#i just. i feel like fucking tearing everything down and just going away

[k1mbe3rly]

Can you post links.. to Nam-gyu or Sang-woo please.. or to Gi-hun prior to the squidgames. Or can you write Nam-gyu walking in on reader watching porn? Pleasee

Nam gyu walking in on you watching porn

warning; smut, degrading, roommates

You didn’t notice him at first as you were fingering yourself slowly and holding your phone in one hand, your bit your bottom lip a bit as all you could really hear were the moans from the phone and the sound of your hard breathing

Nam gyu enjoys the sight of this, he just smirks and watches for a bit before clearing his throat making you jump and drop your phone as you stared at him in this awkward position before quickly shutting your legs and, cover yourself up with a blanket as you finally sit up, “Umm what the fuck?? do you just not knock no more?!” you told him as he crosses his arms, “I was knocking for like 5 seconds. I guess you couldn’t hear me over those fake ass moans coming from that video.” he said

You were embarrassed as you flushed a bit, “Okay whatever just get the fuck out weirdo.” you spoke back, “Whattt, whyyy i was enjoying this pretty little sight of you” he said smirking, you frowned a bit as he spoke again, “Need some help?” he asked as he walked closer to your bed picking up your phone and closing out the tab than setting it on the nightstand, “Help? what i need is for you to get out!” you spoke again

“Come on don’t be like that” he told you as you pulled down your blankets, you didn’t bother trying to stop him because in reality you were thinking about him while watching those porn videos, the blankets were finally off as your legs were shut, “Open” he commanded as you huffed trying to act like you hated this, you slowly spread your legs as you felt his hands spread them wider, his fingers went to your pussy and rubbed on your folds

You let out a soft moan as he continues rubbing your pussy, his hands going to your clit and rubs on you as he bites his lip watching your reaction, he rubs your pussy and clit for about a minute, he pulls his hand away, “I could do so much better than that guy in the video..want me to prove it?” he spoke to you low and a bit raspy, you nodded at him as he smirks, he pulls down his pants along with his boxers, his cock was already hard as it hits right at his belly button

He crawled ontop of you and settles between your legs spreading your legs a bit wider, “Look at this wet fucking pussy. Hearing you and watching you finger yourself made me so fucking horny baby..” he said as he rubs his tip on your pussy, you arched your back a bit staring up at him, he finally pushes in his tip as you already moaned out a bit feeling your pussy get stretched a bit just by his tip, he groans a bit as he pushed in his whole cock into you with one motion

You whimpered and gasped as he chuckled, he gives you a moment to adjust and once you did everything around you disappeared.

he pounded into you harshly, he grips on your hips keeping you down as he growls and grunts feeling your tight walls clamp on his cock, each thrust slightly faster than the last, he watches your fucked out face, moaning and eyes already slightly teared up, he lifted your legs and threw them over his shoulders, he held onto your ankles as he angled himself deeper, you screamed out in pleasure as the bed creaks a bit

His hard length pounding into that sweet spot making your back arch, your moans got intensely louder, he throws his head back ��Fuckk!! baby take this fucking dick..just like that.” he grunted out, your feet dangling over his shoulders as you moaned his name multiple times

Loud moans and skin slapping filled the room along with his grunts and growls

He leans over kissing your cheek multiple times and sucking on your neck as his hips kept slamming into you, he grips on the sheets next to your head as he bit his lip harshly, his hips never stopping as his cock twitched inside you, the knot in your stomach formed as you even felt your orgasm on the edge of leaking out

“N-nam gyu! i’m gonna cum!” you managed to form out as he grips on the sheets tighter, his teeth sinking deeper into his bottom lip, he somehow managed to go even harsher as you moaned even louder than you already were

It didn’t take long for him to cum as well as you also did, he accidentally let out a moan into your ear, he was too caught up in his high to realize what sound he made as he panted, you let out soft moans, both of your bodies covered in sweat, “Shit..are you alright? did i go too far huh?” he asked you his voice softening, you shaked your head “No..not at all that was perfect.” you told him panting as he formed a small smile and even cleaned both of you.

[sinmartini]

"feels so right but it's just so wrong." // red!clark kent

notes: MDNI 18+ summary: clark kent is usually such a nice guy. what's gotten into him? wc: 1714 warnings: red!clark, face fucking with fingers, implications of oral (m receiving), clark being arrogant, pet names, fem!reader, not proofread.

“You are being so annoying,” Red!Clark told you, rolling his eyes as he tucked himself further into the couch settled in the loft. He had been acting so strange all day, completely unlike the best friend you knew and loved. There was a slight attitude in his tone, irritation radiating off of him, and pelting you with nearly everything that had come out of his mouth. It was almost like you were a human punching bag today; if an unkind thought passed through his head, he was more than willing to say it to you.

“What?” You snapped at him, finally nearing the breaking point. Your eyes pointed up at him, shifting your head in his lap to get a better look at you. It wasn’t uncommon to lay your head on his lap, the rest of your body taking up the other end of the couch. Actually, Clark typically liked it when you two did this together. Even though you were just best friends, there was an intrinsic need for you two to be in touch all the time. Hand holding, platonic cuddling, hugs that lasted a minute too long. Today, though… Today he looked frustrated by the way you were clinging to him, the physical touch he had once loved from you be damned. 

Not only had you just experienced something completely terrible, with Clark swooping in to save you at the last minute yet again, but he was being such a jerk.

“I just never realized how needy and clingy you are. What you did back there was dangerous too. Don’t you have any inkling for self preservation?” Clark’s words were one thing, but his actions were indicative of another as he gently stroked his fingers through your hair. 

Was he wrong? Not really. You were needy and clingy when it came to him, but that’s how it’s always been with the two of you. Hell, he was just as clingy most of the time. That’s what came along with knowing his secret; being one of the only people who actually knew the real Clark Kent. 

“Clark, you know I’d do anything for a story. The Daily Planet isn’t going to promote me if I only write boring headlines. I thought that’s why we work so well together? I can bust a crime ring and you’re always there to swoop in.” You were trying to reason with him now, get to the bottom of what was really going on inside of his head. Ever since this morning, it was like Clark had been stripped from all his inhibitions, most of the qualities that made Clark… Well, Clark, had somehow disappeared.

“Good writers can make a story out of anything,” Clark noted, his fingers still stroking through your hair. “They don’t have to put themselves in constant danger and despair to write a think piece.”

“You don’t think I’m a good writer?” You asked him, trying to lift your head from his thigh, needing to create some space between you and your best friend before he could say something that might kill your spirits all together.

“You could be better,” Clark shrugged, his shoulders lifting and collapsing in one cohesive motion as disinterest flickered across his face. You could tell he was done with the conversation now, dishing out that he didn’t think you were that great at what you do, then ready to move on like you weren’t going to have more questions for him.

It wasn’t often that you cried in front of Clark. On the off chance that you did cry in front of him, it was for good reason, and Clark had never made you cry. Until now. The tears that threatened the corner of your waterline were mortifying, and the more you tried to blink them away, the quicker they began formulating. 

Once more, you tried to move yourself off of his lap, but Clark held you in place. Finally, he looked down at you, his facial expression shifting from disinterest to amusement when he saw the tears spilling down your cheeks. There was no way you could have missed the way his lips curled up, just enough to show he enjoyed the sight of you messy on his lap. And there was absolutely no way to miss the way his eyes shimmered with delight, darkening at the sight of your bottom lip quivering.

“You’re crying? C’mon, it wasn’t that mean,” Clark scoffed as his hand found its way from your hair to your chin, holding your face between his thumb and his forefinger. Vulnerability flooded through you as Clark examined every aspect of your face with such intensity, you wanted to shrink under his gaze.

As you opened your mouth, trying to find the words to let Clark know he had been hurting your feelings all day, it wasn’t just this offhand comment that was contributing to your tears, a small sob released from your chest. The words didn’t come out, only heavier breathing and more tears.

“So fussy,” Clark said, his voice sultry and thick as he gently stroked his pointer finger from your chin to your mouth, placing it between your lips and forcing you to open up. You didn’t know why you were being so compliant with it, but Clark pushed his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, pressing harshly on the middle of  your tongue and you couldn’t help the moan that stirred. “Let me pacify you.”

Your moans were vibrating off of his fingers as he worked them in and out of your mouth, his gaze fixated on you in a way you had never seen before. It wasn’t just lust that filled it eyes; it was carnal desire, like in this moment he needed you as much as you needed him. At least, that is likely what he wanted you to think.

There was something intrinsically hot about the situation as a whole— you laying there, crying on his lap as he hushed you with his fingers in a way that could be written in an erotica book. Nothing about it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong either, and you could tell Clark felt the same way by the tent growing underneath his jeans, the length of him pressing against the seat of his pants.

Your mouth salivated at the thought of it, creating more lubricant to slide his fingers in and out of your mouth. His eyes traveled to where you were looking, curious as to what had stopped your tears in their tracks and distracted you. A chuckle, deep from his chest sounded, as he realized how desperate you were for it. Part of him had to know, this whole time, that you wanted him in a way that was less than platonic, right?

“Feels so right but it’s just so wrong,” Clark said, reading your mind as he pushed his fingers in deeper. The tip of his finger hit your gag reflex, causing your head to lurch, but he pushed you back down in his lap. The disinterest that flooded his features less than five minutes ago had completely evaporated, now replaced with sheer and utter amusement.

You were so wet, it was uncomfortable. Your core was dripping with desire, soaking into your cotton panties and clinging to you just enough to overwhelm you. With furrowed brows, you tried to talk around Clark’s fingers, and that prior expression of annoyance had returned once more.

“You’re not supposed to be talking, bunny, that’s the point of this. I want you to shut up.” Clark moved his fingers against your tongue once more, pressing and pushing on the insides of your cheeks, carefully grazing the gag reflex every so often in a teasing gesture. He couldn’t help but taunt you, just a bit.

You made a muffled noise, a whine mixed with a moan. Even with his fingers in your mouth, you were still being fussy.

“What?” Clark asked, his tone full of mockery as he offered a sympathetic expression that you knew to be just another one of his taunts. If you weren’t so turned on, you would be trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him, but right now you were too blinded by desire to care— even if that meant Clark was going to mock you the entire time. “You want my cock in your mouth instead? Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

Your eyes widened and you frantically nodded around his fingers. He didn’t need to see more before he was unbuttoning his pants as you gently lifted your head to allow him to kick them off.

But as soon as Clark’s pants were off, his expression had shifted completely. The mocking expression was now laced with confusion, the evidence of what you were about to get into pressed against the hem of his boxers. 

It was hard for him to look you in the eyes, and you weren’t sure why the sudden shift in demeanor until he asked you, “can you empty out the pockets of my jeans?”

You moved off the couch, picking up his jeans and shuffling through the pockets, feeling silly with the dried tears on your face and Clark’s seeming lack of interest in you now. In the very bottom of his right pocket, there was one ruby earring. You placed it in your palm, showing it to him and that’s when it hit you both.

“Red kryptonite,” Clark said definitively and you thought you could melt right there. His behavior had a reason behind it, yours was driven by pure desire. “I thought it was a ruby earring. I found it at the Talon and was going to turn it into their lost and found.”

“Oh god,” you said, dropping the earring on the floor of the loft. Your feet were moving down the stairs, bolting for the exit before your brain could catch up with you.

Clark stood at the top of the stairs, his half hard dick still swinging in his boxers, “Wait! Let’s talk about this. Please.”

Slowly, with one hand on the door, you turned around to look at him, avoiding looking below the waist. Maybe you two could work things out. In more ways than one.

[blushsturns]

Cling, whiny Matt who just wants his girlfriends attention so bad

title: down bad

warnings: this work contains graphic content, but it is all consensual! sub!matt, titty play, lots of touching, kissing, unprotected p in v, tons of whining, pure filth.

w/c: 3150

matt was feeling extra clingy today. he knew you had to get ready for work in a couple minutes and he didn’t want you to leave at all. you had a short shift today, but any time spent apart from you made him miss you terribly.

he wrapped his arms around your middle to pull you closer to his body, an attempt to keep you close and secure against his chest so you were locked in his embrace.

“please don’t go, baby. i need you.” matt whined against the nape of your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent and peppering soft kisses against your delicate skin.

you hummed softly at the feeling of his lips against your skin with your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers moving up to tangle through his tousled locks. “baby, you know i have work in an hour.”

“not if you call in sick, mama.” his whiny voice almost made you feel bad, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. he didn’t want you to go and it seemed like he would do everything in his power to make sure you stay right here in his arms with him and not go anywhere.

to be honest, you loved seeing matt like this; clingy, soft, whiny, damn near submissive. it was like you had this powerful capability to make matt feel this way and you loved every second of it.

“matty, you know i can’t do that. they need me, remember?” you ran your fingers through his hair as you stared down at him, your chest pressed up against his to allow a bit of cleavage from your tank top to be visible to his ocean blue eyes.

his eyes scanned down to your chest, his eyes widening in surprise as your pretty plump cleavage is on display for his eyes only. he gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing in the process as his eyes stay fixated on your chest. he fucking loved your tits. he loved playing with them, sucking on them, biting and marking them with little love bites. he could sleep on them all night instead of his pillow if he could.

you watched him stare at you longingly, your lips curving up into a devious smirk. normally this kind of thing would make your body melt and your heart swoon, but when matt was acting clingy, it was hard not to baby him and allow him to fully let his submissive side show.

he looked back up at you and into your eyes with a shy smile evident on his face. “but i need you more, baby. please stay with me?” his words came out of his mouth like a desperate plea, begging you to stay home with him and not go anywhere at all. he moved his hands to grip onto your hips to hold your body in place against him, the pass of his thumbs rubbing smooth, slow circles against your exposed hip bones underneath the fabric of your tank top.

it pulled on your heart strings to hear him beg like this and all because he didn’t want you to leave. a soft sigh emits from your lips before eventually giving in and nodding your head at his question. “okay, i’ll stay with you since you’re so persistent on needing me.” you flashed him a slight smirk, your hand moving away from his hair and down to his cheek, caressing the slight stubble with the pad of your thumb. “my precious boy.”

matt’s cheeks grow warm, a slight pink tint forming against his cheekbones as a wide smile appears onto his face. he pulls you even closer to him, his lips back on your neck as he murmurs his undying gratitude for you, thanking you for staying with him.

with his body so close up against yours, you begin to notice the slight poke pressing against your thigh in between your bodies. you didn’t even have to ask what it was, or take a peak between the both of you. matt was growing hard in the fabric of his sweatpants and boxers and it immediately made heat pool into your tummy at how rapidly it happened.

you moved your hand in between the both of you, your smirk only widening as you immediately grasp onto the hardening bulge in his pants with the palm of your hand. “is this what you meant by needing me, matty?” you quirk your eyebrow up at him, a teasingly sly smirk staying present on your lips.

he nodded his head, his cheeks only growing a darker shade of red and radiating heat as the seconds pass. he bit down onto his bottom lip nervously before back up at you, flashing you a shy smile. “yes, but i also always need you, baby.”

you shake your head in disbelief and click your tongue, a soft laugh emitting from your lips. “kinda pathetic don’t you think? poor baby can’t even spend a couple hours without me and goes hard for me within seconds.” your hand grasps onto his cock in his sweatpants as you begin to palm him through the fabric which causes a low moan to leave his lips.

matt immediately pushes his hips up into the touch of your hand, his breathing beginning to become heavier as the seconds pass by. “mama, please.” he whines out in a desperate plea, his hands moving up your shirt underneath the fabric of your tank top and instantly cups your breasts through the fabric of your bra. his hand tugs your bra down and immediately uses the pads of his thumbs to run across your hardened nipples. “need it.”

his touch made you gasp softly with a shudder running down your spine at the sensation rolling through you. you felt your underwear through your shorts becoming drenched with your own slick arousal, the familiar heat pooling in your tummy. “need what, hm?” you asked him as you look up at him with darkened eyes and lust filling your gaze.

you pulled away only slightly so you can slip your own shirt off and unclasp your bra to get it out of the way, throwing it onto the ground carelessly. he took the initiative to remove his own shirt as well. your breasts press up against his now bare chest, your hand moving back down to grasp his evident hardening cock through the fabric of his sweatpants.

a whiny moan escaped his lips as your hand made contact with his cock once again. what a desperate, needy thing. the tip of his cock was leaking precum and managed to leave a wet spot right in the front of his sweatpants. his cock twitched beneath your hand as you continued to palm him through the fabric, your eyes focusing in on your own movements of your hand against him. the wet spot on his pants was just a reminder of how needy he truly was for you and only made your pussy throb with the thrill of excitement.

“need you, mama. want you to ride me and take full control. please?” he whined out desperately, rutting his hips effortlessly into your hand and let out a hiss through clenched teeth followed by a breathy moan as you squeezed his hardened cock.

it was like it was his body became weightless, or maybe you just somehow gained the amount of strength you needed as you pushed him flat down onto his back and immediately crawled between his legs as you perched yourself up onto your knees. you flashed him a sly smirk, licking over your lips hungrily as you stared him up and down, scanning over his beautiful body in front of you. “such a needy little thing aren’t you, baby?” you cooed teasingly, bringing your fingers up to place underneath the hem of his sweatpants and his boxers to pull them down his legs and off his body.

his hardened, leaking cock immediately sprung free, making your mouth practically water. the tip of his cock was shiny and pink, leaking with precum. you immediately wrapped your fingers around his cock from the base and moving up to his tip, the pad of your thumb running across his leaking tip to smear the precum against his shaft to lather him up.

you brought your thumb up to your own lips and immediately placed it between your lips to get a taste of his sweet, indulgent taste. you moaned at the taste as you flicked your tongue against your thumb to lick it clean. your own pussy throbs in excitement and making your panties soaked from your glistening wet arousal.

he watched you in awe as you seemed to be enjoying yourself fully, sucking on your own thumb with the taste of him on you. you pulled your thumb away from your lips with a sight pop, flashing him a slight smirk. “taste so good for me, baby, but i think we need to see if you can handle this pussy all around your precious, pretty cock. what do you say, hm?” you pulled your shorts and underwear off your body, a slight gasp emitting from your lips from feeling how fucking soaked you are, your glistening wet arousal now on full display.

his eyes scan your body before falling onto your beautiful pussy in front of him, a soft whine leaving his lips. “such a pretty fucking pussy, baby. look at her.” he cooed eagerly as he stared at your dripping center, licking over his own lips hungrily.

you giggle softly, a light pink tint creeps onto your cheeks at his words before moving your body over to his waist to straddle him and immediately began grinding your slick arousal against his groin. the feel of his hardened cock probing at your thigh was driving you insane but you wanted to keep working him up until he was a crying, whiny mess.

your heart was beating rapidly in your chest from the anticipation as you continued to grind your pussy against him, the friction making you moan and allow you to throw your head back against your shoulder. he was enjoying this, using one of his hands to grip your hip and the other to travel down in between your legs to run his middle finger along your glistening wet folds. he groaned as his finger immediately becomes coated with your slick arousal. your eyes fall shut, a soft moan leaving your lips at the feeling of his finger against your soaking wet folds.

he pulls your body closer to him so that your breasts are flush against his chest. matt moves his hand away from your center and brings his finger to your lips which you gladly accept. you grab onto his wrist as his finger slides into your mouth, your tongue rolling along your own slick arousal that coated his finger moaning softly in satisfaction at the taste. he watched you in complete and utter awe, his cock twitching against your thigh in anticipation. you pull his finger out of your mouth with a soft pop sound, flashing him a soft smirk before licking over your own lips to taste your sweet juices. “damn no wonder we make such a hot couple. we both taste good as fuck.”

you leaned down to press your lips against his deeply so he can get a taste of you on your own lips. he moaned into the kiss, kissing you passionately and deeply, full of want and desire. you began to suck onto his bottom lip, your teeth nibbling against his bottom lip as he parts his lips to allow permission for your tongue to slide through. your tongues battle for dominance, both of your combined muffled moans leaving an echo throughout the four walls.

matt moves his hand to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing your hardened nipple in slow circles before tweaking it with his index finger causing a louder moan to escape your lips and your body to grind forward against him. “fuck.” you whisper breathlessly as you pull away from his lips to catch your labored breathing, your forehead resting onto his. “you gonna beg for me, sweet boy?”

he nods his head at your words, his breathing also heavy as he ruts his hips against you, his cock probing against your thigh repeatedly. he groans at the friction, his cock twitching immensely by the second. “need to feel you around me, mama. please. want to feel your tight, soaking wet pussy around my cock. need it so bad, please.” his words spilled out of his mouth as pleas, whines emitting from his lips right after as you immediately grasp onto his aching hard cock and begin aiming it directly to your soaking wet cunt, rubbing his tip up and down against your drooling pussy.

you could continue to tease him a bit more, but your own pussy was throbbing immensely to the point where it felt like complete and utter torture. you decided to give in to his pleas, since they were only turning you on even more. without hesitation, you sink down onto his cock inch by inch until he’s suddenly buried inside of you. your eyes widened in surprise as you get used to the fullness inside of you, a soft moan leaving your lips.

matt immediately throws his head back against the pillow behind him, gripping onto your waist as your legs spread on top of him to straddle him comfortably. “fuck, ma.” he groaned out, his fingers digging into your hip bones causing you to moan out in pleasure, your eyes slipping closed. you lean your head onto your shoulder as you begin to move your hips up and down against him, feeling him slide even deeper inside of you.

your tight walls immediately clench around his thickness as you start to ride him, bouncing up and down onto his cock as you feel his cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “oh fuck, you’re so big aren’t you baby? filling me up so nice and full.” your voice was full of need, desire, lust. his cock felt so good around you, like it was made just for you.

you opened up your eyes to watch him as he laid there and grabbed ahold of your hips to hold you place as you bounced onto his cock, the bed squeaking and the headboard ramming into the wall. he moved his hand up to your chest to grasp onto your breast as they jiggled and bounced around with each and every thrust of your hips. he tweaked and tugged onto your hardened nipple as an enticing moan falls from your lips.

“oh fuck, mama. feel so good.” he moaned out, both of his hands now grabbing ahold of your pretty tits and pulling and tweaking your hardened nipples as you bounce up and down onto his hardened cock causing heat to pool in your tummy and electricity to course through your veins.

you roll your hips against him, stuttering your hips for a moment to feel him slide even deeper inside of you until he begins to hit your g-spot at a rapidly rising pace, a louder moan leaving your lips. “bet you love this don’t you? would’ve missed this tight little pussy if i went to work.” your words come out within breathless gasps, your hands moving to his shoulders to hold yourself up, your blunt fingernails digging into his skin causing him to groan out in pleasure.

he moves his hand to your center, his index and middle finger finding your swollen, soaking wet clit and begins to rub it at a furious pace, making your moans become louder, more erratic. “fuck, matty!” you scream out, throwing your head back while your heart beats rapidly in your chest, sweat glistening across your chest and your forehead.

matt whines as he continues to rub your clit in time with your thrusts, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. “c-can i cum, mama? need to cum.”

you could hear how wet you were, your gummy walls clenching around his cock each and every time you bounced down onto his cock. louder moans escaped your lips, fire coursing throughout your veins. your orgasm was rapidly approaching and you weren’t sure how much longer you were going to last. your fingers digging into his skin as you held onto him while continuing to ride him. you roll your hips along him, feeling his cock sliding in and out of your tight heat. you move your head up to press your lips against his once again, murmuring against them, “yes, baby, you can cum. gonna cum in my tight little pussy baby? you know you want to. come on, be a good boy and fill me up with your cum.”

matt groans out in pure ecstasy, his body shaking against you as he thrusts his hips up into yours several times, his vision going white as he throws his head back to allow a string of profanities and groans to leave his lips. “f-fuck!” he whined out desperately as he begins to fill you up with his cum to the brim, his head lolling to the side as he shakes through his intense orgasm.

“good boy, that’s my good boy. so good for me.” you moan out breathlessly, your body shaking as you feel the same familiar sensation forming in the pit of your tummy. he continued to rub your clit in fast, haste circles while you continue to roll your hips against him. “i’m gonna cum baby.” you groan out your words, rolling your hips along. you feel the pressure snap inside of you and suddenly the pleasure intensifies as your gummy walls clench tightly around his cock, milking him completely and utterly dry.

your vision goes white while your eyes close, your orgasm rolls through you, a string of moans leaves your lips while he rubs your swollen clit to rock you through your intense orgasm.

your body shakes against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold yourself up, your breathing fairly labored as you cling onto him, your glistening skin sticking against his as you hold him tightly. he presses soft kisses to the nape of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, letting out a soft whine while holding your body close. “i’m so glad you stayed home with me today. thank you, my love.”

“you’re just down bad for me aren’t you, baby?” you ask him as you pull away from his neck to flash him a teasing smirk, your fingers moving up to run through his tousled locks.

“mm, always.” he replies with a wide grin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before continuing, “never leave me and this bed.”

you weren’t planning on it. ever.

maybe you were down bad, too.

notes: thank you for the request! send any requests to my inbox! thank you for reading! love you guys.

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-nessa ღ

[bookworrm1999]

A Mark Upon Thee…

18+, Caleb’s name tattooed on MC, first time, dry humping, thigh fucking, tattoos

Words: 2.5k

Caleb pounds you into the mattress because a tattoo of his name on you makes him crazy.

AO3

————————————————————————

Caleb had just brought you back to his home, your things on the floor.

You look around curiously but the house seemed so dull and lifeless.

As if no one lived here at all.

“Do you even live here?”

“I do sometimes, I’m usually on missions, keeping myself busy. Here, give me your hand.”

A bit confused, you give him your hand to hold. He turns you to the door, your back to his chest as he uses your fingertip to add it to the door’s lock.

His breath tickles your neck so you turn your head to look at him a bit.

You hear a sharp inhale from Caleb as he lets go of your hand suddenly.

He lifts a hand towards you neck and brushes some hair back into your bun, his fingertips lingering on the skin behind your left ear.

“What is this?”

Oh, he’s seen it now. After the explosion, you were devastated.

You missed Caleb so much that it was like you were missing a part of your body.

Losing him only made you realize your feelings too late.

As a reminder and a commemoration, you had his name tattooed in calligraphy behind your left ear.

Not many people saw it because your hair usually hid it, it was something usually only for you.

The man you had loved forever enshrined on your body, so that he’d still be with you even after death.

You reach up and lay your hand over his, covering the delicate letters that spelled out Caleb.

A true statement over the claim he had over you.

“I got it after I thought you had died.”

His grip tightens around your fingers still gently laid over your ear.

Heavy breaths made the hairs on your exposed neck stand straight up.

Sending shivers down your spine. He noticed.

Caleb stepped a bit closer, your back barely touching his chest.

The heat radiating from him, the closeness of your bodies, his trembling grasp of your fingers.

The air practically trembled from the energy in the room.

“Why?” He sounds absolutely wrecked, like he had been the one mourning your death all these months.

“I thought I had lost you. You were everything to me and then you were just gone.”

A tear slips from your eye and your chest heaves a bit from the heavy feeling in your heart.

“This was a way to keep you close to me still.”

Caleb lets your fingers go to trace the flowing text, his fingertip going further to glide down your neck.

A heat rose in you and you tried to turn to look at him. His hand stopped you around your waist, his eyes seemingly still drinking in the mark you had made for him.

“Caleb?”

“Do you have any idea what this does to me?”

Well you had an idea of what you’d like it to do to him but the hope of that was small inside you. He had always treated you as a friend but maybe he saw you differently now?

You turned your neck more to glance at his face. The sight of it, it nearly took your breath away.

His eyes dark, pupils dilated, lips pressed together in a thin line, a faint pink flush that traveled from his cheeks to his ears.

Maybe the idea wasn’t so preposterous after all. So you ask a bit slyly

“Oh, do you like it?”

“Like it?” He grunts, catching your eye, giving you a sly smile.

“Oh I more than like it.”

You decided to press him, make the first move in this stalemate. His hand was resting in the curve of your neck and shoulder. Bending your neck to the side a bit, still holding his gaze, you lightly kissed one of his fingers.

Caleb watched you with anticipation, his breath pluming over your exposed neck. Deciding to see how far you can go before he breaks, you reach down with your mouth open and take a finger inside.

His mouth falls open now, eyes going half lidded as he watches you savor his finger like it’s a delicacy.

A low moan escapes him, going straight to your core and igniting the flame.

You bite his finger lightly, swirling your tongue around it, tempting him with where else you could do this.

“Unnngh… haaa… mmm.” Breathy moans escaping his mouth set you on fire.

You arch your back a bit, rubbing your butt into him.

Smiling around his finger with triumph, you felt it, a hard curve nestled neatly into you.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Caleb pushes you into the door, rock hard against you and lifting you to meet him.

Taking his hand away, he returns with his lips, hot and needy against your neck. Trailing open mouthed kisses up to where his name laid upon you.

Trailing his nose up behind the curve of your ear before making his way back down with a hot tongue.

Whimpering at the sensations he was stoking inside you, you ground back into him.

“Caleb please.”

“It’s too late now.”

“No I-“ you gasp as he lifts your hips and tilts them back so that his cock meets your soaked core. “I want this, I need you. Don’t leave me again.”

Caleb groans heavily, leaning against the door and bracing himself with both hands as he grinds into you.

“You don’t know the things you do to me- ugh! Gonna be so good to you baby just- hngh… such a good girl.”

The praise goes straight through you, you reach your hands up to slide over his. Using the additional leverage to continue to grind and soak through his uniform pants.

The white pants did nothing to hide his training cock nor the evidence of your need for him drenched into the fabric.

Every roll slipping against you, your dress that you were now wearing riding up at the hem as it made its way up, now exposing your underwear to him.

The sounds of your frantic embrace squishing, your whimpers, his low moans and the occasional low curse of “oh fuck” espcaping his lips.

The impending wave was cresting inside you as his cock started to slip and slide through the side of your underwear.

The feeling of his bare cock against your folds and teasing your clit sent you over the edge.

Keening, you froze before you started jerking back against him and legs trembling.

You started to slump a little before he picked you up by your thighs, holding them tightly together.

He started fucking your thighs, juices dribbling down your legs as you panted coming down from you high.

“I never thought that- ugh- that I’d ever be here. Wanted it so bad- guh!”

His thick cock head arousing you even now as it popped between your thighs.

Caleb groaned low in this throat, painting your thighs and the door with thick ropes of cum.

He carried you to the couch before his strength was spent, landing you in his lap as you both caught your breath.

“God I’m a mess now.”

Caleb laughed, resting his head against your shoulder.

“You think I’m any better?”

You hum, turning in his lap to face him properly. Holding his face between your hands, you gently caress him. His eyes closed in ecstasy from your touch.

“I love you.” Eyes snapping open to look at you with a reignited frenzy deep inside.

“You love me?”

“Of course I do, you dolt! Why do you think I got your name tattooed on me in the first place? I only realized it after losing you, just how much you meant to me.”

“I love you too.” You lean forward to kiss him gently, the calm after the storm.

But your confession had made him all the more hungry to hold you close.

Still kissing you, he lays you back on the couch. Caleb kisses his way down your neck, your breasts, your belly until he reaches your still wet pussy.

Inhaling like it’s an expensive perfume, he brings his face close and licks a stripe up your folds.

Cleaning your juices from your last orgasm.

Gasping from the overstimulation

“Wait! Not so rough, I’m still sensitive!”

“Good.”

He dives in like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead so he expertly slips off his uniform jacket and unbuttons his shirt.

Leaving his magnificent chest on display for your eyes.

His tongue curls around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His fingers reach up and delicately brush against you.

Experimentally sliding one finger in, it makes you groan and thrust his face.

A delighted look of bliss settles onto his face as he eats you with precision.

A thought crosses your mind that makes you jealous.

“Have you done this before? Ah!”

He pulls away a bit while still leisurely pumping two of his fingers now in and out of you.

“No, you’re my first everything. I’m just an expert on the subject of you.”

Caleb presses his fingers up into the top of your walls as if searching, ah there it was. He found your g-spot, making you whine and scramble as if you’re unsure to get away or move closer.

“Any other men I should keep an eye out for, squeaks?”

“N-no I’ve never done anything with anybody before. Haaa!”

This seems to delight him as he brings his face back to your clit. Sucking it in and out of his mouth gently while flicking it with his tongue.

He brings you to the brink, feeling the tightening of your walls, he stops.

You whine as he pulls his fingers out.

“What?”

Without a word, he carries you down the hallway to a room that seems a bit cozier than the rest of the empty house.

Plopping you down on the bed, he eyes you like you’re a piece of art displayed at a museum.

“Caleb? Why’d you stop?”

“I want to be inside you.” He goes to the closet and pulls out a box.

“I keep these in here just in case.” Caleb pulls out a condom and looks at you asking with his eyes.

“I want you inside me too. But… you don’t have to wear that.”

Glancing up at him through your eyelashes shyly, you hear his breath hitch in excitement.

“That seems like it could lead to danger.”

“Is it really dangerous if I’m with you though?”

He slips his pants and shirt off, hurrying over to you on the bed, almost tripping.

Cock straining up, an angry red and dripping with precum.

You lick your lips with anticipation.

“How do you want me?”

“On your belly. I want to see my name on you while I fuck you into the mattress.”

This idea excites you as you flip over. Curious how this position was going to work if you weren’t on your knees.

Caleb comes up behind you, hands on either side of you, trapping you in a cage made of him.

“Last chance to go.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

He leans down to your ear, the one with his name, and whispers

“I can handle anything if I have you.”

Caleb slides a hand under your stomach, lifting your waist so your your pussy was tilted up at him. Otherwise you were flat on the bed, your breath hot with excitement.

He grabbed his cock, pumping it a bit as he slides the tip around your folds.

“I’ll go slow at first, just tell me if it hurts.”

“No, don’t go slow, fill me up please.”

“Fuck.”

He slides in all the way to your cervix, only a slight pinch before all you feel is the pleasure of being full.

His balls laying heavily right up against your folds and the feeling of them laying on your thighs excites you.

Caleb breathes heavily, his chest pressing you into the mattress as he gets his bearings.

Whining, you push and grind up into him. The pressure and angle, pushing him into your g spot.

“Hold on, or this is will be much shorter than I want it to be.”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

He snorts into your hair.

“I sure as hell won’t.”

Sliding back a bit before sheathing himself back into your walls, the sensation of him dragging inside you is so good.

It’s a delicate balance, keeping your back arched enough that he doesn’t pop out. But the position is so erotic, feeling him pressing down into you. Fucking you into the mattress, the sheets stimulating your clit but not quite enough.

Caleb’s balls hitting the meat of your thighs every time he thrusts himself into you roughly, god it makes you so feral.

“Let me bite your hand Caleb!” You whine out into the night air.

He stuffs it into your mouth, no questions asked as you bite down into the meat below his thumb.

“Fuck! If I knew it felt this good, I would’ve- ngh- tried to convince you sooner.”

“Would you have snuck in to my room in the middle of the night?”

The fantasy turning you both on as you both started to get close. His cock making a mess of your thighs as the mattress becomes soaked below you.

“God yes, fucking you like this but my hand keeping you from making any noise. So we wouldn’t get caught.”

The thought of getting caught turns you on a bit as you clench your walls around his girth.

He moans and tells you to touch yourself, he’s not gonna last long.

So you slide your hand under you to your clit, rubbing it a few times while feeling his balls slap against you is all it takes.

“Caleb!” You bite down hard on his hand and he jerks, your neck craning just enough for him to see his name on you once more.

Caleb explodes inside you, pumping his cum into you, not wanting to waste a drop.

A few more slow thrusts, pulling you to your sides, keeping you stuffed with his cock still.

Panting together a bit before laughing in delight. You still feel so delightfully full, you rub your stomach, you can feel him through it.

He shudders as he asks

“You good?”

“That was amazing.” You sigh and reach back with your head, searching for his lips. Caleb kisses you as if time has stopped for just the two of you.

He pulls away and noses his name behind your ear.

“I take it that this means you’ll stay.”

“Are you kidding? You’re never getting rid of me.”

[vampzity]

ateez twitter links!

★ BONUS DAY: ATZ HYUNG LINE TWT LINKS ★

[ DISCLAIMER ]: the following links contain PORN which is only suitable for mature audiences!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+!! all links contain hetero content! some dont have any sound :’)

[warnings]: porn… duh!, spanking, fingering, jacking off, unprotected sex, ejaculation, anything else i missed

⭐️: author’s favorite

[ KIM HONGJOONG ]

be a good bunny: hongjoong loved calling you his little bunny— especially when you were good for him. he’d come home from work, sit you on his lap and let you grind your swollen cunt away as his hands kneaded your ass. he’d praise you for your sweet moans, for when you ran your clit just perfectly against his sensitive tip. he’d smack you enough to leave his hand print so that you knew you belonged to him and only him.

mere distraction: sometimes working on a deadline takes a toll and t was even more frustrating when you had no inspiration. you always made it a chore to drop off his dinner, but he needed to let out his hardships. you ride him with such joy, feeling his cock press against your cervix as he plays with your ass. he smacks it, squeezes it, anything he can do to ease his stress.

[ PARK SEONGHWA ]

⭐️ pillow princess: seonghwa adores everything about you. from the way you walk, to the way your face flushes red whenever he compliments you. but sometimes you drive him so nuts that he’s desperate to tear you apart. he practically offers himself to you— lets you grind your pretty pussy against his face as he drags his tongue against your slick. he especially loves it most when you squeeze his head with your thighs as you’re begging to cum. and when you do? don’t expect him to stop. he’s doing this for his own pleasure as well.

slow and steady: he was always so sensual when it came to sex. he’d gently pump himself into you, allowing you to get used to his size as his tip grazed against your sweet spot, teasing it beyond capacity. as much as he loved cumming inside of you, he loved seeing it drop down your soft skin. how pretty your pussy looked as his cum ran down your folds rather than spilled out of you. he would make sure every inch of him was inside you, forcing you to take his lanky size.

[ JEONG YUNHO ]

⭐️ such a tight fit: you loved yunho’s hands. they were so big, so veiny, and he knew they were your weakness. he also knew how well they stretched you out. whenever you were good for him, he’d promise to play with you. his long fingers would pound at your sweet spot, curling inside of you as he was rough with you. he admired how swollen your pussy was from you struggling to take them in. and god, you were so wet. he’d run his pads against your clit, your cunt glistening as you squirted onto his palm. even when you cum he’d keep going, he didn’t care how sensitive you were. you were his toy after all, so he’d keep playing with you.

i promise i’ll listen: if you thought being bad was gonna help you get your way, you’ve be gravely mistaken. now here you lay, your poor clit being abused as yunho refuses to let you cum. he starts off slow, speeding up his pace until you’re begging for more. then he stops, leaving you a sopping wet mess. maybe next time you’ll learn to stay in your place hm?

[ KANG YEOSANG ]

good boy: yeosang loved submitting to you. he’d let you do anything you wanted if it meant he got to cum. you’d make him sit there in front of you and force him to hold himself up as you stroke his needy cock. it throbbed uncontrollably in your hands as you ordered him not to cum onto your face— you didn’t want to ruin your makeup! he’d practically fold everytime you called him a good boy, even sweet boy would do him in. he was just so desperate to please you.

⭐️ desperate dog: despite yeosang being the more submissive one in your relationship, he fucked you like he’d never get the chance to again. he was rough, sloppy, he was so desperate to cum inside of you.. or on you, he didn’t care. he just wanted to feel your walls squeezing around his aching cock as he rammed himself into you, tapping your sweet spot with his leaking tip.

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: some videos i found were WILDINNN like somebody call the coochie police…? but overall this was fun to write for! if you guys are interested in more stuff like this i wouldn’t mind doing more in the future! :3

taglist: @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @rvereri @jjongibears @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @joonezra @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble @nopension @bbdeongi @sojuxxi @bbykaixx @felixleftchickennugget

[tvgals]

ok so boom, baseball player! ony and his actress! wife strikes again.

ony has been signed to the dodgers for five years now, and he doesn’t plan on retiring anytime soon. he’s been hitting absolute piss missiles for the past year and knows everyone in the league fears him as one of the most feral outfielders in the game.

ony has been on top of the world for years, the biggest headlines featuring his name and how you and him are the best couple to come out since kanye and kim, how the two of you are inseparable and can’t help but show the world, but when you two fight, it’s also obvious to the whole world. ony is a hothead, when the ump makes a terrible call, he’s the first to start throwing curse words and throw and hit shit around the dugout, and you hate it. you hate it because he’s giving himself a bad rap. sure, he could be the best fucking player in the world, but his shitty attitude could cost him a lot.

-

“baby. you know they always make shit worse on tv.” ony argues, leaning back in the drivers seat of his 2019 porsche 718 booster you were pissed. today, the dodgers played against the cincinnati reds, and ony struck out for the first time in a month off of a terrible call, a ball that was basically skimming the ground. he was furious, he stomped his way to the dugout and everyone knew to move out his way. ony flipped out, smashing his bat, throwing around the large gatorade containers, flinging helmets around, the whole thing. you were fuming in the stands, standing up and stomping away yourself. you couldn’t believe ony. you told him that you didn’t wanna see him act a fool in front of all these people again that he was making a bad reputation for himself everytime he acted out…but he never listened.

“you know that everytime you act an ass, it goes back to the dodgers and it makes everyone look bad. you need to calm down.” you reprimand him, scrolling on twitter to see everything people are saying about your husband. “why do you care so much?” he asks, rolling his deep brown eyes. in all honesty, ony couldn’t care less how people perceived him. he’ll forever be known as that dodgers player, that everyone will love him no matter how bad his attitude is. but for whatever reason, you can’t see that. you don’t understand why they put up with him…how you put up with him.

“take me home.” you grumble, firm and angry. ony huffs to himself, stepping on the gas. you watch out the window as you see the trees and mountains pass by as a blur, you felt your body be almost forcefully pushed into your seat, as if you couldn’t lean forward. “ony, slow down.” you warm him, digging your fingernails into the seat. “you wanna go home, right?” he asks, a small chuckle mixed in. your heart started to race and you feel like you can’t breathe. “onyankopon. i am not fucking kidding, slow the car down!” you yell, tears pricking at your eyes. “shutup. just shut up. all you do is preach at me and make me feel like a little kid all the time. i will crash this fucking car if you don’t shut up.” he yells back, stepping on the gas harder. in his haze of anger, he doesn’t notice the deer standing in the middle of the road, or the way you scream, or the way he doesn’t yank the wheel to move out of the way.

the deer hits the car with an insane force of power, taking the bumper off and cracking the windshield almost to oblivion. ony pulls over, the car creaking and shards of glass peppered around the inside of the car. you can’t hold it in anymore and you start sobbing, you can see the way the glass has scarred your skin, you can feel how bad your back hurts and how your eyes feel like they’re about to pop. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you scream, unbuckling your seatbelt and slapping ony across the face. he’s stuck in place, his hands grippping the steering wheel with extreme force. “are you fucking kidding me?! you almost killed us and now you wanna be quiet? get the fuck out of here.” you wail, flinging the car door open and steadily stepping out.

you walk away to god knows where, as long as it’s not with that fucking maniac.

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

Jin slides a dish of vanilla ice cream to you. You smile when you see he remembers the extra sprinkles on top. Yoongi has taken a play out of your book and has been actively avoiding you since your conversation at his house two weeks ago. Every day, you watched out your window from your living room, hoping that he would come over when he returned home from work. He never did. Why was he so upset? Why was he so offended that you didn't want to sell the recipes to the farm? It's not like you were hurting the farm financially. They were doing perfectly well before you came along. They didn't need your bread or jam to be successful. It really shouldn't have mattered that you said no. You regret even agreeing to bake for them in the first place.

“Was I stupid for not selling the recipes?” You ask Jin, who is leaning on the counter in front of you with his own dish of ice cream.

“No, they mean something to you, and you shouldn't feel bad, ” he assures you. “Anyone of us could have talked to you about it. We are all at fault for this whole mess. I don't know why he is taking it so hard.”

“I feel like I've fucked everything up,” you say shoving the sweet cold ice cream in your mouth. As you chew on the colorful sprinkles the bell above the door jingles catching your attention. Hobi walks into the cafe and sits on the stool next to you as he steals a spoonful of your dessert. Your friendship with him went back to normal in a blink of an eye. It wasn't long after you both apologized that Jin and Namjoon sent you their own apologies. They didn't try to come up with excuses for Yoongi or try to make you feel bad. They were simple heartfelt apologies that you accepted right away. “Jimin and Tae even texted me asking why I was making a big deal out of it. They made a whole group chat with the three of us so they could gang up on me together.”

“Really?” Hobi asked, surprised, and you nodded.

“I'll have a talk with them later,” Jin comments, shaking his head.

“I…I just feel like I was back on track with my life, settling in nicely, and now everyone hates me,” you cry. Tears fall down your face that you quickly wipe away with your sleeve. “With the way everything has been going, I wouldn't be surprised if Kook doesn't evict me.”

“He would never do that to you. No one hates you,” Jin said, patting your head as if you're a child.

“It's all going to blow over,” Hobi said, hugging you.

“It's too late. Yoongi is clearly talking shit about me, and now everyone is going to choose sides. Jimin warned me not to let this get messy and look at us. I was so stupid to get involved with him,” you say, shaking your head disagreeing with them. “I've talked to my one and only friend from my old school district. They have a third grade teacher leaving next year. I think I'm going to take the position.”

“No, you're not,” Joon said, coming into the cafe with that damn bell jingling behind him. “We are not going to let you run away. I'll reject your resignation, and I won't give you any recommendations.”

“You would really do that to me?” You ask as he sits on your free side.

“Absolutely,” Namjoon said. “You belong here with us….you're family. Yoongi is stubborn, and so are you. Let things settle down, talk it out, and we will all move on.”

“What if we can't agree on things?” You ask, stirring the ice cream around in your bowl. “He doesn't seem to be in a rush to talk to me. He's had two weeks to talk to me. It's not like he doesn't know where I live. What if there is no fixing this?”

“What if?” Jin asks as he stares off into space as if he’s deep in thought. “What if…”

“What if what?” Hobi asks, smacking the counter, knocking Jin out of his daze.

“What if you sell the recipes to Tannie Farms, but make everything yourself?” Jin asks, looking at you curiously before breaking out in a wide smile.

“I'm not following,” you say, and your other two friends seem just as confused. The three of you in front of the counter look at each other as if Jin has gone insane. “His whole point was that I couldn't make everything myself. I can't supply you with the amount you would need.”

“I don't want to run the cafe anymore. I want to make the food I want to make,” he explains, turning serious. “Think about it, Y/N. A restaurant and bakery. Yours and mine….mine and yours. Ours. People from all over would flock to us.”

“That's….not a bad idea,” Joon said, looking at you with a surprised look on his face. Now, you are looking at him like he is the crazy one. “You would have multiple ovens big enough to make the quantities we need for deliveries, and the recipes would be safe with you. You wouldn't be selling them to strangers.”

“Okay, what about my job? Do I just give up on teaching and throw away my degree that I worked hard for? I am still paying off my student loan. I don't have the money to help you start a restaurant and bakery,” you tell them, pushing your dish of melting ice cream away. “I don't even know if I can make anything else. We can't run a bakery on one cake, bread, and a couple of jams.”

“Yoongi says he's willing to talk about it,” Hobi says, holding up his phone. You glare at him, that traitor. You knew he loved Yoongi more. “You wouldn't have to put up any money because Tannie Farms would own it. Financially, you wouldn't be on the hook for anything.”

“So, I would work for Yoongi,” you say, sounding very unamused as you take in their faces, looking excited at the possible new venture. Shaking your head, you wave your hands in front of you, showing that you were not interested. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“Please, please. Don't crush my dreams,” Jin begs, hands pressed together underneath his chin. “We could be successful. You would work for all of us, not just Yoongi. I don't want to work for my parents forever.”

“You'll have plenty of time to find more recipes and experiment,” Hobi assures you. “The whole process will take time. Months, if not years. You can do it.”

“You wouldn't even have to talk to Yoongi. Jin will handle everything, and all of us are available if you need anything. I think that you definitely can do it,” Joon says, agreeing with Hobi.

Can you? Can you do it? In theory, yes, you probably could. Your grandmother has so many different recipes that you haven't even explored yet. It's the whole working for your friends and Yoongi that is causing you to question this new business opportunity. Could you handle working for Yoongi after everything happened? You're not sure if you can or even want to. To actually work for them puts your entire livelihood at risk. If you get involved, fully involved, there is no way you could walk away at the drop of a hat if things get rough. It was a major commitment.

“Please?” Jin said, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, I'll love you forever. I wouldn't even dream of doing this with anyone else. We would work so well together.”

“Okay,” you give in and smack the counter with your hands, causing them to smile at you. “I guess I will be willing to listen to a full-on business plan when you have one. A complete business plan and not just an idea. However, that's all for right now ….I'll listen and consider.”

“Great! We are going to be great together,” Jin exclaims. “I need to get a menu around. Jolly Jin’s Cafe and Bakery. I can see the sign now.”

You sigh as you watch him run back into the kitchen. You think you're getting a headache.

Pulling back into your driveway, you notice Yoongi's house is dark like it has been recently. You barely even see the lights on for an extended period of time in his home at night anymore. You wonder if he kept the same routine he had when you would stay over. Dinner in the kitchen preceded by sitting in the living room curled up on the couch, reading a book. You would have been tucked into his side watching tv or scrolling through your phone as his eyes flew over the pages of his book. Sometimes, the nights would end with him pinning your against the couch cushions or scurrying upstairs quickly and into the bed. Now, those nights are over and gone with one stupid fight.

Sniffling, you blink away the unshed tears. It was then that you noticed the car parked along the side of your driveway. Looking over to your house, you stare at Changkyun from your driver's seat as you throw your car into park as he stands on your porch waiting for you. There was no reason for him to be here. He made it very loud and clear that the two of you were over. Getting out of your car, you stand rooted in your spot just looking at him. You are not willing to walk up to him. He seemed to take the hint and walked off your porch in your direction. Closing your door, you cross your arms and wait with baited breath as he nears.

“You look good,” he says, once reaching you.

He still looked good, too. Handsome as ever with that damn sharp jawline that you had fallen for in the beginning. It pissed you off. You want him to look guilty. You want him to look sad and tired. You want him to apologize for all the shit he put you through. For making you feel like you had to push your friends away. For making you feel like you were not good enough for him. However, he doesn't. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world.

“How did you find me?” You ask, taking a step back away from him. A part of you wonders if you can jump back in your car and drive away quickly.

“I went to your parents' house, and your mom told me where you were living. I really need to talk to you,” he says.

“I think you said plenty when you said, and I quote ‘I don't love you anymore’,” you tell him. “I don't think that there is anything left to say. You wasted your time coming here.”

You push past him, but he reaches out and grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving. You pull out of his grasp and glare at him. You don't want him to touch you. You don't even want to look at him. Crossing your arms, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’m really trying to be civil about this, Y/N,” he said. “I just want my engagement ring back.”

“Why now?” You ask with a laugh. “What, are you getting married sometime soon?” He looks away, not able to look you in the eye. Your jaw drops in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? I've only been gone for a few months and you're engaged. Who?”

“It doesn't matter who. Just give me the ring, and I'll be gone out of your life forever,” he says harshly.

“Tell me who,” you demand. You notice Yoongi pull into his driveway with perfect timing. Great, just great. This day just couldn't get any better. “You owe me that much.”

“Hanna,” he said quietly, looking down at his shoes as you hear Yoongi's car door open and close in the background.

Hanna, the one who you caught him in bed with. The one who you thought was one of your friends. You see Yoongi linger by his kitchen door in your peripheral vision after he slowly made his way up the steps to his house. You turn your head to look at him. Unfortunately, it triggered Changkyun to do the same. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed.

“Baby, I wish I could change things,” he said in a sickeningly sweet, smooth voice. “I know we were so good together at one point, but that ended. I’ve moved on, and you need to accept that. It's time for you to move on as well.”

“Don't call me that. You need to leave. I'm not giving you anything,” you hiss at him and turn to leave.

“That ring is mine,” he growled at you, grabbing onto you again and pulling you to him. You stumble over your feet as he pulls. “Just give it to me.”

Before you can even comprehend what was happening, Yoongi was in between the two of you. He gives Changkyun a forceful shove, making him stumble backward away from you. Yoongi reaches behind his back and pulls you behind him more, shielding your body. Protecting you. Keeping you safe.

“Just go,” Yoongi growls at him, and Changkyun just laughs at him. “It's clear she doesn't want you here. Get in your car and get the fuck out of here!”

“You think I'm afraid of you?” he asks, looking at him with a distasteful look before looking over Yoongi's shoulder at you. Changkyun laughs at the two of you, shaking his head in amusement. “Min Yoongi? Really, that’s the best you can do? Fuck, are you that desprate?”

“Well he's a million times better than a selfish jackass I know. I don't have the ring anymore, so just leave,” you yell at him from behind Yoongi.

“Where is it?” he snaps at you.

“Watch how you fucking talk to her,” Yoongi snaps back at him, still holding you behind him.

“I pawned it,” you laugh from behind the blonde man, making Changkyun narrow his eyes at you. “It bought me a lovely tv hanging on my wall right now. It's much more pleasant to look at than that ugly ass ring.”

You watch as Changkyun clenches his jaw and stomps away back to his fancy SUV. He stops halfway to his destination before turning back to look at both you and Yoongi. Changing his mind, he walks back toward you. Yoongi reaches back again, making sure that you're still tucked away safely behind him.

“You know,” he says, approaching you. “I never wanted to marry you. I only asked becasue you wouldn’t fucking stop nagging me about it. You were never good enough to be my wife, you stupid…”

That was enough for Yoongi as something inside him snapped. You watch in horror as he throws himself at Changkyun, taking them both onto the hard ground below their feet. It probably would have been comical watching two grown men roll around on the ground had they been strangers, but they weren't, and they were both pissed. This wasn't funny at all. You watch on, with your hands in front of your mouth in shock as Yoongi, who comes out on top lands a punch to Changkyuns stomach from above making him double over and turn slightly away from him. Changkyun, although laid out underneath the pissed off blonde, he wasn't deterred for too long. Using all his power, he spun his torso around quickly, elbowing Yoongi in the face and successfully knocking Yoongi off of him.

“STOP IT!” You yell out into the evening air as Yoongi lands on the ground next to your ex-boyfriend. They didn't listen to you. Changkyun stands, quickly grabbing Yoongi by the back of his jacket, bringing up on his own feet and bending him down low enough to knee him in the side, making him drop again. Yoongi's knees hit the ground hard before catching himself with his hands so he didn’t fall flat on his face. “CHANGKYUN STOP IT! STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You scream at him as he goes to grab Yoongi again.

You push forward, latching onto Changkyun’s arm, trying to shake him off Yoongi. Unfortunately, he wasn't discouraged and managed to get Yoongi back up. Grabbing his wrist, you pull as hard as you could, but he was much stronger than you. Instead, you sink your nails into his skin, dragging them across his flesh, leaving angry red lines in their wake. Changkyun growls. With his free hand, he pushes you away, causing you to stumble back and fall on your ass.

“Keep your hands off her,” Yoongi barks sharply.

Gaining some strength, Yoongi sweeps Changkyun's leg, causing them both to fall once more upon the ground. They roll around a couple of times, trying to each gain the upper hand. You scooch back on your butt trying to stay out of the way.

“She deserved it,” Changkyun growls, pinning Yoongi underneath him. They are both panting, but Changkyun smirks in victory as he looks down at Yoongi. “You think you're so tough. Fucking Min Yoongi, you ain't shit!”

You're too focused on watching your ex pull his arm back for a punch, you hardly register the footsteps quickly running up the driveway until an extra body jumps on Changkyun’s back pulling him off of Yoongi. Jungkook wraps his arms fully around him, dragging him back and away from the hurt man on the ground. Changkyun struggles with your friend, trying to get out of his hold. Tae jumps in quickly, getting in front of them just in case he breaks away and helps Jungkook push Changkyun back until they get him to his car.

“Yoongi,” you cry out, throwing yourself next to him as he struggles to get himself onto his knees.

You grab on to him gently and bring him close to you. He rests his head on your chest as he tries to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him. You stroke his hair with your hand, hoping desperately that he was okay. You see him close his eyes, taking in your touch. You wish you knew what else to do. You wish you could take everything back. You wish for a lot of things.

“You're both pathetic and deserve each other,” Changkyun yells out before finally getting into his vehicle, slamming his door shut in anger.

“Go, before we call the police,” Kook said, pointing to the end of the driveway.

Changkyun backs out of your driveway and squeals his tires before racing away, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind in the air. You watch him drive away until his tail lights disappear in the rapidly darkening horizon. Tae comes over and helps Yoongi stand on his own feet. You slowly get off the ground and stand beside them, waiting for someone to say something. Carefully, you place your hand on Yoongi's shoulder, but he instantly shrugs it off. That hurt. You can feel your heart drop down to your stomach. It's really over.

Yoongi and Taehyung take off, walking to his place while holding his side and slightly hunched over. Jungkook approaches you, and the two of you stare at each other. He looks sad. It's been weeks since you last talked to him. He's probably been actively avoiding this whole mess. You know he would never want to choose between you and Yoongi like Jimin and Tae apparently did.

“I should go with them,” he says, jerking his thumbs to the house next door. He's choosing Yoongi, and your heart breaks a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer with a nod. You don't blame him for wanting to leave. They were his brothers. You, you were the bitch he was renting his house to. The bitch who they can't make money off of. “Yeah.”

You turn and go to your house before he can even walk away or say anything more. Unlocking the door, you enter your house and slam the door shut, making the blinds on the kitchen windows shake and rattle. It wasn't going to work. The business plan wouldn't work. Your friendships weren't going to work. This small ass town wasn't going to work. You grab your phone from your bag. Pulling up Joons contact, you open a new message.

I’m taking the third grade job. I'm sorry I can't do this.

You can't. You won't.

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap , @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822 , @busanbby-jjk , @pitchblack0309 , @bluesiebirdie

[cod-indulgences]

Dunno if you have written for like Poly!141/Nikolai x reader, or anything for Nikolai x reader at all, but I would love you forever if you could write it. I dig the D/s stuff in your other posts, dubcon is cool too. 🥺❤️

Nikolai x female!reader, implied poly!TF141, implied TF141 x reader, John Price x reader, dubcon, noncon, consensual nonconsent implied but not stated, light clit and nipple abuse, squirting, implied free use/gangbang scenario

(man I really just left so much implied lol, anon thanks for your patience)

You wake up slowly, sluggish. There was movement in the bed with you, a heavy, hard-muscled body moving against yours. You moan as big hands cup your breasts, squeezing and groping.

The man presses you into the mattress, nudging your thighs open, and you arch your back as he grinds against you. Everything is soft-edged with sleep but you can feel the damp spot on your panties, the way the head of his cock rubs against you, kept out by a thin cotton barrier.

You moan again, louder, as he pinches your nipples. It's almost too hard, and you try to push him back, only rubbing your pussy against him more. Stubble scrapes your skin as he nuzzles into your neck, sucking.

"Johnny?" You guess, and reach a hand back to cup his head- and stop cold as you find not a mohawk or buzz cut, but longer licks, tangling in your fingers.

You don't know who is in your bed.

"Aw, pet, don't recognize me?" The man croons, licking the shell of your ear. He releases your breasts and slides one hand down your panties, lifting your ass up as he plays with your clit. You jerk, unable to stop yourself from following the movements of his fingers.

His other hand comes up over your mouth and presses it closed. "Hush, don't bother the rest of them. All partied out, yeah?"

Your boys had partied hard- hosting a handful of friends they'd made over the years, flying in from all over the world, and the celebrating had lasted well into the else hours, still going when you excused yourself to bed.

And now one of those friends had slipped into your bed, and was teasing your clit with slick fingers, making your hips jerk and your heart pound- someone you didn't know, you couldn't place his accent, who all had been there? How many- you couldn't think- you moan and feel your pussy clench as he rubbed faster, making little slick noises that made your face burn with embarrassment. You whine and try again to shove him off, rocking your hips, only to have your shout muffled in his hand as his fingers pinch hard.

"Naughty pet!" The man says, he sounds delighted. You groan as he keeps his grip through your thrashing, your free hand yanking at his arm. He doesn't budge, and you pant through your nose, feeling tears start to leak from your eyes. "Going to listen? Be good?"

He starts twisting, and you shriek into his hand, nodding frantically as your hips slam up and back, trying to escape the pain. Your panties rub against his groin, pulled sideways, and he releases your clit just to tug the scrap of fabric fully away and slam his cock into you.

The hand muffling your mouth presses tighter, arching your head against his shoulder, and you struggle to breathe against the cock that is fucking deep into you. There's so wait, no slow build up, just a hard fucking that punches the air from your lungs, little sounds stealing past the man's grip on your face. More tears drip from your eyes as you hear the wet smack of his balls on your pussy, how your spread thighs offer no resistance. Just a wet cunt being fucked.

The man grunts against your shoulder, wriggling a hand back to your breast where it's pressed into the mattress. Your nipple is found quickly, and he starts pinching it the same way he did your clit, a hard, steady pressure that makes you moan, and squirm, and try to fight him off as the ache increases. You sob when he twists the little nub, and he laughs meanly in your ear.

"So many tears, and still your pussy is wetter," he says, and grips your other nipple to twist it as well. Your pussy throbs. "Don't play dumb, you wanted this, laying here with your legs open just waiting for cock."

"No, no," you moan through his hand, and get a second pinch for it. He's still fucking you, too hard, your pussy aching as he bottoms out.

"Yes, yes," he mocks, and hauls you upright to fuck up into you, spreading your legs open around him. Your back to his chest, you can feel your tits bouncing, hear even more clearly the wet sounds of his cock going in and out. All you can see is the dark shadows on the ceiling and the side of his head- dark hair, long like you'd felt in your hand, nothing else. His shoulder bunches under your head, flexing as his body works to drive you insane.

You moan and fall limp, giving in. It's too much, the fear and the unknown, a stranger fucking you so well your pussy is clenching, ready to come, your nipples bruised. You can feel his grin against your cheek as he lifts one of your knees up, and oh, oh no.

Pressure builds in you, a throbbing ache in your pussy matched by a deeper sensation, wetter, and you scrabble at his arms as the man's cock rolls over your g-spot. You can't do it, you can't, he's going- going to make you-

You sob and wail as you come, thighs shaking as you squirt, liquid spraying from your cunt and all over the bed, and the man swears and fucks his cock into you so hard he slams into your cervix, making you groan at the stab of pain in your belly, clit throbbing on each thrust.

When he finally comes, fuck, finally, he does it by dropping you flat to the bed again, letting you collapse limp into the soaked sheets, his come filling your pussy. You whimper as he pulls out, panting, and uses his thumbs to hold your hole open. Slick drips down your clit.

"Ah, too dark in here to see it," he comments, as casual as if he was talking about trying to read in dim light. "My friend, care to hit the light for me?"

A second voice grumbles, "Of course," and you flinch as the bedside lamp comes on, your eyes squinching shut against the glare. After a moment you open them again, your mouth trembling as Price stands from his seat on your makeup table bench.

The man behind you- Nikolai, now you remember- tugs harder, and you whimper, feeling the cool air inside your pussy, the wet drip of come, as vulnerable as you've ever been- and sob when your pussy tries to clench down, only a flutter against the iron-hard grip prying you open.

"Just as you promised, Price, nothing better than a wet cunt," he says crudely, and Price laughs. He's hard himself, and you drop your eyes to the outline of his cock, straining in his pants. When Nikolai lets go, you scramble to the edge of the bed, reaching out, throwing your arms around Price. He pats your head.

"Alright, darling? Hell of a wake up call, huh?" Your head spins. Pleasure and pain and fear and surprise all swirl together. Your pussy aches and you're dripping slick and come. "Now come on- Nik won the round to get to wake you up, but we've got a whole house wanting to spend more time with you. On your feet," and he tugs you upright, tucking your hair back, and leads you on wobbling feet out to the main room.

[sturniolohohoho]

Behind Closed Doors

sweet!matt x reader blurb??

summary: you get into a fight with matt about the fact that he's kept your relationship under wraps for a year

c/w: angst, fluff, cuddling, swearing, kissing, yelling and fighting

dividers by @anitalenia here

You stir a pot of pasta mindlessly in your kitchen, awaiting Matt’s return. Looking up at the oven clock, it reads 12:32 AM. He was late coming home. Again. Scrolling through instagram, you pause at a video captioned “Matt Sturniolo is my man 😍😍. new fanfic on tumblr!!!”  

You knew it was just some random fan, but every bone in your body wanted to comment. You wish you could tell the world that he was yours, and only yours. That he was the thing you most cherished and loved in your world. But you knew that it couldn’t happen. Despite the several long arguments you had with Matt, he didn’t want to make it public.

You sigh, shutting off your phone just as you hear the sound of keys at the door. The door cracks open and in walks Matt. You walk over to him, a big smile on your face, taking his jacket and bag away. He looks tired, but the hearty pasta and a kiss will probably rejuvenate him.

“Hey baby! I made pasta for you for dinner, come on, sit down.” He gives you a tight lipped smile, walks over to the kitchen table sitting down with a sigh. You eye him nervously as you set the plates.

“You good Matt? You came home pretty late…” His eyes snap up, immediately becoming defensive. “Relax okay? I was just out, it was a really long day today.” You’re taken a little aback by his reaction, but you ignore it, pushing the feeling down.

“Well good thing you’re home now,” you say, sitting down next to him to eat. He nods quietly. “I just saw the most ridiculous post on insta, someone promoting some fanfic of you. Sometimes I wish I could just comment “He’s mine!” y’know?”

“Well you can’t.” He replies sharply. “I don’t want to have this conversation again. I’m exhausted and my answer isn't going to change. We’re not dating publicly, you’re not filming content with us.” He gets up to leave, pasta only half done. “I’m going to sleep.” You listen to him walk away, his footsteps receding up the stairs. You feel tears pooling up in your eyes and dripping into your bowl, onto the pasta you made for him.

1 year. You had been together for exactly 1 year. Today was your anniversary, and he had forgotten about it. Like a rubber band, all your self control snapped, you stood up, taking both of your bowls and slamming them onto the kitchen counter. You nearly run up the stairs into Matt’s room swinging the door open. He’s in his bed, wide awake, scrolling on his phone. He looks up at you startled but mostly annoyed.

“Wha–” You interrupt him. “NO. NO, MATT. This is not okay. You can’t keep hiding me from the public, keeping me at home like I’m just your bitch that cooks and loves when you want me to.” He gets up, temper flaring.

“What the FUCK are you talking about? This isn’t about that. I’m not hiding you, I’m protecting you. I’m protecting us from the world.” 

“FUCK THAT, CHRIS. You haven’t taken me out in weeks out of fear of being recognized. You’ve been coming home late every night, taking me for fucking granted. You know today was our 1 year anniversary, right?” You see a glimmer of regret in his eyes. 

“One entire fucking year and you still don’t care about me enough to introduce me to your online life. Have you ever thought of MY YouTube career? My channel could be BLOWING UP if you even just let me show up in one of your videos, even just a TikTok. This isn’t about protecting “us”, you’re being selfish” Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to get the words out, each one heavier than the last. 

“I’ve been busting my ass for this. For us. And you’ve been too busy hiding me away, like I’m some dirty little secret. You know what? I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep sacrificing everything for a relationship that you aren’t even willing to put your full heart into. I deserve someone who sees me, who wants to share their life with me. If you can’t do that, then maybe it’s time I start thinking about me for once. Maybe it’s time I leave.”

He just sits there, frozen, eyes glazed over. You can’t tell at all what he’s thinking. You back out of his room, wiping the tears off your face. “Think about it, Matt,” you whisper, before you close the door and walk over to your room to collapse on the bed.

Hours pass by of you sleeping, waking up, crying, then going back to sleep. Your pillow is tear stained and your face is salty. Finally, you hear a knock on the door. 

“Can I come in?” You don’t respond just laying there motionless. Matt cracks the door open, walking into your room slowly, and closing the door behind him. He looks like he’s been crying too, eyes and cheeks red. He sits on the bed next to you, reaching his hand out to smooth your hair. He stays there for a couple minutes, just playing with your hair, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Baby, I thought about what you said,” he says in a quiet voice. You raise your eyes to meet him, a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“You… you are the most important person in my life, sweetheart.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “And I can’t believe I let my own selfishness about the complexity of dating publicly hurt us. I can’t lose you. I love you so much. I-” he chokes up. “–can’t lose you” Tears pool in your eyes as you lunge forwards to wrap your arms around Matt. “I’ll make the post tomorrow morning. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, I’ll do anything. Please”

You bury your face against his chest, listening to his heart beating quickly. You let out a deep sigh, melting into his arms. “I forgive you, Matt. I just- I can’t live without you.”

He pulls you closer, his arms tight around you as if he's afraid to let go. His lips press softly into your hair, and you breathe in his scent, letting it calm your racing heart. “I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, wiping away a few lingering tears. "I love you too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The tension of the past few hours seems to melt away.

Matt smiles softly, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek. “How about we make the rest of this year the best one yet? I’ll be the guy who shows you off to the world. I’ll let you be a part of all of it—because you deserve that and more.”

Your heart swells, a mix of relief and joy flooding you. "Promise?"

“I promise," he says, his words sincere. “I’ve got you, always.”

a/n: all done!!! This is my first angst fic and I like it i thinkk. I probably wont make it a series and i dont have much to say so thanks for reading!

suggestions and criticism greatly appreciated, requests VERY OPEN <33 love youu

[yumeaoka-chan]

Maybe It's Canon...

My hand slipped...? Blame @the-kr8tor @hyperfix-wip and @pleaktale for not stopping me😭🤚 Also credit to Bleaky for the ask sent to Katy. Lovely banners made by @cafekitsune ❤️

Pairing: Ekko x Reader x Hobie Brown/ Prowler! Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Angst, hurt/ no comfort (straight up bad times, man), fighting(im still bad at writing fight scenes), blood, no physical description of reader, can be read as any gender really, TW death, cursing

Summary: In every universe, you fall for them. Sometimes, it doesn't end well.

Blood rushes in his ears as he holds you close, senses buzzing and sensitive hearing picking up the way your heart thrashes like a battering ram inside your chest. Frigid air whips your face, tears from the sharp gusts of wind slipping from your eyes as you gasp, trembling like a leaf from being up so high.

“‘S alright, love,” Hobie breathes out, pulling you away from the ledge of the sky-scraping tower, arms firmly wrapped around you and thumbs rubbing circles against you. “‘M gonna get you down from ‘ere. Promise.” His bones still feel like it's rattling from Electro’s shocks, fingers twitchy and body aching and ribs creaking. But he had to get you to safety first. After everything you've done to ensure his win against the electric powered villain, he had to make sure you were safe. With a jerky nod, you blink away the stinging tears, face as cold as ice due to the blistering London winds.

Just as he goes to launch a web at an opposite building, his senses suddenly go haywire. Only giving him enough time to snap his head in the direction of danger before a sharp pain blooms across his ribs, breath leaving him in a whoosh as he's slammed onto the ground away from you. Your frightened cry rings in his ears as he pushes back at the force that had rushed him, rolling himself into a crouch as he whipped his head up to glare at the newcomer. A frustrated snarl forming on his lips beneath his mask, Hobie narrows his eyes at the flash of purple and green.

“Ain't the time, Prowler”, he snaps, eyes darting over to your shaking form, seeing as you latch yourself to the glass skylight windows of the tower. Your chest heaves as you try to regulate your breathing, watching with trepidation and worry as the Prowler stands up. Claws of his mechanical gauntlets gleaming under the light of the full moon, glowing white eyes of his purple mask sharp and narrowed. He points a clawed finger at the web head, voice deep and masking any resemblance of something human.

“You had time to fuck up my plans. I can spare a few minutes to kick your ass, insect.” Hobie scoffs, eyes focused on the way the thief circles around him like he's prey. He might as well be, what with his mind solely focused on protecting you, getting you out of this mess as quick as possible.

“Arachnid, P. ‘Sides, it ain't my fault you can't plan your heists at a better time.”

“Always a joke with you… Too bad I ain't laughing”, Prowler spits out lowly, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as you watch him shift into a defensive stance. Eyes drifting over to Hobie, you shake your head, hoping and praying that he understands that you don't want him to fight. Not this time. Your silent pleas are met with a firm shake of his head, Hobie throwing his battered guitar to the side and crouching lower, dashing any hope you have about no violence. It's silent then, nothing but the harsh winds whistling in your ears. The two men watch each other closely, muscles coiling beneath the skin as they ready themselves to spring into action. Everything that happens is a blur then.

Quick on his feet, Prowler dashes towards Hobie, swinging his fist at him once he nears the web head. The punk easily dodges the blow from his left, backing away from a hit from the right. A hand comes up to block the knee to his stomach before he drops down, sweeping a leg out to trip the thief. Falling down from the sudden sweep, the clawed man is quick to use the momentum from the fall, spinning his body on the ground and delivering a harsh kick to the masked hero's face. Hobie groans as the Prowler flips, standing up and rushing him once more. He delivers an onslaught of punches and kicks to the web head who weaves away from every blow before lifting his leg up high and bringing it straight down towards the punk's head in a mean axe kick. Hobie manages to sidestep away from it at the last second, moving forward and bringing up a hand to catch the thief's leg. Lifting up a fist to hit Prowler in the chest and right before he can kick his leg from underneath him, the masked thief suddenly grabs him by the shoulders. Clamoring onto him and wrapping his thighs around his head, they both tumble to the ground.

You watch as they exchange blow after harsh blow, watch as they somehow stumble closer towards your little safe haven called the skylight. Heart feeling heavy with slight dread as you see Hobie get punched so hard that you can hear the stuttered gasp of pain leaving his lips. Prowler yells angrily as he swipes his claws down over the webslinger's chest, bits of red spandex clinging to the sharp metal. Hobie hisses as pain blossoms, body still heavy from the previous fight and strength wanning. A mechanical fist collides into his nose and if his brain wasn't rattling inside of his head right now, he would have sworn he heard a distinct crack. A cry of terror sounds in his ear as his back collides with something cold, something breaking beneath the combined weight of him and the man leering above him. Another blow rains down on his nose, which he for sure knew was broken by now. Then another, making his head snap to the side, blood welling up behind his now swollen eye.

“That's all you had in you, Spider-Man”, Prowler hisses before delivering yet another blow to the downed man's face, name leaving his lips like a curse. “What happened to being the best, huh? This'll teach you to stay outta my way…!”

Hobie's head is swimming as punch after punch lands on his face, eyes rolling behind his mask as he tries to get up. He has to get up. It doesn't matter if his ribs were for sure fractured by Electro earlier, it doesn't matter if he could barely seem to move a finger. All that mattered was keeping you safe, living to make it back home and spending time with you and Ekko. The two people he loved more than anything. He could hear you, hear as you cried out for Prowler to stop, begged for any semblance of mercy for his sake. It broke his heart, hearing the fear for his life that he's unfortunately instilled in you. And, suddenly, the raining of blows cease, Hobie cracking open heavy eyes to blearily peer up at the man causing him harm. The Prowler's fist is raised up high, shaking with restraint as his head is turned towards you. You, whose standing up on shaky legs on the skylight, tears streaming down your face as you sniffle.

“W-What… What did you just call me…?” The thief let's out breathlessly, whatever you said having caused him to tremble as he speaks his words. Wiping at the tears you take a shaky step forward and Hobie lets out a jumbled slew of words, protesting your advancement towards danger.

“Please stop, Ekko… That's Hobie…” You choke out and it makes the pain he feels almost instantly go away. Because what in the world did you mean, calling the thief Ekko? Ekko…? There was just no way that could be true. Glowing white eyes now boring down at the injured man beneath him, Prowler lifts a trembling clawed hand up towards the hem of the webslinger’s mask, and Hobie can't even find it in him to stop him as it's pulled up and off of his head.

“N-No”, Prowler chokes before ripping his own mask off of his face. Hobie's met with familiar hazel brown eyes boring into his own and his breath leaves him. Twisted white locs falling over his face as he gently cradles the punk's face within his mechanical claws, Ekko has tears shining in his heartbroken gaze. And then, before he could utter a word, before he could try to figure out how exactly you figured out his identity, the glass beneath you three cracks. Everything seems to happen in slow motion then.

A gasp leaves your lips as you fall through the shattering remains of the skylight, air whipping past you as you tumble down the tower. Hobie and Ekko fall straight down, bodies bumping and landing on hard metal beams. Eyes darting around, looking for you, widening once they see you falling. In the last moments of your life, you gaze at the two men you hold dear, reaching for you, yelling out your name in horror. Tears slip from your eyes as you smile at them, your deadly descent never slowing. They're diving to you, fingers so far from brushing against your own. As a last resort, Hobie shoots out a web, hoping, praying to anything out there that it reaches you in time. It looks like a tiny hand, you think to yourself as you gaze at them lovingly. It latches just as you reach the hard floor of the tower and Hobie's heart thuds so loud within his ears that he can barely hear anything else.

He got you. He made it in time. You'd be okay. That's what he tells himself repeatedly as he and Ekko finally reach the bottom, his hands yanking away the web and holding you close. Hand cradling the back of your head, his mind doesn't register the slick warmth that seeps from it, smile on his pierced lips as he awaits for you to open your eyes.

“Love…”, he mumbles, russet brown eyes roaming over the serene look on your features. “Lovie…? Open your eyes for me, yeah? Can you do that, sweetheart…?” His sensitive ears can't seem to pick up your pulse, which he finds odd. Strange. You were okay. You were safe now.

“C'mon, darlin’. Jus’ open your eyes f'me and we can go home. Promise…” Hobie doesn't dare to look behind him, tunes out the sound of Ekko falling to his knees. When he sees that your expression never changes, that your face granted with serenity never wanes, he starts to trail his fingers down to your chest. Trembling as he searches for where your heart is beating. Because, of course, it was beating. Of course it was…

Oh…

Oh…

“No, no no… You can't do this to me”, Hobie whispers harshly, vision blurring and swimming as he lets out a choked sob, nose scrunching and face crumbling. Despair threatens to claw out his broken heart as he fervently shakes his head, fingers cradling your face. “C’mon, lovie, please. Please.”

The man behind him is sobbing loudly now, the sound rattling in his brain as Hobie holds you close against his chest, gripping your lifeless body like a lifeline. He couldn't breathe, breath coming out in heaving gasps as the tears streaked down his face, dripping onto your rapidly cooling skin.

“Don't fuckin’ leave me…” His sobs rattle in his chest as reality finally sets in. You're gone. He didn't make it in time. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he lays your body down on the ground and stands. Legs wobbling, he falls onto his knees a moment after, chest aching and grief all consuming. Ekko takes his place, holding onto you and whispering apologies against your hairline. And as Hobie watches him, he no longer sees the man he loved and respected. No longer sees the man he cherished just as much as he cherished you. No longer does he see the man he wanted to spend an eternity with alongside you. No. All Hobie can see now is red.

[earthtoharlow]

HIT THE LIGHTS

3rd installment of the Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights & Don’t Like The Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

2. POV

Jack was back home from another quick trip to New York. He’d just wrapped up filming a music video for a freestyle he’d been working on, and he couldn’t wait to share it with Maryse.

As soon as he walked through the door, he kissed her hello and dragged her to their living room, eager to play the track.

“I’ve been dying for you to hear this,” he said, grinning as he set up the speakers. “It’s called Tranquility.”

She smiled back, loving how excited he was. “I can’t wait,” she said, settling onto the couch.

Maryse nodded along as the beat dropped, always loving when he worked with Hollywood Cole. The first couple lyrics hit her like a brick.

“Twenty-five hundred plus a couple utilities

Fuck it, I’ll pay it just to keep the tranquility

Fuck it, I love ya, I’ll do anything for you

’Cept settle down with you.”

Maryse’s chest tightened, and the words echoed in her head, pulling her mind back to the comments she’d overheard in the bathroom and the questions during her interview. It was like a cruel confirmation of everything she’d tried to push out of her thoughts.

Still, she managed to keep her face composed, smiling faintly as the song finished.

“So?” Jack asked, leaning forward with hopeful eyes. “What do you think?”

“It’s great,” she said quickly, her voice betraying no hint of the turmoil inside her. Before he could press her further, she stood up. “I’ll be right back. I just need to use the restroom.”

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her breath shaky. Her reflection in the mirror looked just as rattled as she felt. She pressed her palms against the sink, willing herself not to cry.

“It’s just a song,” she thought, but the ache in her chest wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t shake the sting of hearing those words come from the man she loved.

Maryse took another deep breath to steady her thoughts. She knew, deep down, that Jack’s lyrics often came from a mix of past experiences, storytelling, and pure creative expression. The line could very well be about someone else.

But even knowing that, the sting lingered.

It wasn’t just the lyric—it was the timing. After everything that had happened—the women in the bathroom, the invasive interview questions, and the doubts swirling in her own mind—it felt too personal, even if it wasn’t meant to be.

“You’re overthinking,” she told herself, gripping the edge of the sink. But the tears pricked at the corners of her eyes anyway.

She hadn’t told Jack about what happened. Not about the women’s cruel comments. Not about how much it had rattled her during the interview. Not about how much she hated feeling weak.

And now, she couldn’t help but feel like the universe was pushing her to confront it all. But where would she even begin? Would it sound like she was pressuring him? Would he understand how much it hurt?

She closed her eyes and sighed, wiping at her cheeks before any tears could fall. “He loves me,” she reminded herself. “That’s what matters.”

Maryse walked out of the bathroom, she froze at the sight of Jack leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed. But his expression wasn’t casual—it was soft, concerned.

“Hey,” he said gently, pushing off the wall. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, the weight of everything threatening to spill over. Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out.

“You can’t release that song.”

Jack blinked, clearly taken aback. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. Then he gave her a small, nervous smile. “Wait… is it that bad?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, it’s not bad,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s amazing. That’s not the point.”

His smile faded, and he studied her face carefully. “Then what is the point?”

She looked down, fidgeting with the promise ring on her finger, debating how much to say. “It’s just… that one line. You know the one I mean.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. He thought back to the song, replaying the lyrics in his head. Then it clicked.

“‘Except settle down with you,’” he said slowly, his tone cautious.

Maryse nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

“Baby, it’s just a line,” he said softly, stepping closer. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But it does,” she whispered, finally looking up at him. “At least, it does to me. Especially after the interview. And the bathroom thing…”

“What bathroom thing?” he interrupted, his concern deepening.

She bit her lip, realizing she’d just revealed more than she intended. “It’s not important.”

“It clearly is,” he said firmly. “Talk to me, M.”

She hesitated again, but the worry in his eyes broke down her walls. Taking a shaky breath, she told him everything—the women in the bathroom, the cruel things they said, the way it had haunted her during the interview, and how that lyric felt like salt in the wound.

When she was done, Jack looked stunned. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “Baby, I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to seem like I was pressuring you,” she admitted. “Or like I was weak, letting what they said get to me.”

“First of all, you’re not weak,” he said firmly. “You’re the strongest person I know. And second… I hate that they made you feel like that. I hate that I made you feel like that, even by accident.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of relief.

Jack pulls her into a tight hug resting his chin on her head. Maryse let herself sink into his arms, feeling his steady heartbeat against her cheek. For a moment, the weight of her emotions felt lighter, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the nagging thought in her mind.

As she stood there, she finally asked, her voice muffled against his chest, “So… are you just not going to drop the song?”

He paused, his grip loosening slightly. Pulling back to look at her, his expression was soft but firm. “I’m still going to drop it,” he said gently. “It’s already set for release, and the video’s done.”

She stepped back, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as she processed his words. “So, you’re still going to drop it,” she said, her voice edged with hurt.

Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s already set. The video’s done, the release date locked in. It’s not as easy as just pulling it back now.”

Her brows furrowed, her voice trembling. “I’m telling you how it made me feel, and you’re still okay with putting it out there? After everything I’ve been dealing with?”

“It’s not about us,” he said, trying to explain, though his tone carried a hint of frustration. “That line isn’t about you or our life. It’s just a song.”

“But I’m your partner, the mother of your kids!” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “Shouldn’t my feelings matter more than a release schedule?”

“Of course, they matter,” he said quickly, stepping closer to her. “But you know how this works. This isn’t personal, it’s business. I’m not trying to hurt you, but I can’t just stop everything because of how it might be interpreted.”

She shook her head, taking a step back. “It’s not just how it might be interpreted, it’s how it feels. And right now, it feels like you’re choosing this song over me.”

“That’s not fair,” he said softly, his tone now more pleading than defensive.

“Neither is you knowing how much it hurts me and still deciding to go through with it,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. “I know it’s just a song to you, but to me, it’s a reminder of everything people have been saying about us—and about me.”

Jack’s jaw tightened as he watched her wipe away her tears. “You’re acting like I’m doing this to hurt you,” he said, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “But I don’t tell you not to release songs that make me look bad.”

Maryse turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. “When have I ever released a song that makes you look bad?”

He threw up his hands. “I’m just saying, you’ve written stuff about your past relationships, your struggles, and I’ve never once told you not to. I’ve always supported your art, no matter how it might make me feel.”

“That’s different,” she shot back, her voice rising. “I’ve never put out a song that could make people think I don’t care about you—or us.”

“And I’m telling you, that’s not what this song is,” he said firmly, his tone growing sharper. “It’s not about you. It’s just a line, a piece of the bigger story. Why can’t you see that?”

She shook her head, her frustration spilling over. “Because it doesn’t matter what it’s about to you—it’s about how it makes me feel. And right now, it feels like I’m standing here telling you I’m hurt, and you don’t care.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, his voice softening. “You know I care about you more than anything. But I’ve worked hard on this, and I can’t just scrap it. You wouldn’t want me to ask you to do that with your music, would you?”

She blinked back fresh tears, her voice trembling. “I wouldn’t put you in this position, though. I wouldn’t write something that could hurt you like this.”

Jack stepped closer, reaching for her again, but Maryse took a step back. “I’m going for a drive,” she said quietly, squeezing past him to leave the room.

As she turned to leave, Jack’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Yeah, go ahead,” he said, his tone sharp and laced with frustration. “Leaving like you always do when things get tough.”

Maryse froze, her back to him, his words slicing through the air like a dagger. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked, her voice barely steady.

He shrugged, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I’m just saying, it’s easier to walk away than actually talk about it, isn’t it?”

Her jaw tightened as she fought to keep her composure. “You know what? Maybe I’m walking away because I need to think before I say something I’ll regret,” she shot back.

“Well, let me know when you’re done thinking,” he said coldly, turning away from her.

Maryse didn’t respond, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak. Instead, she walked out, letting the door close softly behind her, the silence in its wake feeling heavier than anything they had said.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the house fell into an uneasy silence. Jack stood there for a moment, running a hand down his face, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. With a sigh, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the twins’ room.

He opened the door quietly, careful not to disturb their nap. The room was filled with the soft hum of the sound machine. London was curled up with her tiny fist resting against her cheek, and Noah’s chest rose and fell under his favorite blanket.

Jack leaned against the doorframe, letting the tension in his shoulders ease. This room had become his safe haven—a place where everything felt simple and pure. No arguments, no miscommunications, no outside noise. Just them.

He walked over to Noah’s crib, brushing a hand gently over his son’s curls before looking over at London. A small smile tugged at his lips despite the heaviness in his chest.

But as much peace as he felt here, the weight of his relationship with Maryse lingered. He loved her—there was no doubt about that. He would do anything for her and their family. Yet, sometimes, he felt like he had to constantly prove his loyalty, like he was being held to a standard he’d already exceeded. It was exhausting, frustrating even.

He knew dropping the song might make things worse, but his music was how he expressed himself. It wasn’t about her, not entirely, and he couldn’t keep walking on eggshells, trying to protect her from lyrics that weren’t meant to hurt.

With a deep breath, he sat down in the rocking chair between their cribs, resting his elbows on his knees.

He hated that she had overheard those women in the bathroom. The thought of her standing there, listening to them tear her down, made his chest ache. He hated it even more that some small part of her seemed to believe their words, even after everything they’d been through together.

He had spent years showing her how much she meant to him, in every way he knew how. And yet, the idea that she might still doubt him, even for a second, stung more than he cared to admit.

He looked over at Noah and London, their tiny faces so peaceful. This was what mattered most—this family. Not the outside noise, not the opinions of strangers who didn’t know the first thing about their love.

But how could he convince her of that when she carried those insecurities so deeply? And why did it feel like no matter what he did, it wasn’t enough to quiet those doubts?

A bitter thought crept into his mind: maybe she didn’t believe him because a part of her didn’t think she deserved it. He immediately shook his head, trying to push the thought away. He loved her, flaws and all, but moments like this made him feel like he was fighting a battle he couldn’t win.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know how to fix this, but he knew one thing for sure—he hated that she was hurting, and he hated that anyone had the power to make her doubt their bond. He just wished she could see herself the way he saw her: as the love of his life and the mother of his children, someone irreplaceable.

As Jack left the twins’ room, his mind wandered back to the phone call he’d had with his mom a few days ago. She had asked him outright when he was going to marry Maryse, and at the time, he’d brushed it off, saying they were happy as they were. But now, standing in the quiet house, the weight of that question lingered.

This disagreement, the tension, the way they seemed to struggle to communicate when things got tough—it all made him think that maybe they weren’t ready for marriage yet. Sure, he loved her more than anything, but love wasn’t the only thing you needed to make a marriage work. Trust, communication, and being on the same page were just as important, and right now, those pieces felt shaky.

He hated the idea of rushing into something as big as marriage only to have it fall apart because they hadn’t figured out how to handle the rough patches. And if he was being honest, a part of him was scared—scared of the pressure, the expectations, and what it would mean if they failed.

Jack leaned against the kitchen counter, rubbing a hand over his face. He thought about how much he hated seeing her upset, how exhausting it could be to constantly feel like he had to prove himself, and how frustrating it was that she sometimes seemed to question their bond.

He loved Maryse, but this situation had him questioning whether they were truly ready for the next step. Maybe his mom was right to ask, but he wasn’t sure she’d like his answer if he told her what he was really thinking.

Still feeling unsettled, Jack grabbed his phone and called Urban, the one person he could vent to without fear of judgment. When his friend picked up, Jack immediately started talking, the frustration in his voice clear.

“Man, I don’t know what to do right now,” he began, pacing back and forth in the kitchen.

“She’s upset about this song, which, yeah, I get it, but now it’s like… I feel like no matter what I do, I’m always proving something. Like, why can’t she just trust that I’m here for her?”

Urban listened quietly before asking, “Did you talk to her about why the song hit a nerve? Or are you just assuming?”

Jack sighed. “She told me some women were talking trash in the bathroom at her meeting, basically saying she’s just a baby mama and that I’ll never marry her. And now she’s looking at me like I’m proving them right by dropping the song. But dude, that line? It’s not even about her. It’s just a bar! I write about experiences—past, present, all of it. And she knows that!”

“So, you’re saying the line isn’t about her, but… you can see why she might think it is, right?” Urban asked carefully.

“Yeah, I get it,” Jack admitted reluctantly. “But she knows me. She knows how I feel about her. And now I’m questioning everything. Like, are we even ready for marriage? Am I messing this up? It’s just… exhausting sometimes.”

“Look, dude,” Urban said, “you and Maryse? You’ve been through a lot. But it sounds like this isn’t just about the song. It’s about some bigger stuff that you two haven’t dealt with yet. Maybe instead of defending yourself, you just need to listen. Let her know you hear her. And then tell her where you’re at, too. Honestly.”

“You’re probably right,” Jack muttered.

“I usually am,” his friend teased. “But for real, talk to her. And maybe take a step back from all this ‘proving yourself’ stuff. You’re doing your best. She’s doing her best. Y’all just gotta meet in the middle.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, his voice quieter now. “You’ve become real smart since getting with Ava.”

Urban laughed, “I mean, I been trying to tell you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack muttered, shaking his head. “You and your girl got it all figured out?”

Urban laughed again “Nah, we don’t have it all figured out, but we talk to each other—even when we know it might piss the other one off.”

Jack sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah, well, that sounds real nice in theory.”

“It’s not just theory, bro. It’s work. But that’s how you build trust.”

He ran a hand down his face. He knew Urban was right, but it didn’t make things any easier.

***

When Maryse left the house she didn’t even bother getting in her car, deciding to just walk instead. She ended up at a nearby park, thankfully there wasn’t anyone around as she sat on the park bench.

Maryse grabbed her phone and called her two closest friends, Doja Cat and Saweetie. She knew they’d pick up without hesitation, and within minutes, the three of them were on a three-way call.

“What’s up, girl? You okay?” Doja asked immediately, concern in her voice.

“Yeah, you sound off,” Saweetie added. “Spill.”

Maryse sighed, curling up on the couch with a blanket. “It’s just… me and Jack. Things feel so different now. Ever since the twins came, I feel like our relationship has changed so much, and not always in a good way.”

“Changed how?” Doja asked.

“Well, for one,” Maryse began, “it feels like we’re always on different pages. Like, today, he played me this song that he's dropping soon with a line that just… it stung, you know? And I know he didn’t mean it the way it came across, but it hit a nerve after everything that’s been said about us.”

Saweetie chimed in, “You mean all the baby mama stuff people keep talking about online?”

“Exactly,” Maryse admitted. “And I overheard some women at my meeting basically calling me a glorified baby mama, and it got in my head. Then, when I heard that line in his song, it just… hurt. But the thing is, I haven’t even told him about what I heard in the bathroom because I don’t want to come across as weak or like I’m pressuring him to get married.”

“Girl, first of all,” Doja said firmly, “you’re not weak. You’re human. And you’re allowed to feel some type of way. Don’t let what those women said mess with your head. They’re projecting.”

“Facts,” Saweetie agreed. “And honestly, Maryse, if you’re feeling like this, you need to tell him. Holding it in is just going to make it worse.”

“I know,” Maryse said softly. “It’s just… everything is so different now. I love him, and I know he loves me, but it feels like we’re always arguing or misunderstanding each other. Before the twins, we were on the same wavelength. Now, it feels like we’re speaking two different languages half the time.”

“That’s parenthood,” Saweetie said knowingly. “It changes everything. But it doesn’t mean your love isn’t still there. You just gotta work a little harder to find your rhythm again.”

“And don’t forget,” Doja added, “he’s probably feeling the pressure too. Dads don’t always show it, but they stress about providing, protecting, and all that. Have y’all talked about how you’re both feeling lately? Like, really talked?”

Maryse shook her head, even though they couldn’t see her. “Not really. We’ve had moments, but I don’t think either of us has been fully honest.”

Doja sighed heavily. “You know, Maryse, I’m gonna be real with you. Since the very beginning, communication has been y’all’s main issue. Like, it’s been a pattern.”

“What?” Maryse said, slightly defensive. “That’s not true. We talk—”

“Do you, though?” Saweetie interjected. “Because, girl, I love you, but you have a habit of holding stuff in until it blows up. And Jack? He’s not exactly the king of expressing himself either.”

She frowned. “I don’t hold things in.”

Doja snorted. “Oh, really? Should I remind you about when you two broke up? How long did you keep all your feelings bottled up before it all came spilling out at once?”

“Or,” Saweetie added, “when that incident happened your album release party with Nate and you refused to answer Jack’s calls and he just wanted to make sure you were okay!”

Maryse opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She couldn’t deny they had a point.

“Okay, fine,” she admitted. “Maybe we don’t always communicate the best. But it’s not just me! He can be so stubborn sometimes, and I don’t want to seem like I’m nagging or complaining.”

“That’s the problem,” Saweetie said gently. “Y’all are both so worried about how the other person is going to react that you don’t say what’s really on your mind. That’s not nagging—it’s being honest.”

“And trust me,” Doja added, “he’d probably rather hear you vent than have you bottling it all up. That’s when the real problems start.”

Maryse sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re both right. I just… I don’t want to make things harder than they already are.”

Girl,” Saweetie said, “things are only hard because you’re making them that way by avoiding the real conversations. Y’all love each other. We all see it. But love isn’t enough if you’re not communicating. You gotta stop being scared to tell him how you feel.”

Maryse let their words sink in, realizing how much truth there was in what they were saying. She had been avoiding hard conversations, hoping things would resolve themselves, but that clearly wasn’t working.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I hear you. I need to stop avoiding things and just… talk to him.”

“Yes!” Doja exclaimed. “That’s all we’re saying. You two are solid—you just gotta act like it.”

As the conversation wound down, Saweetie sighed. “And for God’s sake, Maryse, stop walking away when the going gets tough. You do it all the time.”

“I don’t—” Maryse began defensively, but Doja cut her off.

“You aren’t even home right now!” Doja said firmly. “Every time things get hard, you shut down or leave.”

Maryse groaned. “That’s not fair. I needed space.”

“Space is fine,” Saweetie said, her tone softer now. “But you can’t just keep walking away and expect things to magically fix themselves. If you want this relationship to last, you have to face the hard stuff head-on. Together.”

Maryse sighed, knowing they were right. “I know. I just… sometimes I feel like walking away is better than saying something I’ll regret.”

Doja snorted. “Yeah, but then you leave him hanging, and that’s not fair either. He’s probably sitting there wondering what the hell is going on while you’re off avoiding the issue.”

“You’re right,” Maryse admitted quietly. “I need to stop doing that.”

Saweetie’s voice softened even more. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, girl. We just want you to be happy, and we know you love him. But love means showing up, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

Maryse felt her eyes sting with tears. “I do love him. So much. And you’re right—I need to do better. I just… I’m scared sometimes.”

“Of what?” Doja asked gently.

“Of saying the wrong thing. Of making things worse,” Maryse admitted.

Saweetie chimed in, “But avoiding it doesn’t make it better. You’ve got to trust that your love is strong enough to handle tough conversations.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “You’re right. Both of you. I need to stop running and just… deal with it.”

“Exactly,” Doja said. “Now go handle your business, and stop making us play therapist.”

Maryse chuckled through her tears. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“Anytime,” Saweetie said. “Now go fix it before we have to come over there ourselves.”

Maryse laughed. “Love you guys.”

“Love you too,” they said in unison before hanging up.

***

Maryse paused in the doorway of the living room when she finally made it back home, her hand resting lightly on the frame as she took in the sight of Jack sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked tired, frustrated, and maybe even a little defeated. She swallowed hard, her earlier resolve wavering, but she forced herself to step inside.

“Where are the twins?” she asked softly knowing that it wasn’t nap time for them yet.

Jack didn’t look up right away. When he did, his expression was unreadable, but his tone carried a sharp edge. “While you left me,” he said, his words deliberate, “I took them to my mom’s house. Figured they’d want to see their grandparents.”

Maryse blinked, taken aback by the pettiness in his voice. She hadn’t expected that. “Oh,” she said quietly, unsure of how to respond.

Jack leaned back against the couch, his arms crossed now. “Didn’t seem like you wanted to be here, so I thought I’d give you the space you clearly needed.”

Maryse bit her lip, guilt twisting in her chest. “I didn’t leave because I wanted space from you or the kids. I just walked to the park…I needed a moment to think.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “A moment, huh? You’ve been having a lot of those lately.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she took a tentative step closer. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have left like that. I was upset, but I should’ve talked to you instead of running off. I’m sorry.”

Jack’s eyes softened slightly, but his walls were still up. “Why didn’t you just say what was on your mind? Why is it always easier for you to walk away than to talk to me?”

She hesitated, struggling to find the words. “Because I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t want to say something I couldn’t take back. I’m trying to do better, I swear.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The tension in the room felt suffocating. Finally, Singer walked over and sat down beside him. She placed a hand on his arm, her touch tentative. “I’ll go pick them up,” she offered.

He shook his head. “They’re fine where they are for now. My mom was happy to have them.”

Maryse nodded, her throat tightening. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

Jack glanced at her, his expression softening further as he saw the genuine regret in her eyes. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly. “It’s not good for us. Or them.”

“I know,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

Jack exhaled, the weight of the day still heavy on him. “We both need to do better.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and after a moment, he rested his cheek against her hair.

They sat in silence for a few moments before pulling away.

Jack leaned back against the couch, arms crossed as he looked at Maryse. “Let’s just put everything out on the table,” he said firmly. “No holding back. Say what you need to say, and I’ll do the same.”

Maryse hesitated, her fingers gripping the sleeves of the hoodie she had stolen from him years ago, the fabric now soft and worn. She tugged at the cuffs absentmindedly, trying to gather her thoughts, but her mind felt like a tangled mess. Where did she even start?

Her throat felt dry as she opened her mouth, then closed it again, glancing down at her hands. “I…” she started, then sighed, shaking her head.

Jack didn’t rush her. He just watched, waiting.

She took another breath, trying again. “I feel like… things are different. Since having the twins.” She glanced up at him, searching his face. “Not in a bad way. Just… different.”

Jack’s expression didn’t change, but she could see the way his jaw tightened slightly, like he’d been thinking the same thing.

She swallowed, tugging at her sleeve again. “And I don’t know if it’s just me, but sometimes I miss how things used to be.”

The room felt heavier now, but not in a way that was unbearable. Just… full. Full of words unsaid, of feelings waiting to be unpacked.

Jack nodded slowly, rubbing his hands together as he processed her words. “I get that,” he finally said, voice low.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

And for the first time in a while, it felt like they were finally about to have the conversation they needed.

***

TO BE CONTINUED

AN: I’m posting this really late my bad but let me know your thoughts pleaseeeeee! I had to split this chapter in two parts because it was too long hehe

Tag List:

@harlowsbby @heavyhitterheaux @harlowcomehome @https-harlow @hoodharlow @gazebotori @itsyagirljaz @cosypinky2 @theyoganarrative @ann2sno @bugheadfanatic @umicornlove @venice-bxtch @muli-wam @jackharlow502 @aga21 @iknowdatsrightbih @theboujeestofboujee @babygirl-htx @chantelaustingunn @wabi-sabi1090 @dstark-0706 @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @firepuma @easternparkway

[theogbadbitch]

Reading this felt like being in a psychological thriller. I am stressed.

When I saw the warnings/tags I already knew what type of timing this man was on.

“Everything. Her yellow dress wasn't right. He didn't like the straps and how they crossed in the back. “ well excuse you , Miranda Priestly

"I'm not hungry anymore." 

"Oh,' she says, slightly disappointed. “Okay, I’ll put this alway then.” I swear my eye just twitched

"I think Daddy has been too nice to you." He paused. "And Sir, well, he may need some correction as well."  WHAT HE MEAN BY THAT???????

"You know what I do adore about you Nami is your auditory perception skills." He praised, but it was more of a back handed compliment from these new lips. "It keeps you one step ahead of me and I don't like that." Its really crazy how she can tell something’s off just by his tone

"But you are and that needs to be rectified. Don't you think?" He asked. “ mind you she hasn’t done anything?????😭

Nami get behind me QUICKLY

“Terry smelled like heavy smoke and it confused her. He always smelled clean or neutral. This scent was artificial and heavy. Intentional. Distorting. Distracting. “ chile what is going awn

"You've never come that closing to knowingly putting your hands on me. Don't make that mistake. Not tonight." I feel like thats a normal response because why are you acting odd then getting all in her face like it’s beef???😭

“Terry hummed. "Are you smart, Nami?" He replied. "Because I asked you to tell me how you're feeling and here you are asking me a question." Terry mean as hell I knew it, miss keyaho when I catch you!!

“Nami looked away from him. She didn't know how to navigate this situation. Being this close to him she noticed the scent of smoke grew thicker. Focusing on that she did begin to feel a little fear. “ chile…..

"You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either." WAIT—?!!???!!

“What?" She spoke, the word falling off her lips, accidently. “ GIRL—she never stood a chance, damn.

"You're going to hate me by the end of the night,' he speaks slowly, his hips rising from the chair while he pushes down his sweats. "Too bad I won't give a damn."  OH??????

“He hummed and reached between them to pinch her nose. “ OMG???????????

“Along the walls were riding crops, shelves of toys, a basket of lube, and the St. Andrews cross bolted to the wall piqued her interest. “ …..

“Her arm flew out as she flashed him two fingers. One of them she wanted to flash by itself. “ LMAOOO

“She didn't want out, but her body was screaming bitch run. “ Hell, I’m screaming it too !!

“You stopped counting after seven. You missed the last thirteen. I'll add it to your tab. I want you to feel it." OMG????

“A few beeps later and she was on her feet as Terry opened the trunk of the car. “

“Let’s go for a ride” omg where is he taking her????????

This whole chapter has such sinister energy 😭

"I want to see how good those skills are." He whispered in her ear. "I'm going to give you a two minute headstart. Hide from me and don't let me catch you." Hey! So this is insane

“I'm going to tear that ass up!” He told her don’t let him catch her??????

“She was beyonce aroused. “ this is obviously a typo but the idea of being “Beyonće aroused” has me HOLLERING.

You know what?? Hell yea!

"I'm a bastard I know,' he murmured. "But you like this shit,' he asked. “ such a…..interesting man

“Ice cold water pelted on her body as her eyes shot open. Nami went to move when an arm tightened around her waist. “ poor baby blacked out and don’t know what the hell going on

Terrance is an absolute menace and for Nami’s sake I hope he doesn’t come forward again anytime soon.

My nervous system is OVERWHELMED. Why I feel like I was the one being TIED and HUNTED?????

.chapter warnings: This entire part is CNC. If you are not comfortable with that as a kink please do NOT engage with the material. Another large kink warning for this chapter is that Terry is a Sexual Sadist his pleasure isn't coming from the act of p in v sex. This part is about his pleasure specifically and his kinks. Nami benefits yes, I guess you could say, but Terry stands ten toes on "you're here for my pleasure".

🟡 🟢 🔴 ⚫

.word count: 8k

Kinks explored: CNC, Anal, Shibari, Spanking, Choking, Primal Play, Sexual Sadism, Sensory Deprivation, Dacryphilia. Somnophilia. Terry is very chatty.

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites  @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove  @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo  @virgomess  @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @megamindsecretlair 

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch @zillasvilla @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther @blckblossom @solunaseira @sisinever @saturnthehumanoid @fakxmbj @beenathembo @summwerella @nubiagurlll @onherereading @harmshake @clar-ese @star017 @cocooned-butterfly @madamedantes @dezzy154 @blossom3010 @mitruscity @I-write-what-i-love @ranikyani @shurisleftearring @kyemarazack @secretlifeoofmarpessa @marshmellowtotts @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @youthfuldiatribes

.summary.: It wasn't anything Nami did to make Terry so curt with her and nothing she did could change his mood or his plans.  

Everything was pissing Terry off. He watched Nami busy herself around his kitchen. Everything. Her yellow dress wasn't right. He didn't like the straps and how they crossed in the back. He wanted her naked and he knew if he told her she would strip down for him. Yet, he didn't want that. Curling his hands into a fist he almost missed Nami walking over with a smile with their early dinner. He'd asked for the same dish she cooked two weeks ago he praised, though now he stared at the bowl of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables, pissed off. 

"Is everything okay?" 

Nami had notice his mood was off the moment he called her over. He did want to spend time with her. That wasn't the issue. Terry's eyes flickered up to Nami and then back to his plate. 

"I'm not hungry anymore." 

"Oh,' she says, slightly disappointed. “Okay, I’ll put this alway then.” 

He said nothing and she took the plate back to the stove. She found containers and stored his food in the fridge before cleaning his plate. Terry could see the unease in her tense body. 

"I think Daddy has been too nice to you." He paused. "And Sir, well, he may need some correction as well." 

The words fell on Nami like ice cold water. She didn't know what to say but she didn't like the tone of voice he was using. It was different. Off kilter and she immediately knew who wasn't here with her. Daddy had been shelved and Sir took a vacation. 

"You know what I do adore about you Nami is your auditory perception skills." He praised, but it was more of a back handed compliment from these new lips. "It keeps you one step ahead of me and I don't like that." 

"I'm not trying to be ahead of you." What she should call him still was unspoken so the air around them tingled in silence for a few seconds. 

"I'm sure you aren't." 

She could hear the chair scrape the floor as he stood up. She resumed packing away the rest of the meal she had thought they would enjoy together. She felt like he was still standing there so she continued. Only pausing when she was finished, eyes focused on his lips instead of his eyes. 

His posture was surprisingly relaxed. However, his arms were folded across his chest. His expression was unamused, lips pursed, and his eyes downcast. She realized he was sucking his teeth with a tight jaw, the gesture so unlike him. 

"But you are and that needs to be rectified. Don't you think?" He asked. 

Her 'yes' would be admitting to his statement and they both knew that. Any answer would admit it. She knew not to say 'no' because why would she lie? Nami's shoulders slumped forward slightly and she looked down at the floor. She saw his feet approach. A clean man she knew his feet were neat like his fingers. They stopped in front of her and his scent filled her nose. Smoke. Terry smelled like heavy smoke and it confused her. He always smelled clean or neutral. This scent was artificial and heavy. Intentional. Distorting. Distracting. 

"I-'

She loved his hands. She had to remember that, but when he grabbed her jaw and squeeze, Nami whimpered in pain. He tilted her head up so they made eye contact. His fingers dug into her skin so tightly she could feel him pressing against the bones in her jaw. 

"You need to look at me when you speak. That's basic respect." 

He let her go and when she began to lower her head he pushed it back up, smacking the bottom of her chin roughly. Her teeth smacked together and her eyes began to water. 

"Don't cry. I haven't done anything worth that yet." 

Terry leaned down until they were eye level. Nami, overwhelmed, lifted her hands as if was going to push him away. Ever perceptive, her Dom grabbed her by the wrists and yanked the behind her back. Holding them there in annoyance. 

"You've never come that closing to knowingly putting your hands on me. Don't make that mistake. Not tonight." He looked into her brown eyes with a glint in his own. Mischief spread through him and his lip curled upwards on one side. "You have a few minutes to let me know what you're feeling right now. Afterwards, I'm doing a refresher." 

Nami held still in his grip, her shoulders beginning to ache as he pushed upwards on her arms. They were folded across her back, but the added push kept them rigid. She winced when she tried to adjust and felt his grip tighten. 

"What's your name?" She whispered. 

Terry hummed. "Are you smart, Nami?" He replied. "Because I asked you to tell me how you're feeling and here you are asking me a question." 

Nami looked away from him. She didn't know how to navigate this situation. Being this close to him she noticed the scent of smoke grew thicker. Focusing on that she did begin to feel a little fear. 

"You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either." He let out a disappointed sigh. "I'm being mean,' he says, lowering his gaze to her, "let's do this in a way you are familiar with, shall we?" 

Terry turned around and moved to the dining table. He turned around one of the chairs and plopped down into it, a smile on his thick lips. 

"Come." 

Nami took a step and froze when he snapped his fingers. "Nah, on your knees." 

"What?" She spoke, the word falling off her lips, accidently. 

"Excuse me?" 

Nami's eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm sor-'

"Shut up and do what I said. That's the apology.." 

He could see her hesitation and if he wasn't pushing her boundaries what was the point? She was a little lamb, standing in his kitchen, and he was the wolf. He was ready to hunt. 

"I don't want to come get you, Nami." Terry scratched at his jaw. "You know the only way out of this." 

"I don't want out." She whispered. 

Terry clasped his hand together and leaned back in the seat. His legs spread and he made himself look inviting, though the expression on his face was hard. Nami sucked in a deep breath and as she lowered to her knees she let it out. She couldn't see him over the island that separated them, so she used the few seconds to collect herself. The floor was cold under her hands, as she moved one leg and hand at a time. She had her head back, knowing if she came around the corner with her head down, he'd say something. Or in his mood, do something. 

As she crawled around the island, she saw Terry glanced down at her. He didn't move, but his eyes followed her as she crawled towards to him. When she was closer enough, Terry wrapped a hand around her curls, twisting them into a makeshift pony tail he used to pull her up. 

"You're going to hate me by the end of the night,' he speaks slowly, his hips rising from the chair while he pushes down his sweats. "Too bad I won't give a damn." 

His dick springs free, semi-erect as he shimmies the sweats around his ankles. Nami's mouth opens instinctively, and he obliges. Guiding her head closer, he pushed the tip past her tongue, finding home int he back of her throat. Nami blinked through the gagging sensation, her hands bracing to the floor as his grip slackened. Terry slid closer to the edge of the chair, letting her stay on her hands nad knees with his dick pushed down her throat.

"We're about to go through your rules for today." 

Nami nodded, slurping sounds filled his ear as she willed herself to remain still. Terry pushed her head further down his shaft, stopping when her nose brushed his lower abdomen. He hummed and reached between them to pinch her nose. Nami's eyes shot up to him and he met her gaze, a wink followed before he released her. He watched her struggle to breath around his dick, choking and blubbering messily as she regained control of her ragged breaths. 

"The first,' he says, patting the top of her head, "you do not speak. You do not make a sound. I could be fucking you into oblivious and I better not hear it." He flicked her nose, a threat to pinch it again, and smiled when she inclined her head away from his touch. "How can you hear me if you're making all that noise?" 

Nami wanted to give a sound of agreement, but she waited. 

"Oh, see, that's selective listening." He ran his thumb around her lips, collecting some of the spit that had seeped out. "I want you active." 

Terry removed her from his dick, thick spit and drool flooded from her mouth and he used his hand to wipe it all over her face. 

"Eyes on me,' he snaps, tilting her chin up. "Two, if you want to stop then you need to use the safe word. Do you remember it?" 

Nami nodded. 

"Do you want to use it now?" 

Nami shook her head. 

"I'm not going to be gentle. I don't even care if you cum tonight." 

His hand is slowly stroking his dick, the tip pressed to her lips as he talks. Pre-cum leaks over her lips but she keeps them closed. 

"Three, follow my instructions." 

Nami watches him stand up, his dick flush in her face. He stepped around her and yanked the dress off, tossing it somewhere in the living room.  

"Crawl to the garage." 

Nami bit back the urge to whine. Her throat was beginning to ache and so was her pussy. As she crawled, Terry followed her. When she was a few paces from the garage door he landed a smack to her left ass cheek. It popped loudly and Nami's knee gave out from the strike. A heavy hand wrapped around her ankle and dragged her back through the kitchen and to the dining table. 

She couldn't hold back and the sudden strike to her skin made her scream. His hand hurt. The pressure he applied was tenfold. Terry rolled his eyes, and let out a breath through his nose. 

"Go!" 

He watched her crawl again, this time letting her hand wrap around the handle, before he hit her ass upwards, watching the recoil, the painful recoil. Nami pushed open the door, almost falling down the first stair into the basement. 

Terry snatched her by the back of the head and brought her too her feet. "Ten." 

He flips on the light and pushed Nami ahead of him. His hold on her hair tightening as she walks down the stairs. The room was cold. Along the walls were riding crops, shelves of toys, a basket of lube, and the St. Andrews cross bolted to the wall piqued her interest. There was a bed, but she was pushed to the floor in front of it. Her familiar yellow cuffs were already hooked to the bed. Terry sat in a chair he pulled from a side wall. Fluidly, he tosses Nami over his lap. He raises his hand and swings down, smacking her right ass cheek twice. 

"Acknowledge by holding up the right number of fingers." 

Her arm flew out as she flashed him two fingers. One of them she wanted to flash by itself. 

"You only had three rules. Easy,' he hissed, "and you broke one so quickly." 

Nami's played back the interaction a few moments ago. She crawled. Her body sagged into his legs.

Crawl to the garage. That was it. She opened the fucking door. 

Terry finished her punishment quickly. She was disoriented each time he asked for the count, but when he go to ten, she threw her hands up as high as they would go. Her ass wasn't the only thing burning. Terry had landed hits to the backs of her thighs as well. He pushed her off his lap and stood as she dropped to the floor. 

45. The submissive wants to feel used. 

She knew he was going to go through that list of kinks, but she didn't know if she wanted Terry to be the one to do them. She didn't want out, but her body was screaming bitch run.

"Are you ready to play?" 

She could hear chains and rattling. From the floor, she pushed to sit on her knees, and watched him. Colorful thick ropes dangled from his hands as he approached her naked form. Terry lowered on his haunches in front of her and his pursed lips looked inviting, but she knew better than to lean forward and seek him out. 

"I hope I won't spend the rest of the night putting my hands on you." 

He tipped her chin up with a finger. Again, Nami shook her head, still reeling from the previous spanking. 

"We're going to take this at a reasonable pace." He showed her the yellow ropes. "Hands." 

Nami clasped her hands together and held them out. The yellow rope was wrapped around them snugly. In his other hand was the end of a pully system that he connected the rope to. He stood and hooked the pulley back into the wall. There was a tug on the ropes as he tested he tension. Beside him was a table where he pulled a black eye mask from the drawer. It slammed shut and his silence began to unnerve her. She needed to hear his voice. It was fitted over her eyes. 

Darkness flooded her eyes. Unable to see him she didn't know where he was in the room. His scent was still smoky and heavy, this time laced with an urgency she could practically feel. She tried to listen, hear where he was, but was betrayed by the brown noise he started to play over speakers. The static sound didn't soothe her anticipation, it added to the cacophony of anxiety she felt. 

The pulley suddenly began to tug and Nami followed her arms as they were lifted above her head. When she was on her feet the pulley continued, lifting her to the tips of her toes before it stopped. She dangled there, barley touching the ground while trying to position her arms to they didn't lock up. 

A hand flattened against her stomach and she was pushed backwards. She swung a few inches as she pulled on the pulley to some stability. As she regain her position a rope was thrown around her stomach and tied. She couldn't make out the pattern, but she felt three knots going down her belly. His breathing was soft and she could feel his breath fanning against her face. Terry kissed her as he tested the tightness of the knots. He bit her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he pulled away. 

A heavy hand landed on her knee and pushed it towards her stomach. There was another rope, binding her leg to her thigh. It left her on one foot and she could feel the cool air between her legs, the dampness she had been trying to stifle had reared its ugly ass betraying head. His hand dipped between her thighs as he admired his work. 

"You should see how good you look." 

He circled her, his hand dragging over her sensitive skin. The ropes pressed into her. The snug binding provided the touch she was craving for a brief moment. 

"Fine ass." He breathed into her ear. "It's a shame what I have planned for it." 

She wanted him to act. 

He pulled her back against his chest. His hand crept down her stomach, dangerously close to her sex. Swatting her ass, Terry resumed being distant. She could hear ropes as they fell to the floor. A third was hooked into the knots on her stomach and she felt it being raised. Secured, Terry bought her other leg up to her chest and bound it the same as the other. The elevated open frog pose split open her slit and his greedy eyes fell to the way she was beginning to drip. He knew he was on the right track, but like her, he liked to fuck shit up too. 

He walked to the pulley on the wall that held her hands up and released it. The tension slackened so quickly that Nami anticipated falling to the ground. However, the impact never came. She had instinctively clenched her eyes shut. The blindfold reminded her she was visonless when she opened her eyes. 

Dangling from the ceiling, she was at his mercy. 

"I know you don't remember the order of kinks on the list I gave you. But I am sure you are familiar with this one, baby." 

Terry came to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips and she had learned quickly how menacing his hands could be. From giving out pleasure to swatting her ass into hell, they were becoming a terror to her temperament. When he stepped between her thighs, she could feel his bulge; firm, rigid, hard against her sex. 

"Perfect." 

He steps away from her and if only she could see the grin on his lips. 

"Acknowledge with your hands." He ordered. 

Leather. 

Wet. 

Stinging. 

He struck her with a long black riding crop on her inner thighs. Nami jerked against the only rope holding her up and Terry landed a corrective swat to her side. She twisted away from the sting. 

She held up one finger, a tremble in her hand as it dropped and dangled beside her. The pull on her stomach was uncomfortable. She felt like she was being split down the middle. The crop slid down between her breast, circled her nipples before it smacked them both. Her body tried to curl in on itself, but the rope restricted the movement. 

Each his was harder than the last, she was whimpering, trying to keep the noise down, but he wasn't making it easier. It was like he was hitting her to make her make noise. He wanted her to break. He wanted to hear her, but between the pain and his unrelenting strikes to her body, Nami felt warm. She couldn't rub her thighs together, but her pussy betrayed her even further and began to leak and drip to the floor. She wasn't sure if he noticed, but she could feel her slickness sliding between her ass cheeks. 

The crop landed between her legs, stroking her cunt and coating the leather in slick. He popped her a few times, laughing slightly as she hissed between her clenched teeth. She knew he was building up to something, but the what still thwarted her. 

For Terry she was a blank canvas and the crop was his paint brush. He littered her body with hits, ignoring the way she curled way from him. It was a game then and he chased her. The crop became an extension of him and when he drew his hand back, to swat her ass for what he was sure the hundredth time, he heard it. Like her cunt, her face was leaking. Fresh tears rolled down her face as she began to grasp as the air around her for something to hold on to. She wasn't outright crying, but when he walked to stand by her head, he could see her lips trembling. Her body was betraying her. He was elated to see her reaction. It wasn't about enjoyment.

This wasn't her playtime. 

Terry grabbed her head and pulled her up, the blood rushed down her body and she instantly felt loopy. He pulled off the blindfold, her red eyes brimmed with unshed tears. 

Nami studied his face. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking through her. Terry's tongue flatted against her cheek as he licked her tears. The salty taste almost as good as what he knew her pussy tasted like. He let her go, watching her body swing towards the floor before it was caught by her restraints. 

She doesn't remember how many time he hit her but when her body was lowered to the ground and she was turned on her stomach, she knew he had. Of course he had. 

He came to a stop beside her, the crop hung at his side. His dick strained against his sweats and threatened to burst out. Not that she'd mind it. She'd much rather be choking on dick than her tears. She pressed her forehead into the floor only for it to be yanked up. 

"You stopped counting after seven. You missed the last thirteen. I'll add it to your tab. I want you to feel it." 

Terry cut the rope around her stomach and legs, though he didn't leave her unbound for long. She could hear another drawer opening and slamming shut as she laid on the floor. 

His disregard for her was hurtful as if he didn't care about how she was feeling. 

You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either.

This time she was crying from his distance and not the physical distance. He wasn't here with her. She could usually read him and figure out how to lure softness from him. Terry had been keeping himself at a distance and only perused her body when he wanted to. She had been resistant to him the entire night, pushing back in hopes he would break, but the past few hours hadn't given her any reprieve. He just became rougher, testing her limits, and kept his emotions in check. He didn't seem to have any buttons to push and Nami whimpered into the floor. 

The rope was black this time as he pushed her on her stomach. Her feet were bound together first and he lifted them. The ache in her thighs and legs magnified as they fell to the ground with a hard thud. 

She saw a flash of yellow and a dress was tugged over her head. The blindfold was put back on and she was pulled up and over Terry's shoulder. His hands smacked the back of her thighs in jest. Mocking her for crying. 

"Oh, baby,' he jeered, "Daddy making you cry?" 

Nami felt the chill of the air as they stepped outside to his car. She noted the sunset, the various colors muddled together from the blindfold and the upside down position. 

"It's good for you. I want you pleading for me to let up and while your begging me for a break, I'm going to keep breaking you." His finger dug into the flesh of her ass. "I'm going to make you mourn, baby." 

A few beeps later and she was on her feet as Terry opened the trunk of the car. 

"Let's go for a ride." 

Nami lied in the trunk of Terry's car as he drove. He had given her a yellow dress, but between the blindfold and her tightly bound wrists, she didn't know what it looked liked. Each bump of the road jolted Nami around the trunk and she ended up on her stomach, her hogtied hands and feet up in the air. 

Positional restraint asphyxia, he had explained while she dangled from his basement ceiling. On her stomach, the strain in her arms and the tight space made the trunk feel even smaller. Nami laid her head down, breathing in slowly through her nose. He had taped her mouth shut and with the blindfold, she could only hear and it was driving her insane. The car came to a sudden stop and Nami rolled to her side unintentionally. She could hear his door slamming shut and the shuffle of his boots on the ground as he approached the back of the car. 

From the outside, Terry rubbed his gloved hand over the top of the trunk, patting it twice before it opened. Nami flinched from the sudden sound and she could hear Terry speaking. He unclipped her hands and feet before dragging her out of the car. He snatched off the blindfold and helped her stand up. 

"Welcome to my playhouse,' he muttered, a grin slowly creeping on his lips. 

Legs weak, Nami was pushed towards the large house. She looked around in the cover of night, eyes blurry, and saw a long path that led to the backyard. She could see tall bushes over the fence line. Terry dragged her up the steps, picking her up off her feet twice to get her up the stairs faster. There was no change in his breathing, no struggle, no pause. 

"I did what you liked,' he said flippantly, "now we'll do what I like." 

Had they done what she liked? Maybe she liked being tied, but the way he tied her wasn't what she would call fun. As her eyes began to adjust, she noted the darkness of the house. She stood in the foyer, the new surroundings heightening her anxiety for what was to come. He left her there and she looked around, taking only a few steps into the living room. 

Terry was a man starved at this point. He tasted her sweet pussy and wanted more. He needed more from her but he wanted her leaking everywhere. He wanted to choke her full of his dick. 

Like a lumberjack, Terry stalked into the living room dressed in all black. His outfit consisted of his tactical gear, a grin, heavy boots and he even had a pair in his hand. Nami stood there, the rope bruises decorated her arms and legs in red and yellow splotches, the yellow peasant dress covered just enough. As sheer at it was she might as well be naked. She much preferred that than to this. He knelt in front of her and helped her into the boots. His rough hands trailed up her legs and back down. His eyes were lustfull with pupils blown like he was on drugs. 

He stood up and pointed towards the back yard. 

"I want to see how good those skills are." He whispered in her ear. "I'm going to give you a two minute headstart. Hide from me and don't let me catch you." 

He pushed her towards the back patio door. He told her nothing about the house. It was designed by a company who specialized in primal play. The entire house was a Dom's version of paradise. The unique feature Nami pushed the door open and ran into was a maze. It was around six feet high of thick bushes. It was artificial for safety as on each wall of the bushes was a kill switch to flatten them to the ground. It was dark and the ground lighting was few and far in between. She had just enough to see. It was cool, the air a bit chilly in the temperature controlled place. Nami's heart raced in her chest as she rounded corner after corner, looking for a hiding spot. 

"Fuck,' she cursed, panting as she came to a halt at a dead end. 

She turned around, managing to slip down another pathway that led towards a fountain. She had two options to pick from and as the blood rushed behind her ears her eyes darted between each choice. 

“You’re so fucking loud, Nami, damn. You’re making this too easy.” 

Terry strutted into the area just a few paces from where she stood. 

“Come here.”

Nami took a step backwards. He shook her head, remembering the words he told her just five minutes ago. Don’t let me catch you.  

Nami turned on her heels and bolted down one of the paths. It was darker and colder in this area and she realized he set different temperatures for certain paths. Her breathing became labored as the path came to an end. Nami slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her panting. The bushes were moving. He was running. This time he was too close to turn and go back. She could hear his heavy boots as they smacked against the ground. Nami clenched her eyes shut as his boots stopped just on the other side of the bush. She could vaguely see his silhouette as he drew closer. His boot came into her line of sight first. Then his legs. In the dark she could barely make out his features. 

“Found you,” he sings in a whisper. 

Nami takes a step back, the bushes stopping her. Her dominant reached out for her and she shook, dodging his attempt to grab her. Terry loudly kissed his teeth. 

“Don’t play with me.” 

Nami wasn’t just going to let him catch her. If he wanted to play then she’d play. Nimble, she waited for him to grab her a second time. She lifted her hands and slipped out his grasp, using the momentum, she spun and put space between them.

"Nami." 

He reached for her and curled his hand around her neck. He was standing to his full height, breathing heavy, and she dropped her weight, the sudden change causing his grip to slacken. She smacked his hand away and ducked under him. 

“Nami,” he growled. “If I get my hands-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish that sentence. Instead she ran back down the path, stumbling and detouring to the left instead of the right. These pathways were shorter, less dead ends but more curves and cut away bushes. She slipped in and out of them, panting from frustration as it seemed like she was running in a circle. 

Her chest burned as she tried to keep her breathing down. She didn’t want to make too much noise and alert him to where she was. She also couldn’t drag this chase out. He wasn’t going to let her get away so easily a third time. She could hear the frustration in his voice a few minutes ago. 

I'm going to tear that ass up! 

His voice echoed through the maze and she couldn't pinpoint where he was. 

When I get my fucking hands on you! 

Nami's head snapped up then she looked down where the lights were. His shadow stalked closer and she walked backwards. He as on the other side of the bushes, just within reach, but out of sight. Slapping her hands over her mouth, Nami tried stepping forward, but his shadow stopped. Surely, if she could see his, he could see hers.  

"Oh, look at that,' he teased darkly, "there she is." 

She pressed herself against the bushes opposite of where he stood. She side walked, hoping he couldn't see her moving. 

"There's no way to get away from me." He tsks. "You go left, I'll see you. If you take the right, that makes it easier to catch you. And Nami,' he says, his voice lowering, "when I catch you." He breathed in and let out a low moan. "That pussy is mine." 

The thrill of the chase was wearing down as his threat on her cunt was said. Though, her clit throbbed at the possibility of being touched again, but her thighs still stung from his earlier punishment. She knew this time would be worse. He planned to lay into her. The soft material of the dress rubbed roughly against her taut nipples. She was aroused in a way that scared her. 

“Come on out.” He sung. “I won’t bite too hard.” 

She had to go left. Nami kicked off the boots, they were heavy and she was much lighter on her bare feet. The thick white socks followed and she tossed them over the hedge she knew he'd look, even for a millisecond- so she B O L T E D. He was right, he would see her if she went left, but in her haste and only when she rounded the corner that she realized she ran past him. Her body flung to the left, nearly toppling to the ground as she skipped slash skidded around the corner. She was sweating at this point and she wiped her forehead with the back of her hands. Her curls were damp around her face and the pretty bow he shoved in her hair had unwoven and was half hanging on to a curl. 

"This nigga,' Nami thought to herself. 

The slight skin tingling feeling of fleeing Terry had ignited a fire in her lower belly. She dared herself and reached between her legs. Sticky. Wet. 

"Can't believe it can you,' Terry says as he approaches. "This nigga what?" He asked. 

Fuck. 

"This game was supposed to have a much……easier endgame, but you like to fuck shit up right at the finish line." 

He looked and pointed over her shoulder. 

"This is the Cave." He explained. "All pathways lead here unless I lead you out." He pulled his phone from his pocket and she figured he opened an app that changed the lighting. "Sound proof, underground." He mused. 

Nami's head snapped up. Underground? Sound proof? Terry watched her; the way her shoulder slumped forward, but he could see she was trying to remain engaged. She had no idea what she had agreed to and standing there she had no idea how she was making Terry feel. Bricked. 

The chase had awakened a piece of him he reserved for work. For training other soldiers. For when he was in the field. She was a target. His two worlds clashing in a satisfactory way and he felt the dopamine release, his body tingling with his own thoughts of filth and hard debauchery. 

He was on her in seconds, hands ripping the fabric of her dress. He pushed her backwards, the ground changing from a hard gym mat material to plush carpets and tile. The end of the maze was a bedroom, stocked with whatever the renter needed at the time. There was an ensuite as well. Terry grabbed at Nami; her waist, her hips, thighs, whatever he could as he kissed her. She was guided to the bed and pushed to the center of it. He shed the gear and she realized it was weighted. Beneath it, his shirt was drenched in sweat and she knew her body was as well. He covered her body with his own, his clothes ending up somewhere across the floor. 

"I should be fucking you right now. But instead, you made a lot of noise tonight. You had the audacity to cum when I told you not too, and you touched my pussy. You. Touched. Me." 

Naked, Terry knelt between her legs, his hands sliding around her waist. His tip brushed through her wet slit, bumping her clit with each upward stroke. 

"I mean,' he grunted, pushing in just the tip, "I know I'm going to fuck you like I hate you." He sunk a few inches deeper, his thumb finding her clit easily. "I'm going to push you to the edge, then snatch you back." 

Nami felt her mouth slide open, her jaw aching as he slid two fingers into her mouth. He pressed them to the back of her tongue as his hips moved slowly between her legs. 

"I should be fucking you like this,' he hums, accentuated his words with shallow thrusts. "But you disobeyed me." He flashed her a toothy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm bullshittin',' he joked. 

"I was never going to fuck you like this." 

Tired was an understatement. Nami's limbs were weak, her shoulders sore, his thighs ached, and her ass felt raw. Terry had laid into her like he said he would and he she was, counting out the slaps to her ass again. 

33. 

Thirty-three. 

He added the thirteen from earlier and had been very intent on her counting each one of them. 

Nami was positon on her hands and knees while he stood in front of her, pumping his dick in and out of her mouth. Her hands dug into the bed, gripping the sheets as he rode her face. The swell of her ass was read, fifteen hits later, and he broke off to fuck her throat. Her collar, which he had taken off prior to the start of all this, was replaced with a belt that was snug around her neck. The rest of the belt was curled around his hand as he pulled, listening to her gag and struggle to breath. He reached down, pinking her nose closed before shoving his dick across her tongue. 

He pulled out and released her nose, the belt slacked and right before he struck her ass for the sixteenth time, he collected her spit and drool in his hand to use. Nami raised her hand, signing the number sixteen before her attention went back to the dick in her mouth. 

"That's it,' he coos tauntingly, 'suck my dick." 

Her head bobbed up and down as she looked up at him. His eyes were on her, focused, but didn't show any emotion or even pleasure. 

"Such a good little slut." He crooned. "This is what you're here for,' he explained. "There you go,' swallow that shit,' he grunt, pushing into her mouth and holding her still again. 

The tension on the belt was sure to leave marks, but Nami was beyond caring. There were no mirrors but when she looked at her wrists and saw the bruising, she knew her body matched. She was littered in red hand prints and rope bruises. She felt the him deep in her bones. Terry was unsettling. His voice lacked emotions. Though she understood the dick twitching in her mouth. 

Terry pulled her of, his dick falling out of her mouth with a wet pop. her mouth was flooded with spit and precum and she pooled it in her mouth before pushing it out. Terry watched it stream to the bed, creating a puddle. 

"Turn around, ass up." 

The anal plug he had neglected shone as the light hit it. He'd been admiring it all night, watching the way it was sucked in each time she clenched. Placing a hand between her shoulders, he pushes Nami into the bed as his dick slipping through her wet slit. 

He didn't ask if she was ready. His hips snapped forward and she almost slide across the bed. How could she want something and pull away from it at the same time. Her pussy was sore and swollen from his lack of attention. She was beyonce aroused. 

She feel him grab the belt against and she's pulled backwards by it. 

Ride it like hydraulics, I am such a tyrant….

One hand planted on her hip he kept her still as his thrust in-and-out while she clung to the bed on her knees. She clenched her teeth with each thrust, stomaching all nine and a half inches from the shallow thrusts. He didn't hold her for long. His hand resumed striking her ass. As if she could see him, she stretched her arm out, counting seventeen in sign language like she had when she reached ten earlier. He followed through with a few more strikes and she clenched around him. He pulled back on the belt and she gagged, tongue rolling out her mouth as she reached towards the belt. 

"Oh?" He says, his hips snapping against her so roughly he could feel his balls slapping up against her clit. "Is this too much?" 

He knew it was. Pushing her back down, he ditched the belt and held her hips. He pulled back to watch how his dick slipped in and out of her. Terry admire his own work. How he stretched her open, how he pulled more and more slit from her pussy, and how he was the cause of her drooling. The silence between them was loud, but couldn't get any louder than the sounds her pussy was making. 

"Dick makes you act right, hm?" Terry slapped her ass twice, alternating cheeks. He brought her up, and pressed his chest to her back. "You should be doing that regardless. Nothing a little correction won't fix." 

The loss of his dick had Nami searching for him again. She felt his hands as they flipped her onto her back. The bed was pulled from her neck and she reached up to touch the sore skin. Her throat was sore and when she had full control of her breathing, Nami turned on her side, erratically sucking in as much air as she could. Terry felt like a distant participant. As if the motions he was going through were robotic and disconnected from the relationship they had built. He put up a solid wall between them, encasing her in his world without letting her into his. This was more than a physical game. It was mental. He was in her head and it made her question her own reality. 

Was she really at this man's mercy?

The anal plug, in it's cute silver and yellow design, was pulled from her ass and tossed beside her head. Something was opened as the sound of a cap filled her ears. Cool and thick, lubricant was drizzled between her legs and his fingers smoothed from her ass to her clit. 

"Pussy fat as fuck,' he noted, "a fucking shame I didn't want to eat it." 

Grabbing her chin, he forced her to look at him. As he had any time he was in her face. "This is where I'm going to nut tonight,' he says as the fat tip of his dick pokes around her asshole. 

The sensation was new and she wiggled as her legs spread to accommodate his body between them. His initial push was slow, the stretch past the first ring of muscles made her hands clench beside her. This was something she wished he had bound her for. 

Nami's hands became sweaty, her legs move towards her chest as she tried not to kick him away as he pushed forward again. Inch my painstakingly thick inch, Terry seated himself in her ass. Hot and tight, he drew back for his first thrust. She didn't know how to feel. Instead, she braced her hands on the back of her thighs. Nami was well aware of how thick his dick was. She had it down her throat and stuff in her pussy like she was a Thanksgiving turkey. He felt bigger, thicker, longer, reaching parts of her that release pleasurable feelings. Feeling him in her ass was different. He stretched her open, mold her ass to his dick, and fucked her roughly. Terry planted his hands on the sides of her head as his hips rocked back and forth. 

"Nasty ass,' he hissed, spittle landing on her face the same way his sweat had. "Look at me when I'm fucking you." 

Nami knew it would come back to haunt her later, but she flattened her hands against his stomach, needing a break from the sensation of being fucked in the ass. Terry didn't stop moving, but she saw the glint in his eyes and could hear the gears turning in his head as he logged away her rule breaking for later. 

He bore down, applying more weight to his thrusts, jerking her up the bed until he had her by the headboard. Terry braced one hand on the headboard and the other grabbed Nami's hands and pinned them above her head. 

"I know you aren't running," he moaned, the sound deep and growl-like. 

"Please,' she whispered, "Terry, please, I can't….' 

His name felt foreign on her lips.

Terry ignored her please, her body twisting beneath him to get away from him egged him on. Encourage him. He let go of the headboard, balancing on his knees, before his hand struck her outer thigh. 

"Shut up." He seethed. 

It had all set in for Nami as he fucked her. His body taut and rigid as he chased his high. She could feel his dick throbbing, the stuttering in his hips as he faltered and fell forward, almost on top of her. 

Her touch triggered him and though he knew it wasn't sexual, his body treated it like it was. Her hands on his stomach felt she had unlocked his orgasm. The fire in his belly built fast, but Terry was faster. He pushed her face into the bed, his weight spread out over his hand and hips. That hand slid down and wrapped around her neck. His thumb pressed into her skin, rubbing back and forth as he chased his own high. 

Beneath him Nami was a mess. She had wrapped her legs around his waist. With no other place to put them she used them to hold on to her dom as he did Dominate things to her ass. Weeks of prep didn't prepare her for the real thing. Being rode like a horse, Nami's breathing hitched, her own orgasm nearing. Her eyes fluttered as she watched his face. The lines around his eyes crinkled as he smirked. 

"I'm a bastard I know,' he murmured. "But you like this shit,' he asked. 

Did she? Or was it the satisfaction she was chasing that she liked, because Terry? Let me chase you Terry? This fucking mean tyrant?  

"You're mean,' she breathed out, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "So mean,' she cried. 

His fingers found her swollen clit. He played with it roughly, pulling, pinching, and rubbing so harshly that Nami didn't know if she was coming or going. Her toes began to curl, back arching upwards before he slammed his hand into her chest and pushed her into the bed. It disoriented her and she lost the orgasm. 

"I think the fuck not." He shouted. 

Ice cold water pelted on her body as her eyes shot open. Nami went to move when an arm tightened around her waist. 

"Keep still baby,' Terry whispered. 

Nami tensed. She opened her mouth to protest when Terry whispered in her ear for her to relax and calm down. 

"Hey,' he says, when she beings to panic, her body shaking from his touch. 

Confusion knit through his brows as they drew together. She didn't know where she was. She just knew the person she was with probably wasn't done with her. The aches in her body detailed the night she had with her dominate. The reminders were littered all over her body. 

"Nami." 

How was she going to apologize for blacking out? 

Terry turned her around and she realized they were sitting on the floor of the shower. 

"They scene is over. I need you to look at me and take a few deep breaths." 

He held her face in his hands. The gentleness drastically different from what she had experienced that day. She didn't know what time it was. She just knew that she was overwhelmed, wired, and slightly scared. He leaned in to kiss her and she flinched. He took no offense. He knew she had to fully come down from that high. Everything he put her through wasn't normal by most standards. He pushed her to her limits mentally and Nami wasn't sure how she felt. For her their dynamic had shifted. She couldn't treat this like some one off or some once in a blue moon event. Terry had flipped her inside out. Rewired her in a way she didn't understand. He owned her body at this point.

He used her. 

"Tell me how you're feeling." 

There was still an edge to his voice. A bite he was trying to ease away. 

"I'm sore." She croaked. "I touched you. I'm sorry!" Her voice cracked and she started to cry again. "I passed out!" 

Terry was far from upset with her. He had spent the day dragging her through his ticks and the fact that she only touched him, intentionally, once was a miracle. How she was able to have that restraint when he was unrestrained on her body needed some rewarding. 

"36." He replied. "I still fucked you. I made you into my little Twinkie, twice." 

"Huh?"

36. The submissive wants to experience somnophilia. 

He ignored her and turned on the warm water. Helping her to her feet, he held her up and bathed her. Starting his aftercare while she regained some strength to stand on her own. He kissed each bruise, rope mark, and red splotch on her warm brown skin. His praise mingled with the rhythmic pelting of the shower water on the tiles. 

You did good. 

Such a good girl you were. 

Nami let her head fall back against the shower wall as he lowered to his knees. Her leg was lifted up and onto his shoulder. His mouth latched onto her clit, sucking slowly as she looked down at him. 

Those blue green eyes stared back up at her. She recognized them this time and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

"Oh, Daddy,' he whimpered. "I missed you." 

[10ava01]

The smartest mistake

Scott Miller x F reader

Troupe: Rival x Rival | Hurt/Comfort | Academic stress & clever Minds | Angst to Softness

Authors note: to anyone that felt like a wasted potential for not being perfect in the academic world.

Summary: Scott and reader are (MIT) academic rivals but all the bickering and teasing comes to an end when reader beaks down in front of him.

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You were used to competition, but HE made it personal.

Sharp remarks, constant bettering, smug smirks when he outperformed you by a fraction of a point. Sure, he was brilliant, and in an alternate universe, you might have tolerated him—but not in this one. For whatever reason, he was cruel. Not just to you, but to others, too.

When your fellow students admired you, he tore you down.

When you tried to stay focused, he distracted you with his taunts, his teasing, and his oh-so-beautiful face. A devil disguised as a pretty boy—that’s what he was.

But today, of all days, you’d had enough.

Enough of his insults.

Enough of the stress that haunted your sleep.

Enough of the pressure that made you want to cry until you had no tears left.

You had enough.

It starts in the late hours of the night, in the dimly lit library, with equations swimming in front of your exhausted eyes. Your body begs for a break, but another exam looms ahead. Another round of impossibly high expectations.

And another opportunity for him to outshine you.

It’s all becoming too much.

You’re running on caffeine and sheer willpower, fingers trembling as you scribble notes, but the numbers won’t make sense. The pressure is suffocating. It’s a miracle your body is still functioning.

And then, just your luck—he arrives.

You don’t look up when he sits across from you, but you can feel his eyes on you. Probably planning his next witty remark.

“Struggling, are we?” His voice is laced with mockery. “That’s new.”

Your grip on the pen tightens. The last bit of self-control you have is slipping fast.

“Not now, Miller.”

He leans forward, voice lower now, but no less antagonizing.

“Miller, huh? What’s the matter? You’re usually so eager to prove me wrong.”

You snap.

Of course, you do. There’s only so much a person can take.

“DO YOU EVER JUST—SHUT UP?”

The words come out harsher than intended, but you don’t care anymore. You slam your pen down, hands shaking, vision blurring. The weight of everything—expectations, the fear of failure, loneliness—it all crashes down at once.

His smirk falters. “Whoa—”

You shove your books away. “I don’t have time for this. I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOU. You think I care about competing with YOU? Well, I DON’T! I just—” Your breath hitches. “I just want to be good enough for once.”

And then—it happens.

Your body betrays you.

Tears spill over, your shoulders shake, and silent sobs escape. You curl into yourself, burying your face in your hands, overwhelmed and so damn tired.

You just want everything to stop.

Silence.

You expect him to laugh.

To mock you.

To throw another insult and walk away victorious.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, you hear a chair scrape against the floor.

Then—hesitation. A slow inhale.

And then his voice, softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You didn’t even know he was capable of speaking that way.

“You are.”

Your head snaps up. His expression is unreadable, but something in his eyes—guilt, maybe—makes your chest tighten.

Scott fucking Miller, the biggest asshole on this planet, is being soft. And not toward just anyone—toward you.

You. His biggest academic rival.

He clears his throat. “Good enough, I mean.” His fingers tap restlessly against the table, his usual ego wavering. “I—shit, I didn’t mean to push you this far.”

You blink at him, stunned. “What?”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe you’ll wake up, and he’ll go back to his usual, arrogant self.

He sighs, running a hand through his stupidly perfect hair.

“You think I’m an asshole for no reason?” A humorless chuckle. “I—I don’t know how else to—” He groans, frustrated with himself. “I only act like this because… you’re the only person who makes me try. Who actually challenges me.”

Your breath catches. “You—umm—what?”

Now you’re sure this is a dream.

Never in your life did you think Scott would admit something like this.

His jaw tightens, but he meets your gaze head-on.

“I’ve never— I don’t hate you, Y/N. I—you have to… I know it’s hard to believe because of how I’ve treated you, but—” A pause.

Then, even quieter: “I truly admire you.”

The confession knocks the air from your lungs.

“Then why—” You exhale shakily, wiping at your eyes.

“Why treat me like this?”

He hesitates before answering.

“Because I didn’t know how else to show it.”

There’s something so raw in his voice. Something so unguarded that your frustration wavers.

He looks… lost.

Like he’s been carrying something heavy for a long time and doesn’t know how to put it down.

A beat of silence.

Then, carefully, he reaches across the table, nudging a napkin toward you.

“You, uh… you have mascara on your cheek.”

You huff a watery laugh, taking the napkin. “You’re still an ass.”

He smirks—his usual cocky smirk—but it’s softer this time.

“I know.”

And maybe—for the first time—you truly see Scott.

Not just as your rival.

Not just as an obstacle.

But as someone who, in his own fucked-up way, understands you more than you’d like to admit.

[addicted-to-dc]

Jekyll/Hyde Part 4 - Taskforce 141 x Reader

< Prev Chapter

(A/N): After battling Word (and myself) I finally present the new chapter! I promise I've been planning out the story, it just became more complex than originally intended (as all my writing tends to be). Shit's going to get juicy.

Tags for those who encouraged me to write this (: @greeniegreengreen @aeilani  @poetslastdeath

Content Warnings: PTSD, Violence, descriptions of wounds, previous taskforce betrayal, angst. As always, if I'm missing tags do not hesitate to message me or post a comment.

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The ringing is back. High-pitched and sharp, it slices through the synapses of your mind. Pressure builds and builds until it’s all you can think about. Your eyes remain closed until a firm grasp on your hair brings you back to the present.

Urszula’s fist tightens, threatening to take another large chunk of hair. Blood seeps from unseen wounds, obscuring your vision in your right eye. Everything’s tinted red, including Maryna. Your head pounds in the same rhythm as her laughter. Cackling more like.

Your weapons and armor were stripped long after you sent the dogs to scout the area. It's a stupid, predictable mistake that’ll cost you your life. It already cost you your trust, security, and faith. What else are you going to lose?

“The Huntress is speechless? I thought I’d never see the day, Captain!” Maryna teases, kneeling beside your shaking figure. “All that planning and effort, only for the rug to be pulled from beneath you.”

She tears off your mask, chuckling as she drops it onto the ground and shatters the lower jaw with her boot. Rage blooms heat across your body, snarling at her before you can even stop it. You fight against Urszula’s hold, screaming when the struggle costs you a fist of hair. Your nails scrape against her single hand holding them back. Then you feel something along her belt, dangling precariously from its activator. You always told her to reorganize her equipment. Good thing she never listened to you.

Maryna spits at your feet, her hand squeezing your jaw so bone grinds against bone, “Just as feral as the mutts you take in, Little Huntress. Your ferality won’t save you now, nothing will.”

Your hand grips the grenade, squeezing tightly as you lean forward. 

The grenade explodes, sending smoke everywhere. You launch your head forward, losing a handful of hair but gaining a satisfying scream curdling the air when you rip her nose off. The grip on your hands slackens enough to roll away and activate your panic button. The dogs will get here soon enough. 

Holding in your coughs, your lungs burn as rage and determination urge you forward. Once you break free from the smokey shroud, your eyes immediately catch your rifle lying with the rest of your equipment. It’s dismantled. Fuck. You snatch your knife and a Semtex. 

Using the snow for cover, you distance yourself from the sisters and try to think. Your head wound feels like it’s rattling, your brain’s knocked loose and bouncing against your skull. Taking some snow, you wipe your face down and move on. The cold melts against your hand, numbing your mind to what you’re about to do. You’re washing your hands of this. It’s you versus the world right now, and you’re going to WIN.

Your eyes snap back to the smoke, watching as Urszula stumbles out coughing. Maryna follows, clutching her nose. Your pistol is in her hand. Bitch. 

Whenever a soldier breaks, they usually describe it as a snap. Something pulling taut and breaking. Other times it meant losing a piece of yourself, something digging in and tearing a vital section out. So why does it feel freeing? Why does it feel like you were missing something until now? A release rather than a fracture.

Readjusting your grip, the knife hits its mark in Maryna’s hand. She drops the pistol. Good. Polish swears echo to the high heavens, but your brain fails to translate them as you tackle her to the ground. She raises her bad hand to block you, unwittingly presenting the handle to you.

It feels as if you’re removing an ancient sword from a stone. A godly being offering a weapon of divine salvation and promise, whispering that this isn’t over yet. Take up your arms and keep fighting. 

Her hand gives way and splits in two, blood gushing as you drive the blade into her chest repeatedly. Urszula’s hands try to wrap around you again, but your knife sinks into her throat. Wide eyes stare back as she lands next to her sister, gasping for air that’ll never fill their lungs again. You wipe the bloody knife on their clothes and sheath it. 

The Semtex feels heavy in your hand, but even the new weight doesn’t prevent you from pulling the pin. It practically feels weightless when you toss it. The fire will purge all.

The explosion jostles the world with its power, sending pieces of the sisters to rain upon you. This is the calm before the storm. You know it. The broken mask lays at your feet in the aftermath, a cruel mirror revealing what this is. What you’ve become. Kneeling, you grab the face plate. Only the jaw section is broken, following the curve of the boot that crushed it. 

It fits your face perfectly, the damage leaving your mouth and lower jaw open to the elements. Then you hear barking. Too close-

“I think the lad’s had enough, Jekyll.” Price.

Snapping into the present, you see Ruse in your hands. He’s panting with a wild smile and crazed eyes, groaning as he maneuvers to get more pets. You rustle him up before leaning back, leaving him to wander back to Sir and Bear. The pup huffs at the interruption, groaning as he collapses between the elder dogs.

“Nearly cuddled the poor pup to death,” Sunshine teases, leaning over to give Bear ear scritches. She leans in, tilting her head to the side until she finally starts kicking her leg out. “Good Bear.”

Sir huffs at the lack of attention but quickly rolls to his side when Price gives the suffering pup belly rubs. A smile creeps onto your face. Small, but still there. It’s been a while since they joined you on a mission. It was too risky without a full-time task force. You hope this one sticks. They warmed up quickly. 

Leaning back, you close your eyes and exhale loudly. You know you have hours left on the trip. A cold nose hits your hand three times, urging you to open your eyes. Sir sits once your eyes are on him, tail wagging. 

“Wha’s he waitin' fer?” 

Your eyes flick to the Scot’s, reaching into the pack next to you to pull out a knotted rope. You toss it over, watching him catch it. Sir stalks up to him, sitting. His tail wags, waiting not so patiently to play. He whines, shifting from one paw to the other before changing tactics. 

“Gaz, can ye?” 

Bear’s deep love noises capture your attention, and you turn to see her leaning on Sunshine for more cuddles. “A bit occupied, mate.”

She hasn’t done that to someone other than you since Dane. Bile threatens to curdle your stomach. Sir speaks, barely stringing along a few syllables. He stomps his paw, glaring at him while speaking again. He’s telling him off.

He bites onto the rope, moving it further onto his lap, and sits again. What a patient boy.

Mohawk finally gives in to the puppy dog's eyes, gripping fiercely onto the rope when Sir latches onto it. He shakes his head but fails to tear the rope away, tail wagging as he realizes how strong the man is. The Scot’ll keep him occupied for a while at least. 

You grab your journal out of your duffel, nearly snagging its leather binding on the teeth of the bag’s zipper. Huffing, you open the page and dig around for something of substance to read. Something familiar to distract yourself from the thought of HIM. Training tactics and notes about the dogs’ feeding schedule, but nothing works. 

“’Ow’d you get into training ‘em?”

Your eyes snap to Ghost. His gloved hand firmly holds Sir’s rope, holding it steady as the dog struggles to budge an inch. Even Sir’s usual jerky motions and feigning are in vain. An unmovable object. You wonder if the past would be different if you were able to get him before Price did.

“Training dogs in general or these furballs?” you ask. The question is too open-ended for you.

“The furballs.” 

Sir jerks again. Ghost retaliates with a tug of his own. Nails scrape against metal alongside Sir’s low growl. The noise makes your hand twitch, instinctive to gravitate towards a weapon. At least your journal covered it. 

“Sir’s my second dog,” you start, mentally unraveling stored-away memories. “He was the runt of a litter I found in Germany, kept him myself, and gave the rest to the other trainers.”

“Why the runt? Hey!” Sunshine protests as Bear crawls onto his lap, smiling up at him. He doesn’t stay mad for long, melting under her attention. You don’t even realize you’re smiling until-

“What happened to the first?” 

Price’s question sends a zing of hurt through your system. “Helen. They sold her to a mercenary group while I was away, and claimed she was the bright start of a new program. I could have followed her, hell, they tried to use her to get me to leave.”

It would have been so much easier. A fully funded program with yourself on top, and glory at your fingertips, but it all felt wrong. Too easy. Like someone was guiding you with a blindfold, saying that it was just dark.

“I had to restart everything after she left. Sir was tough, but he helped make improvements and train these two. Bear was rescued from a shelter, and legally mine to prevent another incident from happening. Ruse…”

You stare at his face. His tongue bounces back and forth alongside his rapid breaths, tail wagging as soon as he makes eye contact with you. He still hasn’t grown out of his puppy phase. You hope he doesn’t. “Ruse was found on an op, barely a month old when I found him at a dog fighting ring.”

“Enemy dog, you’re sure he won’t switch sides?” It’s a joke. You know it is, but it sends a jolt in your system. Too easy to read. Sunshine catches up on his own words, the scrunch in his brow giving it away. “Sorry, the little bugger is probably wrapped around your finger.”

All four of you look at him, which makes his tail wag even more. He whines and leans closer to Price, licking his face before stealing his hat. “Fucker. Drop it.”

That steals a laugh from you. Deep and guttural. 

Ruse sighs and drops it, migrating to you with his tail tucked between his legs. He collapses at your feet, huffing before nuzzling closer. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, he knows who his mama is. It’s just a preference for the runts; they have more room to grow.”

Ghost releases the rope. The release sends Sir back as he tugs, landing on top of Ruse. The pup nips at him before stealing his rope.

His eyes are still on you. Dark, endless voids hungry for something you can’t quite place. Maybe you’re projecting. It’s enough intensity to want to make you sink your teeth into his neck, but that’ll for sure get you shoved into the looney bin. You’d just break out. No one’s been able to hold you for long. Your finger finds the burns lining your right leg, the textured skin grounding you. Get a grip on yourself. 

“Shadow Company, that’s who has Helen.”

You nod, petting Ruse when he whines. “Yeah, they nearly had me too. If this hadn’t worked out...”

You dare not utter the words. Speak it into existence and it’ll come true. The open invitation to Shadow Company is a temptation that will lead you to your death. Whether it’s physically or morally will be a toss of a coin. Be under Sheperd’s thumb or risk torture and death for using Shadow company to get to them. You’re supposed to be dead, and yet the offer still found you. The pit in your stomach grows.

A hand on your shoulder jolts you out of your thoughts, head snaps up to see Ghost standing before you. He shakes your shoulder a bit, confusing you even more. He chuckles, quiet and raspy. His hand moves to your chin, but you snatch it before it touches the scarred flesh. “Easy there, Jekyll, just trying to shake those notions out of your head.”

You scoff, but his other hand succeeds in what the other couldn’t. Your jaw firmly grasped in his gloved hand, the knit material scratching your skin. The dogs begin to growl at Ghost, but you hold your hand up. They stop immediately and shuffle over to Price. Everyone watches in silence.

Then he just shakes your head. Confusion morphs into understanding, and when it finally clicks, he steals a laugh out of you. Then another when he continues, doubling down before giving you respite. “Anymore rattling in there?” 

“Rattled out,” you respond, jumping when he squeezes your chin. “Careful, Lieutenant, I bite.”

A low, gravelly chuckle escapes through the barrier of the mask. He doesn’t let go, only dragging his fingers until the scratch of his gloves is out of range. 

You lean back and rest your head against the cool metal of the transport. At least that will dull the ache of the pain of your memories.

[ripgray-moved]

it's the way i just want people to love and be invested in peter after all the hard work i've put in him tbh.

[cantfightmoonlight]

“In your reality, maybe," He muttered under his breath as she insisted that her own perspective was the only version of the truth that could possibly exist. "Still not measuring up? Still? When were all of these other times I apparently rejected you before your birthday?" He blinked over at her in disbelief. "For the love of god, I can not read your mind! I'm not going to assume anyone wants me to kiss them unless they make it explicitly clear that they do or ask and, as for that night, did you ever think what might have happened if you stuck around longer than 60 seconds to find out? You were the one who ran out. You had already decided the way the night would go before you even gave me a chance to make a move, because yeah, my reaction wasn't 'enthusiastic' enough for you, and you can feel disappointed, but the part of the night, you seem to be forgetting is how I went after you. I went after you and, in doing so, was jumped, drugged and dragged out of town." If she wanted to talk disappointment, how the fuck did she think he felt when he was chained to the wall waiting for anyone to find him only to discovered that no one had even looked?

"Try and understand things from your perspective?" He genuinely scoffed at that. While, he wasn't about to make her feel bad for not having searched for him when he was gone, the notion that he hadn't been trying to understand things from her perspective before was rich coming from her. "Who the hell's perspective do you think I was trying to view shit from when I said I wasn't trying to embarrass you?" He exclaimed. As if him not wanting to put her on the spot and embarrass her by bringing up how she got drunk, showed up at his job in front of his coworkers and started to strip down was such a hot take. "You know, what? You're right, Dilan. I'm a fucking disappointment. I clearly don't act the way you want me to and never will."

"No..." His own voice sounded raw and agitated as he watched her standing there, arms curled around herself with tears building behind her eyes, knowing that there was no situation where they walked away from this where he wasn't the asshole. "Just someone to fix," His whispered under his breath. His voice a deep murmur as he recounted back to how it was always her job to fix everything and, if she could fix him, then maybe she could fix how she was feeling too...

"Don't be." His words weren't harsh. Quite the contrary as he adverted his gaze from hers. "You didn't do i-" He started to say only for his entire body to tense up as she pulled her into a hug. He let out a sharp breath as she hugged him. The last thing he wanted when recounting the worst few months of his life was to be touched, but he knew better than to pull away from her and have her think it had anything to do with her and not his own PTSD. So, he bared with it until she dropped her hands to her sides. It was only when she moved to place her hand on his cheek, that he found himself involuntarily flinching away from her touch.

He didn't say anything when she told him that she still wanted him. He had already told her that he wasn't the same person who had left. He had tried to open up more with her than pretty much anybody, but every time he tried, he felt like she didn't quite hear it. Like she was trying to place a bandaid over a bullet hole. So, he didn't what else to even say or do.

"That's not what I-" He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a deep shaky breath. His fingers curled into fists as he dug his short nails deep into his skin. The sharp tinge of pain steadying him as he told her slowly, "Noted." One word and one she likely wouldn't take too well, but he couldn't bring himself to get into the nuances of what she was saying right now. He could tell her a million times over that shutting up and pushing it down wasn't the solution here. He could try to explain again that if she simply entered into the situation with less expectations, than maybe they'd be having an entirely different conversation right now. But, he also knew that wasn't who she was. She needed someone to reassure her and who needed her to help them through whatever it was they were going through. She needed to feel like she was helping and was fixing things. She had practically told him as much.  If I can fix this I can fix how I’m feeling. While, he needed to be given the space to figure it out on his own.

"Yeah... You to me too. We're still friends, Dilan. Don't worry. Now, if you excuse me," He promised her as he turned to go. Only before he did, he casted one more glance over his shoulder as he told her, "Though, uh, Happy New Year and sorry if I fucked the night up for you," before vanishing into the crowd.

End?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Because it happened!” Dilan countered. “You want to know how I felt about it? Disappointed. Like I’m still not measuring up to whatever invisible line there is for you to want to kiss me back. Of course I remembered it. It was my birthday!” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world that she would remember it. “It wouldn’t have put me on spot or embarrassed me. Song I wanted to talk about it, but god do you know how embarrassing it is for me to bring it up to you? I mean try and understand things from my perspective here.” 

At his words Dilan bit down on the inside of her cheek and looked down at her shoes, doing the best she could to will the tears that wanted to fall away. Looking back up at him when he sighed and she shifted uncomfortably as she fidgeted to try and make herself small. Staying silent as he continued to talk and she broke fully when he said she wasn’t a chore. Letting a couple tears falls and she for once didn’t attempt to wipe them away. “I never said you were.” Letting the words come out broken as she tried to talk but tears were already falling too fast and she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t want you to be some scripted puppet, that’s part of what I like so much about you.” She admitted quietly to him.

Dilan looked up at him through blurry eyes and went to reach out for him when he mentioned being kidnapped for eight months, but when he took a step back from her she let her hand drop. Wiping her eyes as she inhaled a sharp breath, she listened to him talk about being kidnapped. “I’m sorry.” She was sorry for even starting this conversation, but more so for him being kidnapped. Reaching over to him and she took a couple hesitant steps towards him before she pulled him into a hug. “Song.. I” Trying to find the words to say but she couldn’t. “I’m just sorry that happened to you and that you spent eight months like that.” Letting her voice break again, she knew better than this but she couldn’t help it. Pulling back slightly as she put a hand on his cheek and gave a nod to his words. While it hurt to hear it somehow was comforting that it wasn’t a hurt issues it was more an everyone issue. Moving back as she let her hand drop from his face to her side, she didn’t know where to go with any of this. 

“But the problem is as low enthusiasm as you are literally all the time, I still want you.” She admitted softly. “Do I really? I mean I’m not a good person Song, I’ve never claimed to be either.” She countered softly at his words. When all she wanted to do was reassure him that he was enough. That while more enthusiasm would be nice it, wasn’t about any of that. It was just the simple fact it was him, as she recalled the conversation with Ken earlier about why she liked him the urge to recite all of that once more came up. She wanted him to know he was deserved the world too. “You deserve good things too Song. Despite what you may think.” 

Feeling the tears well up once more when he continued on and finally said it back but it was everything that came after that broke her once more. She knew he was right, that this wasn’t full stop, that she wanted exactly what he said. “I want more. More than you can give.” She admitted softly, she put a hand under his chin to force him to look up at her. “Song, I’m so sorry I did this too you. I should have considered you in this and I didn’t. I got in my head and my feelings about all of this when in reality I should have just shut up and pushed it down.” That’s what she had done with Chai and what she had planned on doing this time too, but everyone had just been so encouraging. “You’re right you’re not the same person anymore, but it doesn’t change that I like this person in front of me and wish I knew them better than I do.” Holding out a hand for him to take in case he wanted it. “No matter what though I’m here for you. Rather you want me to be or not. Because as much as this hurts, I’m not walking away. I’m just sorry that I’ve now made this so awkward between us.” Shifting uncomfortably, she made a move to try and wipe her eyes despite knowing her makeup was ruined. “You’re too important to not be in my life. I need you, even just as my best friend. Well besides Leyla and that, but you get what I mean.”