokes and probs against your puffy clit, hungry for attention. "please. please, please, please. need it. wan' it. been wanting it. ever since-" you cut yourself off with a gasp as two of seungcheol's fingers swipe against your messy core, dripping with want for him. all of him.

one night stand!seungcheol needs to forcefully hold himself back. he needs to, or else he's afraid he'll rip your pussy open, because his cock isn't even halfway in and there are tears falling from your precious eyes. he mentally slaps himself at the way his cock hardens even more at the sight. "y' okay?" he grunts, biceps straining, breath coming out in pants at the tight grip of your pussy. you won't let up. "hurts," you cry, burying your head into his arms. "won't fit, oppa. can't- how- too big," you gasp as he pushes just a little bit more in. he needs to because it feels like you're cutting off his circulation, makign his brain fuzzy and shit.

one night stand!seungcheol rolls his hips into your experimentally. he's not ready for the pornographic moan of pleasure that escapes your opened lips. you're gone. already. you're gone and he knows because there are tears lining your waterline, your kiss-bitten lips are parted ever-so-slightly, your nails scratch down his back desperately, and your legs shake from their purchase around his waist. "y/n, fuck. fuck, y' feel s'good. so g-good for me. just f'me, yeah?" he mumbles in your ear, like you can hear him through your own tumbling moans. every sharp thrust he gives you feels like you can feel his cock in your ribs. none of you toys could compare. if anything, as soon as you got home, every single one of them was going into the trash. seungcheol's deft fingers crawl in between your bodies and rub small circles against your clit. "ah!" your hips buck uncontrollably and seungcheol groans as his hands pin your tratorious hips to the bed. a shaky laugh escapes his throat. "feel good, baby? tha' feel good f'you?" his fingers rub again, and you feel tingly -- like something was building up in your body. you can't help but writhe in his grasp, nails streaking red down his back. "fuck! oh my- oh- holy- da-" you cut yourself off with a muffled shriek as seungcheol pounds into you, fingers furious on your deprieved bud. your tears finally fall. down and down your cheeks. "shit, shit, shit," you moan and gasp, toes curling at this foreign feeling of pleasure. if you knew sex was this good you would've hooked up sooner.

one night stand!seungcheol's hips falter at your next words. "fuck, daddy, fuck me," you moan, throwing your head back against the pillows and your back arching so sexy off the bed. his arms wrap around your waist almost automatically. his hips cant into yours like on autopliot and the only thing that falters is his breath. you moan out a few more profanities, daddy being one of them. he can't believe his ears. you. calling him daddy. the thought of it alone sends another rush of arousal to his cock. and apparently that proved to be the breaking point of him because he lets out his loudest moan, catching himself before he falls on top of you, hips loosing their rhythm as he chases his high. "oh my g-god," he gasps, hands cupping your jaw. you're no better. "wanna cum, daddy," you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck. "wanna cum so bad, please, please, please. please let me cum -- wan' it. wan' yours. daddy, daddy, daddy..." you moan out the words like a fucking mantra. and he's on his breaking point. you cannot be real. you feel like a character out of his perverted fairy tale. "fuck, wan' my cum, princess?" he moans back. he has no idea what he's saying at this point. he's talking with his dick. 100%. "take it" he grunts, fingers desperate to bring you to your high before his last straw finally snaps. "fuckin' cum, baby. fuckin' cum and take mine like a good girl, yeah?" a couple more stuttered thrusts and he has you convulsing, almost not breathing, on the sheets, body tensing as you reach your third orgasm, shaking and moaning like a fucking porn star.

one night stand!seungcheol lets out a jumble of curse words as he goes right after you, body jerking as he empties out his creamy cum inside your pussy. his body falls on yours, the smell of sex and cologne wrapping around your spent form. he stays like that until you sniffle, hand going up to wipe at your eyes. "fuck, you okay?" he pushes off of you, sitting up to gently scan you for possible injuries. you let out a small laugh of disbelief, a smile curving itself into your lips. "m' fine. jus' sore. a little." you mumble, shying away from his gaze. a deep blush coats your cheeks as you look around for something to cover yourself with. seungcheol pulls you towards him, scooping you into his arms. "where you goin' huh?" his voice rumbles in his chest as he gives you a lopsided grin. "can't let my princess go off alone like this." you groan in embaressment. "i didn't mean to call you..." you trail off "...daddy," you whisper, burying your face in your hands as seunghcheol brings you to the bathroom, turning on the bath water.

one night stand!seungcheol can't help but stare at your sleeping face, gently caressing your jaw, arms, hips, waist, everything. he can't help but wonder what would have happened if he had just dated you to start with. his heart almost stops in its tracks when you turn towards him and inches closer, snuggling into his beefy embrace.

one night stand!seungcheol and you have to face the consequences of the night: your brother. but as your brother yells and pulls at his hair and blaches and walks into a glass wall, you and seungcheol stare at eachother, giddy lovesick smiles painted on your faces.

[phant0mth1ef]

band bakugou x band reader au headcanons!

- obviously the drummer, and he had a consistent bad habit of breaking his sticks when he would get frustrated or kept messing up during practice.

- secretly loved when his fans would scream his name at concerts but had to put up the bad boy persona.

- his jeans were definitely four sizes too big and were always ripped at the bottom from him consistently stepping on them throughout the day.

- didn’t have any sort of social medias, honestly he was just really a loser who happened to play drums for a super popular band.

- when you came in as a bassist, he didn’t think he’d get along with you at all despite the fact that you were friendly with everyone.

- he would always talk trash about the way you played and how you always had to retune your bass halfway through practice because “the problem’s never you, it’s always the tuning.”

- over time he did realize that it was actually the tuning and pretended to still be annoyed whenever you took forever to figure out the right tune.

- when you first met he secretly ran a hate page about you on twitter then pretended like it wasn’t him when you got a “from your contacts” message on the account.

- you didn’t care because to be honest you did the same exact thing and pretended you didn’t know who bakugousucks42792 was and why they had so many candids of him.

- broke his drums by hitting them too hard after you directly stumbled into his eyesight halfway through a concert, purposefully blocking him from seeing all his fans.

- cut the strings off your bass after you did that because if his instrument was broken, so was yours.

- eventually the rivalry turned into an enemies to lovers trope and he realized that he looked forward to your daily arguments, you obviously didn’t know that and still continued to fuck with him.

- on his bass / kick drum you stuck a large wad of chewing gum onto the part where the thing hits the drum and he had to delay the show to get it all off.

- changed his hate account to a stan account and his followers suddenly disappeared but his posts still blew up.

- finally asked you out at the end of one of your shows.

“thanks for coming out! ya’ really had nothin’ better to do hah? losers.”

“anyways. i’d like to take this time to say something to this idiot i know.”

“will you be my girlfriend?” he looked towards you where your bass hung off your frame.

you just stood there with your mouth open.

“….sure?”

and later that night, the topic ….sure? was trending on twitter.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Strongest

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Getou - 18+

Words: 3419

Warnings: language, passionate sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem! & m! receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation (tiny bit), threesome, satosugu , orgasm delay, nipple play, established relationship

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. In your sorrow, you slept with his old, now criminal, friend Suguru Getou. That finally got Gojo to admit his love for you. But now that Getou had a taste of happiness he simply cannot let go. This is the smut part.

Colour: Hot & rough (Guess who's rougher)

His love series - part 4

Author's note: I'm guessing this is what y'all been waiting for. Also apologies to the people who made the gifs.

"Hello?", you cried at the empty house. You looked door by door in the Gojo's family estate to find nothing but silence. As you arrived at the master quarters you felt the slight vibrations of sorcery trigger your body. You turned, spell in hand, only to stop inches before striking your fiance in the face; perhaps you should not have stopped yourself, you thought, given how he snuck up to you.

Satoru smiled. He clasped your hand in his and planted a kiss on your palm before pulling you against him. "I heard my girl got promoted to special grade today", he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Yeah, they just told me", you chuckled as he showered you with kisses up and down your neck.

"I don't know about grade, but you were always special to me", he whispered in your ear.

His hands roamed down your torso as he used his body to push yours on the wall. He hiked your leg over his hip, pushing his knee on your clothed core. His other hand unbuttoned the top of your uniform, his lips leaving a trail of red blossoms as they travelled further down your chest.

"You know", he said, "I'm starting to feel threatened by you my love"

You chuckled. He was not being serious, you knew that, and yet when you looked into his crystal blue eyes you could not help but doubt your own reason. A shadow fell over you. You looked to your right and was met with Suguru's large frame, leaning over the wall next to you with one arm resting over your head. You shook Satoru off, trying to cover up as you laughed in embarrassment, but the sorcerer held you in his arms. You only managed to twirl around in Satoru's embrace, him pulling your back flush against his chest, placing more kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder.

"Suguru", you laughed nervously, "I'm really sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him"

Suguru raised one of his eyebrows. "Don't you?", he said suggestively.

"We had a disagreement", Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder, "See, Suguru here believes you deserve a reward for your new position. I on the other hand cannot help but be overcome with a need to fuck you until you can't stay awake anymore"

Your breath caught. "So-"

"So we decided to do both", Suguru leaned over you. He glided his thumb over your skin, from the tip of your chin down your neck and collarbone until it dug under your bra, pulling it -and you- forward. "If you'll have us", he said. He kneeled down in front of you, pulling your right leg over his shoulder. He kissed your thigh over your black tights, his lips dangerously close to the trim of your skirt.

"Of course she will, she's been craving this since the day you moved in with us", Satoru unbuttoned your top all the way down. His hands dove under your bra to cup your breasts. He pulled you flush against his chest, close enough for you to feel everything he felt for you. His teeth nibbled on your ear. "You're so greedy", he groaned in your ear, "I love it".

You threw your head back when Suguru's thumb pressed over your clothed entrance. "She needs to somehow compensate for your small-OW", Satoru kicked Suguru's leg.

"What do you think my love?", he made sure you knew Suguru was lying.

You chuckled. He was just asking for it.

"Suguru's bigger", you smiled at him.

"OH IS HE?", Satoru chuckled as he picked you up. You yelped and laughed when he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you off to the bedroom. Suguru shook his shoulders. You had brought it on yourself.

Satoru let you down lightly on the bed, immediately climbing on top of you. His hands cupped your face, his legs caging your body. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss that seemed to last an infinity. "Wanna put it to the test while I eat you out?", he growled as he nibbled on your lower lip.

Suguru peeled him off of you. "You're going to let her sit on your face", he said, his hand on Satoru's throat.

"And why would I do that?"

"Cause I wanna see it", Suguru kissed Satoru before pulling him away and forcing him onto the bed. He gave you his hand and pulled you against him, taking your lips in his own. "I'll make sure he behaves", he gently lifted your chin before turning his gaze to your fiance. "Won't you Satoru?", he cried.

Satoru clicked his tongue in response. He sat on his knees, his hands tracing the curve of your waist until they wrapped around your torso, pulling you once more against him. His hand reached from behind to lift your chin and let you face him. His lips hovered over yours, close enough to feel his breath yet too far to reach. "Do it", he said with a smirk, "See what happens".

Before you could respond he let his body fall back on the mattress, crocking his finger at you. You hesitantly moved your hips toward him before his hands pulled you over his face. A yelp escaped you as he tore your tights at the crotch to reach the wetness of your panties. He pulled their soft fabric to the side, his tongue reaching to trace the lips of your folds.

Suguru's hand cupped your cheek. He drank your next moan and all the rest in a fervent kiss. Your lack of attention turned Satoru livid; he plunged his finger inside your core, scraping and curling at all the spots he alone knew would have your knees trembling. He lapped at your juices like a starved man as he pinched your bud. Soon, you could not concentrate on Suguru anymore, your body falling forward as you panted over Satoru's abs.

"Sat...or...sator...", you tried saying his name, but your breaths were too erratic to let you form words.

Getou's crooked finger hooked underneath your chin. "Is he doing a good job princess?", he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the bridge of your nose, "Shall we make him feel good too?"

Suguru palmed Satoru over the trousers. The latter groaned as his length grew harder, his voice vibrating against your folds. You bit back a moan.

"Let him hear you, baby", Suguru breathed as he sucked on the skin of your neck. He held your left breast in one hand and freed Satoru's length with the other. His thumb brushed over the tip.

Satoru breathed hard, but he did not want to stop; he would not let Suguru distract him from proving his point. He adjusted you on top of his, spreading your folds with his thumbs before plunging his tongue inside. You could feel him smirk as he pulled moan after moan from your body. Suguru wrapped his arms around you, his lips attacking your nipple until he scattered all logic from your mind. Satoru continued pumping two of his long fingers inside your core and pretty soon you were unravelling on his plump lips.

Your body bent in half, chest heaving as you rested your head on his hips. You felt Satoru's lips kiss your inner thigh and you shot up from the bed, fearful of crashing him. He reached out for your waist as you turned to check on him and pulled you back on the bed. He crashed his lips onto yours.

"Look at the mess you made", his thumb brushed over his lower lip, gathering some of your essence that dripped from its rim. He made a show of licking his thumb, his face only inches away from yours.

"Is our girl feeling nice?", Suguru gathered your hair away from your shoulder, revealing a patch large enough to kiss.

"Yes", you breathed.

Suguru leaned over your ear, his fingers tracing the front of your torso. "Will you let me taste you next?", he whispered.

Satoru pulled you away. He kissed you as he lifted you up, his length teasing your core. "No way", he said against your lips, "We're not done here"

"Satoru", you combed his silver hair before taking his face in your hands. You gave him a sweet kiss before pushing him down on the mattress.

You continued kissing him as you pulled open his uniform, all the way down to the waist of his trousers. His length was still hard and painful. You planted a kiss on the side before giving it a couple of pumps. Satoru trembled a bit. You moved your kisses until you reached its tip. You gave a knowing look at Suguru. He smiled before he plunged two of his digits into your core, his lips kissing all around your entrance.

You turned back to Satoru. "I want you to feel good too", you took his length between your lips.

Satoru tensed. He threw his head back as you hollowed your cheeks. "God, y/n", he covered his bright blue eyes with his hand. His hips chased your lips every time you pulled away.

Suguru scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you enough for his tongue to snake inside your folds. You moaned against Satoru's length, causing him to toss his trembling hand on your hair. Gojo did not hold any sound back; he made sure you knew exactly how you made him feel, either by vocalizing his lust or pulling you closer over his member.

You felt Getou's silent chuckle as it broke on your skin. He picked himself up, his hands still pleasuring you, and began planting kisses on your spine. Your back arched as his teeth scrapped along the bone-line. You let go of Gojo, your head dropping down to pant Suguru's name.

"Don't distract her Suguru or I'll put it in your ass instead"

Geto's sweet laughter rang in your ears. You moved your hand up and down Satoru's length. "I'm fine", you kissed him on the side.

"Oh are you", you jolted as you felt Suguru's length press on your entrance, "Now that just won't do". He traced your lower lips with the tip of his length, never breaking in, until he had you shuddering. "I want you ecstatic", he said, "I want your mind washed blank from pleasure"

"Suguru", you whined, "Please"

"Please what, princess?"

"Ple-ah"

He slowly plunged his length inside you. He let it drag over your walls as he pulled out only to thrust further in. It took him a couple of times doing that before you had fully enveloped him and he set up a pace that had your toes curling.

Your mind tried concentrating on working Satoru's length, but Suguru felt too good inside you to form coherent thoughts. A hand cupped your cheek; Satoru sat up to peer into your eyes. The light in his bright blue trembled with need.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.. "God", he groaned as he bit your lip, "I could look at that face every day"

You arms wrapped around Satoru's body as Suguru picked up his pace. Your ear was pressing against his heart, its beats louder than anything you had ever heard. Gojo ran his hand over your back, soothing his friend's hard thrusts. Between half-lidded eyes, you noticed Satoru's pain and remembered what you had been doing. You bent down and took him back between your lips, eliciting a groan.

"GAh...you better make our girl come Suguru", he said, his head falling back, "Fuck, y/n!"

"If you keep squeezing me like that princess I'm not gonna last", he said but picked up the pace.

His grip was gentle as he held you, trying his best not to bruise your delicate thighs, yet he moved his hips in a feverish rhythm that escalated in tune with your voice. He lifted your hips a little, the new angle hitting your G-spot. Your shriek was muffled as you gagged on Gojo's length. Geto reached down to press circles on your bud, his hand moving fast.

"Suguru!", you cried before Satoru pulled you back on his length.

Gojo's hand held your head, his fingers softly twirling your curls as he moved his hips. His face twisted in pleasure at every moan you let out on his length. You could not remember the moment Getou broke the knot that he had tied in your core, but you could certainly tell when Satoru was thrown into a world of ecstasy. His hand grabbed you tighter as he panted your name, your mouth filling with the product of his love. He pulled you up, still breathing hard, his thumb tracing your dripping chin. His lips conquered yours and he tasted himself in your kiss.

"Oh Suguru look at the view you're missing"

Satoru slightly turned your head. To the already desperate Suguru that was enough to send him over the edge. He stilled inside you, his hands holding your hips flush against his. You felt the warmth of his essence fill his condom as he pulsated within your walls. His warm breath exploded on the skin of your back, his loving lips planting kisses on your tailbone.

"Think you can take me too, my love?", Satoru pulled you off Suguru.

"Give her a moment prick"

"I will", Satoru kissed your forehead as he softly laid you on your back. He opened your legs and sat between them, his fingers tracing your fluttering folds. He observed your expressions change as he filled your thigh with hickeys. "That was weak, Suguru", he smirked, his thumb pressing on your clit, "There's barely anything here"

"Oh really?", he tossed a condom at his friend.

"Yeah", Gojo gave you light kisses as his hardness pressed on your entrance until it snaked inside. He observed your face as he moved all the way in. Your hands wrapped around his torso, your legs straddled his waist from below. "Y/n, look at me"

You turned to look inside the blue depths of Satoru's eyes. He touched his forehead to yours, his length slowly thrusting inside you.

"Look at me", he said again, breathing against your lips, "Look into these eyes that want you"

His kiss was desperate, his pace phenomenal. Your ears filled with Suguru's "fuck"'s and moans. His head thrown back on a chair, his hand on his length and his eyes fixed on your form, he breathed hard and called your names as pumped himself in tune with Satoru's thrusts.

"Ah, you're squeezing me", Satoru said against your neck, "If you make me come too early it'll be over for you". He stilled his hips, his fingers digging in the skin of your thighs to keep you in place. "Just like that", he said. He had not come. His eyes were blazing with last, his cheeks hot and red. Yet his hands would not let you, or himself, move.

"Satoru...", you struggled

He leaned close, trailing kisses on your collarbone. "That's it, say my name again", his thumb caressed your cheek.

"Satoru..."

"Say that you love me", his hand wrapped around your neck, "Promise you'll never leave my sight"

"I won't. I love you S .."

He pumped his hips once. "These eyes can't survive without you gazing at them", he said as he nipped on your chest. You heard a chair move.

"You're too rough", Suguru shoved Satoru away.

"You're too nice", Satoru continued nipping at your breasts with his hand around your throat.

"Satoru....move", you tried to wiggle your hips towards him but to no avail.

"Don't worry, princess, he will", Suguru stood behind Satoru and pulled him back by the shoulder. He planted a love bite on his neck at which Satoru groaned. Suguru pulled your leg around Satoru's waist, his clothed hardness rubbing against his back.

Satoru pulled your hands over your head. He breathed hard as Suguru entered him. You trembled as he twitched inside you. And every thrust of Suguru, Satoru had no choice but to move inside you. Your hands grasped at the silver locks of your fiance.

"Fuck Suguru", Satoru groaned, "Let me make my point, I'll do you later"

Suguru pulled him up. "Be nicer", he gave him a kiss.

Satoru frowned. He took a look at your heaving form before pushing Suguru back. He leaned closer again, planting sweet kisses on your face. "I don't know if you mean it when you say you love me but I don't give a shit anymore", he whispered, "I love you. And I can't live without you". He picked up a steady pace. "Don't you see Suguru?", his thrusts grew hard and precise, marking his every word, "She's a special grade now. And you want me to be happy? She'll take more difficult and dangerous missions. I already worry about you, now I have to worry about her too?"

"I'm...I'm not made...of glass", you struggled to put together as Satoru's length kissed your G-spot.

"I know. I don't care. Shit happens", Satoru cupped your warm cheek, "I want you. I want us, all of us, to be like this forever. Don't you?"

"Satoru"

"Open your eyes, baby"

You had not realised you had closed them. Satoru's face was peering over you, close enough to touch. "Promise me you'll put yourself first", he panted, "Fuck the world"

"For once we agree", Suguru came up behind you, planting a kiss on your swetened forehead.

"Promise me you'll be selfish", he kept your legs in place around him as he pounded inside you, "Promise you'll come back every time"

"You wouldn'-"

He stopped thrusting, keeping his length inside you as he circled his hips. "I need two words from you baby", he leaned closer, "Two words and I'll have you creaming on my cock"

"Suguru"

"No princess he's right", he kissed your hands, "I need to hear it too"

"I- I promise"

"Good", Satoru captured your lips again. He drunk in your shriek as he resumed his thrusts, his hips slapping hard against yours. "I need you", he said, "If you stray from your word I'll just fuck you so hard before every mission that you won't be able to walk there"

"Satoru"

He groaned as you squeezed him. "And if you ever die on me I ll find you in the next life and fuck you stupid"

"SATORU!", your orgasm hit you hard, your form shaking underneath Satoru's body. He kissed your neck as your arms searched for his to hold. "Fuck Satoru", tears fell from your eyes as you tried to calm your trembling body down.

He showered your nose with kisses. "I'd say that was the best I've done my love"

"More than...oh my God'

He bit your lip. "Remember your promise", he whispered, "I'm being serious"

"Either let me finish or come suck me off", Suguru nudged Satoru.

You weakly sat on your elbows. "I'm sorry Suguru I-"

Satoru's lips stopped the rest of your sentence from spilling. "No you don't go kneel to that bastard", he said. "These lips are mine alone", he traced his thumb over your mouth before doing the same to your entrance, "It already hurts me sharing these".

"You're both mine", you pulled him close by the nape, "Not the other way around"

"Fuck yes we are, you vixen", he bit your lip before pulling away to face Suguru, who had returned to spreading his body on the bed, back on the frame. Gojo leaned down to take Suguru in his mouth. "You're enjoying this too much", he told Getou, "You're next on my list you know"

"Oh you have no idea-ah", he breathed out a sigh of pleasure when Gojo ran his tongue down his length.

You lay on the bed, too weak to stand. Yet you could not help but rub your legs together at the sight of your mens' faces as they fell apart. A hand crept its way between your thighs. You startled. You looked to the side and saw Satoru winking at you, his fingers pressing on your entrance before your legs allowed him inside. You flipped on your back so he could pleasure you with ease.

"God, y/n", Suguru groaned, "I'm never gonna get rid of this ha-"

"Shut up", you moaned as Satoru sped up his thrusts. You ran your hands over your breasts, your hips riding his hand. The night was only just beginning.

[noobsoconfusing]

‘twin fantasy’_hamzahthefantastic

summary: just when hamzah thought he finally had a solid situation with you, the overwhelming feelings of being loved for the first time catch you, drown you.

angst, internet situationship au, hamzah being himself, kinda codependency, awkward, avoidant attachment issues.

>_<

if hamzah could describe the feeling of loneliness mixed with whatever the fuck being in love meant in only one word, it would reduce simply to: you.

it was the way your eyes glitched when you blinked in front of your low quality web cam, or maybe how you typed when you were in a hurry, always reminding yourself to maybe, just maybe, type something nicer so he didn’t feel like he was the problem.

so, as he stares directly at his phone screen, his eyes itchy and irritated from waiting to see you online, he decides to quickly type something to catch your attention.

hamzahthefantastic: the other night i cried while thinking of having sex with you

and so he waits. and waits, and waits.

the green dot next to your contact name appears and he cringes at himself for letting out an audible shriek of excitement.

y/n: hamzah!!!!

y/n: fr?

he smiles, shaking his head because yeah, it was for real, but also because he had gotten what he wanted. your attention.

hamzahthefantastic: lol. maybe. yeah. i dunno

hamzahthefantastic: wanna facetime?

y/n: hold on i’ll call you :)

>_<

silence. comforting moments between hazy stares and timid laughter. hamzah enjoyed this.

“your room is messy again, y/n” he mentions, peeking as much as he can from the position your webcam is in.

“yeah, i haven’t really got time to clean up… but yours is messy too!” you point, the camera glitches at your sudden loud voice.

“living alone kinda sucks, you know? at least i had my room clean when i lived with my parents, a warm plate of food too, and even allowance money!” he rolled his eyes, and you nodded.

hamzah and you had been friends ever since he lived with his parents, so you got to see the whole process of him moving to a different city, and you were there for him when he got his first place, and then his first job, and his first pets, and so on..

your heart wrenched when you realised you had lived a whole damn life by his side, however, behind a screen.

“wish i could live with you, hamzah..” you quietly say, hoping he doesn’t catch on, but he does, used to your quiet demeanour.

“me too, y/n.” a glitchy smile appears from his side of the screen, and you copy it.

and god, you love his smile. it’s so weird, so odd how the smile and physical happiness of someone that lives yet so far away from you can infect you with such joy. disgusting feelings arise from your stomach.

stupid fucking love and stupid fucking damned distance!

“for real? like, for ‘for real?” your voice shakes.

he nods with seriousness invading his face. “hell yeah, for real. i’d love to live with you, in fact, i do feel like i live with you even now, you know? we talk ever day, i see your face every- well, not every day, but enough to keep me going for the week!” he smiled, referring to those times you didn’t feel good enough to facetime, so he settled for texting, which made him equally happy.

“oh man…” you mutter. feelings enough, so damn enough. you don’t know what to do with your mind, and you don’t know why it’s racing so fast, imagining billions of scenarios.

he notices your manners. hamzah suddenly becomes self aware. scared he has said something wrong.

“are you-?”

“i love you.” you quickly cut him off, its not your intention though, just the lag delaying your confession.

confession that has already been confessed plenty of times.

“hey! i love you too!” as his soul finds its way back into his body, hamzah admits. joy suddenly running through his body like gasoline and fire consuming a wreck.

silence. you look up to stare at his pixelated frame. and he’s so beautiful. and you think this is all a damn dream.

“but do you like me?” the undertone of your sore voice makes its way throughout your sentence, betraying you.

he tilts his head like a confused puppy. you bite back a tiny smile.

“what do you mean? why are you asking that? do you not think i like you?” hey asks, confused and aching for a quick response.

you think a bit, not even knowing what you meant by that stupid question.

“nevermind, hah! it’s nonsense, really…” you try to sound convincing.

for your misfortune, hamzah knows you way better than you think.

“not nonsense, something is bugging you and i can tell.” he adjusts his headphones as he says that, trying to get a better listen at your reply.

“you.”

hamzah furrows his eyebrows at your quick answer.

“huh?”

“it bugs me that i am always thinking of you, that’s my issue, yeah?” you say, a bit more loose, “i always think about how amazing and how wonderful it wouldve been being your neighbour or your friend from school, but no, i am stuck here a thousand and a million more miles away from you and i can’t do anything to cut the distance short.” you sigh.

hamzah bites his lower lip, and he thinks, oh, how a thought you must have been saving for a long time also affects him in severe ways. he thinks the same.

“you know, y/n? i don’t think it was, you know, the amazing casualties of life that made us end up talking to each other until four in the fucking morning. you know what i think? that you were actually made for me.” he shrugs his shoulders and tries to put on a smile for you, even though he wishes he could just cry…or something.

“right.” you sigh. “hamzah, i just… i feel like my whole life revolves around you, is that weird? like, i wake up and see if you texted me while i was asleep. then i go about my day and still think about you, and then when you text me i just.. drop everything else to spend time with you.” you try to avoid the camera, or his gaze. “do you think that’s weird? am i weird?”

your face drops as he bursts out laughing.

“no! not weird at all, y/n! you see, i- okay, i do the same… you’re so pretty, inside and outside and you’re so thoughtful and so kind and beautiful and just… yourself, that i find myself thinking about you and your antics for hours, if not the whole day!” he lets out a deep sigh of satisfaction, shaking his head with a smile because letting all of his emotions out felt so fucking great.

“you’re so weird, so dumb…” you smile, even if you feel like your eyes are about to shed waterfalls of tears.

“we can be weird.” he adds. “it’s only cool if we’re both weird.” his voice is soft and low just like always. so genuine.

“right, yeah.” you smile too.

hamzah can’t help but secretly take a picture of your face, the dim lighting of your room accentuates your features perfectly and he finds himself more and more invested in you.

“yeah, right..”

>_<

hamzah’s voice fills your ears in a soothing manner.

while you carefully listen, you can’t help but dissociate from reality. your mind occupied in something you can’t really comprehend.

“…a video, like in a youtube channel, do you think that’s a good idea?” his voice slowly becomes more present, and you snap your head to his direction. “are you there…?”

“yeah, sorry, just mind fog, hah!” you reply forcing a smile.

“alright, are you okay? have you eaten today? do you wanna end the call so you can sleep?” hamzah asks and you feel a little bit dizzy from all the questions that come out of his mouth.

“yeah- no! i am fine, what were you saying about a video on youtube?” you quickly try to bring the focus to him again.

hamzah frowns so quickly that you think it’s a glitch. but he smiles right away.

“i was saying, i was thinking about posting something on youtube.” he repeats. “you think that’s a good idea?” you come to realise how hamzah always asks for your opinion, always seeking your approval.

you nod. “yeah, i think it’d be really cool, maybe you’ll get famous one day!”

his laugh fills your heart, and makes you flash a smile too.

“nah, i don’t think so, it’ll be just for fun, just to kill time, i kinda need a distraction from thinking ‘bout you all day, right?” he says.

and what he said, keeps playing in your mind for a while.

distraction. from you.

“yeah, cool!”

and you try your best to keep track of the conversation, but you’ve been so tired.

so tired.

not sleepy, somehow. just so, so fucking tired.

>_<

your surprised face comes up to the screen as this time he is wearing a grey hoodie, different from the black one he always uses.

“cute. you look like… well, something cute!” he says making the screen bigger so he can see you better.

“why?” you laugh, “something?”

“yeah, something. you know, you’re so unique i can’t even describe you or compare you to anything. i love you a lot, y/n…”

stop. please. stop.

you think. the feeling of need inside your chest hurts and burns after every word he says. after every sentence. everything reminds you that he’s so far away, that you are probably never going to touch him. never feel him.

and the screen is so cold and so hard and so lifeless, and you wonder, how can something inanimate hold your biggest desire inside? how can hamzah live inside your device? how can it hold so much meaning inside its metallic shell?

“i love you.” you bluntly say. “i love you so much it hurts and i wish you could make it stop hurting so fucking bad.” a desperate laugh erupts from your throat, one that screams for help.

“oh, baby, i wish i could hold you so close. never gonna let you go once i have you here with me, alright? im gonna glue your body to mine and we will just have to live like that…” an exaggerated version of his deep fantasy came out, but still, he was very much serious.

“sounds good.” you reply.

“fuck yeah it does” he sighs, but not defeated, just full of hope. one of you had to be hopeful, right?

“fuck yeah…” you repeated, mind fog attacking you once again.

>_<

his grey hoodie on again, and you start to think he hasn’t washed it in the full week that has passed.

it’s alright though, you love him that way.

“i keep having these… dreams about you” he says. “odd dreams, not nightmares though, just weird dreams”

“me too.” you say. the guilt of the neediness inside your tummy makes its way to your brain. eating you up.

“what about?” hamzah asks, more invested now that he knows you dream about him too.

“you first.” you deadpan.

“fantasies. really fucking good fantasies, though.”

“about?” you ask again.

“sex and… whatnot.” oh. he’s so serious and so direct and so honest.

you can’t hide your surprise, nor the blush that creeps up to your cheeks.

“oh, i guess… me too.” and your voice shakes because it’s so odd to say this out loud.

“i don’t know. im so used to you, i just imagine whats like to… well, be with you. and touch you and just feel your body against mine.”

“sometimes i feel like i crave a touch i’ve never felt before. how can i yearn for something i have never tasted?” you ask, and he opens his eyes, already wide.

“yeah, i feel the same.”

“need you, though. very badly.” a deep feeling of emptiness swallows you up. how can your bed be so empty yet you’re laying on it? how can hamzah be your twin fantasy yet he’s so far away?

“i wanna be inside you, just feel you and melt over your body and maybe then, i’ll feel complete.” hamzah has a hard time expressing his emotions with coherent thoughts, but this time you understand him completely.

>_<

it’s been minutes. and you are about to freaking win the contest. again. like the last four times.

hamzah’s eyes are red even over the bad quality camera he’s using. “y/n! please just let me win this time!” he begs, his eyes squinting. he struggles to keep them open.

and you’re perfectly fine, nonchalant even. but as you see his struggle, you give in.

“fine!”

you blink. tears fall down your cheeks from how dry your poor eyes were. you laugh.

“finally!” he celebrates. “oh god, thought i was going blind…”

“well, we’ve been on call for like five hours, the screen is gonna make us blind sooner than later” you laugh, and he does too.

“i just like talking to you.” he admits and you swear you can see a slight red tint adorning his face. he’s so adorable.

stupidly adorable. your heart aches.

“i like it too.”

you loved it, actually.

did you?

>_<

that damned grey hoodie again. and you think, it’s the third consecutive time that week.

you, however, just despised the way he looked absolutely fucking stunning in it. as if he knew it did things to you.

“what are we?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence that surrounded you both.

you tended to do assignments together on call, sometimes he knew things you didn’t and he helped you, and viceversa.

“i am hamzah, you’re y/n and you’re my everything.” he replied, still focusing on his excel sheet.

“but what are we?” a situationship. that was it. hamzah would constantly call you pet names and tell you how much he loves you, and then drop the most horny messages about you.

“we are everything, i just said”

“that’s not an answer, hamzah, what are we? like, are we best friends, friends, lovers, or just people who talk to each other about their deepest secrets and feelings?” you closed your powerpoint and stared at the webcam.

“you’re everything to me, right? all of the above, every option, you are.” he said, still focusing on his work but at the same time on you.

silence again.

you nodded. a smile forming on your face.

“everything, then.”

>_<

your cheeks flushed at his words, you were a second away from turning your camera off from how embarrassed you were.

“you want- hamzah! you wanna what!?” you put a hand over your mouth in a surprised expression.

he laughs.

“i said i wanna fuck you, i just said!” he repeated himself, a smirk plastered on his face.

“why would you say that?” you laughed.

“because you were sad and i wanted to cheer you up!” he held his hands up in defence, his screen lagged at the sudden movement. “i’d rather have you happy than sad!”

“now im sad and flustered…” your hands went up to your cheeks, just to feel the warmth that spread across.

“hey, that’s better than sad alone.”

“you’re so dumb!”

>_<

handling your emotions was something you never knew about. and hamzah seemed to be so down to earth about what he wanted, about what he felt, that you couldn’t help but feel left behind in the emotional management area.

“gonna call it a night, im really tired, hamzah.” you said, a yawn escaping your mouth.

“oww, but- but it’s only been three hours..” his big puppy eyes stare at you, and you beat yourself up when you look at his sad face.

stop. stop!

“sorry…” you apologise. “we’ve been talking all week and i’ve been staying up till late the whole week too, we can chat during the day, though.”

he frowns but nods at the same time.

“fair, love you, have a good night!” he waves, waiting for you to say you love him back.

“good night, hamzah!” you smile, ready to end the call, but before you do so, he quickly yells;

“i said i love you…” his hopeful eyes dance across the screen, darting from your own to the smaller square with his face in it.

you pause for a moment. swallow and blink.

“oh, yeah, me too!” and there it was. your stupid feelings ruining everything.

his face drops, but somehow manages to keep a small smile. “alright, love you more, see you tomorrow?”

“yeah.”

and as if it was a race, you rush to press the ‘end call’ button.

your head spinning had you dizzy, so you throw the phone away and lay on your bed. hamzah is all you can think about.

it was like a self defence thing that was, at the same time, self destructive. you had to run away from him, you had to stop your heart from being broken. though, you didn’t think hamzah could hurt you. it was all so confusing! so dumb!

>_<

early hours of the morning, and you are not even fully awake when your phone starts buzzing from the other side of the room.

you rub your sore eyes and groan. every time you woke up it felt like an accomplishment. it was such a struggle, you just wanted your bed to swallow you.

hamzahthefantastic: good morning :D

hamzahthefantastic: kinda went to sleep with a tiny little concern last night…..

hamzahthefantastic: are you mad at me?

the last thing you wanted was to make him upset, however, there was a certain part of his whole attention and sort of devotion –to you– that made you upset.

y/n: gm!

y/n: im not mad at you

hamzahthefantastic: for real?

hamzahthefantastic: you seemed upset last night, kinda zoned out idk

y/n: just tired ngl

hamzahthefantastic: alr it’s fine dw

hamzahthefantastic: i love you a lot y/n

hamzahthefantastic: have a good day today yeah? get some rest, make sure to eat PROPER food, and also don’t forget that i love you :)

you stared at his texts for a little too long, then locked your phone. then unlocked it again. stared some more and then bit your lip, thinking of a reply.

hamzah. yeah. you loved him! how could you not? you had been fixated on him since you two met. why, then, the feelings of overwhelming love now creeped into your brain like flesh eating amoeba?

y/n: ily too!

you frowned. the text was so dry.

y/n: <3

better.

and the reason?, simple. hamzah’s love felt like it was tearing you apart. suffocating you. nobody had ever loved you, or showed remote interest in you like hamzah did.

was he too much? no. you shook your head, thinking then, maybe, you were not enough.

your phone buzzed, and you knew it was him. but you couldn’t get to check.

>_<

per usual, at the end of the day, your routine of facetiming had to be completed. hamzah took his phone and typed a message for you.

hamzahthefantastic: hey! wanna facetime?

hamzahthefantastic: could use to hear your voice :) been thinking ‘bout u all day

11 minutes passed. no response from you.

hamzahthefantastic: helloooooooo

hamzahthefantastic: :( are you there?

hamzahthefantastic: is it ok if i call you?

hamzahthefantastic: miss you y/n

hamzahthefantastic: did i do anything wrong? please call when u see this alr?

hamzah waited. and waited. and waited some more. almost how he waited for you to reply after sending a weird message. this time though, something inside his gut felt different.

it felt like he had fucked something up. ruined whatever the fuck he had going on with you. a something that meant so much, only so much to him.

he was confused.

>_<

waiting felt like skinning himself alive.

like trying to dissect his own heart while it was still beating. beating hard. beating for you.

he opened his chat with you, the only chat he had pinned. hamzah scrolled through all the unread messages he had sent to you, and they seemed uncountable.

no reply. it’s been days.

he sighed. twin fantasy feeling like a fantasy he was only living by himself all along. were you even real?

hamzah couldn’t get himself to doubt you.

>_<

hamzah’s heart clenched. he stared at his messy room, at how the plates piled up on his night table, at how he had your chat open on his laptop to see if you got online any time soon.

he felt like a loser.

>_<

days became weeks. and weeks became a month. and a month was something so long in hamzah-time.

and he still held on.

however, he decided to type out something for you again. just as he did daily.

hamzahthefantastic: hey y/n, hi. how’s everything going? you know, i miss you a lot. more than i can take. and i miss your voice and your face. and most importantly i miss your company. it’s okay, though. i am hoping one day we can reunite, i secretly know this is one of your plans to make me want you even more -_- …but baby, please just come back, yeah? i feel so weird and out of place if you’re not here. i wonder if you’re lonely and i wish i could touch you so i just touch my screen. does that make me a loser? i love you so much, i hope you know that. hurts when you don’t reply, and hurts more realising you probably never will again. please be okay. i love you a lot. and i am sort of tearing up right now, does that make me a loser too? ily

ps. thank you for being my best friend and my best everything (you’re literally my life though) i’ll wait as long as you need!

ps2. i’ll try tomorrow, maybe you’ll be online by then

ps3. i still fantasise about you!

silly, he thought. a loser, a hopeless romantic living so far away from his muse. just a twin flame dancing on his own, by now.

a twin fantasy lived through the eyes of one, only.

>_<

sorry i took so long and sorry this is proper shit. i wanted an excuse to write something other than fluff or smut. i hope you ppl like dis one! (my shitty take at angst) raise ur hand if this ever happened to u totally not based on a true story

[rs-hawk]

Sorry for the delay in Day Four! I’ll be posting Day Five soon as well. Also, I only have one more spot for the BATB Week since I still have one ask in my box, so if you want yours done, hurry and submit it!

CW: this post contains graphic depictions and smut. This is intended for an 18+ audience. Knotting, excessive cum, talks of pregnancy, etc

After Beast drug his cock in and out of his pretty captive’s cunt, he was pulsing and throbbing, so close to bursting. She was hiccuping as fat tears of overstimulation poured down her face. For a moment, he just watched her whine and cry, her cunt stretched around just the tip of his cock. Her lower lip quivered as she looked up at him, her dark eyes glistening with the wet tears there.

“A-are you not going to knot me?” her voice came out as a whisper, her throat tight. She had never felt so full in her life. Part of her wanted it to never end, and if he knotted her, at least that would delay it.

He smirked, lowering his mouth to her face, his large tongue licking up her face to taste her tears, before asking, “do you want me to?”

All she could do was nod, and in seconds, he had stuffed himself back into her warm hole, his knot forcing its way inside. She grabbed onto his arms, the fur somewhat comforting as she tried not to cry out. He grunted as his knot finally popped inside of her, his cum filling her to the point that her stomach slightly extended.

To her surprise, he kissed her. His sharp teeth grazing her lips and cheeks as his lips consumed hers. He no longer tasted of her, instead he tasted of his own desire. The smell of his sweat and fur overwhelmed her just as his lips and tongue did. She arched her back slightly, her fingers now tangled in the fur of his neck. He was trying to be gentle. She could tell. His lips worked over hers with cautious care, and his tongue barely explored her mouth this time.

After the kiss, he picked her up, still stuck on his knot. He sat in the chair, holding her in his lap. A hiss escaped her lips as she was forced down on his knot, her eyes squeezing shut at the fullness. If she had thought he was stuffing her before, then this was him setting her close to bursting. However, he drew her against him, wrapping his large arms around her small frame.

With a smile, she buried her face in his fur, soothed by the warmth of his fur and body. Just as she was starting to doze off, his knot had gone down enough for him to pull out of her. She assumed he would be satisfied, or at least tired, but instead she realized quickly he was grinding his once again fully hard cock against her clit.

When she whined, fidgeting in his lap, it was like a switch in him flipped.

Before she knew it, she was on her hands and knees, his long claws holding her hips up as he was lining his cock up with her cum filled hole. Just as she found her voice, he bottomed out inside of her roughly, forcing his entire length into her.

He was like an animal, which she supposed he sort of was. He dropped to all fours, supporting his weight on his palms which were slammed onto the wooden floors on either side of her face. The creaking of the floors could barely be heard over the sound of his knot slamming against her lewd cunt with every thrust.

All she could do was moan and push back against him, though even that she barely could. He was fucking the air out of her with how fast he was going, and in this position, it felt like his tip was reaching her lungs. His back claws were scraping the floor as adjusted his footing to be able to slam himself inside of her faster.

As her tight walls pulsed around his cock, signaling she was once again close to cumming, he roared. That was all it took for her to cum on his cock again. This time it was so intense that it nearly locked poor Beast in place, his captive’s precious cunt trying so hard to milk his massive cock, drawing his cum deeper into her.

“That’s my girl. Mine. Mine,” he growled, snapping his teeth close to her ear. “I’m going to fuck this cunt until you can’t walk. You’re mine. That’s why you’re here.”

“I know. I know,” she babbled in agreement, limply reaching for his hands as she came down from her high.

“Tell me you love it. Ask me to fill you with my seed again,” he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

“I love it. I love it so much. Please knot me. I need you to cum inside of me again,” Belle begged, pushing back more against his cock now.

Beast snarled something she couldn’t hear, but in seconds, he was giving her what she wanted. Forcing his knot inside of her again, the tip of his cock buried against her cervix to dump his seed inside of her again.

Like this story? Support me on Ko-fi ☕ ❤️

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Misdemeanor of the Heart (Chapter 12) Human Alastor x Married Reader

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Domestic violence

AN: I'm sorry for the delay, I've been sick since Thursday and most of today. Please accept a 5k word chapter in exchange for being a day late.

(optional fucking off AN): I did try to quickly edit it quickly for posting today but alas, my illness quickly slipped out of control and I quickly slipped into a four hour nap and my condition quickly slipped worse. We must spare a moment of thanks to @redvexillum for quickly slipping in and quickly plunging her fingers into MisD's raw core. This is how I repay her.

Prev

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

The couch was uncomfortable under you. Was it the couch or the way you sat with your back straight and teetering  on the edge of the seat? Emotions curdled in your stomach, settling in a ball you struggled to identify as anything more than an overwhelming feeling of dread as you watched Laurence slip on his coat. 

For the majority of the week, your husband had hardly been home. At first, it was a welcome reprieve. You took solace in the peace and safety of having the home to yourself in the evenings. You made simple, small dinners that you enjoyed and didn’t require much clean up. The radio kept you company, the rich tenor of Alastor’s voice carrying through the house as you cooked and cleaned.

When Laurance wasn’t home, he wasn’t hitting you. When he was away, he wasn’t desecrating your body for his own carnal pleasures, leaving you sore and broken from serving your wifely duties. When he was away, you could eat to your heart’s content without his biting remarks about how much you ate and didn’t eat. You could indulge without having to hear his cruel excuses about why he refused to let you update your wardrobe to stay on top of the latest fashion trends.

How nice it was to have the house to yourself did nothing to change the simple fact that him spending so much time away from your marital home didn’t sit right with you. It was a wife’s protection to have her husband present in the evening. His absence left you vulnerable, even though his presence had its own danger, at least it was familiar and predictable. 

“Where are you going?” The question was out before you could stop it. You feared you already knew the answer, but what harm was there in letting him lie to you?

“Got a business meeting,” Laurence said despite not being dressed for a business meeting.  He looked too casual for that, open collar and sweater vest clinging to him, highlighting the frame that had once been nothing but muscle but now held a layer of softness.

It reminded you of how he looked when he would take you out to dinner during the courting days For a business meeting, he would wear a meticulously pressed suit, his hair perfectly styled, and every detail about him polished to a shine. 

“Is that so?”  It wasn’t your intention to question him but the murmured words were out before you could stop them. It wasn’t a wife’s place to question her husband’s whereabouts or his business. Stay home. Take care of the home. Raise babies when they come along. Don’t ask questions. 

Long strides took him across the room before you had a chance to soften your words or make yourself scarce. He loomed in front of you, reaching out quickly and for a moment, a panic you had never felt before flooded your body as his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed. 

Laurence inflicted countless horrors on you throughout your marriage. He’d violated you against your will, used your body while you slept. He’d taken you against your will, he’d taken your body in your sleep. He’d struck you and thrown you, filling your days with screams and pain. But through all that, one thing he had never done was make you truly fear for your life - until now. 

“It’s not your place to question me,” Laurence reminded you, squeezing. Your hands reached out, wrapping around his arm as your eyes widened. Gasping breaths struggled to push through the constriction of his hand. Your heartbeat drummed against your ears, beating rapidly from the adrenaline that flooded your body as Laurence ensured your eyes had nowhere to look but at him. “Unless you want to piss me off again. Is that what you want, sweet thing?” 

“No, Laurence.” Your voice trembled as his grip slowly loosened around your neck while his lips curled into a sadistic smirk.

His thumb caressed your jaw as his smile suddenly softened. Leaning in, he closed the final gap between you. He pressed a sickly sweet, mocking kiss to your lips, a cruel imitation of the stolen kisses lovestruck girls would dream about.You had never understood the desire to have the lips of another on you. You were thankful when he pulled away and his hand completely dropped from your neck.

Laurence reached into his pocket, pulling his wallet free. It was a crisp leather billfold. It was newer, a recent gift from his father before he had passed. His final gift to your budding family was leaving Laurence, his only son, the family business. The clinking of coins was loud, almost louder than the heartbeat still thundering in your ears as he moved coins around, hunting for a few quarters.

“Here,” he grabbed your hand, turning it palm up after slipping his wallet back into his pocket. The weight of the coins settled into your palm and he curled your fingers around them, touch soft. It was nothing like the harsh way he had been grabbing you just minutes prior. 

“Don’t lose them,” he teased you softly. The smile on his face and the tone of the teasing had reminded you of the hopes and dreams you held in the past, when you were little more than a girl dreaming about what married life would be like. You could see the young man, hardly more than a boy himself sitting between his parents on the other side of the table from you and yours, looking at you with curiosity and hope. Was this what that young man had thought married life would have been like?  “Buy yourself something nice. Treat yourself.” 

“Okay,” you said as you watched him turn, making his way out of your marital home. A small voice in the back of your mind screamed that he was going to the bed of another even though you dedicated your life to being a good wife for him, taking beatings and affection without complaint. You took everything he gave you without complaint in the name of being a good wife. You silenced that voice, strange and out of place though it was. It was just a business meeting. Nothing more. Just a casual business meeting. 

It was like you were frozen in place as you waited for the sound of the car leaving the driveway. The memory of the kind man with sweet words you had met a lifetime ago warred with the still too fresh feeling of his hand around your neck.

As the engine faded in the distance, you finally stood and made your way over to the small table that held your purse. There was nearly nothing in it at the moment, it was a few more days until he would give you the money for the week’s shopping. The quarters clinked together as you dropped them into the small coin purse, rattling against a few pennies.

It would be nice to go out, you told yourself as you absently rubbed your hand against your neck, trying to rub away the memory of Laurence’s hand constricting around it. It wasn’t like he had squeezed that hard, you told yourself as you walked through the house, shoes echoing with each step. It startled you, that was all. You overreacted, you told yourself as you stepped out of the back door and onto the porch.

The absence of sun didn’t mean you were taking the day off washing. The air was cool but the clothes would dry just the same, as long as the rain held off, that was. First you would finish scrubbing the smear of pink off Laurence’s collar, ink he assured you, and then you would head to the pharmacy.  

The pink smudge on his collar screamed liar. It screamed that he was lying to you. It screamed that you were lying to yourself. 

It was just ink, he told you. Paint. Don’t be daft. . 

Don’t be a silly woman. 

Heavy clouds covered the sky for as far as you could see and the chill of early spring was biting in the air. If you were unlucky, they could mean rain for you but their light color told you it was doubtful, though not impossible. 

Excitement sparked in your chest, spreading through you as you saw a familiar mop of brown hair on an imposing figure. He looked tall and lean, even wrapped up in a long coat that would leave other men looking softer and wider.  

“Alastor!” You called out to him, waving your arm over your head to catch his attention. 

He turned toward you, his smile radiant and welcoming, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made your breath catch. You hurried to his side, heart racing, though you had managed to maintain some semblance of composure despite the way you had called out to him on the street. It was something you’d normally never do, it drew attention. You had to remind yourself to walk, not run, no matter how much you longed to close the distance. 

What would people say?

“Darling! Lovely to see you.” Alastor greeted you, his warm smile making your pulse quicken, though you couldn’t understand why.  “What are you up to today?”

“Just finished at the pharmacy.” 

“And what’s next for your adventures of the day?” Alastor motioned for you to join him, walking down the sidewalk together. He kept himself between you and the street, ensuring you were shielded from traffic and the dangers that they could pose. There was nothing his presence could do to stop a car going off the road but he was far less likely to be overlooked than you. 

It was strange how the same action Laurance would do felt different coming from Alastor. Why was that? Was it the way he rested his hand on your back, ensuring you felt secure? When his hand would drop, he would take your hand and tuck it around his arm. Somehow, he was always connected to you, not just walking alongside you but walking with you. 

“Probably nothing,” you confessed before remembering, “Oh!”

“Oh?” Alastor mimicked the sound though it did not sound mocking coming from him as it would have if Laurance had done it. There was something about him that put you at ease. Perhaps it was his smile? 

You pulled your coin purse out and fished out two dimes. Again, propriety slipped your mind as you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. His hand was warm in yours. The coins clinked against each other as you softly dropped them into his much larger palm.“I still owe you for how you took care of me.” 

“It’s unnecessary,” Alastor offered you the coins back, however you just pushed his hand back. “Helping pick the curtains was more than enough.” 

“Then to pay you back for the handkerchief,” Alastor could see that you were not going to let this go. The pace had slowed as you both gave each other near total attention.

“Please? I would feel better about it if you took it. I,” you hesitated, “I don’t want there to be any debt between us.” 

“If it’ll put your heart at ease,” Alastor smiled at you as he let the coins fall into his breast pocket. 

“It’ll put my mind at ease,” you corrected him, marveling at the fact that you felt safe enough with him to do so. If you had dared to do the same to Laurance you would have been swiftly reprimanded. It wasn’t a woman’s place to correct a man. If you were unlucky, it would be a painful lesson that would leave bruises healing over a few days. 

“That too,” Alastor’s smile twitched a bit higher. “I have a suggestion, rather than going straight home and wasting away as a lonely housewife, how about you and I pass some time? Or is he waiting for you?” There was a tone to the way he said ‘he’, refusing to say your husband’s name as if speaking of him more directly than necessary was poison or would ruin the day. 

“That wouldn’t be proper.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, feeling the twinge of pain as hard teeth grazed over a still healing split you hadn’t realized was still present. 

“So, he’s waiting for you?” Alastor looked at you, eyebrow raised. 

“No,” you admitted and his smile grew wider, beaming at you. 

“Wonderful, let’s get coffee.”

Your eyes grew wide as you looked around. It would be bad enough to be seen walking together so closely, you realized but to be overheard making plans? You couldn’t agree, this was already far too much risk. Temptation to agree wrapped around your heart. “Alastor, someone could see.” 

“Nonsense, the alley is just ahead. My car isn’t too far. You can wait for me, I’ll grab it, swing by for you and we’ll be off.” Alastor motioned toward an alleyway ahead.

“What?” 

“Just tuck yourself into the alleyway and you can jump in the car when I pull up.” He snapped his fingers, emphasizing his perfect plan, “I know a hole in the wall joint on the other side of the city. We can sit out of view, have a cup of coffee and pass some time. I can drop you off on my way to the station.” 

You hesitated as Alastor held the car door open for you. This wasn’t the best part of the city. Trash gathered, swept into the corners and against the curb by wind. People wearing tattered clothes milled about, some clearly intoxicated. Poverty colored everything, from the people to the buildings and yet the sound of children’s laughter carried down the street, reminding you that there was joy everywhere if you were just willing to see it. 

That didn’t make you hesitate any less when it came time to step out of the car. Eyes flitted around, trying to reassure yourself that you would be safe. Would someone run up and snatch your coin purse? Could you blame them when it looked like many of the people were rubbing pennies together?

“It’s alright,” Alastor’s fingers wiggled as he held his hand out for you. “There’s no one around here who would tattle to him about where you are or who you’re with. They’ve all got bigger things to worry about.”

“Is it safe?” After a moment more of hesitation, you offered him your hand, letting him enclose it in his. He steadied you as you braved stepping out of the car. 

“Of course, my dear! I’d never take you somewhere I wouldn’t be able to assure your safety.” Alastor tucked your hand around his arm as he led you from the car. Your heart pounded in your chest, only speeding up when his arm would brush your shoulder as you walked closely together as your simple heels clicked along the sidewalk along with his polished shoes. 

Part of it was fear. Part of it was something you couldn’t name. Maybe you could, if you let yourself think on it for longer but you were not sure if you wanted to. You were married. This was improper, yes, but it was still just a coffee shared between friends. 

The hinges of the door squeaked loudly, screaming in pain from years of lackluster maintenance as Alastor opened it. He held the heavy door open and ushering you inside with a hand on your back, just a bit too low to be proper. Was it intentional or accidental? Did it matter? Why did you care?

His hand remained on your back as he guided you to the counter. It was a small, informal cafe with lively talking filling the air. Most of the small tables were filled with people, talking, reading newspapers but almost all with a cup in front of them. It had a neighborhood feel that transcended social and financial class lines but lacked the suffocating weight of eyes found in your local cafes. 

“What would you like?” Alastor leaned into you as he spoke, shoulder brushing against yours, breath washing over your cheek and down your neck. Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the feelings that were trying to spark to life within you. “Are you hungry? The beignets here are wonderful.”

“Oh no, I’ll just get coffee.” There was a tremble to your voice that you couldn’t understand. You didn’t want it there. You wanted to sound cool, calm and confident. There was no reason for Alastor to get to you as much as he did and even less reason to let him find out that he was. 

Alastor stepped up to the counter, keeping his hand on your back. You could swear that you felt it run a little lower down the small of your back as his attention was focused forward. Or was that your imagination? 

“Alastor!” As Alastor reached for the bell, the door to the kitchen burst open in a flurry, a woman with a curly crop of graying hair and rich dark skin carrying a tray of confections. “It’s been a minute since you’ve been around these parts.”

“I drive through these parts every day, Delores.” His voice was different talking with the woman, you realized. The showy transatlantic accent was softer, just a smidge and his words were lighter.

“And now you bring a pretty little thing on your arm? Oh, and she is a darling, isn’t she?” The woman may have been around for a few years but she was as sharp as ever, Alastor was pleased to see. It had been a while since he had stopped in, though as a young man he had frequented this cafe. 

“Oh, thank you, ma’am but-” 

Alastor’s voice cut you off, “Two coffees, Dee?” He held up two fingers as if his order was confusing before pointing at the steaming pastries on the tray. “Those fresh?” 

You could have protested being spoken over but instead simply let his words wash over your ears. It was strange to hear him now, his voice warmer and richer. Whatever this place was to Alastor, it was a place he felt secure enough to just be in, even a little. 

“Of course they’re fresh, boy.” Delores laughed, swatting Alastor’s shoulder with a towel. “Ya want some too?” 

“Of course,” Alastor laughed and it was lighter, “Two?” 

“One for you and one for your lady.” Dolores made quick work of setting the tray down and putting pastries in baskets. 

Alastor pulled the coins you had given him from his pocket and set them on the counter as Dolores worked. His hand dropped from your back as he pulled the wallet from his pocket. From his wallet he added a few more pennies and you realized with a flash of annoyance that he was paying for you both and using the coins you had given him to even your debt to do so. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” you rushed to grab your own coin purse. He didn’t wait for you in the slightest as he pushed the coins across the counter, ignoring your attempts to cover your half. 

“That was supposed to pay you back.” You protested as Delores took the coins, eyebrow raised and a slight smile on her face. She told you both to go sit down and wait rather than do anything to allow you a moment to cover your share of the bill. “Now I owe you again.” 

Alastor guided you, soft pressure on your lower back constantly keeping you connected to him as he led you away from the counter. You wanted to argue, to continue to protest but what good would it do? All it would do is cause a scene.

“Oh, no.” Alastor pulled out a chair for you, finally letting his hand drop from your back. He grinned at you, eyes dancing with mirth as you sat in the chair. “Whatever will we do. I guess that just means you’ll have to see me again.” 

“Alastor?” You wanted to ask him what game it was that he was playing. You wanted to ask him if he knew how he was acting. Did he know the way it looked? Any of the people here could look at the two of you and see you as a couple. He made it so easy for anyone to assume you belonged to him. Did he care at all about that? Did he care how the idea tried to worm its way into your heart? 

“What’s on your mind, dear?” Alastor’s warm brown eyes looked into you from across the table. In another lifetime, maybe this could have been your life. In another lifetime, maybe what everyone saw looking at the two of you could be true. 

“You know, Al-” Delores came up to the table, drawing attention before you had a chance to make a fool of yourself in the moment. She carried two mugs, hanging off her fingers with practiced expertise, a pot of coffee and two plates with beignets covered in powdered sugar in her other hand. “You two make a handsome couple. She’s a bit bright, you know, and well dressed but she must not be too bad if you got her on your arm.”

“Oh,” a flush climbed up your neck and face as you realized the misunderstanding. 

“You know, your dear Ma would be proud to know you finally married.” Dolores was all but beaming with pride at Alastor as she filled the coffee mugs. 

Oh. It was worse than you thought. 

You blanched, looking to Alastor with panic in your eyes. This had to be explained, corrected, somehow but you were at a loss how. Anyone could overhear such a bold statement and it could get around town. If you told the truth, right here and now to this kind woman, wouldn’t that look too much like an affair? 

“We’re only friends, Dee.” Alastor said with ease, as if he wasn’t digging your grave. 

“That so?” The older woman looked pointedly at the ring on your hand. Her eyes on it made the band feel more and more like a shackle as you covered it with your other hand. “Well, we’re not ones to talk around here, missy. What you two get up to and your so called friendship is between you and the Good Lord Above.” She flicked her hand up, waving away some unseen force for emphasis. “We got bigger things to worry about ‘round this neighborhood so don’t you get to fretting.” 

“We’re not-” You tried to protest.

Delores cut you off with a warm smile of her own, “It don’t matter to me. I just want to see that boy not alone for once, even if it’s just for a while.”

“It’s fine,” Alastor said simply as Delores walked off. “She’ll think what she thinks but she’s not one to talk.”

“You know her well?” You refocused your attention on him, only to dart your eyes down. It was too much to meet his gaze. It was easier to take in the scuffed and scratched table top and the swirl of the cream you poured into your mug. 

“Grew up around here.” Alastor had his transatlantic accent once again perfectly in place as he watched you. You could feel the heat of his eyes on you, burning into you. “I know how these people are, no one will talk. Plus, we’re just getting coffee and Mrs. Dee does make the best beignets.” 

“She thinks we’re…” you were scared to even voice what the kindly woman thought. “And that doesn’t bother her? Or you?”

Alastor shrugged and pushed the small plate closer to you. “You should try it, it’s lovely with coffee.” He was silent for a moment, taking a long drink from his still very black mug of coffee before speaking again. “Dee would look the other way if it’s what I wanted. Maybe not approve but she’d look the other way.” 

You ripped off a piece of pastry and shoved it into your mouth. It was the only thing you could think to do to keep words you shouldn’t, couldn’t say from tumbling from your lips. Sweetness exploded on your tastebuds, washed away by bitter coffee as you forced down the question that almost rushed past your lips: did he want that?

It was silly. Pointless. Don’t be a silly woman. You were just getting swept up in a fantasy. He was a friend and that was enough. A friend was more than you could ever dare to have hoped for. There was nothing wrong with having a male friend, you were sure, beyond appearances so why did you feel your heart beating faster? Why did your face flush so easily?  

“Is she close to your mother?” You asked instead, stealing a glance at the woman behind the counter. You had so many questions about her and her connection to your new friend. “You were right, by the way, this is lovely indeed.” 

Alastor’s lips twitched up, mouth opening slightly before closing again as he hesitated. You could see the gears turning in his head as he weighed if he wanted to answer. There were things he held back from people, you could have guessed that. A man like him, walking the line of too dark to be a welcomed member of polite society would have things kept to himself. 

“They were close for as long as I can remember,” he finally said, “Right up until she passed. Dee’s been like an aunt to me, regardless of if I wanted it.” He chuckled though it sounded dry, forced.

“She’s passed?” Reaching out, you rested your hand over his. Though you didn’t know the pain of losing a parent, it was etched on his face. His smile fell for a moment, lips twitching down and his eyebrows furrowed and then the smile he seemed to always wear was back in place. “I’m so sorry.” 

He looked down and a single eyebrow rose as he looked at your much smaller hand atop his. Instantly you realized the move was too much. Reaching out to hold his hand was too forward. That was something limited to female friends, family or your husband. 

You pulled your hand away quickly, as if the touch burned you as you looked away from him. He caught your hand as your fingers dragged down his, preventing you from making any real distance. It was his turn to be forward, weaving his fingers between yours.

“I miss her dearly,” he admitted, “She never stopped pushing me to make something of myself, to not let my blood limit me.” 

“She’d be proud of you,” you had no doubt at all of your words. Alastor’s smile, soft but bright, told you how much such a thought meant to him. 

“For some things.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked as Alastor popped a chunk of sugary beignet into his mouth. You couldn’t help but watch as his mouth worked, sugar dusted on his lips. 

“Not everything I’ve done is things that would have made her proud.” Alastor finally said, washing the sugary treat down with a sip from his mug.

“I can’t imagine the great radio host doing anything that would make his mother feel anything less than pride.” 

Alastor only laughed, a knowing glint in his eye before changing the subject to you and your childhood. As you sat, talking in that dingy cafe one cup of coffee became two, though eventually he did allow you to take your fingers back. 

While he hadn’t been willing to offer much of his life  story, what he would share fascinated you. You couldn’t imagine being raised without both parents with the bayou stretching out behind your home. He had come so far and found himself an informal family to make up for the lack of family connections. 

All the while, he didn’t make you feel ashamed for your much more comfortable upbringing. He listened attentively as you spoke of lessons and expectations that all resulted in your arranged match with the much more well off Laurence.

“If you don’t love him, why did you marry him?” Alastor asked and you were struck by the thought. Never had you questioned if you loved Laurence or not, you just expected that you did because you should and if you didn’t, you would. 

“I- I do love him?” A snort of disapproval came from across the table. “Why wouldn’t I love him? He’s my husband.” 

“If you say so.” Alastor smiled at you like you were the only one not in on the joke. 

“I do say so,” You protested as Alastor stood from the table, offering his hand to assist you out of the chair. It wasn’t needed but you indulged in the chance to touch him again. 

“I’m not sure,” Alastor admitted as his hand took up its guiding presence on your lower back while you walked to the door. “But I’m told love is something magical that can solve the world’s ills and if you have it, even for a moment, you’d risk anything for it. I don’t recall anyone singing the praises of the beatings one delivers on those they love though.”

“Maybe we’ve been told different things” you said, a hollow laugh escaping your lips, the sound shattering like glass in your own ears. “Your idea of love sounds like a child’s story I’ll never get to experience because it’s not real.” 

“Who says you won’t?” Alastor smiled down at you before looking up, focusing on bringing you safely to his car. As promised, he needed to deliver you home before it was too late and he would, though he was far from eager to be rid of your company. 

Oh well, he thought as he settled you into the passenger seat. There would be other times. He would ensure that he got to spend more time with you later. It would just be a matter of time. 

AN2: A note on word choice- I've spent way too much time on 1920's slang and phrases. Calling someone 'bright' in relation to another person was often how one would subtibly remark on differences of skin tone. While this is a Reader insert, by nature of social and class standing, it is needed that reader have some traits to be historically accurate. This is what Dee is remarking on, not Reader's brains.

Next

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

[lemon-russ]

Your lion fic was beautiful. May I request more? Anything will do really. But here are my requests.

Lion angrily jerking it after experiencing one (1) emotion

Lion aggressively cuddling you. You're not hurt or sick or have lost feeling in your lower body temporarily, he just wants to be close to you. And be an ass about it.

You wear his legion colours/symbols and he gets really horny.

40k Lion reminiscing about an old lover from 30k (using that term loosely, they were probably just fuck buddies) and maybe they meet again in 40k. Let's say a perpetual reader.

Anyway these are just my brainworms. Feel free to ignore.

And yes, I am aware I have a thing for stoic men losing it and being absolute freaks. I am currently in search for a good therapist.

Sorry for the delay, but I feel adjacent to a human today, so I finally finished this! Also the way you presented it made me snort laugh haha, the kind message into "angrily jerking it" lmfao

Anyway here's The Lion straight jorkin' it (I like all your suggestions and might come back to the colors one especially!)

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers!

Lion El'Jonson X Fem!Reader

CW: Lion straight up jorkin' it. That's all.

Stupid woman, Lion thought, slamming his chamber doors closed.

He started angrily undoing the belt of his tunic as he marched to his bed, fingers frustratingly fumbling the latch in a hurry.

Stupid, infuriating woman.

Guilliman had sent a representative to give The Lion updates about some missions the Ultramarines had been on, just the average doldrum of war talk. But the representative he sent was his little Ambassador pet.

“My Lord?” You had said, looking up at him between explaining supply lines, “You seem very tired. Did you not rest well?”

He’d been shocked by the simple question. He had indeed been without a proper rest for a bit too long. But, no one ever asked such things about him. He was a god to most baselines, infallible and untiring, beyond mortal needs. But you spent a majority of your time around his brother, so of course you could read him better than a random serf could. And you’d been… concerned. For him.

“Wh- I…” he had stuttered, caught off guard. That annoyed him. Being flustered by a tiny baseline woman’s concern for him annoyed him. The pang of unnameable emotion that shot through him annoyed him. The sudden pulse of pressure below his stomach, especially annoyed him.

“Don’t be daft woman-” he had spat back. You’d just smiled softly at the verbal attack, soft eyes scanning his face, studying the circles forming under his eyes. Then for some warp damned reason, you had gone and made him a cup of recaff. You placed it in front of the flabbergasted Primarch and returned to explaining your papers like nothing had passed.

Stupid woman.

The minute you’d given him a quick aquillan salute and been on your way out the door, He had turned on his heel and stormed off to his quarters, leaving confused serfs in his wake as he pushed them aside, some even falling to the floor. “No one disturb me.” He had growled, stalling their pursuit of him.

He finally pulled his pants down, holding his tunic aside as he knelt on his bed. That feeling that you had invoked in him had shot right between his legs. The whole rest of the meeting, he was struggling to focus on anything but how hard you had made him.

He grasped himself, groaning at the friction at last as he stroked. Your image assaulted his mind. You leaning over the table just enough that he could see down the far too loose tunic dress you wore. He growled remembering that glimpse of your breasts, infuriatingly framed in ultramarine blue. It should have been HIS colors.

He grasped himself tighter as he assailed his aching cock, falling back on his pillows. It should be Dark Angels green you were in. No- it should be nothing at all. You should be naked in his bed. You should be panting in his lap-

His hips bucked himself fruitlessly into his hand at the image. Your sweet face, flush and gasping as you rode him. Did you look at Guilliman the way you’d looked up at him? Did you fetch him drinks when you noticed he was worn? The thought enraged The Lion. How dare you go back to the Macragge’s Honour, back to anywhere but his bed.

He gripped the sheets, yanking at his tunic as he frustratedly picked up speed, ignoring the slight soreness from his calloused palm attacking his cock without anything to help the friction. It wouldn’t be an issue if it was you on him instead. He bet you were plenty slick, and tight-

He felt his balls start to tighten, drawing in a hissing, ragged gasp through grit teeth. His bed creaked with the cadence of his hips jerking up into his fist. You should be here. You should be wrapped around him, holding on for your life as he used you like a cocksleeve- he imagined your small hands splayed over his stomach for balance, trying desperately to hold yourself down against his bouncing.

He fisted his cock faster, frustrated by the sub-par sensation of his own rough skin, barely slicked with his pre-cum as he drove himself forcefully toward an orgasm. He was frustrated he’d immediately given in to such base instincts. He was Frustrated you could drive him to this with one little question, with one sweet look.

His mind flooded with the image of you giving him that little smile, eyes soft and concerned in defiance of his sharp words-

He let out a snarl as the heat in him snapped, shooting his spend over his stomach in jerking pulses. A few more hard pumps on his cock drained him, shuddering and mind blank, before he collapsed back on the bed, legs shaking and ragged gasps wracking his lungs.

He lay panting, covered in his own seed, twitching his hips up in the aftershocks. This was your fault. You stupid, damnable woman.

He groaned and let his arm fall to his side as the sensations eased from his need-drunk mind.

He had a very stern demand to draft. If his brother wanted him to keep playing nice- which he had been, he’d been very cooperative he thought, he earned some credit- If Guilliman wanted Lion to keep his word about their plans and supplies and defenses-

Then the cost was merely one insignificant little diplomat woman.

[lesbianslvt666]

Hey whats up?

You can imagine Ellie sulking because the reader goes to an all-girls sleepover - which she wasn't invited to - and she knows that some gay girls are going to be there and that makes her a little jealous and it only gets worse when she sees the reader wearing a short, tight, sexy nightgown making her horny and then she stops the reader from going to the party with a good fuck? top ellie pleaaase 🥵

Ummm… yes 🫡

Sorry for the delay love.

Cw: smut, 69, softdom!Ellie, pussy eating (both), fingering (r!) idk what else lol

Ellie saw you going from left to right and everywhere in your shared room, looking sometimes down to your wrist watch that she gifted you, just cause you mentioned you liked it.

Her body relaxed against the door frame, her eyes wondering all over your body, scanning all the ways you move underneath the very revealing nightgown, your curves highlighted by the dark and thin material, so sheer she could se your nipples poke thorough.

She was pissed to say the least.

First, your friends make sure to leave very clear that you weren’t allowed to bring Ellie to the sleep over.

Well not really… your friend group consisted of your closest friends, the same group the formed around third grade. you went way back, and for the weekend, all of you were at the same place at the same time, a rare occasion giving the fact that you went to different colleges.

When they organized the sleepover at Dinas house the rules were.

1: bring something to drink, thats why there was a Jose Cuervo bottle in your bag.

2: bring something to eat. Thats why there was an apple pie chilling in the kitchen, the house smelled amazing.

3: bring something to share. They really meant something to gossip about, but you had nothing on your plate so you took your can filled weed and a pretty pipe, some cigarettes too.

And last but no least.

No. Plus. Ones.

Only the og’s could be there.

At first to Ellie the plan seemed cute, how long have you guys met, how much you still loved one another.

Until she realized half your friend group is gay, her eyes opened wide. “Babe, you cannot go! There is gonna be gay girls there!” Her voice lowered like she was telling you a secrete and that made you laugh very hard.

Since then she has been trying to convince you not to go. Helping you do extra chores, fixing things around your shared apartment (that you had asked for her help and she was putting them off), bringing you flowers (which wasn’t anything new since she loved to bring you flowers)

Hell she even tried to call your brother for extra help!

Nothing worked.

you missed your friends and you wanted to be there with them, you knew the “gay girls” were no threat to your love for Ellie, they were basically your sisters!

But Ellie was so stubborn, you explained her every single time that she had nothing to worry about, not in the slightest!

And she was about to drop it, until now.

When she entered the room after you asked her to please take the pie off the oven, you had just came out of the shower and she had nothing else to do for the day.

After putting the pie on the counter and making sure the oven was off she walked to you room, messy clothes all over the floor and your hurried form running around it.

Her eyes went dark, lust filled eyes mixed with anger.

“Nothing to worry about? Looking like that?” She was walking up to you slowly, almost careful.

“Is it too much? I bought it and haven’t used it before, thought it was a good idea..” your voice trailed off when she grabbed you harshly by your hips.

Long fingers closing harshly at the plush skin.

“Please ill do whatever, whatever you want, just… let me…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, mouth connecting to your neck, you just looked like a goddess and she couldn’t resist to plead to you.

Knees falling carelessly on the ground, her hands going up and down your bare legs. Her pretty eyes looking from your sinful ones to your delicious core.

She felt delirious, exhausted on the feeling of not having you.

You couldn’t deny her when she looked up at you like that, pretty sprawled legs wanting to close for friction but she wouldn’t.

She knew you liked the view, and so she gave you more.

She peeled her hands, pain struck her cunt. Fingers grabbing the bottom of her tank top and pulling it off her body.

Her tits perking with the cold air of the room and you felt like you were gonna faint.

Her fingertips graced your skin, finally touching you again, no care where she was touching she just needed to be in contact with you.

Your mind was clouded on Ellie, lust filled senses and no other thought but to have her, you needed her.

She tried to stand up but you grabbed a bunch of her hair, she let out a groan as you pull her back down.

Acting like you could have racional thoughts at this moment you looked down to your wrist, pretending to read the time. “I am gonna be late for-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence with her lips latching on your thighs.

Marking and sucking as much as she could, she needed every person in the world to know you were hers.

“Please baby, please, let me taste you, stay the night with me…” she was shifting squirming while pleading you, and how could you not answer to her prayers…

Your hand tangled on her hair pushed her all the way in, lips like feathers tickling you lips covered by a pretty pair of panties than matched the night gown.

She moaned at the sight of your pretty lips tight on your panties, creamy anticipation leaving a wet spot on the fabric, she kissed one time thinking she could go slow with you.

But she couldn’t resist.

Her plump lips wet with your milky essence and she was done for.

Open mouth latching on your pussy, her hot tongue pressing around and sucking at it, but it wasn’t enough.

She hooked one of her fingers on your waist line, looking up at you but before she could ask for permission you spoke.

“Go on baby, please eat me, touch me. Fuck-“

Moany mess under her mouth now latched to your pussy, tongue circling your clit while she humped on the air.

So wet there was a spot forming on her gray sweats.

“Ellie, baby…” your voice was followed by your hand pulling her off your cunt, a desperate groan falling from her lips and you kneeled down to kiss her, she tried to pull you in, but you resisted.

You had a plan.

And she knew. Standing up she took you under your legs, you naturally jumped on her, intertwining your legs at her waist.

She kissed your neck leaving marks and kisses.

Putting you down on the bed while kneeling between your legs.

She looked down at you now, and anger seeped mixing with her lust.

“You slut… you were really gonna go almost naked to a sleep over with you “friends”?” Her voice lowered, you almost closed your legs together, her voice sending waves of heat down to your cunt and it made you buckle up your hips trying to reach her.

“No, ill give you what i want and you are gonna take it okay?” She said with one hand moving to your wrists, keeping them up and kissing you harshly, her demeanor changing.

Her movements were fast, mouth sucking on your tongue, her hips humping on to you and you felt like you were going crazy.

Rough fingers falling to your cunt, inserting the middle one without previous notice.

Spongy walls clenching around her.

And like something snapped on her mind she stopped.

Taking her sweats and boxers off with a swift motion she propped herself on top of you, body facing yours.

Her cunt right on top of your face.

“You are gonna eat me until i tell you to stop” your hands sneakered on her legs, like snakes bringing her closer to your face, she didn’t waste no time to use your pretty mouth to please herself.

Your legs spread on the bed while you squirmed, her cream all over your face and her moans made you almost cum.

She couldn’t resist, the way she could see the glistening wetness pooling on your precious cunt.

One hand fell to your pretty pussy, spreading your lips to watch you, flushed and hot cunt pulsating and gushing for her, you were torturous, her body falling forward while you ate her like a starved woman.

Her lips connected to your cunt again, she was unable to refrain from being there, you were magnetic, and she loved the way you taste.

I was gonna continue this but i hit writers block again :)) gonna go insane.

[iambilliejeanok]

To my lovely mutual and dear friend @smutteedreams 🩷 this one’s for you hun! Happy Brithday!🤗🩷

Birthday sex

Toji x reader

Warnings: 18+, rough sex, overstimulation, dacryphillia, cunillingus, vaginal and anal fingering lol, hardcore penetration

It was a little after 11pm in the evening, you were seated in the chair at the head of your small dining table, resting your face in the palms of your hands as you admiringly watched Toji light up the last candle on the pretty, floral cake with a few strawberries decorating the top, the sight of them along with your sexy boyfriend standing beside you making your mouth water.

“Happy birthday sexy”, he said, noticing the lustful look in your eyes, leaning closer to place a kiss on your lips. “Are you gonna make a wish?”, he asked, rubbing his cheek against yours like he normally did when he was feeling clingy, your hand immediately finding its place on his head, lightly scratching his scalp as you hummed loudly, wondering what you should wish for.

“Well”, you said, “Mmhm?”, Toji egged, separating from your cheek for just a moment to plant a few kisses on your face, making you giggle. “I wish…”, you began, delaying your words to tease him, walking your fingers up his tummy before spreading your hand out over his broad, muscular chest, “…that you’d fuck me right here, on this table, next to my birthday cake”, you giggled, gently squeezing his tit, Toji instantly straightening up, his tall frame towering over you. He slowly ran his fingers through your hair, “Well, luckily for you, I can actually make that wish come true”, he said, gripping your hair and roughly tugging your head back, making you moan out in pain. He reached for a strawberry, picking it off the cake before bringing it to your lips, tracing it along your bottom lip, covering it with cream, refraining for popping it in your mouth just yet, your tongue following after it to lick up the delicious cream. “But can you make all my wishes come true?”, you asked, your eyes droopy with lust, bringing your hands up to palm your breasts through your floral dress. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re not gonna wanna make another wish for a while baby girl”, he teased, finally popping the strawberry between your lips, mesmerized by the way you slowly bit down on it, the juices wetting your lips as you tore it apart, his eyes burning into yours, filled with passion. He lifted up the remaining piece to his lips, before tossing the stem on the cake, carefully pushing it further up the table.

Using the grip he had on your hair, he lifted you up, forcing you to move along with him, before turning you around and lifting you up with his hands on your waist to sit you on the table. “You’re tempting me with that look on your face”, he said, his hands already working on ridding you of the floral sundress you wore, pulling down the straps of the dress and your bra at the same time, your boobs springing free, Toji immediately cupping them in his large hands. “I’ve been so good all day long though”, you moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. “I can’t hold back anymore”.

Carefully, Toji pushed you down to the table, grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him, until your butt was on the edge. You felt his growing erection pressing into your clothed cunt as he leaned forwards, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss, moaning as he trailed his tongue over your bottom lip, nipping it before sucking, shoving his tongue inside your mouth just how you liked it, enjoying the taste of strawberries on his tongue as you greedily sucked on it. Slowly separating from you, you were both gasping for air, Toji immediately biting the nape of your neck, licking the area he bit to sooth the sting. He trailed his kisses downwards, reaching for your arms and pinning them down on either side of you when he got to your breasts.

He just loved the sight of your big, juicy mounds, his mouth watering over the thought of your erect nipples melting in his mouth, goosebumps decorating the outer edge of your areola forcing him to lick his lips. He decided to indulge himself, tracing his tongue around your areola, in slow, wet circles, your back arching off the table in want, but Toji only continued to tease you, circling his tongue closer and closer to your nipple, making you pant at the thought of his tongue finally touching your nipple, but to your utter disappointment, he switched to your untouched breast repeating the circling of his tongue on your areola, drawing closer and closer stopping just before he reached your nipple. You couldn’t help the tiny whine that left your lips, lifting your head up to see what he was up to. He started sucking and nipping your breasts, sucking up as much as he could and biting, leaving small hickies as he ravaged them, leaving your nipples untouched. “Babyyy”, you whined, enjoying the feel of his mouth on you, but your nipples being neglected really bothered you. “What?”, he asked with his mouth full of your tit. “Please?”, you asked, and he smiled, knowing just what you wanted. “Only because it’s your birthday” he replied, grabbing your breasts and squishing them together, finally flicking his tongue against one perky bud. Gasping at the delicious tingles his actions sent to your puss, you arched your back in hopes of receiving more, but Toji’s weight forced you back down, torturing your poor nips with flicks of his tongue, his warm breath fanning over them adding to the wonderful sensations. And just before you opened your mouth to beg for more, he closed his mouth on one, forcing you to moan loudly as he sucked hard, but the pleasure didn’t last long as he left it with a pop, quickly treating your other nipple the same, sucking hard before he nipped it, sucking the other one before nipping it again, switching between the two as he nipped away, your body squirming beneath him while you whimpered at the mixture of pain and pleasure his teeth and tongue caused you.

He wouldn’t stop alternating between the two nipples, switching between sucking and nipping, your body finally shuddering beneath him, your hands pinned down to your sides, leaving you helpless against his assault. “Toji babe!”, you moaned, your boyfriend finally releasing you, your hands immediately cupping your boobs to sooth your tender nipples, while his were already working on ridding you of your panties, easily lifting your ass up and tugging them down to your knees, keeping your thighs shut together as he pushed them down until they were in your face, obscuring your view. He grew a little excited at the smell of your dripping wet sex, watching your juices seep down to the crack of your ass, your arousal smudged across your thighs. Your pussy looked so pretty like this, Toji purposefully taking his time, licking the sticky fluids around your thighs, so close to your vulva, but he didn’t dare touch you, licking up every last drop of the mess your arousal caused. He began nipping the skin in the junction of your thighs and pussy, licking right after, every bite making you jump as you were sensitive in that area, Toji loving your reaction as he greedily nipped away. “Toji!” You cried out, desperately wanting him to put his mouth on you. “Okay okay”, he chuckled, finally burying his face where you needed it most, keeping your thighs shut together as his tongue forced its way between your lips, digging in between your folds to drink up more of your arousal, forcing his tongue inside of you, moaning at the feel of your grip around it.

You didn’t expect the soft penetration of his tongue inside of you, but the wet muscle definitely soothed your ache to an extent as he swirled it inside of you, bobbing his head up and down to fuck you with it, failing to hold back his short laughter over your needy moans. Lifting his head up he smacked your pussy hard, but considering the position he kept you in, you couldn’t do much about the sting, only whimpering in shock. “Tehehe, calm down girl, I’m not going anywhere”, he chuckled, smacking you again, and again, and again, finally forcing you try and stop him with your own hands, but he quickly smacked yours away, suddenly burying two of his fingers all the way inside of you, and of course you had to scream in surprise, Toji quickly positioning himself to hold you down properly, preparing himself to keep you still so he could finger you to his hearts content. And of course you immediately began screaming, his fingers curled as he mercilessly dragged them in and out of you, your juices already gushing and splattering against his face and shirt , your thighs and ass, an evil smirk you couldn’t see on his face, knowing he wasn’t ready to stop anytime soon, excited to hear you scream and try to fight him. Your orgasm wouldn’t end, not while he kept going, totally undisturbed by your violent jolting as he held you down perfectly, biting his lip at the sting of your nails clawing his back and arms, your attempts at pushing his head away futile. His smile grew wider when he saw you squirt again, “Yes baby, don’t fucking stop”, he growled your body being forced to give in to the intense orgasm that grew impossibly stronger with every passing second. “Tojjiiiii!!!! f-f-ffuuuuccckk!!”, you cried out, Toji finally pulling his fingers all they way out of you.

“Poor baby”, he spoke to himself, now tracing those same soaking wet fingers around your anus, yet you were oblivious to what he was trying to do, still helplessly cumming, gripping his shirt hard. He began pushing his fingers inside your rectum, this hole much tighter than your pussy, squeezing his fingers as he shoved them in deeper, surprised by how easy he managed to sink them in. Now lost in his own little world, this became another little game to him, Toji beginning to move his fingers, curling them to massage the walls of your rectum, the sensation so much different, less intense but it still felt incredibly good, or maybe it’s because you were still so sensitive that it felt this amazing, and also because you knew just where Toji could take you with his fingers up your ass, all you could do now was accept your fate, your fingers going numb as still managed to grip his shirt tightly, your toes spread wide as your eyes began rolling to the back of your head. The sounds you made would’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t totally drunk on pleasure, but you had your idiot boyfriend to remind you of what animal you sounded like with his imitations of your moans as soon as you recovered. He could be a total prick sometimes, like he was now, forcing his tongue in between your folds once again, finding your clit to swirl his tongue around it, softly sucking while he continued fingering your ass, and another orgasm immediately wrecked you, liquid shooting out of you so hard, even your dog of a boyfriend couldn’t keep it all in his mouth. You could barely breathe, screaming through gritted teeth as you tried to take it all, lacking the strength or mental resolve to fight him off of you, wondering if he knew you were losing your breath at this point. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d make you pass out anyways. But to your surprise, he stopped, standing up and quickly picking you up to hold you tight against him, not wanting you to hurt yourself on the table as you wildly thrashed in his hold. You still couldn’t talk, only moaning through gritted teeth as you tried to calm yourself, wrapping your arms around him and clawing at his back. “Shhhh, there there angel…the birthday fairy has delivered huh?”, he laughed to himself, and you managed to sober up enough to curse him off. “Oh so this what I get for spoiling you on your birthday?”, he mused, rubbing your back while he slowly walked with you to the couch, gently placing you on it, flipping you over and tugging on your hips to put you on all fours. You still shivered as you adjusted to your new position, wondering how on earth you’d be able to survive a fucking down at the moment, but your pussy told you you wanted this, it told you you needed this, encouraging you to arch your back for him, Toji snickering as he prepared himself behind you. “You’re such a slut”, he commented, “Ahh, my fucking gorgeous little slut huh? Do you realize the situation you’re in? Or are you already to dumb to understand?”, he continued, smacking your ass hard, your thighs shivering between his legs, reaching into his pant to free his raging erection, urged by his desire to relieve his own painful hard on by stuffing you up, slowly burying himself inside of you. Your mouth hung open as you felt him stretch you, but you still pushed yourself back against him, your tight, hot, wet cunt greedily sucking him in deeper, forcing you both to moan.

Placing his hands on your back, he tried to deepen your arch, ignoring your whimpers as he began moving his hips, fucking you at his own leisure, going in far too deep with every thrust, your body already squirming beneath him, Toji reaching one hand to grab your neck, forcing you to remain in position as he slowly fucked you. Your moans were desperate, bordering on screams as you endured each and every single thrust, until you couldn’t anymore, falling flat to your stomach as you squirted on him, violently shivering on the couch. Wrapping an arm around your shaky self, he lifted you up to your knees again, placing his hand on your back to force you arch once more, and you couldn’t help but cry, feeling him burying himself so deep inside of you, you were sure you’d lose your mind. Without waiting for even a second, he began drilling you hard, ignoring your cries and pleas for mercy, forcing you to cum over and over again.

It wasn’t until he came twice that he finally let you go. Your entire body buzzing with a numbness that left you feeling paralyzed. You felt nauseous as you recovered in his arms, your eyes shut tight as Toji plated kisses all over your face, cradling you in his arms, holding you close, suspecting that you were truly fucked out. He held a damp cloth in his hand that he went to fetch as soon as he recovered from his own orgasm, gently wiping the mess he made between your legs, pausing every time you jumped while he wiped. “Shhh, please breathe baby, you’re not dying I promise”, he said, wondering if you could even hear him, your eyes still shut tight and your body limp in his hold. Reaching for the throw blanket on the floor, he covered you with it, leaning back into the couch to snuggle with you. “What a fucking crybaby”, he mumbled to himself , keeping an eye on you as he cradled you in his arms.

[cyberrose2001]

[Not a request!] [NSFW!] [Very long!]

I rewatched all of the Bayverse movies and I almost forgot how unbelievably hot Bay!Optimus is, esp AOE Optimus. 😩 So have this horny thought! (Just a heads up, Reader DOES fuck herself with a seatbelt and a gearshifter! Non-robo-fuckers beware!)

You and Optimus are stuck in gridlock traffic, trying to rendezvous with the other Autobots. He can't transform and get out of there, and you two are stuck stuck. Alone. Just the two of you. And he can't move or do anything to compromise his cover... 😈

You start slow, squirming and writhing, pinching your thighs together, rubbing your now dripping pussy against the seat. You can tell by the stutters of his engine that he has most definitely noticed, he just hasn't said anything. Yet.

You lean back in your seat and run your hands delicately over the armrest on the door. As you do, your other hand disappears down your pants. Still, nothing from your only audience member.

You continue your show, but the moment you let out a moan or whimper, Optimus suddenly tightens his seatbelt against you.

"What are you doing?" He finally asks, unable to help himself.

You look down at the dashboard and see his engine temperature steadily rising. The windows have fogged over despite the AC on full blast. It feels much more... private now... 😈😈😈

"Just trying to kill some time. Not like we're going anywhere anytime soon." You reply impishly. Then you're moving to take off your clothes, a true feat when your seatbelt is practically gluing you to the seat.

"There are humans close by..." He protests weakly.

Laughing, you bring your knees up and spread your legs. "Is that the best you have?"

You begin massaging your pussy, breathing heavily against your seatbelt. His engine stutters and almost stalls, and you can tell he desperately wants to transform and stretch you on his spike. Alas, he can't blow his cover.

You milk it for all it's worth, constantly changing positions to give him a view from all angles, going fast then slow, saying the filthiest things, and smearing your juices all over yourself and the seat.

You're perfectly content with teasing him until the cows come home, but then your seatbelt comes flying off and moves to capture one of your arms. By now you were laying across the bench seat, face down as you fingered yourself. Another seatbelt came to grab your other arm. And then a third seatbelt-

"Oh fuck!" You cry as something cold and hard slaps your pussy. You almost let out a sob when it strikes against your ass.

The seatbelt is relentless in its torment, smacking your lower half until there are angry square marks covering your skin and the metal of the buckle is warm. Your legs are shivering with the effort to not come undone.

There's a bit of movement in traffic, but it's only a few yards until you're stopped again. Watching the bulbous knob of his gearshift move gave you the most wicked idea yet.

"You're gonna pay for these." You threaten, pointing to the marks on your poor cheeks.

Optimus chuckles, making the whole cabin rumble. "How so?"

You pick yourself up and move over to the gearshifter, turning around so that your hands are on the seat, and lower yourself. It stretches you wide, but you keep going. You're desperate for release now.

Optimus accidentally honks his horn. "No, wait-!"

You let out a cry and you pump the bulbous knob in and out of you, squeezing it for all it's worth. Optimus' entire frame is rumbling now, deeper and more violently than when he was laughing. You finally find a rhythm and spew the nastiest, filthiest words. Every time you go down, you take a little more of the long handle. By the time you're about to cum, it's fully rearranging your guts.

Cars behind you are honking. Traffic has moved, but Optimus, too preoccupied with the human impaling herself on his gearshifter, has not. Trying his best to not cause any further delay, Optimus shifts gears and rolls forward. The shifter is pulled back towards the seats, and you swear you can see it bulging through your stomach.

You see stars as you cum, tears rolling down your face as you continue speaking filth. As he comes to a stop once more, the shifter goes back and you swear the scream you let out isn't human. There's a great shudder from Optimus, he rolls coal as something that suspiciously looks like transfluid leaks from underneath him.

Panting as you crawl back onto your seat, your body feels loose and floppy. "I didn't know your gearshifter would be a sensitive body part."

Optimus' voice is deeper and raspier than normal when he replies, "I... did not either."

(I understand that this ask is trash, filth, and trashy filth, so feel free to delete this ask if it's too much lmaooo.)

-🧚‍♀️🦋

Oh my god, this is so fucking hot

My favourite part is when Optimus has to shift his gearstick while its inside reader 🫣 thats something I don't think I've seen yet and that I'll need more of

Awesome work!! thank you for sharing <3

[merv606]

Any thoughts on Terry being truly scared that he could have lost Daniel (supposing that Daniel was stabbed instead) and he goes to the hospital while Daniel recovers. Danny is surprised at how…soft and gentle Terry is with him, treating him like glass, and realizes that Terry was terrified of losing him.

I’ll try to answer this without having the fill by @thereminwriting influence me too much but I am going to take the idea of Terry being the one who saved him because it adds another layer of 🌶️ to the whole fucked up situation. There may be some overlap with Mercy but, with Silverusso there always is, as the themes with them are always the same.

Link below for her take - a suggestion to read it as it’s brilliant! It will live rent free.

What this ask inspired, while I feel hits some points made in the ask it may ultimately fail to hit the mark for exactly what you were looking for.

“You think you’d be grateful, is all,” Terry says, picking at some imaginary lint on the bed, which is not there. They both know that. The place is pristine, more high end hotel than hospital. The thread count on the bedsheets has to be higher than what he has at home, and he is an admitted snob when it comes to his night time comforts.

“Gratitude?” Daniel says slowly, like he’s both processing what Terry said and also surprised he’d even say it.

If it wasn’t for the dull ache in his side, the way he can feel the stitches and staples pull when he moves he’d do something stupid. As it were though.

“Gratitude, gratitude,” his voice rising, and then suddenly Daniel just deflates, that little bit of anger burning through the little energy he has built up.

That scared Terry more than anything. His boy’s fire was always so bright, so warm to bask in, so strong and big, despite the small frame it lived inside. That was why it came out so often, too big for it’s confines, never truly able to be contained at all times.

A fire that drew Terry to it like a moth to a flame, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it’s seductive allure. Helpless in the knowledge that like the moth stunned and destroyed by the light it sought, he too would die by it’s heat.

He could’ve think of a better way to go though.

Softly, “it’s just another cage, Terry.”

“Never pegged you as the religious type,” Terry says after a few long moments.

He’s not, not really. He goes through the rituals of it - mass on Christmas Eve - stopping only when his kids got older and Amanda admitted she was only going for him, and he had to admit he really didn’t know why he did, except that he did when he was a kid.

Daniel looks at the keychain’s pendant in his hand, the keychain having been ripped off and stretched to pick the lock of the cage, and he hadn’t even realized, at the time when he bought it what it was, he had simply handed the kid over some money.

He only kept it because he considered it a lucky charm of sorts considering, what it saved him from - that belief was cemented by the fact it was in the pockets of the leggings he wore under his GI when this happened.

A coincidence, he’s sure, but still, he thinks he needs all the help he can get. He’s probably in the most danger right now, after all.

It had been placed on the bedside table, and it was one of the first things he saw when he woke, and when he groggily reached for it, Terry had stilled him, telling him not to move, placing it the palm of his hand.

Here now, he turns it over in his hand.

Even you can’t save me now, Daniel thinks.

Sitting in a hospital paid for by Terry - his life forfeit it wasn’t for Terry.

His life forfeit all the same.

All the same.

More like delayed, all things considered.

Because now he owes Terry.

He owes Terry a debt he cannot possibly repay.

He wonders how Terry will try to collect; what he stands to gain.

“I must say, I was surprised to learn of your skills.”

“I’m from jersey,” Daniel answers absently. “Of course I know how to pick locks.”

Terry chuckles but then the doctor comes in and like always, Daniel is not made privy to the decisions. Everything in Terry’s hands which, as much as he hates that, they have proved to be quite capable.

He’s alive because of them.

——————————

When a few weeks have passed, he finally gathers the courage to watch the video, and for the first time he sees Terry, how he was saved, how calm Terry was, how efficient, how …. Not what Daniel expected.

He doesn’t know what to feel, not only about watching himself get hurt but about Terry. The feed had cut rather quickly all the same. He doesn’t know why, but he hits replay.

Terry comes in, and freezes, grabbing the tablet from Daniel, shattering it against the wall. A nurse rushes in, and Terry barks something to her as he strides out, and after she cleans the mess, she injects something into his IV bag. He doesn’t bother asking, they never tell him.

Terry finally reappears as the drugs settle through him. Daniel can feel them as they move through his blood, dulling everything further, the pain never truly gone, leaving behind heavy limbs and bad coordination, but a sense of peace even as he feels the bed dip and Terry’s side press flush to his. Daniel goes slack against the older man, his weight fully pressed against him until Terry is the very thing holding him up.

Terry puts Daniel’s hand in his, the only apology he’ll get for the outburst, the thumb rubbing the skin.

“My team will have it removed,” Terry explains, like they do anytime a new one pops up, and although Terry knows he can’t get rid of it entirely, it helps. Having something he can control.

Daniel, after all, makes him feel so out of control.

Daniel, after all, had never made him feel so scared.

All the blood that was already blooming out from him on the mat by the time Terry got to him, and it had only taken moments.

The knife - Kreese’s knife - embedded deep - and the white of Daniel’s skin as more blood appeared, watching life drain out of him right before his eyes.

Something that only hit Terry after. Terry only allowing it to hit him after, needing to, in that moment, focus on saving Daniel.

Not willing to accept anything else.

You can lose something you never really had.

But Daniel will be now. Something he has. Finally. And Terry will be damned if he’ll lose it.

———————————

“I can’t believe you put me in a dog cage,” Daniel grumbles as he eats his steak and buttered lobster.

Well he can, but a part of him can’t - won’t - examine it too closely. The same coping mechanism he’s been using when it comes to Terry for thirty years now. It mostly proves successful,

“Danny,” he starts.

“Thought that would, what? Make me submit? Like before.”

A deep sigh, and really Terry has no right sound that put upon.

He wasn’t the one locked in a dog cage.

“Of course you would see it like that.” Both exasperated yet fond.

“How should I see it?!”

At first you would think humiliation, and Terry’s attempt to install fear in Daniel - the same fear Terry felt but, that wasn’t it - not at all.

Nothing could be further for the truth.

It was protection.

Cages keep things in, but they also keep them out.

They keep things safe.

They keep them from leaving.

He actually hadn’t wanted Daniel to wake up until reaching the desired destination.

“I fear cages,” Terry starts but stops, not sure what to say, off kilter in a way only Daniel manages to do to him.

“Why do you fear cages?”

The story pours out, and Daniel sits, stunned.

He had no idea. At all.

Terry’s loyalty to Kreese makes so much sense now. As does their falling out. Which has hardened into hate since the accident.

Part of Terry blames Kreese.

It was his knife after all.

“He always tries to destroy the good things in my life.”

It not only makes sense but Daniel realizes, with a clarity he wouldn’t before, as he too carries that same burden now. Carries the same mixed feelings about being indebted to someone you do not wish to be indebted to.

An understanding, a part of him connected to Terry.

A part of himself that will never belong to him again.

———————————-

He protested in the beginning, Terry helping him change, but now he doesn’t; there would be no point.

He winces, the scar twisting, so new it’s still more deep purple, the skin too tight from where he was sewed and stitched back together.

Terry frowns, his hand touching it, and Daniel flinches; he can’t help it. Even he doesn’t even like touching it himself

It feels wrong - foreign. It feels like a change he didn’t want but will have no choice but to accept.

Isn’t that Terry whoever he comes into Daniel’s life.

It feels like the situation he finds himself in.

It looks ugly, even if he knows in time it will fade to pink and then further still until it’s faded to the point that it nearly matches his skin

He knows he should be grateful to be alive, to be here, even if here is with Terry.

He knows all of this but still, he will carry a piece of this always.

He carrie enough of Terry around with him - he has for thirty years.

The older man’s fingers are so damm gentle as they trace the new skin forming, solidifying into something permanent.

Everything about Terry has been so damm gentle.

All his touches, all the looks directed at Daniel, even when Terry thinks Daniel isn’t paying attention.

Terry helps him into his shirt.

————————————-

“Why?” Daniel asks when he finally gathers the courage. The thing that took him the longest to do.

“I wasn’t about to let you die, Daniel,” Terry nearly scoffs. “I’m not that much of ….”

“I know,” Daniel interrupts.

And he does. Truly. Terry is a Bond villain, and like all Bond villains, he lives to monologue and come up with elaborate plots, plots he knows, deep down, won’t work.

Just like they know Bond will walk away each time, that they want him to, so does Terry.

Because If you really want someone gone, it’s not hard. Simple is best.

If you truly want to win, that is.

But the winning isn’t the point. The end isn’t the point, because it’s not even a journey.

It’s a game, and it’s the fun in playing the game.

But when you take out the opponent, and you win the game, oh how you stop having fun.

Because the opponent was what you actually wanted all along, this game, was the only way to get that.

Something almost ruined this ages old ritual, something the villain hadn’t planned himself, hadn’t even accounted for.

“Why all this?” Daniel gestures around. It certainly is above and beyond. Putting aside the part Daniel can never hope to possibly repay, can’t even begin to, the money alone Terry has spent is astronomical, and shows no signs of stopping. The money Terry has assured Daniel he does not want, nor does he seem to even care about.

They stare at each other.

“I think you know,” is all Terry says, and it’s not cryptic, not at all.

Because Daniel thinks he does too.

Daniel thinks, he always did.

—————-

The plastic surgeon is flown in.

Daniel is fine with the scar.

It’s Terry that hates it.

It reminds him of too much.

The overwhelming fear in the days after, the unbridled anger at it even happening. Something Terry has been felt before.

How he had failed.

How he had almost lost something, that while never was his, was something he had never wanted more.

How he would have lost everything all the same, had Daniel not pulled through.

No.

No part of his boy is to be reminded of this.

No part of him will be marked by any man but Terry.

If his body is to change now, to open and accept anything inside, to be split open, to bleed, it will be by Terry’s doing.

And it will be by pleasure and not pain.

——————————————

The night he wakes to Terry sitting in the side of the hospital bed, everything dark expect for the light of the moon filtering in through the near floor to ceiling windows, is the night he really sees.

The older man’s back is to him, and although everything is silent, eerily so, he can tell Terry is crying.

Daniel sits up, hand holding onto his side, where he thinks it will always twinge slightly, although it’s more a habit now than a need, and the fact that Terry doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t hone in on the fact he’s awake and moving adds to the wrongness of this whole thing.

He gently and slowly lays a hand on the older man’s shoulder, not wanting to spoke him, he’s clearly out of it, and in an even softer tone, the ones he’d use on his kids when they were younger and upset, he asked, “Terry?”

Daniel expects the older man to get up, leave, but instead a large hand comes up and covers him.

They say nothing, but then Terry’s hand squeezes his, and in a broken voice finally speaks.

“I could have lost you.”

Terry made a mistake.

A mistake he can’t fix. - not now. Because he’s in too deep, because he loves Daniel.

And this, this was never the plan, all those years ago. To fall for the boy …. to fall again for the man the boy became.

Because when you love something, you now have something that can destroy you.

Destroy you without even meaning too.

Daniel would have destroyed him, without even trying.

Destroyed Terry in away that he would not have been able to rebuild himself from.

Even a phoenix eventually loses its will to rise again.

A world with Daniel is not one Terry wishes to be in. He tried, for thirty years, and it was no life at all. It certainly wasn’t living.

He got it back though, that feeling of being alive, but oh, what he traded for it. Because now he has this fear, heavy on his chest.

This fear of losing something you cannot replace.

When he looks down, sometimes he can still see the blood on his hands.

“You didn’t though.”

Daniel kneels, his chest to Terry’s back, his head on his shoulder, thin arms wrapped around the older man.

“You saved me.”

He had.

Terry had battled death with his bare hands for Daniel and won. But one day, one day …..

“We saved each other,” is all Terry says, focusing on that to stave off the panic.

“Let’s focus on that,” Daniel says, nuzzling his cheek into his shoulder. Terry can feel the warmth of his breaths gaunt his neck.

Plastered against his back, Daniel moves with Terry almost, to the feel the rise and fall of Terry’s breathing. Terry can feel the beat of Daniel’s heart, they’re pressed so tight.

Concentrating on that. On the moment. On what he can control in the here and now.

The dread subsides, for now, even if Terry knows it has simply retreated.

The moonlight shines down on them, this moment in time, and they stay like that until the sun chases it away, illuminating the sins instead.

———————-

“Oh god,” a breathy little moan, as Terry’s cock slides home, opening Daniel to him.

Four fingers, four of Terry’s thick fingers, and his mouth, had put the time in to get Daniel here like this, body open enough to accept the older man inside him; to accept his love.

Like a virgin on a mound, about to be offered up as sacrifice, this is how he will repay Terry.

Daniel arches up, legs squeezing tighter to the older man’s sides as his eyes squeeze shut, blunt fingernails drawing down a broad pale back.

They’ll both bleed for this tonight.

They’ll always bleed for each other.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Terry groans, and Daniel kisses him, only because he can’t handle much more.

He can’t handle Terry here inside him like this - how good it feels - how right it feels - and hear the raw truth in Terry’s voice.

He can’t.

His body is already the temple Terry is about to worship at - to ruin and rebuild - his body the vessel for this offering of his.

He knows his heart and soul will follow suit. If he was being honest with himself, something he seldom is, they already have.

The older man will accept nothing else. Daniel finds he wants nothing else.

Hands roaming, touching warm sweat slick skin, sharing the air moving between them.

The older man so damn gentle as he keeps sliding in.

Daniel finding within himself, to somehow open more and more, until Terry’s cock is all the way in, both men joined as one.

Terry carving a spot for himself that only he will be able to fill.

Hips snapping in, the wet noises of their coupling, the pin pricks of pleasure when the older man’s cock brushes his prostate, the sharp grin, like a shark sensing blood in the water as Terry concentrates on hitting that spot.

Hands pins above his head, Daniel opening his eyes at the older man’s command, Terry staring down.

“I love you. So much, Danny. So damm much,” he groans, rocking in, burying his face into the smaller man’s neck.

The slapping noise of skin on skin as he’s taken, as Terry chases his release, both of their releases, in each other.

Hands grab slim hips, feeling the bone under his palm, fingers digging in, greedy and covetous, but Daniel can feel the love even if he can also feel the bruises it is leaving.

Love with teeth, it suits them.

Always did.

And a love that leaves marks from those teeth, stained red with blood.

A love that is visible - a mixture of pleasure and pain, sometimes in equal measure.

That is them.

“Oh,” he sobs out as he comes in the space between them, not even a hand on his cock needed.

The clenching of his body, already a tight and perfect fit around Terry’s cock, is the older man’s undoing, and his hand grasps the smaller man’s side, covering the now barely visible scar, as empties himself inside the smaller body.

Daniel’s legs fall off his sides, splayed open obscenely as Terry fills and fills and fills him. He moans softly at the sensation of Terry’s come inside him, which doesn’t seem to be stopping, the warming blooming through him as his hips keep gently fucking in, making sure it’s as deep as it can go, making sure Daniel is even more full than he thought possible.

Finally finished, Terry collapses on top of Daniel, careful as he does though. He’s always careful with his boy, even if sometimes it’s his own personal brand of it.

He doesn’t bother to pull out, loathe to leave Daniel’s body until he absolutely has to, even if he is eager to see the mess he’s left his boy in.

There is always later for that.

They have that luxury of later now.

Who would have thought that here, of all places, a second, third, and fourth chance.

Terry’s lost count.

As many as they need to get it right.

Terry will see to that.