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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 months

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(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader 7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens twisters #x reader

2K notes · View notes

emisloves · 27 days

Text

BEYOND THE CLASSROOM ✦ P.SH

PAIRING. professor!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE. mdni, professor x student dynamics, college setting

WARNINGS. smut, unprotected sex (a big no), nicknames (slut, darling, princess, etc.), oral (both m! and f! rec.), backshots, mating press, riding, creampie, squirting, cum eating, spit play, snowballing, size kink, face fucking, groping, making out, clit biting, pussy slapping, clit pinching, oversensitivity, slight blue balls, slight boob kink (?), slight oral fixation, bulge kink, orgasm denial, manhandling, hoon is kind of manipulative, reader isn't naive; just a huge slut for hoon

WORD COUNT. 8k

A/N. this is specifically dedicated to @destinyhoon (a very late bday present?) don't read this unless you're haze or else I will come for your kneecaps /j also only the first 2k is plot, the rest is just pure, filthy smut.

You sighed. This was boring. The lecture was boring. The professor was boring. Everything was so fucking mundane and boring.

You unwrapped a lollipop, putting it in your mouth, swirling your tongue around its tip. You sucked your saliva off it, the sweet strawberry flavor invading your tastebuds, making you let out a contented hum.

You stared at your professor. He wasn’t very special, neither by looks, nor his teaching methods. Yet somehow, for some unknown reason, you felt drawn to him. There was something about him– something that you couldn’t pinpoint– that was special about him. Whenever you made eye contact with him, either of the following things happen:

You become breathless, your brain turned into mush, your senses dulled and heightened at the same time. Every inch of your being yearned for him, him and him. He left you completely intoxicated with just one fleeting glance.

Or, you would feel like you were slowly losing your mind.

You would want nothing more than him to bend you over on that desk of his, fucking you full of his cum, till it was flowing out of you like a waterfall. You needed him to stuff you full with his cock, whether it was your mouth, your pussy or even your ass– you wanted him. Needed him.

Some would say you were obsessed with him. Others would say you’re just down bad.

You didn’t know which one was more correct, nor did you care enough to find out. All you did know was that you wanted to have him. You had to have him.

It was the last lecture of the day, which also happened to be Professor Park’s lecture, your favourite professor. Unfortunately, your mood was usually never good around the end of the day, causing you to be excessively snappy. You couldn’t help it, wanting nothing more than to go back to your dorm and sleep for the rest of the day.

You unwrapped another lollipop, sucking on it. You happened to sit on the first row this time, wanting to be able to stare at your favorite professor without any difficulties or interruptions.

Sunghoon on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to rip that lollipop out of your hands.

He hated you.

Hated the way you sucked on that damned lollipop all the time. Hated the way you were the only person who never missed a single lecture of his. Hated the way you always wore the most provocative of clothes. Hated the way every guy always stares at your pretty legs that were always on display. Hated how his own eyes never seemed to stray away from your exposed cleavage. Hated the way he felt jealous whenever a guy asked you out.

Why were they asking you out? They could have any girl they want, so why you?

Why did he feel jealous whenever you looked at a guy other than him? Why did his blood always boil when you smiled at another guy? Why did the jealousy surge through his veins so excruciatingly, a burning rage simmering in his head?

Why?

Most of all, why did he care so much about you? You were just another student after all.

But he knew why. You weren't just another student. You were an extremely annoying one.

You see, you were quite– distracting to him. At the beginning, he thought the sound of you sucking on a lollipop during his lectures was immensely annoying.

Now?

Now he thinks you’re even more distracting than before. The way you sucked on your lollipop? He was curious about what else you could do with that pretty little mouth of yours.

“Miss L/n, please follow me to my office.”

You froze in the middle of your path. Did you hear that right? Did Professor Park really just ask you to follow him to his office? Just as you were about to leave the lecture hall?

You slowly turned around, making eye contact with him, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together. His gaze was making your stomach do flips, and you probably wouldn't be able to control yourself for much longer if he kept staring at you like that–

His gaze traveled downwards, resting on your cleavage and exposed legs for a moment too long, before he cleared his throat. Without another word, he turned around, walking towards the side of the hall, to the door.

You made haste, quickly going down the stairs and following him, trying to keep up with his fast strides. It almost seemed like he was in a hurry, making no effort to slow down for you to catch up. You tried your best to follow him as fast as you could– or rather as fast as your heels would allow you to.

He went past the shared staff room, walking towards his own private office. He quickly opened the door, going inside, not bothering to close it since you were coming behind him. He went to his desk, going around it, sitting down on his chair. “Please close the door once you're inside.”

You stepped inside, closing the door as per his request. Before you could step towards him, he spoke again, his words catching you off-guard.

“Lock the door and take a seat.”

You opened your mouth to speak, before closing it again, his request having rendered you speechless. Since when did a talk with your professor have to be behind closed doors?

Nevertheless, you followed his instructions, closing the door behind you, before going towards his desk, taking a seat in front of him. Your professor didn’t look at you, too busy rummaging for something in his desk drawer. He seemed to have finally found what he was looking for, pulling out a sheet of paper and placing it in front of you. He leaned back on his desk, locking eyes with you, staring straight into your eyes. “Do you know what this is, Miss L/n?”

You gulped, feeling heat creep up on your neck from embarrassment. “Yes.”

Your professor cocked a brow at you. “‘Yes’ what?”

You looked down, avoiding eye contact, speaking in a smaller voice. “Yes sir.”

His eyes followed your gaze, before traveling downwards, shamelessly burning holes into your cleavage. It’s your fault for wearing such revealing clothes after all. Isn’t this why you always wore these types of clothes? So that he could stare as much as he wants?

“Look at me when I’m speaking with you.”

His tone made your stomach flip. Since when did his voice sound so– hot? Why was it making you feel hot?

You slowly raised your head, looking straight at him once again, making him resist the urge to smirk. You looked so fucking cute and innocent like this– but he knew better than that.

You were no innocent little lamb that could be preyed upon easily.

But even the most vicious of predators can be preyed on if the cards are played correctly.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “What is this sheet Miss L/n?”

You were definitely ovulating. Why else would every single action of his turn you on this much?

You bit down on your bottom lip, discreetly trying to shift on the chair, rubbing your naked thighs together. “It– It’s a record of my performance for this entire year, sir.”

“Mhm. And what exactly does it suggest?”

You gulped. His condescending tone sending tingles of need straight to your core, leaving your pussy throbbing and aching, needing attention immediately. You once again shifted on your chair, subtly trying to rub your thighs together again. “I– It suggests that– that I haven’t been doing well?”

He had, of course, immediately caught onto how you were rubbing your thighs together both times you did it. Your professor leaned forward on the desk, his eyes not once breaking the intense eye-contact that you both held. “And what would that suggest?”

You bit down on your lip again, harder this time, trying your best to stifle a moan. It was crazy how much he was turning you on with simply his voice. It was getting increasingly difficult for you to speak. “It– It would suggest that– that– that I need to do– better?”

He clicked his tongue, his brows creasing in slight annoyance. “You are aware that your finals are in less than a month, yes? Even if you– by some miracle– score extremely well in it, your previous grades– which are absolutely pathetic, may I add– would not allow you to move onto your third year. You will most definitely have to repeat your second year, which would definitely not look good on your resume.”

Your eyes widened, your hornyness having been momentarily forgotten. You knew your academic condition was bad, but you had no idea it was this bad. “I– Is there any way to– to fix that?”

Sunghoon had to hide a smirk at your words. Finally, finally you were falling right into his trap. He leaned back on his chair, not breaking his eye contact with you, or letting his face betray his true thoughts. “There might be a way.”

You sat up straighter, staring at him with a hopeful glint in your eyes. “What is it, sir? I promise to do anything to get grades up.”

His eyes flickered down to your cleavage, the movement of his eyes so fast you almost thought you imagined it. “Don’t be so rash in promising things, Miss L/n. ‘Anything’ is a lot to promise. It can be– taken advantage of quite easily.”

“But I mean it sir. I would do anything to fix my grades.”

He almost broke character right then and there. God, you may not be innocent, but you were so fucking naive. So easy to manipulate. “I could increase your previous grades.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You would do that?”

He leaned in front again, staring straight into your eyes. “I would.”

You almost let out a delighted squeal, managing to suppress it just in time. “Thank you sir– that would be very helpful– and extremely appreciated.”

His lips held the ghost of a smirk. “Now now, don’t get ahead of yourself. Everything has a price.”

Your excitement dimmed a little, your mental dance coming to a halt. Of course there was a catch. There always was. His offer seemed a little too good to be true anyway. “Of course sir. Anything.”

He let out a small hum. “Anything you say…? You realize that is a very risky thing to promise?”

You bit down on your lip. Truth to be told, you were well aware of what you were offering to the plate by promising ‘anything’. And you don’t regret it one bit.

In fact, you hope that he takes advantage of your promise. Judging by the tone of his voice, he planned to do just that.

He finally allowed a full on smirk to break through his lips, tilting his head slightly to the side. He shamelessly let his gaze travel to your cleavage, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was looking at it, letting you know exactly what he planned to get as payment for increasing your grades. “Then you know what to do, don’t you? Or are you so dumb that you can’t even understand what you’re supposed to do now?”

Fuck, your panties were drenched from how much slick was oozing out of you, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds. You shifted on the chair slightly, rubbing your naked thighs together. You stuttered out a response. “I– I don’t– don’t know what to do now–”

He let out an amused scoff, rolling his eyes, leaning back on his chair. “For starters, you could get up from that chair instead of continuously rubbing your cute little thighs all the time, and come around the desk, in front of me.”

Heat crept up on your neck and face, causing you to feel even hotter, the overwhelming heat doing nothing to suppress the desire to be filled up in you, your pussy throbbing desperately, causing more slick to ooze out of you, seeping into your already soaked panties. You slowly got up, going around the desk, standing to his side.

Your professor turned his chair, so that you were right in front of him. “On your knees, darling.”

The sudden nickname surprised you, doing nothing to deter the slick from oozing out of you, only increasing its amount. You slowly sank down to your knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact with him for the entire time.

Your professor looked at you with a tantalizing smirk. “Take my pants off. Slowly.”

Your hands trembled slightly as they reached up, gripping his waistband. You popped open the button on it, pulling down the zipper. You slowly pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, him lifting his hips up slightly to help you out.

As soon as his pants were off, his cock sprang out, big and veiny, slapping on his stomach, smearing some precum on his shirt. His mushroom tip was an angry red, leaking a generous amount of precum. You held it in both of your hands, your tiny hands barely wrapping around his huge girth. You slowly stroked his length, putting pressure on the underside of his cock, where a large vein ran by. He threw his head back, his eyes rolling into his head, a loud groan leaving his mouth.

Encouraged by his reaction, you sped up the movement of your hands, using his precum as lube, spreading it all over his cock. He bit down on his bottom lip to stifle any further sounds, before letting out a low growl. “Stop.”

You froze, stopping immediately, letting go of his cock. His chest heaved slightly as he tried to catch his breath, his hooded eyes staring straight at you. His gaze and the way his chest heaved up and down with his mouth slightly parted caused even more slick to seep out of you, drenching your thighs.

He leaned forward, before grabbing his cock in one hand, fisting your hair in the other. He gripped your hair firmly, yanking on it slightly. He brought his cock in front of your mouth, tapping it on your lips. He smeared the precum on it, reveling in the cute little moan that slipped past your mouth at his actions. Your lips looked glossy from his precum, making him want to kiss your cute little pout. He slapped your cheek with his cock, the precum smearing across your cheek, making you look even hotter than before. “Look at me.”

You lifted your gaze towards him, and he swore he almost came right then and there. Your eyes were hooded, your precum smeared cheeks and lips making you look like a goddess. God, he could stare at you forever and never get tired, you looked that gorgeous.

He quickly took his phone out, snapping a picture of your pretty little face, before pocketing it again. He tapped his cock on your slightly parted lips. “Open.”

Like an obedient little slut, you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his cock inside, groaning at how warm and wet your mouth was. Your mouth felt almost as good as a pussy, increasing his need to fuck your mouth like one. But he needed to feel you suck him off. He knew you would be good at it. All those lollipops you sucked in class definitely insinuated that you knew how to suck cock– properly at that. “Get to work, princess. Don’t keep me waiting.”

You traced the underside of his cock with your tongue, drawing out a groan from him. He pulled your hair slightly in warning, silently warning you to not tease him. You obeyed, hollowing out your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down, sucking him off– just like a lollipop.

His reaction was instant. His body lurched forward with a loud groan, fisting your hair tightly, his hips bucking up into your mouth, almost unconsciously. Your hands quickly found purchase on his thighs, your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs, your throat gagging around his length. There was a visible bulge on your throat from his cock, one that had not come to his attention yet.

With a new found determination to please him, you sucked him off harder, furiously bobbing your head up and down on him, relaxing your jaw and forcing yourself to take him even deeper.

He hissed through his teeth, his hand pushing your head down on him, trying to make you take him completely. “Fuck, princess c’mon– I know you can take more, fuck–”

You were finding it difficult to breathe, feeling light headed. With your nails digging almost painfully into his thighs, you forced yourself to take him even deeper, choked sounds emerging from your throat, the sounds bringing him closer and closer to ecstasy. He bucked his hips into your mouth, no longer holding back from fucking your face. He thrusted into your mouth at a fast pace, determined to empty his load inside your wet cavern.

You no longer tried to suck him off by yourself anymore, letting him use you as he pleased. You focused on breathing through your nose, his thick girth stretching out your mouth and throat impossibly wide. In your light headed haze, you wondered if this was really happening, was your favorite professor really face fucking you?

You had no time to wonder, not when your professor suddenly grabbed your throat, squeezing it tightly, right where it was bulging. You choked at the unexpected pressure, your throat tightening around his cock, triggering his orgasm.

With a loud, guttural groan, he spilled his load inside your mouth, hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat, causing you to gag. He quickly closed your mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare spit anything out, or swallow it–”

You tried your best to do as he said, trying to stop your choking. As soon as he sensed that you weren’t gagging anymore, he smashed his lips on yours.

The kiss was messy, extremely fucking messy. His lips moved against yours sloppily, spit and drool falling past both of your lips, dripping down your chins. He shoved his tongue inside your mouth, swirling around your own, tasting his own cum, moaning at the taste. He tilted his head deeper, trying to shove his tongue inside impossibly deeper, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping past your mouths.

It was only when he physically couldn’t breathe anymore did he part from your lips, resting his forehead on yours, breathing heavily. Both of your chests were heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath, remnants of his cum in both of your mouths.

He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, before pressing down on it. Your eyes locked with his, as he pressed down harder, his middle finger pressing down on the hinge of your jaw, forcing your mouth to open. He pushed his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue, watching the saliva gather on it as your body’s reaction. Your saliva dripped past his thumb, down onto your chin, but he still didn’t stop pressing his thumb down on your tongue.

He leaned forward, licking down the spit from your chin, before lifting his head, locking eyes with you. He took his thumb out of your mouth, before speaking. “Open.”

Like an obedient little pup, you opened your mouth, your tongue lolling out. He smirked at the sight of your blown out pupils, the expression on your face nothing short of desperate. He gathered a wad of spit in his mouth, using his tongue, before spitting it on your own. “Swallow.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing like an obedient whore, a tiny moan slipping past your lips at the taste. He bit his lip at the sound, before speaking again. “Up.”

On shaky legs, you stood up, waiting for his next instruction. “Sit on the desk.”

You went to the desk, having to jump up slightly to get on top of it. As soon as you sat on it, he got up from the chair, coming in front of you. He grabbed your jaw tightly in one hand, before smashing his lips on yours. His tongue immediately prodded at your entrance, eager to explore your wet cavern once again.

You parted your lips, your hands holding onto the edge of the desk for support. His hand pushed your thighs apart, standing in between them, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, practically devouring your lips. You let a moan slip out, which he gladly swallowed, his hand sliding on your waist, pressing you to his chest. Both of your tongues desperately engaged in a fierce battle of domination, a battle that he easily won. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, your nails practically digging into his skin, as you deepened the kiss, a small glob of spit drooling past your lips.

Both of his hands came to rest on your exposed waist, his thumbs kneading the naked skin there. They slid up, under your top, exploring your body. His actions caused even more moans to slip past your lips, sounds which he gladly swallowed. He finally broke the kiss, hurriedly sliding your top off, you raising your hands to help him out, before resuming the kiss. By now, there was spit and drool all over your chins, the kiss being extremely messy. But neither of you seemed to care.

Without breaking the kiss, his hands moved behind your back, fiddling with the hook of your bra, before deftly unhooking it. As soon as your bra was off, his hands grabbed both of your boobs, fondling them. You let out a small moan, your hands fisting the bottom of his shirt tightly.

His thumbs swirled around your nipples, which hardened under his touch, before twisting and pinching them, eliciting a whimper out of you. He broke the kiss again, only to lower his head to your hardened nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, your broken moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears.

He sucked on it, his other hand groping and playing with your other boob. He lightly grazed your nipple with his teeth, a high pitched whimper leaving you. He pinched your other nipple, before finally letting go of both your tits, his mouth leaving it with a wet popping sound, which echoed throughout the office.

Your hands moved upwards, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, trying to pop them open, failing miserably in your haste. He chuckled at your desperation, before helping you out, taking off his shirt. Your eyes raked over his entire naked glory, before your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him back into a kiss.

He gladly reciprocated it, his hands moving to your jeans shorts, expertly popping open the button. He quickly slid down the zipper, before sliding your shorts off, with you lifting your legs slightly to help him. He broke the kiss, his hand cupping your pussy through the thin material of your drenched panties. “So wet for me already? Pathetic.”

You let out a whine, your hips bucking into his hand, trying to gain pressure on it. He smirked, before grabbing your jaw with one hand, pushing you down on the desk, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. He dropped down to his knees in front of the desk, between your legs, before grabbing your thighs. He pulled you so that your covered core was right in front of his face, before bringing his face down to inhale your scent.

He groaned against your heat, the sound reverberating through your core, causing a shiver to run through you. Without warning, he suddenly nuzzled his face into your drenched panties, which were already sticking to your folds, almost uncomfortably so. He let out a moan, the scent of your arousal taking over his brain, causing blood to start rushing to his cock again. He pressed his nose almost impossibly deep into your drenched panties, dragging it upwards with a groan, causing choked gasps and whimpers to escape you. Your chest was heaving up and down, trying to get used to the immense pleasure that you were receiving. His nose occasionally bumped on your clit, causing you to let out mewls, which sounded like music to his ears.

He suddenly stuck his tongue out, desperate to taste you, shoving it through your panties. Your entire body jolted from the sensation, a loud ‘fuck!’ leaving your mouth. He started lapping at your cunt through your panties, small hums and moans leaving him, every time he tasted your sweet slick. The sensation of his tongue on you through your panties was starting to overwhelm you, causing you to try and close your legs, small whimpers leaving you.

He was obviously having none of that, causing him to use both hands to push your thighs apart again, his tongue desperately lapping up your slick stained panties. After a while, he started becoming impatient, his need to taste you completely being the only thought in his lust filled brain. He detached his lips from your bottom ones momentarily, bringing one hand to your soaked panties, before ripping it off.

You let out a shocked gasp as the sound of ripping cotton filled the room, the cold air of the room hitting your now bare pussy, causing you to clench around nothing. His eyes darkened at the sight, as he immediately latched his lips on your bare pussy again. He let out a groan, slurping up your slick like a starved man, his fingers bruising your thighs from how tightly he was gripping them.

His nose bumped against your clit, causing a shiver to run through your entire body, a moan slipping out of you. He immediately switched his attention to your clit, swirling his tongue around it, before sucking on it. Your reaction was immediate, a choked gasp leaving you, your back arching, pushing your pussy right into his face– not that he minded.

Your hand reached down to grab his hair, tangling in it. He let out a groan, his lips momentarily detaching from your clit, pushing his head towards your hand slightly, indicating you to pull on his hair. Understanding his signal, you pulled on his hair, causing him to let out a moan, before he dived back into your pussy. He nipped at your clit slightly, feeling a jolt go through you, your grip on his hair tightening. Your reaction caused him to bite your clit harder, causing you to almost scream. “Fuck!– sir please– please, fuck–”

He sucked on your clit again, not really sorry for his previous actions, but still trying to soothe your pain. He gave your clit one last lick, before moving back to your slit, his tongue moving in an ‘up down’ motion, collecting your slick. Once he was satisfied, he detached his lips from your slit, gathering a wad of saliva mixed with your slick in his mouth. He then spit the mixture on your slit, causing you to jolt, a choked gasp leaving you, along with a string of curses. He used his tongue to spread the mixture over your slit, his tongue jutting further inside your pussy, dragging across your gummy walls. You cried out, your hips bucking against his face. He held your hips down with both hands, eating you out like a starved man who hadn’t had a meal in a very, long time.

He once again switched his attention to your clit, sucking on it, one hand coming down to caress your slit, before landing a harsh slap on it. You jolted, crying out in pain, the sound of the slap echoing through the room. He caressed your pussy again to soothe the pain, having never once stopped sucking your clit. His middle and ring finger ran up and down your slit, collecting your slick, before sliding inside your hole without a warning. Before you could even gasp, his fingers picked up a fast pace inside you, dragging across your walls, hitting all the right spots.

His fingers were long and slender, allowing him to reach deep, in no time hitting the spongy part of your insides, causing a shiver to run through you. He smirked lightly, sucking even harder on your clit, eliciting a tiny whimper from you. He increased the pace of his fingers, curling them up every time to hit your spot, your gasps and moans echoing throughout the room.

Your slick was starting to drip down his hand, onto the floor, the more he thrusted his fingers into you. He didn’t seem to care about it in the slightest, thrusting his fingers inside you at an even faster pace. Squelching sounds emerged from where his fingers thrusted into you relentlessly, causing your body to flush even more from embarrassment, your whimpers becoming more high pitched. He did not relent, continuing his actions.

He sucked on your clit harder, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and flattening his tongue over it. Your whimpers reached a fever pitch, your grip on his hair tightening. He groaned against your pussy, a sound that reverberated throughout your core, causing you to clench around his fingers. He thrust his fingers even deeper inside her, curling them up to jab them into her g-spot, before rubbing against it. His actions elicited loud screams of pain mixed with pleasure from you, your hand pulling on his hair desperately.

He only increased his pace, his fingers rubbing at your spot at an almost animalistic pace. He nipped at your clit every once in a while, before continuing to suck on it harshly. His dizzying actions and pace triggered your orgasm, causing you to clench around his fingers tightly. Your back arched, eyes rolling back into the back of your head, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you came around his fingers, drenching them in your essence.

He finally stopped abusing your now sensitive cunt with his fingers, pulling them out. He quickly shoved them inside his mouth, tasting you, humming at the taste. He once again attached his lips to your sensitive slit, sucking off all your cum, moaning into your pussy at the taste. He kept on drinking down your essence till your whimpers became louder, your hand gripping his hair tightly, trying your damn hardest to pull him away from your sensitive pussy.

He finally pulled away, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices, his lips shining, covered in a glossy sheen of your cum. He used the back of his hand to remove it, before standing up. By now his cock was rock hard again, standing proud and tall against his stomach, the tip an angry red, beads of precum forming on it.

He looked at your face, his eyes darkening even more at the sight of your fucked out expression, his mind clouding from the haze of lust. Your pupils were blown out, entire body flushed, covered in a sheen of sweat. Your mouth was parted open, chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath. His tongue jutted out, gliding over his bottom lip, coating it in his saliva. His eyes raked all over your body, drinking in the image, trying to memorize every single detail of it. His neglected cock twitched, more precum dribbling out of the tip.

His patience finally snapped, before he wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you up. He smashed his lips onto yours, with you immediately reciprocating it. His hands gripped your hips tightly, tight enough to make it bruise, tiny whimpers escaping you at the pressure. He took the chance and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, eager to explore your wet cavern. His thumbs kneaded on the flesh on your waist, trying his best to keep his urges under control. He was lost in the taste of your lips, trying desperately to stop himself from pounding into you right then and there. He was trying to give you a slight break, neglecting his own desires, to make sure you don't pass out on him.

After a while, devouring your face was simply not enough for him. His poor cock was twitching desperately, even more precum dribbling out of it. His balls were starting to turn blue, causing him physical pain. Unable to control his desires anymore, he tore his mouth off yours with a groan, before staring into your eyes, his gaze darker than ever. You stared at him with wide, desperate eyes, wanting– no, needing to be filled up. And filling you up was exactly what he was going to do.

He pulled you by your thighs, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist– his hard length pressing insistently on your slick folds, eliciting moans out of the two of you. He wrapped one hand around your waist, the other one your hips, before lifting you off the desk, carrying you towards the chair. He sat down on the chair, making you hover on top of his cock, the tip of which occasionally bumping against your clit.

You whimpered at the feeling, causing him to bite his lip to prevent his own noises from escaping. He watched your facial expressions with darkened eyes, his mind fogged up in a cloud of lust. He grabbed the base of his cock tightly, using sheer willpower to not cum right then and there– before rubbing his mushroom tip on your folds, which were already glistening from your slick. He smeared his precum all over your folds, strings of your own arousal clinging to his tip. You let out loud whimpers at the sensation, your nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break skin.

He did not relent, dragging his cock over your slit, his tip completely buried into your folds by now. Your whimpers had reached a sky high pitch by now, your eyes screwed tightly in pleasure, controlling yourself from slamming your hips on his, to bury his cock inside your throbbing pussy– not like you could, given the tight grip he had on your waist and hips– his grip tight enough to leave bruises.

He dragged his cockhead to your clit, your breath hitching at the contact. This earned a displeased squeeze on your hips from him, wanting to hear your pretty little moans. He tapped your clit with his tip, your surprised gasp echoing in the room. Pleased by the reaction that he had elicited from you, he continued to tap your clit using his tip, your choked whines and gasps making it harder and harder for him to maintain self control.

He gave a particularly harsh slap to your clit with his tip, your slick having started to drip down his length, onto his balls. You let out a loud whine, your nails digging into his shoulders, almost drawing blood. You had enough of his relentless teasing, causing you to try and move your hips to sit down on his length. He held your hips tightly, preventing you from sitting down on his cock, before pinching your clit, earning a loud gasp from you. “Desperate little slut, can't even wait for a while to get filled up. Was me eating you out not enough? Do you need to be filled up by my cock that badly?”

You let out a loud whine, squirming in his grasp. “P-Please– I can't– I need it so bad–”

He let out an almost sinister chuckle. “Is that so? You need it? You're going to have to be patient for that darling, only good girls get what they want.”

You let out a tiny whimper, tears of frustration forming in your eyes. “P-Please–”

“‘Please’ what, princess?”

“P-Please fuck me?”

“Wrong. Try again.”

“Please, sir? Please fuck me?”

He allowed a smirk to break through. “That's a good girl.”

He gripped your hips tightly in one hand, holding the base of his cock in the other, aligning it with your entrance, before slowly starting to push you down on him. You let out a loud gasp when you started to sink down on him, his mushroom tip itself stretching you out. He certainly had more girth than all the guys you had hooked up with till date, and was longer than them too. You let out a slight whimper at how much he was stretching you out already, when not even half of his length was inside you yet. You dug your nails into his shoulders from the pain, causing him to let out a small groan at the feeling, your nails breaking skin and drawing out beads of blood. “S-Sir please– too much–”

He gripped your hips tighter, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you? What happened to the desperate whore from two minutes ago?”

You tried to squirm a little, his tight grip preventing you from doing so. “P-Please sir– it hurts–”

He let out an almost amused scoff, cutting you off. “‘Hurts?’ Then I should make sure it hurts a little more, shouldn’t I? I’m sure you can take it, can’t you?”

Before you could reply, he gave your hips a tight squeeze, before forcefully pushing you down on his length, ignoring your gasps and tiny whimpers of pain. You swore he filled you up to the brim, but he somehow kept pushing you down, before finally bottoming out. He let out a slight groan, feeling your pussy clench down on him almost painfully, your walls hugging him tightly, as if trying to push him out– but he wasn’t going anywhere.

He shifted on his weight slightly, adjusting his position on the chair, the movement making you gasp, him somehow having fit another non existent inch inside you. He lifted you by your hips slightly, before slamming you back down on his length, causing you to almost lurch over, had it not been for your tight grip on his shoulders. He lightly tapped your hip, encouraging you to move on your own. Had it not been for the obnoxious amount of slick oozing out of you, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to sink down on him, much less rock your hips on his.

Cautiously, you lifted your hips slightly, before sinking back down. Your slow movements allowed both of you to feel his cock dragging across your walls with ease, the feeling igniting a fire in your stomach. It caused more slick to ooze out of you, a sticky mess of your juices forming on his abdomen. Each drag of his cock against your walls caused more slick to ooze out of you, the pain from the initial stretch starting to fade into pleasure. Instead of pained whimpers, pleasured mewls started to leave you, your hips bouncing on his length faster.

He was still gripping your hips tightly, but making no effort to help you move, too concentrated on trying not to make a sound. His eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, small grunts leaving him every time your pussy clenched down on him tightly. You whimpered, rocking your hips on his harder, your slick making loud squelching sounds, filling up the room. He opened his eyes with difficulty, immediately met with the sight of your tits bouncing right in his face, causing him to groan. He leaned forward, taking your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before sucking on it. You let out a particularly high pitched moan, encouraging him in his actions. He sucked harder, before switching his attention to your other nipple, sucking on it as well. He let go of your nipple with a ‘pop’, the sound echoing loudly in the room, amidst the sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds from where both of you were connected.

He looked down, his eyes widening slightly, his cock growing impossibly harder inside you, causing you to gasp, clenching down on him even harder. Your stomach had a bulge in it, disappearing and reappearing every time his cock slipped back inside you. He bit down on his lip, his eyes darkening at the sight. He lifted his hand from where it was on your hip, before pressing down on the bulge. You let out a loud gasp at the feeling, your eyes widening, your hips stilling for a moment, his cock buried deep inside you.

You looked down, noticing him pressing on the bulge on your stomach. Your pussy clenched around him even harder, moans and mewls spilling from your mouth, chanting his name desperately. He let go of your stomach, his hand going back to its place on your hips, allowing you to move freely again. You immediately started to move again, your hips rocking on his at an extremely fast pace. Each drag of his cock on your walls sent a jolt of pleasure through you, causing you to throw your head back, not once stopping the movement of your hips or even slowing down.

He took his hand off your hip again, this time putting it on your clit, rubbing it harshly. You let out a sharp gasp, a loud moan ripping through your throat. He kept rubbing at your clit harshly, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your vision started to get covered in dark spots, the band in your stomach tightening uncomfortably. He flicked your clit, before rubbing it at an even faster pace, thrusting his hips up into yours slightly.

Just as the band in your stomach was about to snap, he suddenly snatched his hand away from your clit, before lifting you off his length. You gasped, a loud whimper leaving you at the sudden empty feeling, your pussy clenching around nothing, the intense pleasure that had built up in your stomach now fading away. He lifted you up in his arms, taking you to the desk, before bending you over it. You gripped the edge of the desk slightly, bracing yourself. He leaned down to your ear, his hands gripping your waist tightly. “Think you deserve to cum so easily? After all the times you paid no attention in class, in spite of burning holes into me with your stares? You’re gonna have to work harder than that, doll.”

Before you could utter a word, he had already buried himself in your walls again, your pussy hugging his cock tightly. He bottomed out almost immediately, the feeling of your walls pulsing around him sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. He pulled out almost completely, leaving only his tip inside, before slamming himself back inside, burying his cock to the hilt inside your pussy. You let out a loud gasp, your back arching at the feeling. He gave you no time to adjust, almost immediately starting to pound into you at an extremely dizzying pace, his mushroom tip kissing your cervix every time, almost piercing through your womb.

He slammed his length inside you over and over again, your high pitched moans and whimpers echoing throughout the room, your slick gushing out of you in obnoxiously large amounts from where the two of you were connected. Your slick was dripping down your thighs and his abdomen, creating a huge puddle of slick on the table and under it. Neither of you seemed to notice that, too engrossed in the pleasure. He slammed his hips into yours even faster, the sweaty skins slapping together echoing loudly in his ears. His balls smacked into your clit with every thrust, further stimulating you.

You gripped the edge of the desk even harder, your nails digging into the wood. His grip on your waist tightened as he picked up his pace, one hand slipping down to your clit to further stimulate you, causing a jolt of pleasure to run through you. You trembled under him, your hands shaking. He did not relent, dragging his cock across your walls even more deliberately, making you feel every ridge and vein on his cock even more precisely.

You could feel the band in your stomach tighten, your moans and whimpers growing even more high in pitch, signaling impending release. He increased the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit even more harshly than before. Just as the coil in your stomach was starting to unravel, he pulled his pulsing cock out, covered in your juices, causing you to let out a loud whine of frustration at the loss of the orgasm.

Before you could whine about it, he turned you on your back, lifting you on top of the desk. He pushed you to make you lie down on your back, before grabbing you by the thighs, pushing them apart to stand in between them. He threw both of your legs over his shoulder, before pushing himself inside you again, your warm and wet heat welcoming him again. You whined, squirming slightly from the oversensitiveness. He held your waist tightly to stop you from squirming, before pushing his hips into yours even further. His mushroom tip slammed into your cervix, causing a loud moan to rip through your throat. He started to move again, immediately pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust. Your moans and whimpers had turned into high pitched screams of pleasure mixed with pain, your body extremely sensitive from the previous denied orgasms. He did not relent, slamming his hips into yours over and over again, the fast pace leaving you breathless.

You could feel your sanity start to slowly ebb away, leaving your mind empty, the feeling of overwhelming pleasure clouding your brain. He neatly folded your body in half, increasing his pace. His hand slipped down to your clit yet again, a high pitched scream ripping through you, feeling sensitive. He didn't seem to care, rubbing your little bundle of nerves even harsher than before.

Every slam of his hips drove his cock into your cervix, hitting the spongy part with an almost terrifying precision. The combined effort of his mushroom tip slamming into your g-spot, his fingers rubbing your hardened nub and your sensitivity caused your orgasm to approach much faster than before, the band in your stomach tightening almost painfully. Your screams increased in both volume and pitch, letting him know of your incoming orgasm. He sped up the pace of his hips, his mushroom tip slamming into your g-spot everytime.

The band in your stomach finally snapped, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, your eyes rolling back, back arching. Your vision went almost completely black, before it all faded to normal. Feeling your pussy still hurting, your daze was broken. You looked at it and realized with widened eyes that you had squirted. His entire abdomen was covered in a white, sticky spray of your essence. He hadn't once stopped moving when you were squirming. He slammed his hips into yours at an even faster pace, chasing the pleasure. It wasn't long before your oversensitive pussy clenched around him again, causing him to slam his hips into yours, burying himself to the hilt. He shot ropes of warm cum inside you, load after load. He came so much that it started to drip past his length, the sticky mixture of your releases pooling down on the floor.

He finally pulled out, both of your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chests heaving from the exertion. You tried to sit up on the desk, causing him to immediately push you down with a hand on your chest. “Not so fast princess. We have only just begun.”

perm taglist: @i2sunric @hooniebaekgu

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alice-everafter · 2 months

Text

"Stop moving around, herbivore."

The otherwise heavy silence is broken by Leona's deep timber of a voice. Rolling onto your back puts you in line of sight of his bed, where you can see the Savanna prince half covered in sheets you couldn't even afford to breathe on. He's facing away from you, barely moving. If he hadn't just spoken you'd assume he was dead or something.

"I could hear your squirming from half way across campus. Settle down or get out, you're disturbing my sleep."

"...Sorry." Your throat twinges with the faint reminder of how you got to sleep in the dorm room of Leona Kingscholar in the first place.

After being so rudely ejected from your beloved Ramshackle home on such short notice, possible sleeping arrangements were few and far between. Now, you could've taken Ace and Deuce up on their offer, but Jack was... he was Jack. And only Jack could convince you to stay in Savanaclaw. But, then Leona had to come and say no, and then you panicked cause you saw yourself and Grim on the street. And that panic plus the sleep deprivation from finals lead you to perform your own rendition of "Cotton Eye Joe" outside his bedroom out of sheer desperation.

You didn't even get to the second verse before he bodily dragged you inside with a growl that had you accepting death like an unspoken principle.

The room was once again blanketed in a thick silence. Grim, who slept by your feet, didn't even make a peep. Banging those pots around while providing you backing vocals must've taken it out of him. Poor guy. Out of anyone in this room, he's the one you'd feel the most bad for disturbing.

So, with a sigh, you accept your fate and get up from your collection of floor blankets. Your destination being one of the Savanaclaw couches.

You knew your mind, you wouldn't be sleeping for a while. There was just... too much. Azul and his contracts, Jade and Floyd and their sharp teeth, Leona and his eyes. The ones that once looked at you like you were vermin to crush through the haze of a raging sandstorm. While Ruggie batted and kicked and cried for breath. And you swore his eyes had glazed over as he fell limp and━

"Hey."

You stop, both bodily and mentally, as his voice once again breaks the silence. There's a cold sweat you didn't notice gathering on your back. You turn to find him staring at you with those same green eyes. You can't tell if he's searching for something in you or debating heavily with himself. But, whatever it is, it isn't for long before he seems to come to a conclusion with a rumbling sigh.

"Come here."

What. "What."

"You heard me, come here."

To say you were conflicted would be the understatement of the century. You had just been spiraling not even 30 seconds ago and now the object of your trauma was beckoning you closer like the parent to your distressed child.

"I don't have all day, herbivore. You coming or not?"

"...It's night."

"..."

"Just get over here before I change my mind."

"Right."

He heaves another grumbling sigh as you shuffle across the room. Stood next to his bed gives you a view reminiscent of that time in the greenhouse. Him, splayed across his bed, hair cascading over his pillows. While you're stock still and more than a bit puzzled and kind of scared. Even though you're looking down on him, you don't feel like you have the advantage that you should. He looks almost too calm, too relaxed. Like he's assured of a victory yet to come.

That thought sends a chill up your spine, reminding you of the sweat that persists on your back.

"Well?" He raises a brow expectantly.

You blink, "well, what?"

"Are you laying down or what?"

"...Am I laying down or what?"

"Need me to spell it out for you? Or should I help you into bed?"

"Not necessary."

You don't know what possesses you━whether it's self preservation or annoyance or curiosity or just straight madness━but you get in. You pull back those luxurious sheets and slide beneath them where you're immediately accosted by warmth. Heat seems to be radiating from him like a fire.

The revelation is... not an unpleasant one.

You realize he's still staring at you. But, not intently, not like he's trying to pry a secret from you. Leona never looks at anyone like he means to take their person apart. He simply observes and acknowledges, anyone and anything.

"Think you can finally go to bed and stop flopping around like a dead fish?"

"...Haven't I dealt with enough fish today? And now you bring them up in Savanaclaw of all places. Is no where safe?"

You're surprised when his brows pinch in amusement and a short but gruff chuckle leaves his lips.

"My bad then, for touching on such a tender topic."

"Yeah, your bad indeed."

No one says anything else afterward and he seems to take that as an invitation to turn onto his back. Letting out a deep breath through his nose while nestling an arm behind his head, eyes sliding shut.

Somewhere between you climbing into his bed and him settling down to sleep, the sweat has cooled off your skin. Not to mention the sudden heaviness dragging at your eyelids. Seems that you would be able to sleep some after all.

You turn away and towards the open balcony, towards the spot where you had once laid and Grim continues to snooze. The moon lights up the room, and though it's not the sun, it still feels just as warm somehow.

Speaking of warm, there's a heater pressed to your back. Scratch that, Leona is pressed to your back. And that's his arm, sliding over your hip and resting draped over your side.

It feels like the world hiccups when you feel his next breath puff against your hair. But, surprisingly enough, you're not shaking in your metaphorical boots. Just... very confused, once again.

"...Is this supposed to be punishment for 'Cotton Eye Joe?'"

He says nothing at first, and you begin to fear for your safety before he eventually does.

"Whatever helps put you to bed faster."

That arm over your side moves before you feel his hand settle atop your collarbone. Those same hands that had once brought ruin and pain were now just a small brush away from your neck.

This should terrify you, but it doesn't. Because he's gentle in this moment. His arm isn't an insistent press, it's a steady weight. His hand isn't a branding clasp, it's a soft touch.

There are words left unsaid between you two that his body seems to carry instead. And you drift off with the feeling of his tail draping over your ankles beneath the sheets.

#i guess i have somehow made this into a series #is it possible to get high off positive response? cause that's how i churned out another fic so soon #i listened to haunted by beyonce while writing this fyi #anyway good eats everyone #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #alice writes twst

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preqwells · 3 months

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cw: implied smut, fluff

roommate simon who had just saved your sorry ass yet again from another failed date. he didn't know where you found these men, honestly. "your poor taste get to you again? or just desperation?" he'd ask mockingly which made you want to choke him then and there. you'd only grunt in frustration which proved him right-- probably both. he'd tease you more if it wasn't for what you had worn tonight-- it wasn't like it was a problem, it was just… distracting. you were distracting. he didn't like the way your perfume made him feel heady and borderline dizzy as he drove you two home-- couldn't stand it, honestly.

he didn't appreciate the way you'd dance around the subject of you two, either. why were you going out with these men when he was right there? were you scared because you two were roommates and friends? were you scared of messing up what you guys had? he didn't know and at this point didn't care to probe-- your lack of interest was all-telling.

at least, that's how it was in his perspective… he didn't notice how your gaze consistently lingered on him-- the way his frame hulked over yours when helping you get something off the top of the fridge, the way you'd greet him 'good morning' as he grunted back as your eyes followed him, trudging into the kitchen. he didn't even notice now how you eyed him in the passenger seat with his cologne encompassing you, almost enticing you.

but he did notice how you got out of the car as you two reached your shared apartment, there was a lingering sense of tension-- an unspoken question of why you two had let this cat-and-mouse game go on for so long. "i'm deleting these stupid fucking dating apps-- all i meet are weirdos." you declared with a huff, prompting simon to raise his brow as he finished parking his car, closing the door effortlessly as he locked it. "and whose fault is that?" he asked as a matter-of-fact as you two approached your door, your eyes narrowing as you drew yourself closer to him.

"yours."

"mine?"

"did i stutter?"

"don't gotta stutter to be wrong, love."

"fuck you."

he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he opened the door for you. he didn't take you seriously-- he had no reason to. you were like this all the time. "whatever you say." he mumbled, his voice a deep rumble as your eyes raised to meet his. little did he know you were serious.

you had proposed to watch a movie together on the couch as a way to end the night-- you were hoping maybe everything didn't need to end on a bad note, even if your date had gone to shit. he decided to indulge you, maybe against his better judgment. you got all but maybe an hour into the movie before you two started sharing glances. one, here and there-- two, just because you had finished off the last of the popcorn and it irked him-- three, because of the way your laughter at a scene in the movie had coaxed a small smirk from his lips-- four, just because of the way the flickers of light from the television were illuminating your features as you snuggled closer to him. "maybe… i should go to bed." you whispered to him, looking up at him with a slightly hazed look from your exhaustion. the warmth of your breath brushed against his cheek, the proximity intoxicating as your eyes flickered between dark molasses eyes and plush pink lips. "really?" simon asked softly, as if testing your resolve.

"really."

"tired?"

"…something like that."

simon went quiet as he caught onto the growing tension, his hand snaking around your waist to readjust your position on his lap as you helped, looking up at you as you lazily straddled him. "something like that?" he mumbled, his thumb trailing down to run along the fat of your hip. you leaned in, your lips ghosting above his as he reciprocated the change in your position, tilting his head to meet your lips in a slow kiss. your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you closer to him, your lips slightly parting to let out a small noise of surprise when he suddenly squeezed your thigh, simon failing to resist the urge to see what makes you tick. you felt his tongue probe at your lower lip, teasing you. "so-- you're gonna uninstall those apps?" he asked breathlessly in between kisses.

"we're… in the middle of making out."

"so?"

you let out a small yelp when his hand traveled to your ass to give it a small pinch, prompting you to jump. "ouch--! yes, yes! i am! god!" you groaned out in faux pain before you caught a glimmer in his eye, a satisfied hum escaping him as he began planting kisses along the side of your jaw and down the side of your neck as he lightly nipped at your skin.

"mm, good."

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod #cod x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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h4venpha · 2 months

Text

⸺ too much ( 18+ )

✦ sylus x reader smut contents: blowjob, dom/sub, size kink, gagging, choking wc: 750 notes: ugh... yk how sylus talks in that slow, calm tone. I LOVEEEE ITT like i can so clearly hear him while writing this out pls do the same. anyway the end was a little sloppy but hey this is my first time writing in months gimme a break

“is this really all you’ve got for me?”

you blink back tears and look up at him, sniffling as you pull off his cock a little. you’re breathing hard through your nose, tears and drool all over your face as sylus looks down at you with his signature bored gaze. even with his dick throbbing in between your wet lips, there’s barely any sign of pleasure on his face. he looks disappointed. and it makes you want to cry.

“poor thing.” sylus hums in a patronizing voice, exhaling as he leans down to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “do you need a break, sweetie? is that it?” you were struggling to breathe from repeatedly choking and sputtering around him. and you never did speak up about needing a breather, always so insistent on trying to prove something to him. as much as he loves the feeling of your tight, warm throat, he’s not a monster.

you sniffle and shake your head, hands wrapping around the base of his length to keep him from pulling away. “no- i can do it.” you swallow thickly, blinking away your tears and with renounced determination.

too bad you can’t see the smug look on his face. “suit yourself.” he leans back again, tilting his head and watching with a playful smile.

you give sylus’ leaking tip a small, sticky kiss and watch with half lidded eyes when it twitches. you give him a slow stroke from the base of neatly trimmed white hair to the swollen red tip before parting your lips and sliding the head back into your perfect, warm mouth. you slide your tongue across the underside, breathing deep through your nose.

“mhm.” he hums as he feels the hot drag of your tongue over the curve of his tip. you mouth your way down his thick length, drooling down his dick causing it to gather at your fist wrapped around the base. with your mouth attached to his tip, you give him another stroke, spreading the spit along his length. with a shaky breath, you ease your lips down his cock.

sylus doesn’t help other than gently cradling the back of your head, he much rather enjoys watching the way your eyes roll back into your head at the taste of his cock, the way you get so eager and excited, slurping and suckling with enthusiasm. it was all too cute.

“much better.” sylus breathes steadily, sitting up and curling his other hand under your chin, gently holding you on his length. his thumb brushes soothingly under your jaw as he speaks. “ready? tap me if you need to stop.” with the slight nod of your head, he firmly sinks your head down.

sylus bites back a groan when he feels his tip brush against the back of your throat. “breathe through your nose, kitten.” he says, his voice hoarse.

you swallow on his cock, gagging as you try to control your breathing. but just like he predicted, you’re starting to slobber, causing thick bubbles of spit and precum beginning to collect on his length. even with the slick slide of your lips on his skin, tears brim your eyes once more as you choke and sputter around his length.

even with all your effort to please him: hands stroking at the base, trying to take him as deep as possible while simultaneously trying not to gag every time you take more than half. it’s just too much. and he knows that. through the haze in your head, you hear sylus sigh deeply.

“all right, that’s enough, sweetie.” sylus chuckles softly before his dick suddenly eases out of your throat, air immediately rushing into your lungs as you cough. he tilts your head up at him as he looks over the tears and spit on your face. the embarassment and shame on your face is cute too.

“a-already?-”

“yes, already. come here.” sylus coaxes, hooking his hands under your arms and lifting you easily into his lap. even as you pout, your arms wrap around his neck as you sniffle and pant quietly.

“shh shh, calm down.” sylus soothes slowly. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself.” he brushes away your tears with his thumb, looking at you fondly even with a smirk on his face. he wasn’t teasing you, he just couldn’t help how he loved the look on your face after failing to make him cum for the third night in a row.

“let’s try again tomorrow, hm?"

#h4venpha #sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace #sylus lads #lads #sylus smut #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #lads smut #love and deepspace x reader

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lvlyghost · 10 months

Text

Tainted Heart

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: After not seeing you for a few weeks, you come back to the base acting strange.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

TW: sexual themes, smut but not too explicit. anxiety, self-doubt. worried!simon, poor baby thinks he's done something wrong💔comfort and fluff, mind the english!🐸

A/N: okay so yeah, i can't believe I finished this so fast. anyway enjoy!🥹✨🫶🏻💚gif's not mine' iloveyousimonriley!💗

Masterlist✨

You try to even your shaky breathing before opening the door of the meeting room. Taking more than usual to toughen up, the last thing you want is anyone asking if you were okay. Not even your teammates and especially not Simon. Hands trembling when you open and close them, a cold sweat that runs down your spine with the clear signs of anxiety that will soon start to bubble up if you don't get this over with soon.

Another moment passes when all you can hear is your own heart racing in your ears and the world spins for a second; pushing the door open you enter. Everyone's already there, sitting around the wooden table. Four pair of eyes find you, Soap and Gaz smile your way and John nods motioning for you to take your seat next to Ghost. But you can't bring yourself to do it. You need space. You need to be left alone to battle with your own mind. Instead you grab one of the chairs and set it far from them, sitting in the far corner.

Price's eyebrows furrow but doesn't comment on it, merely resuming what he was just telling the rest of the task force. Everyone's attention is back to the Captain except for Ghost. Ghost who's frowning so hard behind the mask at your refusal to join them. It sparks a sense of irritation and worry.

He knows he shouldn't be feeling that way. You are not even together, even if a few nights spent in each other's rooms had taken place, he considered himself something akin to a friend more than just your superior or a few hook ups here and there. Were you important to him? Absolutely yes. He needed to see your eyes, needed you to look his way so he can see through you as he usually does. Your beautiful eyes would tell him what he needed to know.

But you ignore him.

Glaring at Price without really looking. Lost in your head. You know you should be paying attention but it's all static to your ears, it's the sound of every pen writing down on a sheet. Of feet being dragged across the tile floor. Bodies shifting in their seats. Someone sipping on water.

One of the boys making a comment as your leg bounces up and down not being able to stop it. All the voices inside are muffled and you just want to get out of there so bad.

"Sergeant?" Price calls you, raising his voice and pulling yourself back from your stupor.

Eyes blinking rapidly as your attention turns to him and the room is deadly silent. Was that a hair pin dropping in the hallway?

"Yes Captain?" You ask, body numb and cold.

Price sighs.

"I asked if there's anything else you want to know about the mission? You're leaving in two weeks with Ghost."

"Oh." The answer is muttered so lowly they can barely hear your voice. You find the face of the Lieutenant for one second before looking away as if it had burned you. Simon's body goes stiff. "No."

Not convinced but not wanting to push for another answer he dismisses all of you. You're storming out of the room before he's fully done, leaving the four men taken aback by your strange demeanor.

It's not until you've reached the women's barracks that you stop. If anyone had followed you, you didn't notice too preoccupied and deep in that somber haze that's been clouding your mind since you got back from home.

Memories of everything that went wrong. And the memories of the man across the room.

A beautiful, warm feeling forms in your belly, big hands tightly hold your waist. His face hiding in the crook of your neck as your arms circle his broad shoulders holding onto him, sinking up and down on his lap. Sweet sounds of skin slapping against skin echo around the quiet night of his room. Simon mutters sweet nothings in your ear as you both chase your highs, coming undone at the same time he forces you took straight to his brown eyes and your heart flutters, overwhelmed at the way he takes in your presence and breathes the essence of you. Just you as a whole. He doesn't let you go until he's spilled everything inside you, massaging you over the soft fabric of your —his— shirt that neither bothered to take off, too enraptured to care.

"Hey, you with me?" giving a small squeeze to your hip Simon let's you touch his face and trace the scars that adorn the uneven parts of his skin. He notices the way your attention seems to drift away from where you are.

"Yeah. Was thinking about us."

His brows lift.

"What about us?" Inhaling deeply you shake your head lifting from your spot and walking on somewhat wobbly legs, Simon follows you to the bathroom wondering why you're acting so strange. "Sweetheart?"

"It's nothing, I promise." He watches as you clean yourself, he could've done it —he has every other time— but now with your sudden change he doesn't know what to think. "I have to go. My parents are waiting for me."

Clenching his jaw he decided to not pressure you on the matter. Ghost was aware that visiting your parents or talking about them struck a nerve within you.

"Want me to give you a ride?" You look at him through the mirror and shake your head in denial.

"I can take the bus."

"Love..."

"It's fine, Simon." You utter. "It's fine."

Turning around on your heels you walk past him, who stays anchored to the same spot outside the bathroom. He watches as you gather your belongings and begin to dress. Simon crosses his arms over his chest.

"Text me when you get home, please?"

A curt nod is all you give him.

You never texted him although he had tried to reach out to you in the next few days and you try not to think about everything that's happened as you strip naked and step in the shower. Warm water washing your body, forehead pressing on the cool tiles of the wall. Shoulders shaking, hands coming to your mouth trying to muffle your sobs.

The all too clear picture of your father telling you no one could ever love you. Your mother doing her best to console you when you had told her the truth.

"I- I think I love him mom." sad eyes fixated on the far wall. "And I don't know what to do."

She had taken your hand with a beautiful smile on her lips.

"Any man would be lucky to have you, darling."

Her words resounding in your ears, and your eyes glimmer with hope. Hope that maybe she's right.

But you had promised to never let it get that far. You'll lose him and that's what pains you the most.

Girl's snickering and walking in the shared showers can be heard from behind, you can't see them but the sound of their giggles fade away in an instant. Gone as soon as they came. Turning off the water pipes you wrap yourself with the white towel neatly hung on the bathroom rack and the moment you slide the curtain open you're met with brown eyes leaning against the opposite wall. He's been waiting, hearing you cry. Shooing away all the women who came with a single hard look their way. No doubt gossiping about the Lieutenant being in the women's section.

A long silence stretches between the two before he finally breaks it, pushing himself off the wall and slowly walking towards you, who holds the towel against your body in a vice-like grip.

"Haven't heard from you in days. Weeks." He starts, eyes following the droplets that travel down your body and back to your face. You've been crying. Simon hates seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it. It makes him feel powerless, worthless. What do you call a man that can't even help his girl? "You've been ignoring me. May I ask what's going on?"

He's calm, controlled despite the rage within him. You never texted him back that day, never answered his calls leaving him worried and dwelling on the whole situation.

His own insecurities sparked the worst.

"Nothing, just personal stuff Lt." clearing your throat you try to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

"Bloody hell don't call me that. I'm asking as...-"

"As what?" You bite back, eyes snapping up at him as tears collect in your eyes. Simon grits his teeth he wants to say a lot but no words come out. "You shouldn't be here. People will talk."

"I'm not leaving until you speak. What's got you like this." You shake your head. "Fucking Christ I can't fix this if you don't tell me." He hisses.

"There's nothing to fix!"

"Just bloody talk to me, I'm losing my mind was it something I said?" He's not screaming but he's panting hard. "Was it something I did?!" He demands, big terrified, desperate orbs screaming for a sign.

"I fell in love with you!" You confess, eyes widening in horror at what you just said. Fervently shaking your head and walking back, away from him. Simon's eyes widen for a fraction before he's reaching out again hands cradling your face in them with a wild, desperate look. Your vision blurred thanks to the tears.

"Say it again." He pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. Like the sound of snow falling from the sky during the winter. You freeze in your spot, chewing on your lower lip.

"I fell in love." His body relaxed, all the tension he has been bearing on his shoulders for the past days slowly fades. "And we agreed we couldn't let this happen. Never. Forgive me Simon."

"Silly girl." He breathes in, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. "You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

"What?" You mumble, one hand coming up to rest on one of his.

"You're in my mind even when you're not supposed to be."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I'm an idiot." His forehead connects with yours and you can finally breathe again. After the hellish days at home, the sense of being loved and protected by the man you love is enough to overwhelm you. "Thought I was losing you for a moment. Nearly lost my mind, love."

"No. Never." You promise, hugging him tightly against your body. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Simon I just... I just didn't know what to do."

"S'alright." He soothes you. "I've got you." Feeling like the luckiest man alive, even if he didn't deserve to be loved.

He remembers the moment when he had fallen for you, the day you smiled up at him under the starry night on the roof of the safe house, covered in blood and dirt.

He knew there would be no one else after you.

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sweetnans · 4 months

Text

love me already

Pairing: f. reader/bakugo katsuki Summary: dual POV where mc is tired of waiting for Bakugo to be truth and confess his feelings for her. tw: none. Just fluff and chaos.

"Y'know, I think I'll just tell Bakugo I like him." You were drunk, and a sort sense of boldness invaded you all of a sudden.

"Girl, don't do that." Mina put her hands on your bare thigh from your skirt ridden up. "Wait till you sober up"

You were hanging with Mina after a month of not seeing each other, being pro heroes tide up your schedule so you were out of reach most of the time, only reachable by the phone. You had a blast of a night, went clubbing, and drank while dancing like old times.

"He's playing with my mind, I swear," the words spurred out of your system, and you felt like you might start to cry in any second. "He's always sending texts and asking if I'm hurt after a fight and-"

"Hey! He doesn't do that to me!" Mina whined, putting her left hand above his heart.

"Exactly! He's this obsessive fucker who thinks he's better than everyone else, always so cocky and he had me wrapped around his fingers with the details that I know he only do to me, so obnoxious" you let a sigh trying to come down from your despertarion but something made you see red again. "And yet he never confessed! I'm tired Mina what if he's just playing with me and doesn't want anything serious just fuck with me and hop on to the next. Maybe he thinks I'm playing hard to get, and now I'm kind of a challenge to him, you know the bastard"

Now you were upset.

"Mmhm, just give him some time. He has had a crush on you since we were at UA" Mina bit his nails and poured another glass for you.

"Exactly, that's what everyone says! His mom, his dad even Midoriya who can't catch a fucking clue even if it's tingling in front of his eyes. If He thinks I'm going to wait forever for him to grow a pair of balls? He's got another thing coming. " You downed the entire glass, and Mina hurried to pour another.

...

"She haven't talked to me in an hour," Katsuki stated, folding some papers on his desk.

"Man, it's her night off duty, I heard Mina said that they were going out tonight," Kirishima made a spun in his chair. "Partying and doing girl's shit"

Bakugo hated staying in the office so late, but the papers were not going to fill themselves out. At least Kirishima was there with him, trying to calm him down, but doing a pretty bad job.

"I swear if Mina let her fall into a ditch again I'm going to-"

"For fuck sake, bro!" Kirishima rolled his eyes, almost disappearing in his skull. "It was one time! Let it go. She was fine and giggling like a mad woman when you went to her rescue"

"I just worry about her," he grunted. "I'm a hero, that's my work"

"Yeah, with civilians, but she's a real hero, y'know." Kirishima pushed. Not in the six years that he'd seen Bakugo after you, has he been able to get the real confession out of his mouth.

Bakugo checked his phone again. Nothing.

...

"I'm going to get up there and tell him that I'm done waiting for him"

You didn't know how you convinced Mina into your crazy idea, but now you were outside, in front of your apartment's lobby, waiting for a cab.

"Don't you think you need to reconsider, maybe? You're tipsy honey, what if he's not even there" Mina tried to talk to you out of it, but she knew better, you were stubborn as hell, the least she could do was following you and making sure that, this time, you didn't end up in a ditch.

"He's there, he told me," you stopped a cab lifting a finger and told the driver the direction.

The way to Katsuki's agency was a haze. You remember looking at Mina, her eyes closed, trying to rest before the chaos breaks loose.

"Do you know what you are going to say?" She mumbled with her eyes closed and grabbed your hand to reaffirm her company and her friendship.

You had no idea.

...

"This is taking ages," Kirishima complained, trying to read the papers and arrange them by dates. "Why can't we just shred them and pretend it didn't happen?"

"The TV broadcasted the fight, you dumbass"

Katsuki was tired too, but he needed to make and fill the reports before tomorrow morning.

"Did she answered you?" Kirishima asked.

It was a lame night. He was practically locked up with his best friend all alone in his office. He had a purpose, and that was making him confess his love for you.

"No," he briefly checked his phone again before returning his eyes to the files. "What if she's in a ditch?"

"She's not!" Kirishima raised his voice qhile laughing, and Katsuki only grunted in response. "So what's the deal with her? You still like her or what?"

"Who told you I liked her in the first place?" He was smug about his answer, not giving away any hint of his real feelings for you.

"C'mon, everybody knows," something dark flowed into Kirishima's mind. He felt like a child poking a mad dog with a stick. "At least in our class, I mean, I remember Todoroki showing interest in her once, and you completely beat him up in spared fight, and Mirio that time he gave her a flower from the patio, you were fuming I still remember the red shade of angry in the tips of your ears"

"Keep working"

That phrase only gave him more fuel to continue the poking the beast game.

"Man, why don't you just be truth to yourself? Like, is it that hard to accept the feelings you have for her? She's amazing, smart, beautiful, She's a beast on the field and has a great heart. What's the problem, Dynamight?

He touched a sensitive fiber using his hero name. He always bragged about being the best, bold and facing everything, and everybody who dared to get in his way, but he was acting like a real pussy with you.

"I'm scared I'm not good enough, you happy?" He was upset, and Kirishima was astonished with his confession. He expected an angry gremlin yelling at him for being so annoying, spurring out his confession between variabilities of insults, but he didn't expect his best friend, the know it all and do it all feeling like he wasn't enough.

"Not enough? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Yeah, of course you have a shitty attitude, but you care for her. You're the main example of manliness. You are always taking care of her, giving her your attention, making time for taking her out of a ditch while you were patrolling, I mean, I would've left her there" Kirishima joked to make Bakugo less worried about himself. "I'm telling you man, you are it for her, but you gotta hurry the fuck up because what you see in her, everybody could see it too"

In the quietness of his office, full of papers with his best friend, giving shitty but quiet good advice, he realized that he needed to tell you his feelings, he couldn't wait anymore time.

...

You sobered up real quick. Having the massive building in front of you in the middle of a cold and freezing night, returned every sense that you needed in your body.

"You are doubting" Mina established.

"I'm freezing," you counterattacked. "Why didn't you tell me to put some jeans on?"

The dancing and the drinking made you feel hot and raised your temperature and you knew it, so you put on a skirt before going out without thinking you would come out of the house after coming from the club.

The lights were on, in the floor where Bakugo's office was situated. If you squinted your eyes, you could even see the shapes of Kirishima's and Bakugo's bodies through the glass. Or you were just still drunk.

"He won't be there forever, and you're going to catch a cold if you keep us waiting here for something to happen," Mina urged, hugging herself to keep the cold out.

"You're right, it's now or never," you said, walking determinated into the big glass doors to make yourself in.

With Mina behind you, you pushed the doors, and the guard glanced at you. He recognized you and Mina immediately, but you two put your credentials out just for safety. He gave you a nod and you continued your way to the elevator.

"Are you nervous?" Mina asked while you pressed the elevator button.

"Like shit." You watched the countdown in red numbers above the elevator doors. The elevator was in Bakugo's floor so no one was around.

The ding in the elevator startled you a little, and the turmoil in your stomach didn't make it any better. Mina pushed you through the open doors and pressed the button to Bakugo's floor.

...

"Thank god it's done." Kirishima was spining in his chair while Katsuki looked for his stuff to bring them home with him. "Are you ready to face your true feelings?"

Kirishima didn't drop the topic after the big confession and the great advice, he kept pushing his best friend and giving him ideas on how to tell you, some of them were good and some of them were trash, but Bakugo just listened and ignored at the same time.

"Shut the fuck up" Katsuki growled lowly stuffing his belonging into his black backpack.

"Isn't it romantic? Like, after all this time, you could just walk in with a bouquet of flowers and, wait no, walking? That's lame. What about a white horse? Yeah, that's manly. " Kirishima was hopeless, and even though Bakugo showed a scowl at his words he was actually having fun.

"No horses, but maybe a bouquet will be cool," he was making peace with his own feelings. At the end of the day, what was the worst that could happen?

...

"I think I'm going to pee, shit," you pressed your bladder, and Mina laughed at you.

"You can't be serious right now, we are halfway," she said while you danced funny in front of her.

"I'm sorry I process my emotions somatically," you started to feel cloudy, and your hands started to sweat.

"Hey, relax. He's so into you, maybe he'll stand like a rock for the first three seconds but then he will be all over you confessing, don't worry, and if I'm wrong you can always have Shindo"

You made a gag.

"I hate Shindo," you told her.

"But he follow you like a puppy," Mina imitated a cute puppy joining his hands under her chin and poked out her tongue.

The elevator stopped with a big thump, and you feared in a good way. You had your adrenaline up, and there were still remains of booze in your system to give you a boost.

"It's time, big girl." Mina patted your shoulder and gave you a little push.

...

Kirishima stretched himself, and Bakugo took his backpack, grabbing the zipper of a back pocket to fetch the keys of his office to close it.

He was busy looking for the keys when Kirishima started patting him in the arm repeatedly.

"What?" He told him tired and with heavy eyes. Kirishima's eyes were the exact opposite of him. They were big and surprised, looking at the other side of the glass doors of his office.

He followed Kirishima's look and stopped in you.

At first, he thought it was a kind of a mirage, then he thought that maybe he was more tired than he realized, and then he thought that maybe it was a villain whose quirk was morphing into peoples body's.

Every thought ended at the sound of your voice.

...

You walked through the hallway, practicing a speech of what you were going to say to him. You did it over and over, stumbling words in your own mind. You were there, physically and mentally, ready to take all your feelings for him out. You couldn't chicken out.

You saw his figure in the last office at the end of the hallway, body contouring to grab something from his backpack.

Kirishima was the first to notice you, his eyes wide open at the sight of you two walking in the middle of the night like you owned the place. He gave multiple pats to Bakugo's arm, and from afar, you could notice that he was tired.

Maybe your boldness wasn't the best thing to do at that moment.

You couldn't make your way out because he turned his gaze from the backpack to you in a second. By his look, you could see the gears in his brain moving to give some sort of explanation of what was happening in front of him.

He opened the door, forgetting completely that Kirishima was in his way. The red-haired boy pushed him a little, giving him courage, not caring that his best friend kinda kicked him, stumbling against him.

You two were in the same hallway looking face to face. Your two best friends a step back making themselves a crowd in what was about to happen.

"What are -" Katsuki started disoriented, looking for proof or a mark that you were injured or hurt.

"Shut up," you told him. Katsuki was very surprised at your determined tone.

"I'm liking this already," Kirishima muttered behind Katsuki, grinning like the Chesire cat.

The silence between the four of you was something that was eating your bones. It wasn't awkward, but it was heavy. You told him to shut up, but you weren't talking either, and you knew it. All the speech that you practiced before vanishing from your mind.

"Are you-

"Are you going to love me already!?"

You spoke at the same time, but your message was clear. Mina was right, Katsuki stood like he was made of stone, rigid, stoic, not even a muscle moving from your confession.

You sounded desperate. You blamed your thoughts, your desire to go pee, that you were at least fifteen percent still drunk and that you were freezing. You wanted to get over this chapter in your life, you didn't want to fool around any longer and for that you needed to know if Katsuki was on the same page as you.

"Oh my god," Mina said, holding his face with both hands.

"Shh," Kirishima silenced her. "This is better than the ditch episode"

You could tell that the booze in your system worn off just by waiting for Katsuki's response. The tic tac in your intern clock made it impossible to bear the silence.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to stay there forever?" You hurried him, trying to hide the anxious feeling that you felt coming out of your voice.

...

Kirishima kicked Bakugo's heavy boots to take him out of his trance. It worked.

You always said to him that you were half witch, at least, always feeling before it happened. He wandered if this was one of those situations.

"I'm-

It was the first time that he felt speechless. He knew you from head to toe, and now he noticed that you were under the effects of alcohol but sounded sure about it. The way that you let it out was some kind of outburst from the time he took to process what he really felt about you. He knew he treated you differently. He liked spending time with you, and he found himself checking his phone very often, looking for a message from you. He was whipped.

He saw your bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had to do something.

...

It happened quickly.

First, you throwing your feelings at him like it was a ball of fire, then his eternal silence, and after that, your guts twisting inside of you, your throat closing, your nose pricking and your bottom lip trembling.

It was over for your fantasies with him.

Was it the worst-case scenario? Yes. Will you be able to get over it? Absolutely. Will the healing process hurt? Like hell.

You were weighing your options when the sound of heavy boots against the carpeted floor woke you up from your suffering.

He was a mere inch from you. Your body and his body were separated by a thin layer of air. You could feel the air coming out from his nose, hitting your forehead. He was tall, and you were almost the size of a elf.

"Never call me out about what I already do"

That's everything that came out of his mouth before joining his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. He wasn't gentle, but the way that he grabbed you by both sides of your face made you float in your spot.

You didn't have the time to process what he said or why he said that, forgetting what you said first, but ignoring the cheerful sounds coming from your friends mouth, you could only concentrate in his mouth moving against yours. Finally.

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