#and the most wicked thought crosses through his mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wife-of-all-dilfs · 9 months

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pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake

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summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?

warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging

note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.

word count: 16.7k

“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”

You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”

A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.

Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.

He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.

What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.

“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.

Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.

“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”

You smiled, humming in agreement.

“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”

You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.

“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.

In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”

However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”

Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.

And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.

You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”

His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.

Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.

He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.

“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.

He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.

You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.

Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.

His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.

He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.

Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.

“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.

Now he knew.

Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.

After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.

You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.

“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”

His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.

“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.

“Who said I was?”

“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.

The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.

“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”

Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.

“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”

He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.

You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.

He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”

Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.

Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”

He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.

**********

It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.

There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.

Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.

Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”

With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.

He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.

“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.

“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”

There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.

They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.

You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.

Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.

You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.

His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”

And so, you did.

Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.

All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.

An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.

“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”

They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.

You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your–”

He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”

That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.

Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.

Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?

Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.

Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”

She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.

You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.

“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”

His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.

The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.

“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.

“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.

Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.

Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.

He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”

The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.

As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.

Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.

His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.

The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…

“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.

Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.

You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.

“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.

Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.

**********

The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.

Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.

Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–

A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.

To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.

You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Something on your mind?”

He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.

More like ‘someone’, you thought.

“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”

Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.

His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”

Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.

“Bellamy,” you warned.

He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh.”

The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.

Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.

“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”

“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.

He nodded.

Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”

As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.

Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.

The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.

“Without…?” you coaxed him on.

You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.

God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.

By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.

He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”

Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.

“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.

Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.

Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.

“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.

“Um, winning?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”

You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.

“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”

He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.

You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.

Something was missing.

You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Ow!”

Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.

Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”

“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.

It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.

“Some bug.”

That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.

Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.

The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.

“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.

As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.

“Swarm.”

“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.

You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.

Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.

“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.

Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.

After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.

You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.

“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.

Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.

“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.

He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”

Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.

Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.

“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”

Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.

“Clarke, wait!”

“Get back here!”

To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?

You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.

“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.

Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.

“It’s down! Come on!”

Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.

No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.

Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.

He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.

“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.

**********

Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.

The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.

You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.

Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.

Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”

Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.

If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.

Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?

“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.

It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.

You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.

“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”

“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted

You raised your hands in faux fear.

Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.

You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.

“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”

He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.

“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”

He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.

Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.

You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”

It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.

You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.

(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)

However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.

While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.

You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.

As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.

At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.

Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?

After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.

Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.

The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.

And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.

He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.

Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.

Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.

You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.

Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.

That son of a bitch.

Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.

Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.

“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.

Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.

Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling��yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.

You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.

Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.

Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.

He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…

So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.

Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.

Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position.

Bellamy.

“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.

He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.

The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”

Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”

He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.

You moved onto your knees as he got closer.

Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.

For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.

When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.

You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”

He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”

The game. You had almost forgotten.

Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.

“Don’t think that will work, princess.”

You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.

He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.

“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.

Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”

“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”

I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.

“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”

Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.

“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”

Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”

He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”

You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”

Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.

To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.

In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.

You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.

His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.

Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.

He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.

You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.

Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.

You wiggled against him, but it was futile.

“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”

He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.

“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.

“Just touch me,” you pleaded.

A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.

Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.

Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.

His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.

He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.

All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.

And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.

Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.

It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.

Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.

He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”

His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.

“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”

He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.

Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.

His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.

“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.

Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.

Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.

It all happened so fast.

“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.

Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.

Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.

You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground

Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.

You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.

He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.

His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.

He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.

If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.

“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.

His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.

“You still lost, remember?” he added.

As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”

His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.

“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.

Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.

He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”

His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”

“A man would take these chains off me.”

“You think taunting me will get me to break?”

Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.

Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.

You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.

And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.

You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.

Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.

His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.

He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.

Come on. Come on, you thought.

“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”

That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.

Weak point four—check.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.

And five. Check yes Juliet.

Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.

Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.

Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.

He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.

You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.

His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.

Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.

He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.

Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.

You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.

A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.

He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…

No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.

His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.

He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.

Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.

Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.

That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.

He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.

And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.

His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.

The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.

You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”

A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.

Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.

It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.

Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.

Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.

He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.

You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.

And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.

Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.

A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.

The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.

His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.

Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.

He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.

“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”

You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.

Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”

His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.

Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.

Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.

“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.

He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.

Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.

You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.

In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”

He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.

Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.

Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.

“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.

His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”

“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”

He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.

His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”

You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.

It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.

“Lean back,” he said, and you did.

Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.

“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.

You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.

He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.

He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.

Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.

His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.

The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.

You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.

His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.

Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.

His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.

You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.

“Bell, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”

Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.

He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.

The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.

Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.

His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.

Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.

You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.

Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.

The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.

You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”

“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–

“Oh, come on!”

You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.

Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”

“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”

His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.

“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”

“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.

“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”

You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”

Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.

It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake drabble #bellamy x clarke #bellarke #bob morley #bob morley smut #the100edit #clarke griffin #john murphy

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peonysgreenhouse · 1 month

Text

-`♡´- return.

summary: the obey me datables & luke react to mc coming back to life!

tags: obey me datables (simeon, solomon, diavolo, barbatos) x gn!reader, luke & gn!reader, hurt/comfort, implied character death, mentions of violence in solomon's parts, solomon goes a little crazy teehee

i. simeon

he sees you there, in the celestial realm. he had known your soul was pure from the very beginning, but seeing you among the angels was like a knife to his gut, a reminder of his failures to protect you.

you weren’t supposed to be here, not now, at least. it was far too early for you to die. simeon can’t help but feel bitterness well up within him as you turn from michael to look for someone in the crowd (he knew it was him. he hoped it was him).

your features light up – simeon feels his heart skip a beat. even now you were just as he last remembered you, he had always taken the time to visit you in the devildom, even after his internship was over. you more beautiful than any angel he had ever seen.

you embrace him tight, and the tighter you squeeze the more he feels like he can’t breathe, the combating feelings waging a war in his mind. he should’ve been watching over you; what kind of guardian angel was he to let his human die like this?

“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t know why his voice cracks when he says it. simeon? losing his composure? he had garnered many millennia of years of experience working to keep it up. “i’m sorry i didn’t protect you.”

“it’s okay simeon,” he feels your hands squeeze the back of his cloak. a wicked thought crosses his mind; maybe if you dug your nails in harder he would have some penance for his failures. if you cut through the bone and marrow and reached his heart then maybe his father would forgive him – maybe you would forgive him for his short-comings. “i’m here now.”

“right,” he breathes you in as if to convince himself. simeon feels the strength of his bond with you overwhelm him, he can feel how much you care for him and he feels his chest fill with warmth, chasing away his guilt, if for the moment. “you’re here forever. with me. nothing can hurt you here, i promise.”

ii. luke

luke had always told you to be mindful of demons, that they were evil creatures who would take any opportunity to kill you. it had seemed that his warning had proved true in the worst way. if only he hadn’t been a cherub; if uriel had promoted him to be your guardian angel like he had asked, maybe this could’ve been avoided.

but he was overwhelmed with how happy he was at the fact that you would be spending time with him forever in the celestial realm. he had wanted nothing more ever since you had become friends in the devildom. you were the one light for him in the exchange program.

“you’re here!” luke chirps, sprinting down the golden bricks of the road to the archangels’ house. “you’re really–!” you’re suddenly enveloped in a hug as luke wraps himself around your waist.

“hello luke!” you smile from ear to ear, ruffling up his neat hair. usually, he’d make a comment about you not treating him like a child, but for now it seems he’s too busy nuzzling into you. “it’s good to see you again.”

“yes! i’m happy to see you,” he pulls away, cheeks visibly flushed. “i’m sorry that i wasn’t there to protect you from those mean old demons but… everything will be fine now that you’re here!”

“would you like to give them a tour of the celestial realm?” michael chimes in with a smile, the younger angel’s eyes lighting up like a christmas tree.

luke nods excitedly, taking your hand in his, already tugging you out of the estate: “we have so much to do! we can’t waste any time!”

iii. solomon

solomon spirals hard.

there was a reason solomon pushed everyone away, why most people in his life were kept an arms length apart. he got too attached to things; to power, to magic, to anything that gave him that needed adrenaline rush… why would you be any different? you, the only person he has ever loved had been snatched out of his hands.

and worst of all, he had been powerless to save you.

all the magic and demon pacts and connections in the world couldn’t stop you from bleeding out in his arms. humans like you were much too fragile for his liking; he had worked tirelessly his whole life to be anything but.

if he couldn’t get what he wanted from the damned, he would have to turn his eyes to the celestial realm. if he had to tear down the heavens and bring you crashing back down to earth, he’s sure he would.

making bonds with angels was much more difficult than that of demons, but he found after nights of endless research that plucking a few of their feathers would get them to sing.

he’s covered in golden ichor when he manages to bring you back – a life for a life. he finally was able to do it, not only to bring a human back to life, but to bring you back. solomon rises, shakily, as you feel your body materialize out of the magic sigil etched into the floor. he smiles gently, looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered.

so why do you look back at him with such horror?

iv. diavolo

he had bargained with the archangels before, but never for a life.

in all accounts, a human choosing to leave the celestial realm and go to the devildom was unheard of. being cast out of heaven was notoriously the worst punishment anyone could receive.

but you do, you would always choose him over all the luxuries and beauty of the heavens every single time. it was true that love made people do stupid things.

michael sends you back to the devildom months after diavolo’s terms were set, a gift with the price of owing the ruler of the celestial realm a favor. michael was known for his kindness, but diavolo knew that there was more to him than that. he was smart enough to know that michael would never jeopardize the devildom, but angels never forgot debts owed. it was a risk, but one diavolo had no choice but to take.

above all the benevolence and good-will he draped himself in, at his core, he was a selfish demon; perhaps moreso than anyone else in the devildom.

he holds you against his chest the whole night. in the morning, he’d have duties and meetings to go to. but for now, you were his.

“little one,” he mumbles into your hair, hands tight around your waist, “make a pact with me. that you may be at my side forevermore.”

v. barbatos

in so many other timelines he sees you, shining, alive. he starts to resent the other versions of himself for being happy with you (or even worse, happy with any of the others). barbatos could pull you out as easily as he could breathe; he had a mastery over his powers that other lower demons could only imagine.

but it wouldn’t be the same, he reminds himself, it wouldn’t be his version of you.

he knew the way to get you back, it’d be to break his own rule: do not interact with the past. diavolo had given him permission to bring you back, it would be a stain on the exchange student program if one of the humans came back dead after the second semester. but he wasn’t so sure, what if the you he brought back wasn’t the you he remembered?

barbatos does it anyways, knowing he can’t refuse an order from his lord. the you in the celestial realm will be erased from existence replaced with the you of the past, the one who doesn’t know what it’s like to die. the two can only hope it doesn’t cause drama in the celestial realm.

“barbatos?” you question as you walk in the gardens with him, completely oblivious to it all. if he hadn’t been so happy that you had returned, he would feel guilty for not telling you of your death. sometimes, ignorance was bliss. “are you okay? you seem more quiet than usual.”

“do i?” he muses, forcing a soft smile for you. “i’m afraid i’m simply just a bit tired. sleep evaded me last night.” the last part wasn’t a lie.

“sorry to hear that,” you pout, “if you want to go nap, you should!

“do you not wish to spend time with me?”

“it’s not that…” you kick at the ground, arms crossed behind your back. “it’s just we have all the time in the world though, right? i want you to be rested when we’re together.”

he feels as if you’ve struck him with an arrow to his chest. barbatos sees your lifeless body in his mind, did you know and were trying to taunt him? or were you simply just this sweet?

“i suppose you’re right.” he nods his head, “but you’re coming with me.”

#simeon #solomon #diavolo #barbatos #luke #simeon x reader #barbatos x reader #solomon x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me nightbringer #imagines #hurt/comfort #angst #ficlet #x reader #repost !#q

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skzdarlings · 6 months

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vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 1/2

masterlist.

PART 1/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. handcuffs. cat-and-mouse. eventual smut will be kinky dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. (chapter word count: 7400 words.)

Seungmin is one of your best friends and also a conniving master of manipulation. Being a malevolent source of wicked verbal wizardry, he convinced you and Minho that it would be totally super easy to sneak into the Hwang Hyunjin concert. It’s only the final night of the pop-star’s sold-out world tour and the most anticipated concert of the year. What could go wrong?

It sounded like a good idea when Seungmin said it. Now the three of you are standing in a pushy crowd of overeager fans with some very intimidating looking security guards at the end of the queue.

“Reconvene,” you say. You grab the boys by their scruff and drag them out of the line.

“Ah, hey!” Minho snaps at you like piranha.

You release him to grab Seungmin by his collar. “You better have an idea for getting us past security,” you say, “because I do not like the look of the Incredible Hulk up there.”

The three of you look at the shortstack beefcake who looks like he could bench all three of you at the same time.

“Yeaaaah,” Seungmin says. He flashes you a not-so-innocent smile as his strawberry-pink bangs flop into his eyes. “I didn’t really think this far ahead. I thought you’d have a plan.”

“Why would I have a plan?” you ask. “This whole thing was your idea. Seungmin.” You drag him close so your noses touch, going cross-eyed at the proximity. It does not lessen the severity of your frustration when you state, “I waxed for this. And you know how I feel about waxing.”

“You waxed?” Minho asks loudly. It draws a few glances your way which might be because Minho is so loud, or might be because he’s so good looking, or a combination of the two. His dark eyes narrow at you like you’re a completely alien creature. “Why would you wax for a concert?” he asks.

“Wax,” Seungmin parrots. Your hands are on his collar like you intend to shake him up but it doesn’t deter him asking, “Like… like wax-wax? Like your human body waxed?”

“Like your human pussy?” Minho asks. “For a concert? What did you think was gonna happen?” He is on the very visible verge of hysterical laughter when a thought lights his eyes. “Wait,” he says. “I know how we can get in—”

“Oh my god,” you say. You shove Seungmin and grab Minho by the collar instead. “I’m not fucking our way in. And I waxed,” you drop your voice, “just in case.”

“Just in case…?” Minho tips his head. “Just in case you had to fuck your way in…?”

“Oh my god,” you say. You push him away too. “Never mind.”

“Did you think Hyunjin was going to summon you out of the crowd for a green room quickie?” Seungmin asks with a shit-eating grin.

Minho cackles. “No way she’d even go,” he says. “She doesn’t get summoned. She likes to be chased.”

“She is walking away now,” you say.

“Bet she’ll walk away quickly,” Seungmin says. “She waxed so she’ll be aerodynamic.”

You stomp away from the stadium but only make it a few steps before Seungmin runs in front of you.

“We can’t just give up here,” Seungmin says. “We made it this far already.”

“One bus stop?” you ask dryly. “We literally live like five minutes away—”

“Exactly!” Seungmin says. “That’s called destiny.”

“We might as well try,” Minho says. He cups a hand over his eyes to look at the stadium in the fading light of the sun. “We all got dressed up. Seungmin skipped a class. You waxed.”

“There’s no way we’re getting through those doors,” you say.

“We’ve done it before,” Seungmin says. He turns you to face the stadium and massages your shoulders like a boxing coach, all the while regaling you with tales of your past victories. “Remember all the other concerts we snuck into? The sports games? That celebrity wedding—”

“Well,” Minho interrupts, “we did get arrested at that one.”

“Yeah and we got arrested together,” Seungmin says, “because that’s what friends do.”

“I don’t know why,” you say, “but for some reason this is working.” Maybe it’s Seungmin’s words, or Minho’s cologne, or maybe it’s the soft glow of a perfect summer sunset as it pours over the stadium like a pink-orange waterfall. Or maybe it’s because this really is the concert of the year, and you love a challenge, and you fucking waxed.

You throw your head back and sigh, soulfully resigning yourself to your imminent fate.

“Fine,” you say. “So how are we doing this?”

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin says thoughtfully. “I think I have a plan.”

Seungmin proceeds to explain the plan. It is hardly the pinnacle of heist endeavours but is more feasible than rappelling down the stadium walls into the concert arena.

Basically, the plan is to find a group of people with a solitary ticket holder and leech onto their tail with the hopes security will miscount the party and let you sneak past. It means you will have to split up because security will definitely notice three extra people. You will then hopefully reunite inside the arena.

You scamper around the periphery of the stadium, perusing lines for oblivious groups of excited fans with an e-ticket-wielding ringleader. You also double-check which security guards seem the most lax or checked out.

“I get that one,” Minho says.

He points to a trim, athletic guard with floppy brown hair and a giggly smile. You and Seungmin protest because that guard is an easy mark so you all want him, but Minho takes off running for the queue.

The thing about Lee Minho is that he never hauls ass. He coasts through life with a casual slouch, but he is completely capable of annihilating everyone if he deigns to do so.

He does. So he did.

You and Seungmin look around. Your grin widens when you spy the next easiest target.

“Aha!” you say. “I call dibs on that one! Good luck, Seungmin!”

“Hey!” Seungmin bellows.

He is far too late. You are already booking it towards the line with a pretty, chipper, skinny security guard. He is in jeans and a loose windbreaker that says SECURITY across the back, about the only indication he is a man of any authority. His hair is a vibrant, neon blue and is delicately styled, long enough to pull back in a pretty half-ponytail. His features are sharp, cheekbones sloping, but there is a natural tenderness to his whole countenance. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.

Also, he really is lean. Worst case scenario, you can probably push your way past him and disappear into the crowd before he can do anything about it.

You find a group of girls to sidle alongside anyway. You are satisfied you will easily slip into the stadium.

The group reaches the front of the line, a couple of them giggling at the security guard’s friendly attention. His name tag reads Felix, a cute name for a cute guy. Up close, you can see a smattering of dark freckles across his face, as well as a few playful glitter stars for the concert. He is admittedly pretty but as a professional gate crasher, you refrain from distraction. You successfully avoid his gaze and stick close to the girl in front of you.

Felix gives them each a friendly nod, smiling brightly. He laughs at one of their comments and it’s a charming, low sound.

“Enjoy the show, ladies,” he says, his voice about a hundred decibels deeper than you expected.

Maybe that’s what trips you up. It has to be something, because you were doing everything right. But just as you go to follow the girls into the arena, a skinny arm shoots out and you smack right into it.

“Sorry,” Felix says. He drops his arm and smiles. “I just need to see your ticket.”

“My…?” You look ahead at the group of girls, but they are already gone. Oops. “Ha, ha,” you say, looking at Felix.

He is staring back at you, still smiling a close-lipped smile. He blinks a couple times then lifts an eyebrow.

“Uh, ticket?” he says. He holds out his hand.

“Right,” you say. You smile at him with all the saccharine sweetness you can. “I have funny story about that, Felix,” you say.

“Hm.” His smile turns into a line, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “And what’s that?”

“Well, you see…”

It’s all you say before you bolt, fast on your feet. You sprint for the entryway behind the guarded queue. There’s a crowd inside and you’re an expert at disappearing into a crowd. You just need to get in there and find your boys then you are home free. Hwang Hyunjin, here you come.

There’s just one problem.

Felix is fast.

Like, track star fast. Like, road runner fast. Like, you’re that dumb coyote getting an anvil dropped on your head, except this anvil is a skinny blue-haired Australian with a voice like a god and the apparent hidden strength of one too.

You make it a few desperate steps before Felix literally sweeps you off your feet. You shriek when he hauls you under his arm, dragging you away from the stadium door. He deposits you a few feet from the queue then swiftly resumes his position.

“Hello,” he says to the next person in line. “Sorry about that. Ticket?”

Your mouth is agape.

No one has ever got the jump on you like that.

“Hey!” you say, but Felix has moved on. He is smiling at the next guest as he checks their ticket, not paying you any mind. “Excuse me,” you say, despite the people between you and him. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I do have a ticket.”

“Uh-huh,” Felix says. He doesn’t look at you, scanning someone’s e-ticket with a little device. It lights up green and he smiles at them. “Enjoy the show,” he says.

You jump into the queue, cutting off the next person. Felix’s smile vanishes and is replaced with an astoundingly sassy expression.

“Uh, this line is for ticket-holders,” he says.

“I have a ticket,” you say. You unzip your purse and spend a minute rifling around, ignoring him when he sighs. He apologizes to the people behind you. You turn and offer a tight-lipped apology of your own. “I was in line,” you say, as if they didn’t just witness this ten-pound bully haul you around like a sack of potatoes. “There was just a misunderstanding.”

Felix rolls his eyes.

You pull out your cell phone and flip through a folder of fake screenshotted tickets, hoping at least one of them marginally resembles the tickets for tonight. You pick one and flash it at Felix.

“Happy?” you say with a lot of false indignation. You turn off the screen when Felix goes to grab your phone. You give him a snooty, squinty-eyed look, then saunter right past him.

This time when he comes after you, you are better prepared for his speed. You zig-zag and he stumbles, cussing very unprofessionally. You make it all the way to the door before he grabs you. You have no idea where he is getting all that muscle because he feels like a sturdy stick when you grab at him, but he puts you over his shoulder like it’s easy.

“Um, excuse me!” you shout. “Hello! Someone film this! I’m being assailed!”

Felix intentionally jostles you on his shoulder. He is even less gentle when he drops you this time, though you do manage to keep your footing.

“Try that again,” Felix says, “and it will be trouble. Got it?”

Felix is very good looking. He’s an incredible combination of pretty and handsome, not to mention that voice, guh. But what gets you going is how much you are clearly pissing him off. It’s hot. Out of nowhere, the freckled sunshine sweetheart is just oozing confidence, standing square and pointing at you with a very stern expression. And if you get a little hiccup in your blood, a little skip in your heartbeat, a little stampede southward that makes your pussy hum like the interested kitten it is, well. That’s not your fault. It’s his. Asshole.

You flip him off. He ignores you, shaking his head as he returns to his position.

“Sorry,” he says to the queue. “Some people are so inconsiderate, aren’t they?”

Ugh. What a sexy bitch.

You text to check in with the boys. Minho made it inside, no surprise, but apparently Seungmin is also struggling for an in.

what is with these security guards, Seungmin writes, are they military trained? fuck

maybe you’re both just losing your touch, Minho replies.

never, you say. we still have lots of time. we'll get in there. seungmin, meet me by the benches. we need another plan.

Usually, the best way to crash an event is with minimal attention and no theatrics. It’s all about pretending you are exactly where you are supposed to be. If you act like you belong, then you will.

A spectacle is a desperate measure, but you are desperate people. After a few hushed whispers on a bench, you and Seungmin spring into action.

“Help!” Seungmin shouts. “My wife needs help! Please!”

“Your wife?” you whisper through gritted teeth, opening one eye to look at him. You are currently laying on the pavement in a dramatic swoon, Seungmin hunched over you.

“My companion of ambiguous relationship is hurt!” he says. “Ouch,” he adds, because you swat his arm.

Fortunately, he does draw attention. A few people run over, the beefy security guard one of them. His nametag reads Changbin and he is in a black t-shirt at least two sizes too small. You do not begrudge him this, as you would do the same if you had biceps like that.

“What happened?” he asks, crouching down beside Seungmin.

“My friend just passed out,” Seungmin says. He hoists you into his arms as your tongue lolls out of your mouth. “Is there somewhere inside I can take her to sit down? I think all the chaos out here overstimulated her.”

“One second,” Changbin says. He pulls a walkie-talkie out of a holster. It buzzes with static as he turns it on. “Hey, we have a collapsed woman in front of Entry Door B. Can I have back-up clear a path, and someone with First Aid training?” The walkie-talkie buzzes again and Changbin puts it away. He stands up, waving away the small crowd that has gathered. “Yah, everyone back up! This is an emergency!”

“It’s really not,” Seungmin says. He scoops you into a bridal hold then struggles to lift you off the ground. “I just need – whew – somewhere I can – agh – put her down. I can just – AH! – carry her myself.”

Naturally, it is at that moment a familiar voice descends from above.

A familiar, deep, Australian-accented voice.

“Move aside, please.”

“Oh no,” you say, eyes closed. You open them just in time for a glitter-faced, freckled, blue-haired pretty boy in a SECURITY windbreaker to cut through the crowd.

Unfortunately, Felix is just as good looking at this angle. He waves away the gathered onlookers as he approaches, but looks at Changbin first.

“I have First Aid,” he says. “What happened?”

“I just found her collapsed,” Changbin says. “Her friend thinks it’s the crowd. Should we bring her inside?”

Felix looks at you. The concerned furrow in his brow immediately gives way.

You smile innocently.

“No,” Felix says, frowning. “We shouldn’t.”

“Oh come on,” you say. You smack the ground. “I collapsed! I need help!”

“No, you need a ticket,” Felix says. He crosses his arms and stomps a foot. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? Some of us have a job to do, you know?”

“Naaaur ya need a ticket, mate,” you say in a mockingly deep chest voice. “Some of us have jobs ya knaaaaur!”

“Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asks, looking between you and Felix – who is growing increasingly red in the face and breathing much harder.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Seungmin says.

“Ah!” Felix yells, spinning to Changbin. “She doesn’t have a ticket! She’s just trying to sneak in!”

“She doesn’t have a ticket?” Seungmin asks, gasping. He drops you onto the concrete, ignoring your yelp of pain. “But I thought she – she told me we – I – I –“

You watch in betrayed horror as Seungmin pretends to faint, flopping down beside you on the concrete. You sit up, very tempted to slap him across the face but not wanting to give Felix more reasons to accost you.

“Seungmin,” you say. You grab him by the shirt and rattle him around like a ragdoll. “Seungmin, you bastard, don’t even think about it!”

“You.” Felix stomps up behind you. “Get off the ground and come with me.”

“No,” you say. “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”

You shriek – again – when Felix grabs you under the arms and hoists you to your feet. He manhandles you with only a modicum of effort, dragging you away from your stupid traitorous best friend.

You step on Felix’s foot deliberately and he swears. For such a pretty thing, he sure has a filthy mouth. You grab a fistful of his hair and tug, to which he cusses up a storm and pries your hand off his head.

You hear the distinct buzz of Changbin’s walkie-talkie.

“We have a collapsed man in front of Entry Door B. Can someone who isn’t going to start fighting the patrons come help me move him?”

“He’s faking it!” you cry in protest, watching Changbin scoop Seungmin off the ground.

Changbin disregards your outburst. Seungmin gives you a thumbs up behind his back. Felix, of course, doesn’t see it because he’s too busy dragging you away. You are left to sputter in bewildered protest at the injustice of it all.

Felix marches you to the sidewalk, far away from the stadium queues. You are both out of breath by the time you get there. Even so, you attempt to manoeuvre under his arm to run away. In a few quick moves, he knocks you onto your ass.

“Holy fuck!” You are panting now. A line of sweat dots your hairline. You wipe at it and stare morosely at this stupidly competent minimum wage security guard. “What are you, like some kind of karate master or something?”

“Taekwondo, actually,” he says, brushing off his jacket. Then he tips his head and stares down at you.

You would be lying if you said the intensity of his stare didn’t have your heart racing for an entirely new reason. Danger and desire have always danced a close dance for your tastes. Felix is not helping matters, tucking back loose strands of vibrant hair as he looms over you, wetting his bottom lip and staring.

You cross your arms and feign nonchalance, but you can’t look away from him. When he crouches down slowly to meet you at eye level, everything below the belt goes pitter-patter.

“No ticket,” Felix says slowly. “No concert. Do you understand me?”

You stick out your tongue.

“Wow, mature,” he says. His departing farewell is another snarky eyeroll. He shakes his head as he stands, muttering to himself in obvious frustration.

So much for not a mean bone in his body. That bully is all business.

So hot.

You huff and puff for a bit. Your phone is going berserk in your purse, probably the boys trying to reach you. Eventually you succumb to the necessary confession of your twice thwarted efforts. Minho teases that you are losing your touch for real. It makes angry little fireworks pop out of your ears.

Plenty of occasions you have assessed a situation and deemed it unreasonably complicated, but quitting while you’re ahead is not the same thing as admitting defeat. You do not lose. This isn’t even about the concert anymore. Fuck Hwang Hyunjin, he was never worth the pain of a wax in the first place. No. This is about your pride. This is about your dignity. This is about your honour.

You are getting into that concert, one way or another.

First, you gather intel. This comes in the form of snooping, running between queues to figure out the easiest mark. You don’t judge the guards by their appearances this time, because apparently this security team has secret taekwondo masters hidden in their midst.

You watch their every move, calculating and determining your odds therein. Based on visual research and Minho’s confirmation, it seems your best bet is the smiling guard who let Minho through. His nametag reads Jisung and he is a veritable flirt.

Flash him your tits, Minho texts.

Uh, no, I’m not that desperate yet.

Second, with your intel now acquired, you get into the dwindling line. The sun is almost set and a breezy summer chill dances across your cheeks. The concert will be starting soon. You shuffle behind the other stragglers, adjusting your outfit. The jean shorts hug your hips and flash a nice chunk of thigh, and your shirt is already low cut but you figure another tug won’t hurt. You also pull your flannel down your arms to look as flirtatious as possible.

Jisung is barely looking at the tickets as he scans them, chatting merrily to the guests as he lets them through. You pull up a random ticket on your phone, something to hold out while you distract him.

“Hi,” you say.

His eyes flick down to your chest, then back up. He smiles brightly.

“Hi!” he says. “You look nice. Excited for the concert?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say. “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this. It wasn’t easy to get in.”

“I know what you mean,” he says. “Tickets are hard to come by, and so expensive!”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say, leaning in while he scans your phone. This was a bad idea because he looks down at your chest again, just in time for his little device to flash red.

“Oh, oops!” he says. He smiles at you as he shakes his device. “Sorry!” he says. “I think you showed me the wrong ticket. Could you pull up the right one?”

“Ohhh!” you say, looking down at your phone with fake surprise. Life is so unfair. “I’m so sorry… Jisung. Hehe, that’s such a nice name.”

“Haha, thanks,” Jisung says. “My parents picked it, but, yeah, it’s cool. Anyway.” He wiggles his device. “Ticket please!”

You keep smiling and giggling, even as you turn around under the guise of searching through your phone. You glare down at the stupid device, keeping your back to Jisung while you do so. How the fuck are you getting out of this? You flip through screenshots then open your text messenger. Minho’s last words of wisdom blink up at you.

Apparently, you are that desperate.

With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and zip it shut. You shrug your shoulders and plaster that fake smile on your face again. With a swift of flick of your thumbs, you lift your shirt and bra up over your tits and spin around to look at Jisung.

“How’s this for a ticket—”

Jisung looks surprised and delighted. Jisung, however, is standing a few feet back. Probably because he was told to step back. Probably by Felix who is standing in front of you with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.

“Wow,” Felix says. “Just committing crimes now, are we?”

You shove your tits back into your bra indignity, not even embarrassed, just annoyed.

“Tits aren’t a crime,” you say.

“Public indecency is,” he replies.

“You’re… publicly indecent…” Not your best comeback. You glare at him while fixing your shirt. “There’s no way they pay you enough to be riding my ass this hard.”

“They don’t,” Felix says, grabbing your arm. “Believe me when I say riding your ass has been my pleasure.”

“Twisted fuck,” you reply.

You wave at Jisung as Felix tugs you away. He waves back but does nothing to rescue you, because all men are traitors.

You groan loudly as Felix leads you away from the stadium yet again. “Just let me innnnn,” you whine. “Why do you hate meee.”

“I don’t even know you!” Felix says. He deposits you on a bench and takes out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eying the device.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks. “You tried to break into a ticketed event three times. You faked an injury. You flashed yourself in a public place—”

“I wouldn’t have done any of that if you just let me through in the first place!”

“You cannot be serious.” Felix looks ready to rip his hair out. “You don’t have a ticket! Why would I let you in, why would I – AH! Why am I arguing with you! Be quiet, I’m phoning the police.”

“The po— the police?! How dare you!” You try to stand but he pushes you onto the bench one-handed. He holds you there, palm on your shoulder, still way stronger than someone this scrawny should be.

“Fine!” you exclaim. “Fine! You win! I’m sorry, Felix, I was wrong. I was wrong and you were right.”

Felix pauses. “Really,” he says, sounding unconvinced.

“Yes!” You look up at him with the saddest, most watery eyes you can muster. “I just wanted to see the concert but it was stupid to think I could break in.”

He turns off his screen. Success. You watch him slip his phone in his pocket.

“It’s not about being smart or stupid,” he says, the ire gone from his voice. It takes a lot of willpower not to bite his fingers when he pats your shoulder. “It’s about the fact we can’t always get what we want,” he says kindly as he crouches in front of you. His hand goes from your shoulder to your knee, still patting it in a friendly manner.

You bite your tongue because you want to tell him you liked him better when he was being a mean bitch, but that would be counterproductive to your escape attempt.

It turns out, you don’t need to say anything, because he decides to be a bitch again anyway. Felix looks at you with a too-sweet smile and says, “It’s about time someone taught you that lesson.”

“Um, excuse me?” you say, aghast. You clasp your hand over your heart. “Just who do you think you are? First of all, you taught me nothing, I’m still a horrible bitch and I lied when I said you were right. Second, you absolutely can get everything you want, you just have to want it enough to get it. But you wouldn’t know anything about that. You know why, Felix?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he expected this, which he probably did, but you’re too far gone to retreat.

You reach out and cup his face in both hands, turning it to you. Those sharp eyes are unflinching, even with your fingers on his face. You try really hard not to gulp.

“It’s because you are a good boy,” you say. “You always do what you’re told. You always follow the rules. I bet everyone thinks you’re the nicest guy on the team, don’t they? I bet they call you cute little nicknames and all the nice little girls think you’re a sweet, innocent baby. And you are, aren’t you, Felix? You’re just such a good, good boy. But me? I’m not good. I’m not bad. I just like to win. When I want something, I get it, because I chase it, and I don’t stop until I get it. Until it’s all mine.” You lean in close. “Get it?”

His gaze darkens, brows pinching. You take his fleeting moment of vulnerability to shove him onto his back. He sprawls on the ground with a surprised yelp. You sprint away at top speed and flip him off over your shoulder.

It’s a haphazard ploy at best but you are fresh out of plans. What you need is distance between you and Security Guard of the Year, a breather long enough to come up with a final plan. Maybe you can physically break in somewhere: an office window, a janitorial stairwell, something.

You keep an eye out for potential openings as you run.

And run.

Hmm. You’ve been running a long time. Even with the head-start, Felix should have caught you by now. You doubt he would have truly given up. Felix had a deranged look in his eye, similar to the one you get when someone is trying to beat you at your own game. He doesn’t want you to win anymore than you want to lose. You suspect it isn’t about the concert for him either; this is a personal battle.

You come to a gradual stop, hands on your hips as you catch your breath. It’s quiet on this side of the stadium as the queues were on the opposite end.

Quiet, yes. Too quiet.

There’s a stairwell that leads to second level just above your head. Felix is good. You have to give credit where credit is due. If you weren’t a scheming nightmare with a penchant for con-artistry, he probably would have caught you. But without turning around, you know he booked it up the stairs and is two seconds from springing an attack.

You take off running, just in time for him to thump into the grass beside you. You laugh at his strangled cry of frustration as he scrambles to his feet.

Around the next corner is the parking lot. You stop a split second to look over your shoulder and see him hot on your heels. He discarded his jacket and is in a loose sleeveless shirt, revealing he does have some light toning to his lean body. But you don’t stop to measure how proportionate it is to his strength, because he is focussed on you like a laser.

Then he smiles. A slow, slinky smile like a cocky predator about to swipe at its prey. That cat has claws, nasty ones, and you almost want to get tangled in them. Almost. You want to win even more.

And he just set you up for success. There’s a SECURITY jacket on the ground somewhere nearby. That’s your ticket in. You just have to lose Felix in the parking lot and loop back around to find where he tossed it.

You spare no time setting that plan into action, giving Felix a smile of your own before you run. He thunders after you.

The pair of you weave in and out of parked cars. He disappears for a second behind a row of trucks. You whip your head around to figure out where he went, only for him to summersault around the corner and cut you off. You yell instinctively but narrowly dodge his reaching hand. He curses, running after you with his arm outstretched. You duck behind a trailer and lose him, scurrying between some SUVs. You peek at him through the windows, watching him turn in a circle to find where you went. Smiling to yourself, you quietly but quickly back away.

You leave the lot and run back the way you first came. You find Felix’s jacket draped on a random bush.

Your heart is practically singing with adrenaline. Victory is in sight. You push yourself to run faster and reach out with both hands –

— only to find yourself rolling in the grass, Felix’s arms tight around your middle as he tackles you to the ground.

You push and pull at each other, cursing and scrambling very ungracefully. You get out of his arms but he climbs on top of you, then you knee him in the gut so he rolls over, but when you start crawling he grabs your ankles and drags you back.

Ultimately, he Taekwondo Masters you onto your front, hands clasped behind your back. You kick your feet and wail despondently into the grass as he kneels over you, breathing raggedly and swearing again.

“You’re a monster!” you shout. “You’re a tyrant and a bully and you have no right to – HEY!”

He handcuffs you.

“Ha.” He leans in close, speaking right into your ear. “I win.”

“That’s not fair,” you say. “You can’t just—ahh!” You wail in petulance as he lifts you onto your feet. His grip on your bicep is unyielding so you are forced to stomp alongside him as he escorts you…

…back to the sidewalk.

“You’re not busting me?” you ask in confusion. You thought for sure he was going to drag you into some shady office and plop you in a chair until the police arrived. He would probably be super boring and professional about it, staring at you with his dumb horny eyes but not doing anything about it. Nothing sucks more than being all trussed up by a pretty boy with manners.

“I just want you to go and never come back,” Felix says.

“Fine.” You turn around and hold your arms straight behind you. “But I’m like a wolf, Felix. I have your scent for life.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “Not how wolves work by the way. But fine.”

“Oh wow, sorry. Didn’t realize you majored in Wolfology. You got any other fun facts?”

“You are so—”

You smirk at his grumbling. You are just biding your time until he uncuffs one wrist, then you whip around faster than he can compute the action. With one cuff still attached, you grab the second and clamp it down on his wrist. He sputters in bewilderment, at which point you snatch the keys.

“What are you doing—” He tries to grab them but your joined hands make the angle too awkward. You spin around together in a few circles, bonk heads twice, until finally you reel back and chuck the keys as far into the distance as possible.

He stands there, mouth agape. You tap your foot impatiently.

When he realizes what has happened – that you have handcuffed yourself to him and thrown away the keys – he looks at you with fiery eyes, fierce enough you stumble. He yanks your joined hands, the chain ungiving. You watch as he goes through several stages of grief in a matter of moments. Then he closes his eyes and breathes in and out.

“Why,” he says slowly, “did you just do that?”

“I dunno, Felix,” you say. You plop down on the ground and sit cross-legged. It forces him to bend over, your cuffed wrist dragging him down. “Guess we’ll have to go inside and get some back-up keys. And when I’m in the stadium and you uncuff yourself from me, I promise not to run away.”

“That’s your plan?” he snaps. “That’s your plan?”

“What, is there an echo out here?”

“That’s your plan?” he asks again, his deep voice pitching up an octave. He crouches down and shoves his free hand into his hair, shaking his head. “This can’t be happening,” Felix says, more out loud to himself than you. “Why is this happening. Oh my god.”

You squeak when he tugs on the chain, yanking you close, nose to nose.

“What if I just called for back-up?” he asks. “Or skipped that and went right to the police? How would you get out of that?”

“Wait,” you say. “Why aren’t you doing that?”

“Because.”

He leans back as far as he can, sitting on his heels. You duck your head, trying to meet his eye to no avail. He clenches his jaw.

“Felix,” you say. “Why aren’t you just calling for back-up?”

“Because,” he says through gritted teeth. “The handcuffs. Are. Not. Regulation.”

You look at each other. There is a long moment of silence.

Then, “What!” You cackle with complete and utter abandon.

A very unamused Felix glares at you while you throw your head back and laugh.

“You?” you cry, poking your finger against his chest. “You? You? You are just walking around with a pair of handcuffs that you aren’t supposed to have? What the fuuuuuck—” You think you might die laughing.

“Jisung gave them to me before our shift!” he exclaims. “It was a joke because— Never mind! I don’t have to explain myself to you! Hello. Hello.” He grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face roughly to his. He jingles your joined hands. “Not regulation,” he says. “There are no other keys in this building.”

Silence falls again.

Then, “Oh.” You stare at him. “Shit.”

A minute later, you and Felix are scuttling around trying to find the key. You must have a very good arm because it landed near the stadium and disappeared in some bushes.

You and Felix keep forgetting your wrists are connected, reaching in opposite directions only to snap back together. You are certain you are going to end the night with a few bumps and bruises.

The entire time you are searching for the key, Felix is grumbling irritably. He tears his way through a bush, his deep voice pitching up with a miserable whine when he can’t find it.

“This is so stupid,” he says. He throws a stick at the wall. “I am a good worker. I never break the rules. I am not getting in trouble for this. You did this. You did this to me.”

On he goes, grumble, grumble, grumble, bitch, bitch, bitch.

“It’s not like the key disappeared,” you say, pushing some pebbles around. “It has to be here somewhere.”

It is starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple. The stadium lights blare down on you. Felix uses his phone flashlight to beam extra light at the ground. The only time he stops grumbling is when the noise in the stadium changes, the concert clearly beginning. He takes time out of his busy searching schedule to give you a mean smile.

“When we find those keys,” you say, “I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and leaving you to freeze to death in your stupid tank top.”

“It’s not a tank top,” he says. “It’s a t-shirt. I cut the sleeves off. And when we find those keys, I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and phoning the police.”

“Well then,” you say, “may the best key finder in a slutty tank top win.”

“It’s not a tank top.”

You continue to search. It is utterly illogical that the keys would just vanish but the longer it takes, the more concerned you get. It just doesn’t make sense! Things don’t just disappear! The keys landed somewhere over here, so they have to be…

You see it first. You sit there in a stunned stupor. You swat at Felix with your cuffed hand.

“What?” he says without looking at you. You continue to slap him until he forces your hand down, tangling your fingers with his. “What!”

You point. He crowds in behind you to look over your shoulder. You feel him exhale.

“Please don’t tell me…”

You both lean to look down the sewer drain. He flashes his phone light over it. Something silver glints back in the darkness.

“Fuck!” Felix says. He doesn’t stop there. What follows is a string of cusses so unbelievably foul and complex that you honestly believe it should quality him for Pulitzer in poetry. When he has exhausted every expletive in several different languages, he plops down on his ass and stares up at the sky with mute despondency.

“So what happens now?” you ask. “Do we fuck?”

“What?” He looks at you with utter bewilderment. “What the fuck? Why would you suggest that? What would that solve?”

“Nothing,” you say. “But it would kill the time and couldn’t make things worse.”

“You are insane,” he says. “I am handcuffed to an insane person.”

“Hey, ‘mate’, you were the one with the non-regulation handcuffs in the first place. I could solve this problem real quick by phoning the authorities myself and saying some crazy guy put me in cuffs.”

“I dare you,” he says. “Try.”

“No,” you say. And not just because you have a record with the police and they would never take your side. But Felix doesn’t need to know that. Well, you suspect Felix is smart enough to guess it, but he doesn’t need the confirmation. “I’d rather make you suffer,” you say instead. You sit back in an insouciant slouch like the whole circumstance is beneath your attention. “Figure it out, pretty boy.”

“Well,” he says, “apparently if you break your wrists then you can force them through the cuffs.”

“Ew!” You push him in the middle of his chest. He doesn’t fall, but he does glare at you. “We’re not doing that! What a stupid plan! You’ve been guzzling the hair dye fumes, buddy. Think of a plan that doesn’t involve injury, thank you.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Felix says with another put-upon sigh, “but fine. I have another pair at home so the keys—”

“Wait,” you interrupt. “I thought someone gave you the cuffs today? Why do you have another key at home?”

“I have another pair,” he repeats, “of the same handcuffs.”

“You—”

“Already own a pair, yes, move on.” He aggressively pushes hair out of his eyes. “He clearly bought it from the same place so my key should work for this one too.”

“So despite your uppity school boy routine, you do own non-regulation handcuffs and not just as a joke. Wow, Felix.” You giggle helplessly. “Be careful or I might start to like you.”

He is glaring at you, no surprise, but the tips of his ears blush pink.

“Let’s just go,” Felix says. “The sooner I get you off, the sooner I can forget about your existence.”

“You can get me off as fast or slow as you like—ahh!”

Once more, the secret superman is manhandling you onto your feet. Without pausing for breath, he turns and marches away. You are forced to stumble behind his swift strides, your hands swinging close enough that your fingertips brush every so often.

“How do I know you’re not gonna murder me?” you ask.

“You don’t,” he replies.

“How do you know I’m not gonna murder you?”

“I don’t.” He sounds more annoyed than afraid. “But it sounds better than being cuffed to you forever. I’ll take my chances. Come on.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you grumble.

He comes to an abrupt halt and you crash into him with a sharp exhale. He grabs your hand and tugs you close. You blink at him with surprise while he tips his head in that studious way.

“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t. In fact, it’s almost nice, you forced to finally do what I’m asking. If you’re not careful, it might even make me like you.”

It is so cold and sarcastic.

It gets you so hot.

Seriously, what is with your stupid brain? How does it cross the wires of fear and desire like that? Felix is speaking at you with that deep, dark, nasty voice of his and your heart should be skipping beats in concern, not because you think he’s sexy when he’s being a bitch.

You hide it from him well enough, glaring at him like he glared at you. He just snorts and shakes his head.

“What?” you ask.

“Interesting,” he replies. “Very interesting.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiles politely, for a moment looking like the unassuming pretty boy you thought he was. He bats his long eyelashes at you, smiles a coy smile, and squeezes your hand. “Come on,” he says. “We tried this your way and it got us in trouble. Time to be a good girl and do it my way. No, stop, don’t say anything. Be quiet. Just walk. Let’s go.”

You stumble when he tugs you after him. Your mouth is hanging open yet again.

You are proud to say that in your many years of bad girl shenanigans, you have never truly met your match. You’ve played pretend a few times, let a couple losers think they won, if only because you liked the game of it. But no one has ever really taken control. No one has ever really beat you. No one has ever come close.

No one. Until today.

You glare at the back of Felix’s head, brain stampeding as fast as your heart. Because finally, you’ve found him, your perfect match. Lashed to you through the metal manifestation of fate’s red string.

You didn’t know what game you were playing before, but now you do.

And you’re going to win.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #skz smut

668 notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 26 days

Note

I would love to request a very spicy nsfw F!readerx crosshair with a side of “you look like you would beg me to spank you”

Don’t Move*** 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Crosshair X Female Reader

word count: 2.3k

prompts:

“You look like you would beg me to spank you.”

The tension between you and Crosshair was higher than ever before and all it takes is for one comment to make him take action.

Authors note: sorry for the wait - I hope this is 🌶️ enough for you @aynavaano 🩵

warnings: NSFW, 18+. Smut, Mutual pining, Heavy Flirting, Spanking, Fingering, Making Out, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Marauder Sex, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Crosshair, Female Reader, Accidental Love Confession, Cum Eating kinda, Porn without Plot but with Feelings, P in V Sex, Nudity, Creampie, Minor Aftercare, Fluff, not Proofread.

The allure of Crosshair was intoxicating to you.

It was something that had you stirring awake in the night with vivid fantasies of his talented hands on your body, his whispered words of adoration kissing along your skin that made your desires for the Sniper grow stronger every passing rotation.

Now, as his eyes hungrily roam over you from across the Marauder, an almost primal heat courses through your veins, your arousal undeniable which was evident in the dampness of your panties that was a recurrence most of the time.

Just the other day, his touch sent shockwaves of want through you as he helped you with his rifle, his breath hot against your skin, his fingers dancing over your own as he stands tantalisingly close to your body from behind. You knew his actions were deliberate, but the thought of him stopping never crossed your mind. In fact, you liked him too much to never wanting him to stop anyway.

"Like what you see?" His voice breaks through the haze of desire, his words dripping with innuendo as he meets your gaze with a knowing smirk.

"Maybe. But I could ask you the same. See something you want?" You retort, your voice laced with exotic notions. A flicker of hunger burns in his eyes as he responds with a subtle flex of his fingers.

"Absolutely."

Your breath hitches at his response, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment, the need for him overwhelming as you struggle to maintain composure, your body yearning for his touch.

He strides towards you, the two of you finally alone. Coming to a stop mere inches away, his presence engulfs you, his warm breath invitingly close. You bite your lip, a mixture of nerves and eagerness builds within you as he gazes down at you with a cocksure smirk. But you meet his gaze with equal boldness, trailing a finger provocatively over his armor before boldly reaching for his pouch of toothpicks, plucking one into your mouth with a playful flick of your tongue.

No one ever touches his toothpicks.

He licks his lips, eyes smoldering with hunger. "Feeling naughty, huh?"

You flutter your lashes, an innocent smile playing on your lips as you tease the wooden pick between your lips, inviting him to indulge in your wickedness. "Naughty? Maybe. What's it to you?"

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he leans in, his hand finding the wall beside your head, effectively pinning you in. "You know exactly what I mean, kitten," he purrs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear as he leans closer. "That toothpick belongs to me."

Raising an eyebrow, your pulse quickening with excitement, you challenge him with a daring smirk. "Then take it back."

With a wicked grin, he closes the remaining distance between you, his breath mingling with yours, “don’t move,” he rasps as he plucks the pick from between your lips with his teeth, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you. Stepping back slightly, he now sports the toothpick between his own lips, his eyes dark with desire as he runs his tongue along the wetness of where your lips had been. "Your tongue tastes sweet," he murmurs, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Perhaps you'd like another taste?" you suggest boldy, goosebumps running up and down your arms.

"Perhaps," he smirks, "but you've been a very naughty girl."

Closing the gap between you once more, your lips barely brushing against his, you whisper, "Do you not enjoy it when I'm naughty?"

"Oh I do," he growls, his voice husky with need, "and you look like you would beg me to spank you."

Your eyes flutter closed, a deep breath filling your lungs as his words burn within you, your core pulsating.

The tension in the air crackles with anticipation, both of you surrendering to the undeniable attraction that has simmered between you both for what felt like forever. Finally alone, the freedom to indulge in each other's desires is too intoxicating to ignore.

"I don't think I need to beg... do you?" you whisper, your voice laced with longing.

Crosshair’s response is a deep groan that reverberates through you and down to your cunt before he crashes into you, pressing you against the wall with a ardent kiss. His hand tangles in your hair as your fingers dig into his shoulders, the kiss passionate and frantic, teeth clashing in a frenzy of lust.

"Fuck, you're insatiable," he grunts, his hands tearing at your pants, the fabric giving way to reveal your bare skin to the cool air of the ship. "Do you want this?"

"Yes," you gasp eagerly as he pulls your pants down, leaving you exposed and ready.

His fingers delve into your panties, a low chuckle sings in his chest as he feels the wetness between your thighs. "Is this what I do to you? Make you dripping wet?"

Your vision blurs with desire as his skilled fingers tease you, rubbing against your folds with an urgent need before withdrawing to his lips, sucking them clean. "Your cunt tastes so sweet," he murmurs, his voice husky.

"It's all yours... I'm all yours, Crosshair," you whimper, your body arching towards his touch.

"That's right, you belong to me," he grunts, and with a commanding grip, he pins your leg in place, his voice dripping with desire as he issues his command. "Don't move," he growls, his words laced with hunger, before positioning himself between your thighs. Without hesitation, his fingers thrust into you, drawing a gasp of pleasure from your lips as you yield to his touch.

The sensation is raw, intense, as he drives into you with unbridled passion. Each rough stroke ignites a fire within you, sparks course through your veins, your breath hitching with every stroke.

His lips crash against yours once more, your whimpers swallowed by his demanding kiss as he asserts his dominance, his tongue plunging into your mouth in a battle for control while his finger curls expertly inside you.

Guiding you away from the wall, his hands still firmly cupping your dripping heated core, he positions you over one of the control panels, bending you over as he continues his relentless ministrations on your senses. His other hand grips the flesh of your arse possessively as he speaks, his voice burning with need. "You said you didn't have to beg," he murmurs, his eyes devouring the sight of your exposed lower half, "but I'd still like to hear you."

You grin, intoxicated by him as the buttons and switches press into your skin. Despite your best efforts to stifle your lewd noises, the sound of your wet pussy being tended to betrays your arousal. "Spank me, Crosshair, please," you plead, unable to resist the allure of his command.

"You're going to have to beg more, my sweet," he orders, a soft groan escaping his lips as he slips another finger inside you, stretching you open further. "Beg."

"Please, Cross! Please spank me. I've been a naughty girl, and I need to be punished! Spank me hard," you plead again, this time your voice dripping with need.

And he obliges.

His hand slams against your exposed skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as you cry out in ecstasy. "Ohhhh, again, please, Cross," you whimper, your body craving more of his delicious punishment.

Your body writhes beneath him, aching for more, as he relentlessly drives you towards the edge of ecstasy. With each flick of his wrist followed by occasional spank, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the brink, your senses consumed by the overwhelming pleasure he evokes to your being.

“C-Crosshair,” you pant after a few minutes, your face smushed against a button, “you’re going to make me cum,” you whimper, biting down hard on your lip as stars cloud your vision, your toes curling.

His eyes dance with the fire of his desires. “Good. Cum for me,” he hissed, leaning over you with, voice a rough whisper in your ear.

He repeats his command, his fingers curling and thrusting inside you with relentless precision. The coil of pleasure inside you tightens and then snaps as you surrender to his touch, your body erupting in a wave of ecstasy you never knew you’d discover. “Oh, fuck!” you cry out, your legs trembling, barely able to support you. He holds you firmly in place as you cum, your juices coating his fingers.

As your climax subsides, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling achingly empty. He pops them into his mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied moan.

You barely have a moment to catch your breath when Crosshair lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carries you to the bunks with a sense of urgency. His lips capture yours in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as you both moan into each other's mouths, hands roaming with desperate need.

He lays you down gently, stripping himself free from his armour aside from his pants before his body pressed firmly against yours. You gasp, feeling the hard length of him against your thigh which makes your cunt throb again. "Stars, I need you," he groans roughly, helping you remove the remainder of your clothes which allows your breast to bounce free, completely exposed to the Sniper.

"Take me, Crosshair," you whisper desperately, your fingers deftly tugging on the hem of his pants where he kicks them off impatiently, his hard cock springing free, making your eyes widen at the sight.

This time, he completely tears your panties away, the sound of the fabric ripping making your breath hitch. "You're still so fucking wet," he murmurs, his fingers gliding through your slick folds once more before positioning himself at your entrance. His tip pushes against your clit making your body twitch in response, his eyes on you as he asks, "Are you ready for me?"

"Yes," you moan, your hips arching towards him, needing that pressure and desperate for the connection. "I want you so badly."

He pushes into you slowly, the thick head of his cock stretching you deliciously. You both groan in unison as he fills you completely, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still. "Fuck, you feel so good," he growls, pulling back slightly, eyes blown to see his cock covered in your arousal before thrusting in again, harder this time.

Your nails dig into the base of his bunk as he sets a relentless pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Oh, Crosshair, yes!" you cry out, your voice filled with ecstasy. "Just like that, p-please don't stop."

"You're so tight," he pants, his breath hot against you as he leans in close. "You're taking me so, so well kitten. Your pussy is swallowing my cock sooo nicely.” This is probably the most vocal Crosshair had ever been with you, and you really fucking liked it. “It’s like you were made for me."

The sound of your wetness mixed with his grunts and moans as well as his thighs slapping against you fills the small space, the rhythm and toughness of his thrusts making it seem like the whole Marauder was shaking. Hopefully nobody was outside…

"Harder," you beg, locking eyes with him as you bite your lip, almost drawing blood. Your own hands grip your legs, keeping them spread wide and open for him. "Fuck me harder, Crosshair."

With a hiss, he complies, his hips slamming into yours with a force that makes you see stars and nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Shit! Oh fuck, Cross! You’re so good.” You sob pathetically, briefly moving your eyes away from his to watch his balls practically sink into you.

"You like that, don't you?" he taunts with a wicked grin, "You love being fucked like a slut."

"Yes," you whimper, your body arching into him. Your mind was so jumbled you didn’t even comprehend what you were saying as you accidentally revealed how you truly felt about him, “I love it, I love you. Please, Crosshair, make me cum."

You didn’t see how his eyes softened at your confession but he doesn’t comment on it for the moment. Instead, he focuses on your plea.

"Cum for me," he demands, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight and determined circles although it appeared like second nature to him. “Cum on my cock and I’ll cream this cute little hole of yours.”

There it is again, words you had only dreamed of imaging Crosshair saying to you. Not at all a conversationalist, usually. But the combination of his thrusts, his filthy promise and the stimulation on your clit sends you suddenly spiraling into an orgasm, your walls clenching around him as you cry out his name.

"Oh, fuck!" you scream, your body convulsing with an intensity so wild you almost felt faint. But, he doesn't stop. He carried on driving into you with an unbridled sense of urgency, his body beginning to twitch as you rode out your orgasm as he closed in on his own.

Feeling you tighten around him, your walls clenching and pulsing on the veins of his cock pushes Crosshair over the edge. With a final, deep and intense thrust, he moans loudly - sinfully - spilling his seed inside you. "Take it all," he mutters, his hips jerking as he fills you with his hot cum. "That’s it baby… good girl,” he rasps, eyes fluttering close, “you’re mine."

As he collapses on top of you, your legs naturally wrapping around him, both of you are panting and completely spent. After a minute or so, he leans back and gently kisses your forehead. "You're perfect," he whispers, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

You smile lazily, still basking in the afterglow. "Not really," you murmur, feeling a mix of shyness and satisfaction.

"Don't be modest," he insists, cupping your face tenderly. "You are."

You lean in for a sweet, lingering kiss, your bodies still entwined. "In that case," you say with a playful yet hopeful glint in your eyes, "how about… we see just how perfect we can be together?"

He chuckles but his smile is one of shyness too, a little flustered himself, and nods slowly. “I think I'd be up for that," he answers with another small kiss. “And for the record…I love you too.”

Masterlist is pinned on my profile 🫧🩵

Tags: @photogirl894 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904 @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur r @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @moonstrider9904

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#crosshair x reader #the bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #the bad batch crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb #nahoney22 writes

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year

Text

Legilimens

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Tags: explicit | smut | dominis | sort-of voyeurism | light choking

2.3k words

A/n: Here we go again.

Ominis was far from an ordinary wizard—as a pureblood descendant of Salazar Slytherin, he was a Parselmouth, meaning he had inherited the ability to talk to snakes. He was born blind but Ominis didn't often see this as a handicap—he had his wand which had formed a unique bond with him, enabling him to navigate more easily around the world. He had realised from a young age that he also possessed another rare ability, though it had been many years until he learned it had a name—sighted wizards would call it Legilimency. It was something you could learn, but some people were born with the talent, including Ominis. He had consumed books about Legilimency as soon as he arrived at Hogwarts, burying himself in the library for days at a time in an attempt to understand it more. But, Ominis was not a normal wizard, and thus his Legilimency was not entirely usual.

The literature often highlighted the need to maintain eye contact in order to probe the mind of the subject. The eyes were the window to the soul, after all. What Ominis experienced was different to most accounts he'd read, whereby the Legilimens was able to view memories in vivid detail—his was more of an innate empathic ability to feel emotions attached to thoughts. This could be intensely uncomfortable as he felt others' emotions as if they were his own. If he focused on a person sufficiently, all the better if he were able to touch them, he could hear their memories. He had tried this on Sebastian, with his permission, of course—being able to enter his mind was disconcerting for the first time, like wading through a turbulent sea with a wicked undercurrent, each wave a new memory or subconscious thought. It had left them both with a headache, and Ominis a new appreciation for his friend's experiences.

Ominis rarely thought to use his ability—though his empathic ability was incredibly useful for detecting deception—until he met you. You were an enigma—when you arrived at Hogwarts, Ominis had scoffed at everyone's enthusiasm for the new fifth year, the new subject of gossip. Your entrance had been legendary, and the gossip thickened with rumours of your daring battle with a troll, your ability to wield an ancient type of magic. You were also seemingly impervious to Sebastian's charms. You were, like Ominis, nothing but ordinary—you were a truly extraordinary witch.

Ominis found his interest in you grow exponentially. He wanted to know more, but he had the distinct impression that you were less than willing to share what you deemed to be superfluous details. Ominis supposed that attitude came with being so extraordinary, that your more mundane interests were buried. But Ominis wanted to know every minute detail. And so, for the first time in years, he considered using his gift.

The first time the thought crossed his mind was during a particularly boring History of Magic lesson. You sat next to him, as you most often did, trying to stay awake, as most of the class often did. Ominis was bored, and curious, so he reached out with his mind, listening to the sound of your breathing and eventually found you. Ah yes, there was the boredom. Ominis smirked and chuckled softly. He heard you shuffle in your seat, the brush of your hair against your robes as you turned your head towards him. The change in your thoughts hit Ominis like a broom to the face, the unexpected shift to the overwhelmingly visceral feeling as you looked at him had his heart pounding in his chest—arousal. Ominis wasn't sure he'd understood the feeling at first, though the tightness in his trousers was certainly an indication that what he'd happened upon was intensely pleasurable.

Ominis felt his cheeks burning as he shuffled in his seat, the friction against the fabric making him ball up his fists in frustration. He knew he should stop, but how could he now? He heard you fidgeting next to him, tapping on the desk with your finger, and focused on you again. There you were, your aura—he reached out and found the jumble of thoughts and memories, at the very forefront of your mind was your current train of thought, tantalisingly close. Ominis continued to pull at the thought and was completely unprepared for what he found.

"Please, Ominis, touch me," your usually strong and confident voice whimpered.

He heard a muttered reply, in his own voice, but it hadn't come from his lips.

"You're so wet, you naughty girl. Have you been thinking about this all day?"

Ominis pulled away from your mind, his head spinning and gripping the edge of the desk in front of him. It took every ounce of willpower for him not to gasp out loud as his cock twitched eagerly in his trousers.

"Are you okay, Ominis?" you asked from beside him.

"Yes, just a headache," he managed to reply.

"Me too."

Ominis had felt intensely guilty for probing your thoughts, though his intentions were innocent—he was just curious, he wanted to know more about you and your interests. Given what he now knew, the urge to find out more was almost overwhelming—he wondered if what he'd heard had been a one-off, fleeting thought.

You arrived in the common room that evening with Sebastian, chatting animatedly about a book you'd found in the restricted section of the library. Ominis frowned but didn't press the matter, the last time you two had been in the restricted section all hell had broken loose a few months later, but you were both so intensely curious people with a thirst for knowledge. As was Ominis, though his curiosity was almost entirely focused on you. You settled down onto the sofa next to him, the sweet scent of your hair wafting past Ominis' nose, as Sebastian took the armchair opposite.

"What are you up to, Ominis?" you asked.

"Just a little light reading," Ominis replied, patting the book on his knee, though truthfully he'd just been daydreaming about you.

"I need to start our History of Magic essay if you want to join me?" you asked.

"Yes," Ominis replied, far too quickly. "May as well make a start."

"Coming, Sebastian?"

"Mmm? Oh, no, you go ahead, I want to read more of this book," he replied.

Ominis privately thanked Sebastian's intense interest in the new book as you fell into step with him, walking down the hallways to the library. The room was quiet, even by library standards, and the study area was almost empty, with only a few whispered voices coming from the bank of desks. Ominis settled into a chair on the table furthest away from the chatting students and you sat next to him, pulling books, parchment and quill from your bag. Ominis had no intention of studying, however, though he pulled his own supplies from his bag and lay them out on the table in front of him, opening the book and pointing the tip of his wand at the contents page, then flicking to the section on Goblin riots.

Your breathing had settled next to him as your hand flicked through the pages of your book and your quill scratched on the parchment, scribbling furiously. Ominis pointed his wand at his book but didn't cast the incantation to read the text, instead turning his attention to you. It was easier to find you now, your familiar aura and the feel of your mind. Ominis slipped into your thoughts with much less effort this time, ignoring your concentrated efforts on the incredibly boring essay and instead delving deeper into your memories. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, only that he would know when he found it. He caught glances of your childhood, your time at Hogwarts, and Ominis felt a pang in his stomach as he heard Sebastian's voice and the unmistakable sound of him kissing you. Ominis withdrew, but he was lost amongst the turbulent wash, until he clung onto something familiar—himself.

His voice was unmistakably his, but it was saying words he had never said—this wasn't a memory, this was a fantasy. The rush of euphoria hit him, the unmistakable, hungry wanting was intense and addictive to witness. Your voice was breathy, moaning his name over and over again and whimpering softly. Ominis' face was burning, the blood rushing to his cock as he tried to control his breathing.

"If you don't stop whining I'll have to gag you," Ominis' rough voice said.

You whimpered again and Ominis heard the unmistakable slap of skin on skin.

"I told you to be quiet," he growled.

Ominis heard your muffled protests before he withdrew again from your mind, rather more forcefully than he'd intended.

"Argh, my head," you moaned next to him.

Ominis' own head pounded, the pressure behind his eyes intense. His heart was racing trying to make sense of what he'd witnessed, but he couldn't concentrate. He'd never felt such intense frustration as his erection throbbed painfully under the desk. He reached down and adjusted himself, letting out an unintentional gasp at the touch.

"Ominis…?" your voice whispered next to him.

Ominis groped along the table, finding your wrist and pulling you to your feet. He gripped his wand and led you out of the study area, pulling you roughly alongside him out of the library and towards the one place he could guarantee some privacy.

"Ominis, what in Merlin's name is going on?" you asked.

"You'll see," Ominis replied.

By the time you both stepped into the Undercroft, Ominis was absolutely feral. He pinned you against the cold stone wall, his shaking hand tracing from your chest up to your neck, where you gasped, your arousal so obvious even without Ominis' empathic ability. His fingers gripped you under your jaw and his lips found yours, sucking on your lower lip eagerly. Your lips were so soft, your tongue so wet and inviting, eagerly licking Ominis' lips between erratic breaths. When you whimpered, the sound was already familiar but so very exciting, and Ominis found himself tugging at the clothing beneath your robes, discarding your tie and breaking more than a few buttons in his haste to remove your shirt. The rest of your clothes followed as Ominis threw off his own robes and your hands tugged eagerly at his trouser buttons.

His hand on your jaw ran down your neck, and oh, you liked that. Ominis' hand stilled, his grip tightening around your windpipe and pressing you lightly into the wall. Ominis was careful, he didn't want you hurt, but you were obviously enjoying it. From what he'd seen, he'd figured out your particular sexual proclivities, and Ominis was more than happy to abide by your desires. Your hands had finally managed to tug down his trousers, his painfully hard cock released from the restrictive fabric, and Ominis groaned at the release of pressure.

"Get on your knees," he growled, releasing his hand on your neck.

You were more than eager to do as you were told as Ominis felt the grip of your small hand around his shaft and the exquisite warmth of your mouth enveloping his cock, your soft tongue twirling over his sensitive head. Ominis groaned and laced his fingers in your hair, pulling your head towards him until he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, good girl," he muttered.

Your moans were music to his ears as his orgasm built quickly with every eager movement of your head. Ominis groaned as he teetered close to the edge, but he wasn't ready for this to end—he wanted you to be satisfied, after all.

"Get up," Ominis said.

The suction on his cock released as you stood up in front of him and Ominis ran his hands over your naked torso, your skin pricked with goosebumps from the cold air in the cavernous room. He found your soft breasts, and the erect nipple that he took between his thumb and forefinger, teasing it as your moans rang in his ears. Your hands were in his hair, your lips on his neck, running soft kisses along his skin and nipping just below his ear. Ominis shuddered and his hands headed south, roughly pulling up your skirt and tugging at your underwear. You pulled them down, allowing him access to between your legs, where Ominis was greeted by the warmth and wetness of your arousal. Ominis parted your lips, running a finger over your swollen clit as you shuddered beneath his touch, sliding his digit inside you. He added another finger, your soaking entrance stretching easily to accommodate them.

Ominis was dizzy and feverish with want. He'd never imagined he could have this effect on you, and it was exhilarating how your normally composed and intimidating exterior crumpled at his touch. He removed his fingers, running his hands around your waist and gripping you by the flesh of your behind, lifting you off the floor and pinning you with his weight against the cold stone wall. You made a surprised sound and gripped his shoulders as Ominis lowered you onto his cock.

"Oh, fuck, Ominis," you gasped.

Ominis grinned as he thrusted into you, moaning from the tightness around his head. He knew he wouldn't last long, you felt too good, but he had one thing he wanted to do first.

"Shut up, or I'll have to gag you," Ominis rasped, replaying the memory of your fantasy.

You whined loudly in response as your walls contracted around his cock, tipping him over the edge, releasing his pent up desire inside you as you both gasped for breath. Ominis' arms were shaking as he withdrew from between your legs and lowering you to the floor, leaning his head against your forehead. You brushed your lips against his as your hands ran over his torso gently.

"Merlin, Ominis, what was that?" you gasped.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy it? It's like you've been in my head," you laughed.

Ominis bit his lip but kept his silence—some things were better kept secret.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt smut

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anto-pops · 1 year

Text

A New Frame of Mind - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: Sebastian doesn't always wear his glasses, but when he does, you make sure you're there for the occasion. Today was one of those rare days.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian wearing his glasses turns you on big time, so you decide to go fool around in the Restricted Section instead of studying.

(For those confused, allow me to direct your attention to exhibits A, B, and C)

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 !

Sebastian was wearing his glasses again.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; his vision had progressively worsened since your fifth-year, due in large part to his affinity for holding his books mere inches from his nose. He was always reading, especially with the looming threat of your N.E.W.T’s around the corner, which was precisely why the two of you found yourselves in the library on a Saturday afternoon instead of at The Three Broomsticks.

You weren’t really complaining, though. Not when you got to watch Sebastian dutifully scan his textbooks, jotting down notes in the margins, and occasionally pushing the slippery frames up his nose. It was a rather cute sight, to be completely honest, and you loved getting to see him like this. Sebastian would sooner be caught dead in a hole than wear his glasses in public, opting to squint across the classroom as opposed to just using the damn things.

You were grateful that you didn’t factor into the percentage of people Sebastian wanted to hide his glasses from. He looked far too attractive with them on for you to begin fathoming not getting to see him wearing them.

Propping your elbow on the table, you leaned forward to stare harder at your boyfriend, appreciative of his wicked-focus on his notes. Sebastian didn’t have a problem with you watching him– quite the opposite in fact– but when he was studying this hard, he would get a really cute little line between his eyebrows, and sometimes he would unconsciously pout. He was the most interesting to observe when he wasn’t thinking about what sort of face he was making.

Today was definitely a pouting day. You wondered briefly what subject he was looking over and if there were any way for you to help him, but if asking ran the risk of breaking Sebastian’s concentration, then you wouldn’t get to look at that face anymore. So, all too selfishly, you stayed quiet to enjoy the way the lazy afternoon sunlight streamed through the window and played over Sebastian’s tanned, freckled skin.

There was a slight downside to staring at someone like Sebastian Sallow for too long, though. Especially when he was wearing his damn glasses.

You shifted silently in your seat, all too aware of the slick pooling between your clenched thighs, and you readjusted yourself so you weren’t as stiff. It was only going to worsen from here on out, so you figured you might as well get comfortable while you shamelessly ogled the man.

As Sebastian studied, he slipped his hand through his hair, the furrow between his brows deepening as he reconsidered and crossed out whatever phrase he’d jotted down. All the while you just continued watching him, memorizing how he looked and how he loosely gripped his quill, his thoughts clearly flying through his head faster than his hand could keep up.

Unexpectedly, Sebastian sat up in his chair, closing his textbook with a groan and raking his hands through his hair once again. He slouched down in his seat, spreading his legs under the table and lacing his fingers over the back of his neck. His eyes were closed behind the thin, black frames, so he had yet to catch on to your staring. Licking your lips nervously, you scooted your chair closer and asked him, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian sighed, seemingly deflating as the words left him. “Just bored.”

You hummed vaguely, scanning his laid-back position with greedy eyes. He somehow managed to look more attractive with his relaxed posture, and the put-upon sigh he huffed out was what finally broke your composure.

“We could take a break,” you offered with a low, sultry voice. The promising inflection in your tone had Sebastian’s eyes flying open to fix on you, and you flushed under his burning stare. “I kind of want to get you off.”

There was a brief silence that followed your declaration, and Sebastian arched a brow at you, swallowing thickly as the weight of your statement settled over him. “Oh?”

“You look really good today,” you mumbled across from him. “Makes me want to touch you, to be honest.”

Sebastian continued to stare unblinkingly at you– something skin to surprise etching across his features– and then he was smiling coyly at you. “Okay.”

With far too much enthusiasm, you stood from your seat, charming away your own books and quills in a flash, and Sebastian laughed at the blatant way you rushed to abandon your studying. The sound and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled only served to spur you into action faster, gesturing at the table for him to do the same, and as soon as he was ready you rounded the table to grab his hand. Tugging him along behind you, you all but dragged Sebastian towards the iron gates of the Restricted Section, releasing him momentarily to unlock the entryway before his hand was back in yours.

There were a few students holed up in the Library at this time of day, but most of them had bunkered down on the second level— as far away from Madame Scribner as they could get. It made it all too easy to slip inside the off-limits corridor and hurry past the statues of armor that lined the walls. Sebastian kept pace behind you, grinning like an idiot from the giddy anticipation that now burned like a fire in his gut.

You descended the final staircase into what you and Sebastian had deemed the ‘safe-zone’ and practically body-slammed him against the wall, your lips crashing together in a flurry of teeth and tongue while you frantically began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Sebastian caved to you instantly, letting you take control while he reveled in your sudden change in attitude. What the hell had you been plotting while upstairs?

The wet sounds of the kiss filled the room, and you only broke away once you reached the last clasp on his top, pulling back to hastily slip the material off his shoulders. Sebastian leaned back to shrug the fabric away, gazing down at you with equal parts curiosity and mischievousness glimmering in his eyes. The expression had you pausing your ministrations to stare back, because with those fucking glasses on his face, it looked ten-times more seductive than normal.

Swearing softly under your breath, you dove back in for another heated kiss. You slipped your tongue between his lips, sighing at the way Sebastian wrapped his arms around you, trailing his gentle fingers up your spine, then through your hair. His nails scraped against your scalp, knowing exactly what buttons to push to get you worked up into a frantic, needy mess.

Rather than allowing yourself to get distracted, however, you swallowed a moan and nipped lightly at his lips, ducking your head to mouth wetly against the sensitive column of his throat. Sebastian’s head tipped back against the wall with a heavy thunk, and he groaned when you bit down to work a mark into the skin, his hips rocking deliciously against yours as he sought out more stimulation.

You huffed against his pulse, moving to suck another light mark over his collarbone while simultaneously pulling your hips away from Sebastian’s to begin unbuttoning his trousers. The flaps were flicked to the side, and you wasted little time stuffing your hand right into his briefs, wrapping your fingers around his length and stroking him the best that you could with what little room there was to work with. You heard Sebastian gulp, and his breathing picked up as he rocked further into your warm, inviting hand.

The attention wasn’t nearly enough for you, though. You nuzzled briefly into the crook of Sebastian’s shoulder, eyeing the darkening bruises you’d branded him with before you made your way lower down his body. Impatiently, you dragged your mouth down the slender lines of his chest, his stomach, then his hips. As you dropped to your knees, you shucked down Sebastian’s pants and underwear, giving him just enough space to help you shimmy the material around his thighs before you were sidling right up against his front.

“What’s got you so– ah,” Sebastian gasped, cut off by the feeling of your lips wrapping around the head of his cock. You fought a smile and began stroking him, bobbing your head on his length, taking him deeper and humming in amusement at the guttural sounds that fell from his parted lips. The way his cock tasted against your tongue drove you wild with lust, and you brazenly leaned forward to bury your nose in the sparse collection of hair below his navel.

Up until then, Sebastian’s hands had been hovering uselessly in mid-air– but then you swallowed around him– and his trembling fingers were scraping through your hair to gather the strands in his clenched fists. It was as if his body couldn’t decide what to do; his hips twitched back against the wall in a vain attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but his vice grip on your head held you firmly in place on his cock.

“Fuck–” he gasped again, his strained voice effectively amplifying the storm that waged in your blood. “You’re trying to kill me.”

Sebastian heard and felt your throaty chuckle around his pulsing shaft, which in turn pulled another sinful moan from his lips. His vision flared white when you flattened your tongue along the underside of his cock, poking the wet muscle past your lips to lave ever so softly against his balls, and the telling buck of his hips against your chin had you gagging loudly on him. When you peered up at Sebastian through your tear-riddled lashes, those lust-dark eyes were already fixed on you, and the keening sound that ripped from his throat when you held his gaze had you genuinely concerned that you would be discovered.

Eventually, Sebastian’s hold on your scalp lessened, allowing you to pull off of his cock with a deep, rattling breath. You were able to get a good look at him as you sat back on your heels; he was flushed the prettiest shade of pink, the rich color spreading from his freckled face all the way down to his equally freckled chest. His soft lips were swollen red from his teeth worrying them non-stop, and his hair was mussed into a shaggy mess atop his head.

Best of all was the reverent way Sebastian gazed down at you through his slightly crooked glasses, and Merlin’s beard– you doubted you would ever get enough of his face. Not in a thousand years.

You dragged your palms over the exposed bit of his thighs, relishing in the shivers the action pulled from him. Sebastian squirmed against the wall, removing one of his hands from your hair to adjust his lopsided frames, and there was no way he missed the way your eyes seemed to follow the action. “Why are you staring like that?”

“I already told you,” you muttered up at him, languidly stroking his cock to replace the warmth from your mouth. Sebastian shuddered at the feeling, his eyes rolling shut, and you abandoned your one-sided staring contest to place a wet, lingering kiss to the swollen tip of his length. Given the intensity of the drawn out moan Sebastian let loose, you rewarded the sound with another chaste press of your lips before adding, “You look good today.”

“Is it– hah–” You cut him off with a sudden jerk of your hand, and as you twisted your hand around the head of his cock, his head fell back against the wall pitifully. “Gods– is it your fucking glasses kink again?”

You only pursed your lips and squinted up at him, but Sebastian knew he was right. He had the audacity to look smug about it too, adjusting his glasses slightly and grinning down at you, so rather than reply, you opted to wrap your mouth around him again and returned to your original task.

As you moved, you focused intently on tracing the thick veins along his shaft with your tongue, committing every stuttered breath and tiny groan to memory. What you didn’t brazenly stuff in your mouth, you stroked instead, your fingers pressing and urging Sebastian closer to the edge of bliss. He grit his teeth together to fend off his looming release when he felt your hand scratch thin, light stripes down his hip, the stinging pleasure making his stomach tense as shivers danced down his spine.

The distinct sound of the gates to the Restricted Section rattling filtered down the corridor behind you, and you pulled off of him to listen closely. Sebastian froze against the wall, the panicked look on his face quickly overshadowed by keen interest, and you knew he had to be excited at the prospect of getting caught. You heard the faint clacking of someone’s heels against the stone floor upstairs, but eventually the footsteps faded, and you waited a full minute before you tore your eyes away from the dark stairwell to glance up at Sebastian.

He was already watching you with rapt intrigue; his face was flushed incredibly dark, lips parted around the soft breaths he took, and you could have sworn there was a bit of drool on his chin. Those enticing dark eyes of his were wet with pleasure behind his glasses, and as much as you loved messing with Sebastian, there was no way you could tease him for long when he looked this good.

You’d spent the better part of an hour eye-fucking him already. To say you were getting impatient was an understatement.

“I want to ride you,” you stated plainly from your kneeled position on the floor, and Sebastian nearly passed the fuck out from how hot the whole display was. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he wheezed out, reaching for you at the same time you began to rise to your full height. His hands gripped at the fabric of your blouse to haul you against him for a brutal kiss, swallowing your surprised yelp and delving his tongue into your mouth as he wound his fingers through your hair. He could still taste himself on your lips, and the rush he was getting from fooling around down here with you made the tension in his gut damn near unbearable.

You allowed Sebastian his fill of kisses, finding it all too easy to get lost in the feeling of his lips trailing along your jaw, then down your clammy throat. He nipped at your pulse once, twice, before sinking his teeth into your skin and soothing over the bite with his tongue. Despite your concerns about being caught, you moaned in earnest at the sting, digging your blunt nails into Sebastian’s shoulders in a bid to hold yourself upright.

His hold around you was suffocating, and in the end it was you who broke the kiss to fix your hungry gaze on him. “Sometime today would be nice, Sallow.”

As you pulled away from your boyfriend, your thigh ever so gently grazed over his cock, and the abrupt friction pulled a drawn out moan of your name from Sebastian’s throat. You made your way to the corner of the room where a small armchair and side-table were situated. With deft fingers, you began undoing the buttons of your own shirt as Sebastian hurriedly kicked his trousers down the remainder of the way before practically leaping into the seat, and you laughed at the bold way he got comfortable to watch you strip.

Sebastian’s eyes roved over your bare form as you removed more and more of your clothing, until all that was left was your undergarments. You flushed from the ferocity of his stare, but your need for him far outweighed your shyness, and your eyes never wavered from his as you slipped the thin, soaked cotton down your legs and kicked it aside.

With the grace of a dancer, you braced an arm on the back of the chair and lowered yourself into Sebastian’s lap, adoring the way his achingly hard length rubbed between your slick folds as you leaned forward to kiss him again. Sebastian’s hands flew to your hips to follow their steady rocking– groaning fervently against your lips as he fought the urge to hold you still and slam into you all at once.

This was a Merlin-sent gift. To see you so desperate and turned on, your eyes glazed over with lust and your demanding hands pulling him after you— his cock had been standing at attention from the moment you whispered your suggestion of a ‘break’ with that tell-tale voice of yours.

You broke away to breathe and tipped your forehead against Sebastian’s, and he took the opportunity to murmur under his breath, “Maybe I should wear these bloody things more often.”

“Maybe you should,” you agreed all too quickly.

Sebastian chuckled softly, affectionately brushing a few strands of hair out of your face before trailing his fingertips down your shoulder. “For you, I just might. I’m reluctant to soil my image so close to graduation, though.”

Laughing under your breath, you slipped your hand down Sebastian’s taut stomach, drawing shivers and light tremors from him as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. He shuddered at the contact, narrowing his eyes in anticipation as a bolt of heat pierced through him. You couldn’t fight the utterly devilish smile that stretched across your face, all too pleased with how blatantly infatuated Sebastian was by you, and you gave him a firm, teasing stroke that pulled a whine from his clenched teeth.

You leaned in closer to trace your tongue along the shell of his ear, playfully nibbling the lobe for a moment before all but purring against his temple, “I promise you, you’re not soiling a thing by wearing them. I happen to think you look rather dashing.”

Sebastian’s breathing hitched in his chest as you pulled back, and his eyelashes fluttered a little as you rose up on your knees to angle the head of his cock against your entrance. His fingertips dug into the skin of your waist as you started to sink down lower, and the feeling of the thick tip breaching your walls was enough to leave you gasping Sebastian’s name into the open air.

It took a bit of readjusting in the armchair to fully seat yourself on his cock, but once you had, the fullness that met you was tantamount to perfection. Your eyes rolled shut for a moment as a wave of pleasure shot through you, and you sighed loudly, the sound mixing with Sebastian’s keening moan as you rocked your hips down against his pelvis to garner more friction. “Merlin– that feels amazing, darling– you look so good, you have no idea.”

When you cracked your eyes open again, you were pleased to discover Sebastian watching you hungrily through the dark frames, his head tipped back against the seat in blatant satisfaction. The look he fixed you with imbued you with newfound vigor, and you possessively buried your hands in his shaggy hair to grip him tight as you brought yourself up on your knees. His cock stayed sheathed in your tight heat until only the tip remained, and his lips parted around an airy moan at the same time you began to torturously slide home once more.

Sebastian fully surrendered to your influence, allowing you to take the reins and set the pace from on top while he met your movements with tiny thrusts, keeping his eyes trained on your flushed face the entire time you got settled. You looked fantastic spread across him like this, rocking down onto him and leaving him twitching inside you at the feeling. The sharp bite of your nails against his scalp harmonized beautifully with his bruising grip on your hips, and you finally let a needy sound slip past your lips when Sebastian began kneading at the shapely swell of your ass.

The angle was impressively good, the precariousness of your position adding to the steadily mounting pressure in your gut. Your nerves were on fire after a few shaky passes– your achingly warm walls squeezing around Sebastian’s cock from the adrenaline of your predicament– and it wasn’t long before you were riding him in short, deep thrusts and whimpering for him, every muscle in your body tight and shaking. His length jammed against your sweet spot in a way you had never felt before– thick and hot inside of you– and you couldn’t help but whine for Sebastian as you sped up and shifted your feet so you could drop lower on to his cock.

“Fuck–” Your name tumbled from Sebastian’s lips suddenly, his hands slipping away from your rear to hold your hips stable on top of him as he murmured huskily, “Does it feel good, darling?”

Your mind was fucking reeling from the never-ending slew of sensations that ran through your trembling body, so all you could manage in the heat of the moment was a shaky nod. Something about the way you were essentially massaging your sweet spot with the head of Sebastian’s cock left you dripping onto his lap, and he took your silence as his cue to thrust up deeper into your pulsing heat. Your shrill voice filled the room as you cried out, the threat of being caught momentarily forgotten, and you arched into Sebastian’s chest as you were left boneless and shivering in his strong arms.

“S-Sebastian, shit, I can’t–”

One of your hands flew from Sebastian’s messy hair to clamp down over your mouth– your eyes pinching shut as he dug his fingers into your hips and used what leverage he could find to pound his cock up into you. The force of it had your legs quaking on either side of him, the rough, fast, thrusts reducing you to a mewling, keening mess, and Sebastian reached up to tug your hand away from your face so he could steal your lips in a brazen kiss.

All too easily, you melted against him. Sebastian’s tongue was demanding as it tangled with your own, swallowing every brainless whimper you let slip and pressing you tighter to him. The weight of your body settling on his balls drew a sharp gasp from him– your legs officially giving out under you as the muscles in your thighs burned from exertion.

You tried one more time to raise yourself up, only to fail miserably, the violent tremors that wracked your lower half reverberating against Sebastian in a way that made him fucking ravenous with need. “It’s alright, love. Hold onto me,” he instructed, and you obediently wound your arms around his neck.

Sebastian held you flush to his chest as he sat forward, standing up swiftly before turning the two of you over so that you were now the one sitting in the armchair. There was a lapse in movement as you got situated, Sebastian’s hands assertively moving you around until your legs had been thrown over his shoulders and you were bent effectively in half. His cock had stayed sheathed in you the entire time, but once he started moving again, the sensation of being filled amplified tenfold now that you were folded in on yourself.

Mercifully, Sebastian didn’t wait long to resume his thrusting again, working back up to his rough, unrelenting pace, pulling your hips around until he was hitting that magic spot deep within you with every pass of his thick cock.

“Fuck–” you gasped, your nails clawing blindly at Sebastian’s hands on your waist as you writhed back against his aggressive tempo. “More. Please Sebastian, harder.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Everything next happened all at once. Sebastian gingerly trailed a hand up one of your legs, pressing a wet kiss against the side of your knee when his fingers grazed the sensitive area. He slipped off his glasses to deftly perch the frames on your nose, and you blinked blearily up at him. You barely found the time to process the change in your vision before Sebastian knocked your knees apart so they were spread further atop his shoulders. Then he railed his cock into you, holding you still with bruising strength while you shivered and cried out under him.

Sebastian choked on a groan at the mere sight of you. Maybe things were a little fuzzy without his glasses on, but he could plainly see how absolutely wrecked you looked. Your hands were fitfully grabbing at the upholstery of the chair as your elbows pushed you up in vain attempts to arch into his unforgiving rhythm. The bright flush across your face spread to your neck and chest as your breath came in shorter, faster gasps, and you angled your head to the side in a bid to bury your shameless noises into your shoulder.

That wouldn’t do. Not after all your bold-faced teasing and staring earlier.

He dug his nails into your hips and bucked harder, taking one of his hands from your waist to wind his fingers through your disheveled hair. You were forced to look at Sebastian as he tugged your head upright, heat erupting in your core as he greedily drank in the fucked-out sight of you.

“Merlin, just look at you. Is this what you wanted?” He punctuated the question with a particularly rough snap of his hips, and his cock brushed deliciously against the mind-numbing spot deep inside of you. You moaned unabashedly, and Sebastian grinned wickedly, leaning down to frantically bite at your lips while he chased his impending finish. “You’re doing so good, darling. Watching you ride me like that– you looked so fucking perfect, all of you.”

Gods, you were losing yourself. Everything felt overwhelmingly sublime; Sebastian’s hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped you so hard, you were certain it would leave crescent shaped nail marks on your hip. His sharp teeth nipped at your bottom lip, and you found yourself trying to follow his face as he pulled back to speed up his pumping.

Your stomach was rolling over on itself with pleasure, your climax wrought tight like a wire in your gut, and you didn’t think you’d ever wanted to come so bad in your life. Sebastian just drank in every detail of your contorted body beneath him, watching how his thick cock looked fucking nailing your tight cunt– pulling out almost entirely before he would stuff you full again. Between that, your growing sounds, and the new addition of his glasses on your face, Sebastian was teetering on the brink of insanity. He was so close, but he wanted to get you there before himself, so he released your leg to roughly plant his thumb over your clit, rubbing titillating circles over the swollen nub until you were practically sobbing in ecstasy.

Just as it started to look like you were going to pass out, your breathless noises grew louder until you were wailing Sebastian’s name, wriggling and rutting your hips back as you begged mindlessly for him to keep going. He jerked your head to the side again, his glasses slipping down your nose so that your foggy, half-hooded eyes were peering up at him over the frames, and that was as much as he could take.

Everything started to blur together in frantic, insistent waves, your moans growing louder and your toes curling harder, and when Sebastian let out a broken, mind-blown gasp of your name and ground into you roughly, that tight wire in your gut finally snapped.

You came with stars dancing in your eyes, your ears ringing and damn near every muscle in your body tensing as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Sebastian felt you go rigid for all of a second before you relaxed into a twitching, moaning mess against him, and the way your slick heat constricted and pulsed around him was enough to send him spiraling over the edge with you.

Sebastian’s pace faltered, a shaky groan ripping from his throat as he gave you a few deep, grinding thrusts, slamming unevenly into you as he curled over to nestle his head in the crook of your neck. He mouthed blindly at your collarbone, and you felt the brunet’s cock twitch inside of you as he emptied his load deep in your walls, the minute feeling dragging airy whimpers from your lips.

It took you both a while to come off the euphoric high, your bodies all too content to float forever on those waves of pure rapture. But once Sebastian had and he was lifting himself off of you, you cracked your eyes open to find him grinning down at you, a goofy sort of tenderness reflecting in his eyes. He was still catching his breath, but he immediately took to running his broad hands over the plane of your stomach, soothing away any lingering tension and murmuring quiet ‘I love you’s down at you.

Your brain steadily returned to Earth and your hands joined Sebastian’s, lacing your fingers together as you sighed contentedly.

“You’re a fucking work of art,” he murmured with that low-timbred, raspy voice that had you swallowing around a lump in your throat. “You’re absolutely amazing, you know that, right?”

He bent over you to lovingly kiss away any unintelligible replies you would likely muster, smoothing your hair out of your face before he let his cock slide free from your sensitive walls. The hollow ache was apparent, and you instantly missed having him sheathed in you so deeply. Ever the chivalrous boyfriend, Sebastian sat you up in the armchair and gently slipped his lopsided glasses off of your face.

Oh. You’d almost forgotten he put those on you.

“I think I’m beginning to understand what you meant about these now,” he practically mused down at you with a cheshire-like smile. “You looked really hot getting fucked with them on.”

Your voice returned to you then in the form of a sharp bark of laughter that echoed off the walls of the small room, and you shook your head in disbelief at the naked man, who was now collecting your scattered clothing off of the floor. “This wasn’t what I meant in the slightest, but it was certainly an added bonus, I’ll admit.”

Sebastian passed you your jumbled up uniform with a coy smirk playing on his face, and you took the pile of fabric from him with a questioning expression. “You really expect me to believe that at no point did you consider something like this happening? I only felt your eyes on me the entire time we were upstairs studying– you’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

Caught red handed, you stammered for a moment in a feeble attempt to come up with a retort– to deny having secretly wanted this exact scenario to play out from the moment Sebastian started wearing glasses. You failed— your ability to formulate words vanishing conveniently the one moment you needed it the most, and Sebastian looked far too pleased with himself for your liking.

Pouting rather immaturely, you started redressing yourself in the armchair and begrudgingly muttered, “It didn’t play out exactly as I thought… I thought I could stay on top longer. I think I need to start exercising more– my legs were jelly after two minutes.”

“Well I think you outdid yourself. That chair was rather small to begin with–”

A shrill, grating, all too familiar voice bounced down the dark corridor leading up the steps, silencing you both in an instant as your heart began hammering in your chest. “My oh my, what’s this I see?” Peeves descended through the ceiling, the sight of his obnoxious blue hat making your stomach churn with anxiety. “Sebastian Sallow and his lady friend somewhere they shouldn’t be.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You realized dimly that the Poltergeist was getting one hell of a free show a little too late, and you threw your skirt up to cover your exposed breasts as you flushed a brilliant shade of red. Sebastian’s expression contorted into one of anger, and he boldly squared his shoulders at the self-proclaimed tattletale of Hogwarts. “Peeves, I swear on Merlin’s name I’ll blast you with every spell I know until one hits if you don’t get the hell out of here now.”

Peeves threw his hands up in mock surrender, but the troublesome glint in his corporeal eyes told you exactly what the ghost would never outright say. You were fucked. “Sebastian Sallow threatens Peeves with a hex, when all Peeves did was catch him having sex. Perhaps Professor Black should be made aware… naughty children, tampering with the locks, just to come down here and play with his co–”

“Oh bugger off you damned poltergeist! We’ll take the detentions, just shut the hell up and get out of here!”

Peeve’s rancorous laughter reverberated off the stone walls, making your hair stand on end in anticipatory dread as he did a handful of flips midair, then shot through the ceiling. His distant taunts of “I’m going to tell, I’m going to tell,” had you and Sebastian frozen in place for a long, heavy moment. Then he turned to look at you, his eyes now dark and swirling with anger behind his glasses, and his chest heaved visibly as he sucked in a deep, calming breath.

It didn’t look like it calmed him down very much, though.

“I don’t know what I’m more pissed about,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “The weeks worth of detentions we just bought ourselves, or the fact that Peeves saw you naked.” The hand not holding his clothes curled into a fist at his side, and the muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’m leaning more towards the latter.”

You almost wanted to laugh. Almost. Instead, you dressed yourself alongside Sebastian in tense silence, doing your best to psych yourself up for the brutal scolding you knew you were bound to receive from Professor Weasley. This was likely not what she’d had in mind when she told you to focus on your studies with Sebastian.

You silently cursed the damned poltergeist. You also cursed Sebastian’s stupid, sexy glasses, just for extra measure.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female! reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #my writing #sebastian in glasses smut because I'm depraved #sebastian sallow oneshot #once again posting my sin in the dead of night #drop and go

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 5 months

Text

Penance

Astarion x Y/N x Abdirak - oneshot - 3.8K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, Bondage, Spanking, Riding Crop, Inappropriate use of a mace hilt, Degradation (slut, whore, etc). Dirty talk, Spit, Edging, Blood, Mean Dom/Soft Dom, THREESOME, Aftercare (duh), Yeah, they talk you through it. Absolute depravity, you're gonna need to go to church after this one. You’re responsible for your own browser history.

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“You bore that pain like a true believer dear one, Loviatar herself could not have done better.” Said Abdirak, his head tilted back and little pants of air leaving his mouth.

Erotic, you thought. Not knowing pain could feel so good. Your eyes met Astarion’s, he looked far away. The only prominent thing about him in this moment was the straining hard on. Oh. The thought of him enjoying seeing you squirm sent a jolt between your legs. Rightly or wrongly, thoughts crossed your mind. Impure, heinous thoughts of what it would be like to have them both. Abdirak and Astarion.

Astarion shut the chamber door, causing your head to whip to him. His eyes were dark, full of lust. It almost scared you, he was stalking towards you like you were prey to be devoured. Glancing over your shoulder you saw Abdirak pushing towards you as well, with a painfully obvious strain in his pants.

“There is only one god, little love…” Astarion said as he gripped your face. You lowered yourself to your knees, keeping your eyes on him always. “So good for me… for your god…” he said as he traced your jawline, looking over you with hungry eyes.

Your hand reached for Astarion’s belt before Abdirak’s hand caught your wrist. “Use them.” He told Astarion, “Allow me to alleviate you both.”

Astarion’s eyes held a wicked gleam, “Are you alright with that love? With both of us?” He asked, both of them looking at you waiting for your consent to move even an inch further.

“Avavaen, eath'she” you replied nodding, knowing that when you spoke Elvish it drove Astarion mad. He pulled you closer to him by your throat. You whined as you strained against Abdirak’s grip. He held your hands together behind your back with his much larger hand.

“I can’t wait to see the way you work…” Abdirak whispered in your ear before nipping your neck.

Astarion’s cock stood proud against his stomach, you licked your lips as he guided it towards you. He indulged himself and his most carnal desires. He drew your head in and out at an impossible speed but you were determined to be good. Your gags and chokes egging him on. Tears flowed from your eyes as you took him.

Abdirak licked up a tear, shuddering. “Magnificent.” He mumbled, keeping your hands in place as your struggled against him. He led his free hand up your shirt, tugging and rolling your nipples while his tongue and teeth made work of your neck. Your moans only pushing Astarion closer to the edge. Right when Abdirak pressed his hand to your clothed crotch, Astarion shuddered. His seed coating your throat as you moaned around him.

“So pretty for me…” he gasped as you kitten licked his tip.

Your head was pulled back by your hair, you groaned as the tears of pleasure kept flowing. “You are so delicious…” whispered Abdirak. His hand fists in your hair, roughly pulling your back flush with his chest. You groan, arching to try and relieve the twinge of pain from your scalp. “Tell me dear one, as beautiful of a performance as that was, did you really think your penance would end with a few hits?” Abdirak murmurs, tugging your head back for emphasis.

Astarion hummed as he closed the gap between you, his gaze utterly predatory. His head dipped down, as if to kiss you, but his lips stopped just before meeting yours. You whine, straining to close the gap. Abdirak laughs cruelly, jerking your head back and slapping your ass as he released your hands..

“Now pet, when did we say you could move?” Astarion teased as he stood back up to his full height. His hands reach out to swipe a tear off your cheek, trailing down to stop at your lips. They ghost over your lips, dipping in to lightly stroke your tongue. “Suck.”

You suck his fingers, drifting your tongue across them and giving them the same attention you gave his cock just moments ago. Lifting your gaze, you gently nibble the tip of his fingers. Astarion’s calm exterior remains, but his eyes twinkle in amusement. “Abdirak, forgive me, but did I say to use teeth?” Astarion smirked.

You couldn’t see the priest, but you could feel the rumble of his laugh as he responded. “This little one seems to be just begging for punishment,” Abdirak says as he punctuates the statement with another slap on your ass.

Astarion gently pulls his fingers from your lips, trailing your spit down your chin before roughly grabbing your jaw and wrenching your mouth open with his thumb. You whine, drool dripping from your lips as Astarion spits in your mouth. “Hold it there. Don’t you dare swallow. You’ve disobeyed enough today.” You moan, unable to respond with the teasing comeback.

“Sweet thing has been spoiled far too much,” Abdirak all but purrs, “she’s clearly forgotten her manners.”

“Abdirak, be a dear and make y/n more comfortable. She seems far too warm in all those clothes.” Astarion orders, his gaze never leaving yours.

“With pleasure.”

The priest releases his grip on your hair, his hands sliding to your chest to fumble with the ties of your shirt. Growling in frustration, Abdirak grabs a knife from his table to cut the shirt from your body. Your breath hitches as the blade tears through the fabric. Abdirak makes short work of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Grabbing a leather strap, he quickly ties your hands behind your back.

While Abdirak works, Astarion fucks your mouth with his other hand. The fingers roughly moving in and out. You groan as you feel the mixture if his and your spit run down your chin. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, “taking it like such a good fucking slut.” You whine in response as he continues to degrade you. “My perfect little slut. You would get on your knees in camp and worship my cock in front of our entire party if it meant getting just a taste of my cum. Wouldn’t you?”

A beat passes, but you’re unable to respond as his fingers plunder your mouth. Abdirak, finished with his task, roughly grabs your throat from behind. “Answer him,” he orders, spanking your pussy.

You squirm in their drip, but another swift smack on your mound halts your movement.

“Well pet?” Astarion grins. “Yes sir-” You attempt to answer. With his fingers nearly prodding your throat, it comes out a messy gurgle. Astaration chuckles and he pulls his hands from your mouth.

“Swallow now pet, you’ve earned it,” Astarion purrs.You silently thank him as you swallow. His gaze shifts behind you, to Abdirak. “Come on priest, you said you would alleviate us. What would you have our darling little whore do?”

Abdirak motions for Astarion to sit on a nearby bench. “I think if she wants any chance of coming, she needs to earn it.” His attention drifts to you, “show me how bad you want it dear one. Ride his thigh.”

Astarion shifts to make room for you as you scramble to fulfill the priest’s request. You moan as your pussy makes contact, the friction heavenly. Astarion’s hands shift to your hips, guiding you as your buck against him.

Abdirak moves to his desk, and you can hear him moving things around as he looks for something. Your head turns to see, but Astarion swiftly slaps your thigh. “None of that. Eyes on me. The priest was kind enough to let you rub your cunt on my thigh after your pathetic attempt to follow instructions earlier. The least you can do is give us a good show.”

You groan at the filthy words, the only think that could rival your lover’s prowess on the battlefield was his dirty mouth. Grinding down faster, you feel your release building. Right before you have the chance to cum, Abdirak jerks you from Astarion’s lap. You whine, having no idea how he knew you were close.

“What the fuck?” You hiss at him. “I was so close-”

“She’s got quite the mouth on her.” Abdirak says to Astarion without so much as a glance towards you.

You whip around to face Abdirak, “that’s not fair! I was so close. You said I could cum!”

Abdirak laughed, “No manners and now you can’t listen. I said you could show me how bad you needed it. You’re not quite down earning it.” His drifts down, slipping into your underwear and dipping two fingers inside you. Your head drops back as a moan escapes you. Abdirak pulls his fingers out, pausing to rub some of your wetness into your clit.

“Please,” you whimper. Abdirak drops his head to nip your neck.

“Now you’re getting it,” he praises, rewarding you with slightly harder pressure against your clit. He retreats his hand and tweaks your nipple harshly before stepping back to reveal the riding crop he picked up from his table. “We are going to play a little game and give you a chance to earn that orgasm.”

“And here I thought we were going to deny this disobedient little slut until she was begging for it,” Astarion teases from his spot on the bench. His demeanor is relaxed, but you can feel him reach out psychically through the tadpole to check in. What’s your color, pet?

Green, but I’m going to get you back later for edging me.

I’m sure you will. You can hear the smirk in his words.

“Oh she’ll be begging,” Abdirak smirks.

“What do I have to do?” you ask.

“Simple, all you need to do is count to twenty. Nothing difficult.”

You eye the priest suspiciously, “What’s the catch.”

“No catch, dear one. But, if you forget or make a mistake, we are restarting.” Abdirak guides you back to where Astarion sat, bending you over. You blush, seeing that you had left a wet spot on Astarion’s thigh.

As if sensing your thoughts, Astarion guides your head to it. “Tongue out, clean your mess pet.” You groan, lapping your juices from his thigh. He hums in contentment as you finish.

Abdirak kneels behind you.”Not the only mess you’ve made,” he says, running his fingers across your drenched panties. “Such a dirty little slut. We give you a chance to remedy your actions, but here you are. On your knees, with soaked panties, begging for more.” He roughly tugged your panties off, tossing them to Astarion.

Your lover caught them, smirking as an utterly filthy idea came over him. Using two fingers, he pushes the wet fabric into your mouth. “Come on, pet. Suck them clean.”

Your eyes flutter when you hear Astarion’s breathe hitch at the sight of you dutifully cleaning them. A snap against your ass jerks you from the task you were so absorbed in. Abdirak had struck your ass with the riding crop.

The sting faded as Abdirak fisted your hair and pulled you off of Astarion’s fingers. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“One,” you whine.

“Such a good little pain slut,” Abdirak murmurs, dropping your hair. He delivers another swift hit onto your other ass cheek and you choke out the count.

“Now pet, we both know you can multitask,” Astarion tuts. “Finish.” You return to your task as Abdirak smacks the crop onto you again. You gag out the third count from around Astarion’s fingers.

The two fall into a rhythm as Abdirak warms your ass with the crop and you continue to count. Astarion adding a swift slap to your ass whenever you neglected your task. The initial sting had begun to build as the count increased and you could feel your pussy drip down your thighs as you squirmed to get any friction.

Abdirak, noticing your pitiful attempts, delivered a hit right on cunt. “None of that.”

You cry out in shock more than pain. You blink away a tear, and notice that Astarion is looking down, expectantly.

“My dumb little slut,” Astarion coos. “Couldn’t even count to twenty.” He pulls the panties from your mouth, tucking them into his breast pocket.

“It’s not her fault,” Abdirak answers. “Poor thing simply can’t focus on anything but that greedy little pussy.”

“Maybe you should do something about that,” you moan. Silently begging for them to give up this stupid little game and just fuck you already.

Abdirak pulls you back a bit, pushing your head down to the floor. “Ass up.”

Your arms slightly ache from being bound behind your back, but the burn just adds to your arousal. Astarion gets up from his spot, shucking the remainder of his clothes. You shiver in excitement as you feel him nudge your legs further apart with his feet. Astarion fucks two, then three fingers into you, prepping you for what’s to come.

“Finally gonna give up this manners bullshit and just fuck me already?” You tease.

“Something like that,” Astarion laughs, and you can hear a shift as Abdirak hands him something. You arch your back as you feel something prod at your entrance. The cool metal wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. You moan at the intrusion as Astarion fucks the object into you.

“What th-”

“My mace,” Abdirak supplies. “You haven’t quite earned a cock yet, so you’ll be taking the hilt of my mace while we finish your punishment.” Abdirak finishes his sentence with a smack to your now tender ass cheek. He had clearly abandoned the riding crop for a more hands on approach.

Astarion gently fucks the handle of Abdiraks mace into you, dipping his other hand down to rub your clit in swift circles. “Come on pet, you can take it.”

You moan, your breath coming out in pants as you whimper out the count. “One.”

“There’s my girl.” Astarion purrs, rewarding you with a harder circle over your clit.

The two continue their game, Abdirak delivering harsh slaps to your ass and thighs and Astarion rewarding you after every count. You struggle to focus on the count as you feel your orgasm slowly build again. It’s all so much. The stimulation was coming from all sides. Your pussy was full and the drag of the hilt against your walls was delicious. Astarion’s ministrations on your clit were steady and practiced. Abdirak’s slaps on your ass caused you to jerks forward slightly on every hit. The rough ground adding to everything.

“What number was that?” Abdirak asked after his last hit. You wracked your brain for the answer. You had been focused so hard on the building orgasm, but Astarion stilled his motion on your clit so you could answer. “Twelve?” You guess breathlessly.

“Again?” Abdirak chides. “This is the second time you’ve lost count.”

“Poor thing,” Astarion mocks, “given a second chance and all she can do with it is drool on the floor and moan like a dumb little slut.”

You desperately try to find something, anything to say in your defense but you don’t have a chance. Astarion resumes fucking the hilt into you and doubles down his efforts on your clit as Abdirak rains down slaps onto your ass.

“Please, please, plea-” you beg them, your legs shaking and your fingers uselessly dangling behind your back.

“You got yourself into this mess, dear one. Take it,” Abdirak orders.

“Hold it,” Astarion growls. “Don’t you dare fucking come yet.”

You whine, begging for him to relent and just let you come.

“Please, sir I’m so clo-”

“No,” he punctuates with a slap on your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head and you tremble as you fall over the edge. Your pussy flutters around the mace’s hilt as Astarion fucks you through your orgasm.

You nearly black out from the force of it, and when you blink your eyes open you can feel Abdirak gently cut the ties from wrists as Astarion pulls the hilt from your pussy and tosses the mace to the side.

“You did so good for us, baby,” Astarion murmurs as he stands and picks you up and places you on the table. You hiss as your ass makes contact with the cool surface.

“But I didn’t do what you said,” you say softly. “I came when I wasn’t supposed to and I-”

Abdirak chuckles and slides beside Astarion to give you a kiss. “You were exquisite, my dear. Moaning and writhing beneath us so beautifully. You were never going to win our game.”

“Now, I think our darling pet has earned herself a reward,” Astarion purred. Abdirak nodded in agreement and walked away to take a seat on the same bench Astarion was in earlier. “You’re not joining?” Astarion asked.

“I’m enjoying the view,” Abdirak answered as he pulled his cock out, stroking it lightly.

Astarion grins, turning back to you. “Color?”

You pull him in for a quick kiss before answering. “Green. Now get to it.” “Yes ma’am,” Astarion replies as he pushes you flat onto the table and pulls your leg up from under your knee. Sliding his cock slowly into you, Astarion moves your leg to rest on his shoulder. He turns his head to press a kiss into the skin before nipping it.

“Astarion,” you whine as you move your hips to meet his.

“Such a needy little thing,” Abdirak chuckles. “Give her what she wants.”

You turn your head to look at the priest and go to offer a retort, but you’re cut off as Astarion thrusts deep. You moan as Astarion sets a slow pace. He fucks you lazily, trailing his hand down to press on your lower stomach. Abdirak fists his cock at the same pace, watching you and your lover intently.

Astarion’s curls bounce as he thrusts into you, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching up to run your fingers through his hair and gently tug the strands.

A hand reaches out to tug your nipple and you let out a moan. Looking over, you see that Abdirak has abandoned his bench to get a closer view. Not wanting the priest left out, you try to reach a hand over to stroke him but he repositions you down to your clit. “Come on, dear one. Rub your greedy little clit like I know you want to.”

You groan as you follow his instructions. “That’s it, pet” Astarion purrs. “Just like that.”

“Keep going. You’re so good for us.” Abdirak continues to pinch your nipples and roughly pluck them. He dips down to take one into his mouth, gently biting it before lapping his tongue across it.

“Fuck,” Astarion moans. “You’re doing so good.” His pace picks up, and it’s clear he’s getting close. “Come on baby, I can feel you clenching around me, I know you’re almost there.” He pants as he turns to bite your calf. He moans, drinking deeply from your leg as he climaxes.

You whine as you cum again, circling your clit and working yourself through it. Abdirak, gently rolled your nipple in his fingers as he watched the two of you come undone.

Astarion pulls out, kneeling down to watch his cum drip from your cunt. “Beautiful,” he murmurs as he lifts his hand to your center. Your breathe hitches and you moan as he runs his fingers through the mess and presses them inside you, fucking his cum back into you.

Astarion stands up, helping you stand up. “Poor pet,” Astarion teases, “think you can take another for me?” You nod and he moves behind you and picks you up. Your back is braced against his chest as he grips underneath your knees to hold your legs open, exposing your soaked cunt to the cool air.

“What are you-” “Now priest,” Astarion’s chest rumbles as he speaks, “why don’t you give this little sinner some divine penance.”

Abdirak stalks forward, fisting his cock as he takes in the view. You whine as he slides his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your cheeks flush as you hear the squelch of him fucking Astarion’s cum deeper into you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Abdirak hits a particularly sensitive spot. “None of that, pet.” Astarion grunts. “Open your fucking eyes and look at him.”

“She’s positively sinful,” Abdirak moans. “Fuck, just look at how well she’s taking me.”

You glance down to where you’re connected and whimper as you see his cock slide in and out. Both your and Astarion’s mixed juices are coating his cock, making a mess of both of you.

“Harder,” Astarion hisses. Abdirak speeds up, fucking you deeper and you moan in response. “Oh that’s it,” your lover groans. “Gods you’re taking it so well, pet. You’re probably so ready to cum, but I need you to hold it just a little bit longer.”

Abdirak catpures your mouth in a searing kiss as he continues to fuck into you, breaking apart to look down to watch where you’re connected. Moaning, you try to reach down and get some friction on your clit.

Abdirak bats your hand away and works tight circles onto your clit with his thumb as he fucks up into you.

“Please Astarion,” you whimper. “Please let me cum, I don’t know how much longer I ca-”

“Cum for us.” Your eyes roll back and you give into the feeling of your building orgasm. As your orgasm wracks your body, Abdirak groans and thrusts up into you faster, finishing shortly after.

Astarion gently pulls you from Abdirak’s grip and lays you back down on the table before diving his head between your thighs. You whimper in oversensitivity, squirming underneath his practiced tongue.

“Come on dear one,” Abdirak encourages, “one more. You’ve got one more in you.”

You moan and cry as Astarion sucks your clit hard before lapping over it. His hand presses onto your lower stomach, stopping your movement as he moves his other hand up to fuck into your tender cunt.

“One more. You’re almost done, come on dear one.”

You scream as the last orgasm rips through your body and you writhe in Astarion’s hold.

“That’s it sweetheart,” Astarion says as he stands up. “You did so good for us.”

He lifts you from the table and sits on the floor, cradling you in his arms. He rubs your back, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

Abdirak joins the two of you, placing gentle kisses into your skin. “You were so perfect, dear one.”

Your breathing slows and returns to normal.

“Pet,” Astarion murmurs, “are you with us once more?” You nod, nuzzling into his neck. You feel his chuckle rumble in his chest. “We wore you out, didn’t we?”

He kisses your head, combing his fingers through your hair. “Don’t fall asleep yet darling. I’m gonna clean you up and get you a well deserved snack.”

“Thank you both for that wonderful performance,” Abdirak said. “Dare I say it was inspiring.”

“Inspiring indeed.” Astarion murmurs as he stares at you in awe. Abdirak watches the scene before him. The tenderness wasn’t lost on him.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Astarion’s fingers pause in your hair as he answers, “You have no idea.”

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Naboo's Note:

I need professional help after this one. BUT - I hope you all enjoy because I really just went ham on this. Wanted to start 2024 off with a bang and by golly did I ever. Did not proof read, was possessed while writing - too lazy now. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! ILYSM <3 !!!

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Partners in Crime

Pairing: Mob!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: A night out with one of your father's most trusted associates puts you on a new and dangerous path. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Implied e/xplicit s/exual content, d/runk s/ex (con-sensual), d/rinking, talk of v/iolence, p/ossessive behavior, possible soft!dark vibes if you squint, engagement, not-so-great dad, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Nick edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: Welcome to my Wicked Arrangements AU! For @the-slumberparty 's April Writing Challenge (prompt in bold italics) and we'll see a few other characters down the road. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby and pre-read by @slyyywriting , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thought that entered your mind when you woke up was that you were never drinking whiskey again. You couldn't even remember how much you had, but you weren’t going to bounce back immediately from this hangover. You tried to avoid getting drunk whenever you could. At least it wasn't at your dad's party.

Not that you stuck around for most of it anyway.

Nick Fowler, one of the most powerful men in the city and your dad's most trusted associate, was waiting by your car when you left.

"Why don't we have a real party?

A man as ruthless and dangerous as he is beautiful, there was a reason why so many wanted him on their side. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty or the kind of man to cross. Though he didn't say much to you with your dad around, it didn't stop him from eye fucking you every chance he had.

It was only natural that you wanted him.

"Sure. I could use a distraction."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'll give you much more than that."

With a groan, you cracked one eye open and then the other. The pounding headache made it difficult to see as you tried to blink away the spots in your vision. If you had to choose an equivalent to what your throat felt like, sandpaper would be the closest. At least you didn't get sick. The bed you laid in was also comfortable and the sheets kept your naked body warm enough.

You forgot about the pain in your head as the ache between your legs grabbed your attention.

Oh, yeah. That happened.

Closing your eyes, a blurred vision of tangled limbs surfaced, the blue eyes of Nick piercing through the fog.

“Knew you’d take my cock like a good girl.”

And you did over and over.

Doing your best not to move too fast, you carefully turned your head and opened your eyes again. You expected to see him sleeping beside you, but he wasn’t there. Gently touching the spot, you noticed it still had a bit of warmth. Maybe he went to the bathroom or decided to get breakfast.

It took a moment to register that something sparkled on your left hand as sunlight peeked in through the curtain. “What the hell?” you mumbled as you stared at the diamond ring on the fourth digit.

A ring that looked suspiciously like an engagement ring.

No, no, no, we did not.

“Morning, sweetheart,” a familiar voice gently pierced the air as you kept staring at your finger. "Surprised to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

You tore your gaze away to look at Nick, who had an all too smug look on his eyes.

"I don't know yet," you said honestly, clearing the scratch from your throat.

Nick hummed as he walked across the room in just his underwear. A hint of a smirk formed on his handsome face as you admired him. The black suits he normally wore hid how broad his shoulders and chest were. They also hid most of his tattoos, which you vaguely recall tracing a few with your fingers and tongue. Your gaze trailed down his chiseled abs to the front of his boxers, the throbbing ache between your thighs intensifying.

No. Focus.

"You did say too much whiskey would give you a headache," he said, handing you some aspirin and water.

You quickly took the pills with a generous gulp, the cold liquid soothing the slight burn in your throat. "Did we…?" you trailed off.

"Did we what?" he asked, running a hand through his short hair. You were pretty sure you tried to pull it while you rode him. "We did a lot of things last night, so you'll need to be more specific."

Your cheeks flamed as you held up your hand, proud when it didn't shake. "This."

He slowly ducked down and you couldn't stop the hitch in your breath as his lips touched your forehead. "Get married? No," he said, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

You could breathe a bit easier. While your dad wouldn't lay a hand on you if you married without his permission, he could and would wreck the life you tried to have beyond the bubble he put you in. Piece by piece.

"But you also said I couldn't have you unless I put a ring on your finger, so I did."

"I was kidding!" you said. No way he actually believed that.

"I took it seriously," he murmured, moving his mouth to your ear. "And it's a perfect fit. Just like my cock inside you."

"Oh, my god," you whispered.

"You said that, too," he whispered, dragging his lips down the column of your neck. The scruff on his chin left a delicious burn in its path. "I reminded you to say my name instead."

The gravel of his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you moved to the other side of the bed and out of his reach. "I need a minute," you said, feeling his eyes on you as you stood up.

"I'll be waiting."

You didn't bother to cover yourself up as you went to the bathroom, your head not spinning as much as you expected it to. Nick saw everything last night and into the early morning, so you had no shame if you watched your hips sway. Splashing some water on your face, you had no idea where to go from here. While Nick was fun and a wonderful distraction, you couldn't help but wonder if last night was a calculated move.

It wasn't a secret that your dad wanted a son to take over his empire one day. He got you instead. He should have been a good father who loved and cared for you, but he treated you as an investment. You had a good education after you chose a college from the options he provided you. The same with your job as he limited the places you could apply to.

While he didn't keep you in a cage, he certainly kept you on a leash.

Maybe if mom was still around, things would be different.

You would only take over his businesses with a man of his choice by your side. He usually only had you around his inner circle of men long enough for them to flirt and leer at you. You were certain he was prepping you for the highest bidder.

Are you that bidder, Nick?

"Why were you waiting for me last night?" you asked once you went back into the bedroom where Nick was now on the bed. "Did my dad ask you to?"

"I was waiting for you because I wanted you. I thought that was obvious," he answered, unashamedly looking you over as you joined him. He reached for you, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he touched your cheek. "And I got tired of waiting."

Nick Fowler got whatever he wanted.

"But did he ask you to?" you repeated, showing him your hand again. "And how the hell did you just happen to have a ring on you my size?"

"Your dad had nothing to do with it. I've had that ring on me and my eye on you for some time," he said, kissing your hand and drawing a gasp from you as he put you on your back. "In case you forgot, I slipped it on after you drank the rest of my Jack Daniels and gave me a lap dance in my private booth. You didn't complain."

You recalled grinding to the beat as Nick sat back and watched. He looked like a modern king on a throne as the lights pulsed around him. No one would have bat an eye if he fucked you in his VIP section.

Which he did.

"We're not actually engaged, Nick. I said I was kidding about putting a ring on my finger."

His eyes darkened as he stretched over you, his muscles rippling before his weight settled. "You said you'd be mine."

Your heart raced, but it wasn't out of fear. "You don't even know me. Not really," you said, thankful that tears didn't fill your eyes.

How could he when no one was able to get close to you?

His knuckles caressed your cheek and you tried not to lean into his touch. "Told you I've had my eye on you for some time, dulceata. I know you better than you think."

You wanted to believe he did, but could you trust a man who worked with your dad? Did he want you simply to gain access to more resources? Gain more power?

"You're manipulative."

"I prefer calculating and there isn't anything wrong with that," he said before his lips touched yours.

His kiss brought back a reminder of the pleasure he gave you, your body humming with the promise of more. The man had layers to him, but something inside you said he wouldn't hurt you. He may be more inclined to hurt anyone who hurt you.

Maybe.

"I guess you have to be in your line of work," you said, a bitter laugh escaping. It was better than crying. "But if you're serious about whatever this is, do you really think my dad will let us be together? Well, he might if he thinks he can get something from you. He does value you. Pretty sure he even likes you more than he likes me."

It didn't hurt to say that as much as you thought it would.

"I don't give a fuck what your dad thinks," he said, his handsome face gazing down at yours. "I know he thinks he can control your life, but he's in for a rude awakening. And I can promise you I would never be that kind of father to our daughter."

"Please, don't talk about us having kids," you begged. You still had too much of a headache for that, but your womb clenched of its own accord.

"Why not?" he smirked. "You're going to be my wife."

I'm not even going to argue for the time being.

"Well, I need to rest, future husband," you said before he suddenly slid down your body and parted your legs. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just looking at the pretty pussy I ruined," he said, tracing a finger along your slit. Your body quickly responded to his touch and you weren't ashamed of the small moan you let out. "Which belongs to me now. If it wasn’t meant to be, you wouldn’t fit me so perfectly.”

"Is that right?" you asked, clenching around nothing.

Should I beg him to fuck me or play a little hard to get?

"You know it does. And if you want to go back to sleep, go right ahead. I'll fuck you until you're stuffed with me and wake you with my tongue," he said, making your back bow as his warm breath skimmed your folds. "You'll be begging me to fuck you all over again."

Your body went pliant against the sheets. "Nick?" you breathed out. "How do I know I can trust you?" You questioned before you would allow him to distract you.

"I guess I'll have to prove my loyalty to you," he replied, his eyes dark and calculating as he looked up at you. "I'll start by killing your father".

Surely Nick doesn't mean that. Right? Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist �� Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #mob!nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #mob!nick fowler #navy and roo's sleepover #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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obae-me · 1 year

Text

Here's a little fluffy hurt/comfort blurb based on this photo I took that's gotten a surprising amount of attention. We're all out here just simping for tired old anime men, huh?

Content: Hurt/Comfort, Solomon x Reader, GN MC

Keep in mind this might contain potential Nightbringer spoilers!

---

It had been another long night of attendant duties. They had already been considered a handful back in your time, so one could only imagine how bad they were now, or was then the proper term? This time jump still gave you a massive headache. One had to wonder how the demon brothers survived on their own without you around. Even Lucifer needed looking after, even if he would never say such a thing. He often had too many curious looks cross over his face when encountering something he'd never seen before. Of course, anything that happened was now your mess to clean up.

And while being needed by them bolstered your pride...caring for these demons that looked at you like a stranger was exhausting. Being told to return home when you considered the House of Lamentation your home was tiring. Not being able to find comfort in the arms of the demons you considered family was draining. You used to be able to sit down and talk to them. Now...they hardly listened to what you had to say, shooing you off as some fussy attendant. You thought these things over in your head as you walked home alone to Cocytus Hall. The steps you made seemed to echo through the empty streets, although you knew it was just your mind run ragged with weariness, woes, and worries.

The door to your new 'home' creaked as the old metal hinges announced your return. There wasn't a sound. No shouts of 'welcome home', no scolding of being out too late, no questions about where you'd been. It should've torn you up inside, it had torn you up inside, just right now you were far too fatigued to give in to your emotions. You couldn't handle another teary-filled night. Your feet shuffled up the stairs and towards your room. The space was dark, unfamiliar. You and Solomon had rearranged it to feel like your room at the HOL, he'd even grown a tree in the middle of the floor right by your bed, causing the Sorcerer to be harshly punished by Barbatos, but...it wasn't the same. Would it ever feel the same?

You slipped your feet out of your shoes, a flick of your leg sending them towards the frame of your bed. They clattered in the quiet room. Then, a not-so-quiet little groan reached your ears. You felt like at some point in your life, such a noise in a darkened room would've made you jump. Maybe Devildom life had changed you, or maybe you could distinguish the voice from the little moan alone. A little bit of the home-sickness coiled in your chest softened, your lungs not feeling quite so tight. "What're you doing in here?" You wondered aloud, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. When you weren't graced with a response, you twirled a finger, gesturing a spell towards the little lantern on the nightstand. You might not be powerful enough to send yourself home, but you weren't completely powerless at least. The candle's wick lit immediately, casting everything in it's short vicinity in a soft orange glow. There he was, a lump of a shadow atop your mattress. He was turned away from you, facing the wall your bed was pushed up against. His body seemed to be settled on the very edge. You couldn't help but shake your head at him. Not even under the covers, no pillow, still in his RAD uniform, sometimes you had to wonder if you were his attendant as well. He might master the magical and spectacular, but he always seemed to struggle with the most mundane of tasks, like his wisdom held no more room for the ordinary.

Although, despite this situation and the day's frustrations and the fact that there was a mess of a human in your unfamiliar bed, you found yourself smiling just a little, just enough to give you that little push you would need to get up in the morning. Solomon hardly ever let himself be caught in such a position. He wasn't one to often express his vulnerabilities. So, like most things he did, you wondered if it was intentional. Perhaps he was showing you this wasn't easy for him as well, his own strength depleted. Or perhaps there was another meaning to the tempting empty space beside him. You approached the bed and gripped at the end of the comforter. Solomon never seemed to have too much of a problem being berated-- if he did, he never showed it at least-- but the one thing he could never stand to be called was a magician. It always struck you as an odd fact, but an amusing one nonetheless. So, while it may have been childish, you urged him to show you one "magic" trick in particular. The one that's considered little more than a party trick, one where you tug at a sheet or tablecloth and leave the items that had been settled on top undisturbed. With a flourish, you tugged at the blanket with a brisk snap till it was fully in your hands. Although, it hadn't been perfect. You'd tugged Solomon back about an inch. His voice once again rumbled in his chest, a sleepy and curious murmur. You crawled into bed, the mattress bobbing a bit. You laid by his back, pulling the covers over the both of you. You grabbed a few pillows, placing one under your head and the other next to Solomon. With a gentle hand, you slid your palm under the sorcerer's neck, bringing your touch up to where you could feel his cheek. You lifted his head and dragged the cushion underneath it. Of course, this sudden act forced him to stir.

"Hm?" Solomon hummed, his cheek rubbing against the pillowcase till his head started to turn.

No, you didn't want him to move. You didn't want him to turn around, to look at your tired eyes that threatened to shed tears. So you planted your face in the back of his neck, your arms finding their way to his sides, wrapping around him. You were practically pinning him in place now. Which was fine. You...were supposed to act like a demon now, right? You could act selfish. You felt his body stiffen at first, a little bit off guard, but then he relaxed again.

You heard him breathe deeply through his mouth, perhaps still half-asleep. "Welcome home," you heard him whisper. "Long day?"

"Long week," you replied, a certain shudder in your voice you never intended to make. He went silent at that. You knew that the things you said hurt him to a degree. There was a sadness to his eyes whenever you showed up at Cocytus Hall with nothing but dejected looks on your face even when he sat there waiting for you with your favorite take-out. There was a little slump to his shoulders anytime you would express how lonely you felt even with him around. His smirk always wavered whenever he did his best to cheer you up but knew that it would never be enough. Coming all the way to the past like this just for you must be a heavy burden in it's own right. "I'm really glad," you began to say, "that you're here with me." You definitely had thought it in your mind, but you wondered if you expressed your thanks vocally yet. You'd finally done it now at least. "I don't think I'd be able to do this on my own."

His chest swelled in a big deep breath before letting it out through his nose. His hand managed to find one of yours, his fingers brushing against yours, not yet fully intertwining but simply dancing on the edge of the possibility. "You should give yourself more credit than that. But, I would be lying if I said I wasn't glad to hear you say that." You both rested in another little bout of peaceful silence, listening to the soft breaths of one another, feeling the warmth of another human. "It was an easy decision," Solomon finally expressed. "I didn't need to think twice about it. I couldn't leave my precious apprentice to fend for themselves." His fingers finally slipped between yours slowly, knuckle bumping into knuckle, feeling the pads of your palms, like he was exploring the feeling. You wondered how long it had been since he last held hands with someone. "My partner through time..." He then chuckled a little bit. "Sounds a bit like a cheesy movie, doesn't it?" Clearly he was trying to brighten the mood. You let out a single huff of a laugh, your nose at the base of his skull, his hair brushing against your face. You felt him take an unsteady breath, his body curling a little bit, shifting towards you. "Will you let me stay in your arms a little longer?"

A little smile curled around your lips. Tempting fate, you kissed the back of his neck. "You can stay here till morning if you want. After all, I wouldn't want to leave my adorable teacher all by himself," you lightly teased, mirroring his own phrase at him. You watched the dim light in the room flicker before it was snuffed out. Magic probably had a hand in it. You closed your eyes as adjusted your hold on Solomon, finding the most comfortable position against his back. "Goodnight," you whispered. "See you tomorrow?" You didn't mean for it to come off like such an uncertain question. But you were afraid, afraid that things would get worse, that you'd be stranded in the past forever.

But he was determined to be here with you, to make sure you were safe, to make sure you had someone to rely on. "I'll be here."

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 11 months

Note

okay. hear me out. Kappa belittling you while you cry and whimper over the size of his cock🙁🙁 mean dom kappa has my heart I swear

This is my meal. I call it 🌟guuuuuuurl diiinnnerrrrr🌟

Mating Season

Summary: In which Kappa is using you as his personal fleshlight 😗

Pairing: Kappa x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Content Warnings: Nothing But Filth 18+!, Mean!Dom!Kappa Being A Menace, Doggy, Ovulation Hornyness, So Much Cum, Straight Up Breeding (It's Not Just A Kink Anymore, Y'all 🥴), Resulting In Possible Impreg, Refractory Period? We Don't Know Her Around Here, Overstimulation (Reader Is Completely Gone At This Point), Very Primal, Petnames, Manhandling, Spanking (That's Prolly The Most Normal Thing In This Fic)

A/N: We all know ovulation hornyness is actually diabolical 👀

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @roryculkinsbf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess

Come play my game, I'll test ya

Psychosomatic, addict, insane

Come play my game

Inhale, inhale, you're the victim

Come play my game

Exhale, exhale, exhale

- Breathe By The Prodigy (Remix)

You felt it slowly trickling down the inside of your thighs, the accumulated gooey amalgamation of ejaculate, sweat and the slick of your countless orgasms sticky against your skin. Single dollops of it practically flew through the air, splattering onto an already damp mattress and all over Kappas crotch repeatedly whilst he fucked into you from behind with relentlessl fervor.

Lewd, straight up filthy wet sounds echoed from the decrepit stone walls but not really cutting through to you anymore. You, with your head pressed against the sheets, your hair nothing but a mess all over and around your face, drool leaking from between your quivering lips, were a goner.

Not a single thought crossed your fogged mind, all that was left was to simply feel and that you did for sure.

With each heavy roll of Kappa's hips against your already spanked and bruised ass, you felt how the angry tip of his cock spearheaded into your sore cunt that was clearly overflowing with bodily fluids at this point. You felt how your walls clenched and tightened around him, how your body betrayed you like this and failing to realize that Kappa had been hammering himself into your abused pussy like that for hours now. For some wicked reason, your body still craved more, getting increasingly cockdrunk with every time you felt him stroking his girth over that especially sensitive spot of yours.

The point where your muscles couldn't take it anymore was long overstepped already, but you just froze in the position you were in, with your ass raised up high on trembling knees and your front pinned to the mattress, blacking out the pain in devout submission.

With your eyes closed, all senses turned inward, you only knew the pushing and shoving, thrusting and pulling back of his throbbing cock deep inside of you, making you see stars sparkling on the black of your eyelids. Time and place rendered into obscure concepts that didn't apply to you in any way right now.

"Hey, you still here?" Kappa barked out in a breathy, low laugh before the flat of his palm swung down onto the round of your behind.

The answer you gave to that was far from some carefully articulated word and but a meak whimper that snaked its way out of your mouth upon impact.

"There, there…I was worried about my sweet, little cum bunny for a moment." Just for good measure, he struck down on your ass again, successfully leaving a glowing red imprint of his hand next to countless others.

You felt the pain shooting through your weak body yet your worn out nerve endings couldn't be bothered to even do so much as flinch.

"Oh, you're so far gone, aren't you?", Kappa mocked, pushing himself into you again, splitting you open from the inside out, "Don't worry, babe, I'll make sure to finally fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you take my cock so good. Such an obedient slut."

The words reached your ears, your fucked out brain trying to comprehend in a fruitless attempt. The last thing you knew was essentially begging unto him to touch you, to fuck the hornyness, caused by your monthly cycle, out of you and to ease the throbbing need between your legs with his body. Kappa more than gladly took you up on that invitation.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get you pregnant, fucking finally. Do the very thing none of those Replicas could ever do and actually procreate.", He rambled on in his deranged train of thought, "Can't wait for your belly to grow and swell with the human life that I father right here."

It seemed as if he talked himself into a delusional spurt, picking up the pace in which his thighs slapped against the brutalized skin of your ass, not even fully pulling out anymore before shoving himself into you again.

It had the tiny rest of your still haphazardly functioning brain short circuiting as your weak fingers searched for support by digging into the sheets. It was to no avail, your tear-soaked cheek chaffed over the fabric with each thrust, most likely turning sore by the time he'd eventually be done with you here.

"Shit, fuck…", It seeped out of his mouth in a guttural groan, " 'M gonna cum again just by thinking about getting you knocked up, bunny."

Although your brain was nothing but a fucked out puddle by now, you recognised how his rhythm faltered like the plenty of times before, his pulsing cock turning rigid inside of you before a new, hot and tacky wave of his seed flooded your already full to the brim insides.

You sensed how his load pushed past your walls and exuded out of your sore cunt, smearing down the insides of your thighs just like the last and the one before that.

"Gosh, you're such a perfect, submissive breeding slut for me. Fucking love you and your pussy when you're so needy for me like that. Gonna make sure that I fuck all of my cum into you nice and deep.." With that, Kappa inhaled sharply before rolling his hips against your behind again, pulling a weak whimper from your lungs.

"Might as well just do that all night long."

#asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #kappa #kappa black mirror #black mirror #black mirror: beyond the sea #kappa x you #kappa smut #kappa x fem!reader #kappa x reader

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wildemaven · 1 year

Text

bloom : one | joel miller

→ pairing: no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

→ WC: 2494

→ warnings: meet cute vibes, reader is single mom, small injury at work, Joel to the rescue using nontraditional techniques to help (I don't want to give it away), daughter is a teen and bleeds sarcasm, fluff and more fluff, mention of divorce and adoption.

→ a/n: some of you are probably like “wait, what is happening?!” i started this series on another account that i was using to take a break from this one. I had plans to finish this series out over there and then just abandon the account and move back here. but i love this series and want it to live here with my other work. so, im getting things set up so i can post part two later this week and move back to this account for good. also, this is series is a TLOU AU, so I've fudged all timelines and relationships to make it work for me. Ihope you like it, am very nervous to share it with you all.

two | series masterlist | main masterlist

You’re staring.

It would feel less awkward if it were somewhere else, anywhere but where you are right now. Like sitting a table away at a packed restaurant, enough people crowded around to lessen your obvious ogling of a handsome stranger, eyes locked on his profile as you hide behind the empty glass you’re pretending to sip from. The crossing of paths in a grocery store would also feel less awkward, a quick glance back over your shoulder after your carts squeeze through the nearly claustrophobic aisle, your gaze on him as he stares at the shelves filled with sugary snacks— he most definitely would have a wicked sweet tooth you think.

Unfortunately for you, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, it’s just you and him, alone in the store front of the floral shop— your floral shop.

He’d walked by the front window, stopping instantly to read the shop’s name in gold letters above the entrance, then hands cupped over his eyes and face pressed close to the glass contemplating the shop’s worthiness of his time.

It’s a corner spot, sitting at the crossroads of two of the town’s busiest shopping streets— prime location. Bold was a chance you took with painting the exterior black, even with the apprehension of the city council deeming it too “gothic” for the town's rather conservative appeal. The dark exterior paired with black and white striped awning over the door was the perfect balance of moody and romantic.

It was worthy enough, pushing the front door open he stepped inside, the automated bell signaling through the shop. The heaviness of his boots scuff across the wood floor a few steps, his broad body stopping in front of one of the cold displays that held an array of dramatic arrangements. His hands tucked securely into his pockets as he looks around aimlessly, it’s evident this isn’t a regular occurrence for him.

“Welcome to Wilder Floral. Is there anything I can help you with today?” You greet him from your workbench.

Your hands busily work to trim the ends and dethorn the stems of a bundle of antique mauve roses, one of your best sellers, then trimming off the lower leaves before placing them in a bucket of water.

“Not really sure at the moment. Just browsin’ for now.” His deep voice sounds through the small space, the raspy tone sending a tingle down your spine.

“Okay. Well, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask.” He nods to you, catching the way his gaze doesn’t immediately break from you, he gives you a half smile then continues to look over everything again.

You’re staring.

Your mind is filled with thoughts of only this handsome stranger, quietly watching him over the now full bucket of cleaned roses.

You note the way his hip cocks out to the side as he stands with his large hands secure against his small waist. His eyebrows pinch together briefly, a look of deep thought painted over his face accentuating the little crinkles around his eyes. After a moment, his beautiful face relaxes into a calmer expression.

You can make out every muscle that runs the length of his arms, the weight of the arrangement he’s now holding provoking the defined musculature. His arms lifting and turning the vase with ease, examining every detail of the floral design you created.

You’re still staring. You can’t help it though. Actually, you can, but your brain convinces you that you are just admiring, so that makes it more than okay— right?

“You know, if you take a picture it lasts longer!” A hushed voice pops up from behind you.

“Ouch!! God dammit, Ellie! Why do you do that?!” You yelp, tossing the rose stem you were holding onto the table.

“It’s too easy! You were lost in la la land over some grumpy guy looking at flowers. I saw an opportunity, so I took it.” She laughs, pushing your buttons brings her a weird satisfaction.

There’s a throbbing pain coming from your hand. Looking down you see part of a thorn had broken off and was now embedded deep into the pad of your finger— a rookie mistake at this point in your career. You wrap your other hand around the base of your fingers, hoping some pressure will elevate the pain.

“I’m glad you enjoyed this. Can you just go grab the first aid kit in the back, please!”

“Yeah, yeah. Try not to fall for him too hard while I’m gone— don’t think you have enough bandages to fix that mess.” She sulks away into the back room.

“Shit!” You hiss, the pain getting more intense and now radiating through your entire finger.

“You okay ma’am?” The handsome customer asks you, stealthy in his approach to where you’re standing, still clutching your hand.

He places the floral arrangement he was holding down on your work table, his feet still moving in an urgent manner until he is standing in front of you.

“Yeah— actually, no… The thorn broke off and it’s in there real good. It hurts and I’m trying really hard to not be a baby about it. Someone’s getting a first aid kit out of the back for me.” You hold your pained finger up to him.

“Do you want me to take a look at it?” His hands slowly reach out, your lips parted and ready to speak but words fail you, only managing to nod a response.

Your mind briefly wonders what Ellie is up to, but the thought vanishes instantly once his hands wrap around your wrist and he brings your injured finger closer to his face.

“My name is Joel.” He looks over to you, heat pricks over your cheeks as he holds your gaze. It’s a cosmic thing, his touch activating warmth you’ve longed for. A corner of his mouth lifts, you can’t help but fixate on the dimple that forms resulting in a barrage of flutters erupting in your chest.

“Hi Joel.” Giving him yours in return, his smile growing louder as he repeats it back to you softly, like he couldn’t wait to say it out loud.

He refocuses back on your injury. A pinched expression, similar to the one he wore earlier, is even more adorable up close— zeroing in on the small wound that was tormenting you.

Joel’s movements are dizzying, an unbridled enthusiasm that elicits a sudden burst of desire you hadn’t experienced in ages, but he senses you trust him at your willingness to let him take control of the situation. Bringing your finger to his mouth, he wraps his pillowy lips around the tip of your finger and sucks with a gentle pressure. You watch him unabashedly, completely mesmerized by the way he jumped into action, how his cheeks draw in from the suction.

Your eyes lock when he looks up from your hand, sensing your eyes already on him, his thumbs drawing circles over your wrist, soothing over your racing pulse, as he continues to suck at the fleshy pad of your finger. It feels nearly overwhelming, the fierceness of his warm brown eyes has an inebriating feeling blooming inside you.

A gasp shoots through your throat at the feeling of his tongue slightly flicks over the part of your finger that is in his mouth, pressing the back of your other hand against your lips, embarrassed by your reaction to the erogenous sensation.

The whole thing is over as quickly as it began. Joel is pulling your finger from his lips, his grip still holding on to your wrist as he lowers your arm down to your side. You watch as the tip of his tongue breaches his lips, his pointer finger and thumb picking at the small little thorn that was once lodged into your skin, now resting on his tongue. He rubs his lips together almost nervously, the weight of the whole situation kind of sinking in.

“Got it!” He rasps, holding the annoying culprit up between his fingers.

“How did you know that would work? I usually have to dig those out with tweezers. That was— wow, thank you.”

“I get splinters regularly— I’m a carpenter. Sometimes when I’m out on the job, gotta use what you have. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, just knew it needed to come out— the last thing you want is an infected finger.” He rubs nervously at the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t over step in anyway.

“No! Not uncomfortable in the slightest!! Thank you, seriously. Rose thorns can cause a mean infection too. I appreciate it—“

“I leave for two minutes and you’ve already moved onto second base with the guy?!” Ellie announces her reemergence, holding the first aid kit in her hands and a grossed out look on her face.

“Ellie!” Your body runs cold, completely mortified, ready to crawl into the nearest hole.

“He had your finger in his mouth— probably more like rounding to third if I’m being honest.”

You grab the kit from her hands, setting it on the counter, turning to see Joel still rooted in the same spot with his hands tucked into his front pockets and a tinge of red across his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry! Sometimes I think my daughter forgets she has a filter and that she can actively choose to use it before she speaks.” You try to make sure he isn’t the one who feels uncomfortable now.

“Adopted daughter, actually.” You roll your eyes at her need for technicalities. Adopted, yes, but daughter nonetheless. “Also, in case you were wondering, cause I’m sure you are, she’s single.”

“Ellie!” You look back at her with a sternness in your voice, eyes blown wide in hopes she picks up that she can stop at any point in time. Turning back to Joel, you mouth an ‘I’m sorry’, your shoulders dropping in defeat.

There’s an awkward silence that settles over the three of you. Joel looks like he doesn’t really seem to know how to diffuse the awkwardness at hand, Ellie has a shit eating grin she wears proudly when she knows she’s embarrassed you just enough, and you simply would like to evaporate into thin air.

“So, this is the part where you give your relationship status to her— makes this whole ‘her finger in your mouth’ thing feel a little less weird for all of us.” She has a point. You had been wondering that very thing, but how were you supposed to bring it up when he’s sucking a thorn out of your finger with his gorgeous mouth.

“Single— very much single.” He laughs at how forward she is, knowing she’s just looking out for you. “I do have a daughter, probably about your age too.”

“What, your wife die or something?” Ellie asks with zero hesitation.

“No. Just an ole fashion divorce. Anythin’ else you wanna to know?” He looks to Ellie, ready for whatever comes next.

She studies Joel for a beat, “Nope, that’s all.”

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful to what ever greater power decided to switch Ellie’s filter back on.

Ellie turns to head to the back room, where she had previously been working on her homework, but turns on her heels in the process to look back at Joel and you.

“One last thing, she needs to be wined and dined before you even think about kissing her.” Then she's gone before you can say anything else.

The awkwardness creeps back into the room, you’re not really sure how to come back from all of that. You open the first aid box, rifling through the contents for a cleaning pad and small bandage.

“She seems like a fun kid.” Joel decides to take the lead, watching you swipe the alcohol pad over your finger.

“She is— she definitely keeps me on my toes at all times. But, she’s got a big heart under all her sarcasm.” You tell him. You grab for the bandage, but Joel beats you to it, snagging it off the table and ripping it open before you get the chance.

You hold your finger out in front of you, ready for him to wrap it up properly for you, but instead of sticking gauze, your wounded finger is met with his plush lips for a few seconds.

“Obviously, a kiss to make it better.” He smiles again and you melt, biting at your lower lip as he wraps the dressing around your finger.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“Speaking of daughters— mine is the reason I came here in the first place. I was wanting to get this arrangement for her. She passed a test she’d been stressin’ about. Thought I’d get her a little something to celebrate her.” Joel points to the flowers on the cash stand that he had been holding earlier, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket and pulling out his credit card ready to pay.

“They’re on the house today.” You tell him as you walk up to your computer, imputing the information to zero out the sale.

“No— no, I can’t let you do that. Lemme pay for them please. Least I can do for all your time and talent you put in.” Holding his card out to you, insisting he pay in full.

“You practically saved my life,” A slight exaggeration, but he laughs anyway. “How about you come here for all your flowers in the future, instead of my competitors, and we’ll call it even.”

“I can do that. I might just have a need for flowers soon then, I’m sure I can find an excuse to come back for more— you think you can handle that?”

“Yeah— I can handle that.” Handing him the vase of flowers, hoping he does find an excuse to come back and tell you how much his daughter enjoyed them.

Joel walks a few feet in the direction of the door then stops, turning back to see you’re already busily back to work with a handful of flowers. He says your name, falling from his lips like sweet honey, and you don’t think you could ever get tired of him saying it the way he does. “I’ll be seein’ you around. Try to be safe until then, m’kay?”

“See you around Joel. I’ll keep the injuries to a minimum until then.”

“I’d prefer no injuries at all, actually.”

“I’ll do my best.”

You exchange goodbyes, watching him cross the street and get settled into his truck from the store front window. You’re not sure why you miss him, having only just met, but there’s a longing that’s started to burn inside your heart.

Joel’s truck merges onto the road, he takes one last glance in your direction, his hand thrown out the window waving at you as he drives off, planning his next visit so he can see you again.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #bloom series #no outbreak!joel miller #tlou au #pedrostories

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mynameismckenziemae · 7 months

Text

Outlet for your frustration.

You had the worst day at work and need an outlet for your frustration.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x you

Warnings: swearing, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, femdom, spanking, a sprinkle of ass play, humiliation, oral (both m and f receiving) smut. Let me know if I missed anything

———————————————————

This fic and everything I post is for 18+. MNDI. Do not repost my work without consent or steal my work. Reblogs/likes/comments would comments would make me happy, so please interact if you'd like (please be nice though, I’m sensitive haha). Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

A/N: So I don’t know what this is or what I’m doing. I’m not a writer. I’m not creative. This is literally the first thing I’ve written since high school and I’m in my 30s.

*Edited with Grammarly on 11/20/23.

The car ride is silent as you head home. You had the most frustrating day at work. Even the thought of turning music on overstimulates your fried brain.

Working in healthcare is difficult on a good day, but your specialty seems to get the brunt of crabby, rude patients.

You are the poster child of staying calm, cool, and collected—so much so that your coworkers don’t believe you’ve ever yelled or lost your temper. Jake’s friends adore his sweet, soft-spoken girlfriend. Jake himself hasn’t witnessed you be more than mildly disgruntled in the past 18 months of your relationship.

But today, you’d had enough. You just needed an outlet for all this frustration bubbling up inside.

___________________________________________

Closing the door with a sigh, you decide a shower to help ease some of the tension. Setting your bag down and toeing out of your shoes, you start stripping out of your scrubs on the way to the bedroom. You roll your eyes and smirk as you pick up one of Jake’s socks and his boxers.

___________________________________________

“You do know I’m not your maid, right?” I joke, bending over to pick up a pair of jeans he threw near (not in) the hamper.

A strong pair of arms wrap around my waist and there’s a hardness pressing into my ass.

“I know you’re not, I’m sorry. I always remember eventually, but you always pick it up before I get to it. I’ll do better” he murmurs, kissing my neck, “You would look damn good wearing one of those maid uniforms though”.

___________________________________________

A strangled, “Fuck” snaps you back to the present. Looking down at the sock in your hand, a wicked idea crosses your mind. You know just how to work through this frustration.

___________________________________________

You push open the bathroom door, with the sock still in hand. The sight in front of you sends a pulse of need straight between your legs. Jake is naked, wet and slowly stroking himself.

You clear your throat and he startles, his cheeks flushing pink at being caught in the act.

“Oh hey, you’re home. Sorry, I was—“ he starts.

“You dropped this" nodding to the sock, "and your boxers again. I had to pick them up...again. We talked about this just yesterday and you said you’d do better,” you say, dropping the sock and stepping into the shower behind him. You swat his hand away and take over, tightly gripping his hard-on, and giving him a slow stroke. “What do I have to do for you to remember, Jake?”

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re right. I’m sorry-“You put your finger to his lips to shush him.

“Do you remember what we talked about last week? About wanting me to take control sometimes? Rough you up a little?” You lean in to whisper in his ear while trailing the finger from his lips down his chest to pinch his nipple.

“Yessss” he groaned out, his cock twitching in your hand at your words.

“Yes, what?” You ask, pinching a little harder.

“Ma’am?” You nod. “Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am” he says with a shudder.

“Mmm, good,” you say as you lean forward, sucking the abused nipple into your mouth.

“Fuuuuck” Jake groans again, his hand finding your ass to give it a squeeze.

You pull off his nipple with a pop and shake your head, grabbing his hand from your ass and putting at his side. “This is how it’s going to go. You don’t get to touch me unless I give you permission. You don’t get to touch yourself unless I give you permission. Now turn around and put your hands on the wall”.

Jake looks at you through hooded eyes, "Yes ma'am".

___________________________________________

He turns his back to you and puts his hands out in front of him; the water splashing onto the back of his neck. You snake a hand in front of him to flick the water off, then each of your hands grabs his ass, squeezing and kneading.

"Okay Jake, what's your safeword?"

"Rooster" Jake mutters after a beat.

You quirk your eyebrow at that; but choose to not press right now; tucking that information away to discuss at a later time.

"I think 10 for each item I picked up is fair, don't you?" You ask sweetly.

"10 wha-fuck!" Jake gasps as you deliver the first hit to the right cheek.

"Spanks, hits, strikes, licks…whatever you want to call them. 10 for the sock, 10 for the boxers. You're going to remember this every time you sit down tomorrow, Jake. Don't you have training all day tomorrow too? Your coworkers are going to see you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. If only they knew it was because your girlfriend spanked you like a naughty, little boy." You say, landing a sharp slap to the left cheek.

"Oh God," Jake breathes out, cheeks clenching while his hips rock forward.

"That's two. You're going to count out loud for me. If you lose track, I'm going to start over. As many times as it takes. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am".

*Slap* Another sharp crack to his right cheek.

Jake groans out, "Three ma'am".

You give a couple more slaps, alternating each side. Jake keeps count like the good military boy he is; you can hear how wrecked he is with each blow.

After the fourteenth hit, your hand starts to sting, so you take a step back and admire your handiwork (pun intended).

You were already soaked from the sounds he was making and the increased desperation in his voice with each swat, but seeing how red he was getting was enough to make you throb.

"Oh, what a pretty sight you are. I wanna take a picture just to put it as my wallpaper. Maybe I should send it to everyone in your squad so they can see how pathetic you are standing there, bright red ass cheeks begging for more" you say as you squeeze his cheeks, feeling the warmth.

"No, please, no! I'll do anything. Please, ma'am!" Jake begs, hips rocking forward, looking for any type of friction.

Your hands travel from his ass to his hips, stopping his motion. Your right-hand shifts to grab ahold of his cock suddenly, giving him a few tugs easily from the copious amount of precum he’s leaking.

"I'm not sure this is a punishment seeing how hard you are. I guess I'm going to have to take it up a few notches." You say.

Jake's cock twitches at your words and he whimpers. Whimpers. You've never heard your tough, strong, military man whimper. Another strong wave of arousal pulses through you at the sound. You close your eyes as you kiss his back to compose yourself.

"Color?" You whisper.

"Green ma’am. So fucking green," says Jake.

You release him and stand to reach behind you to quietly grab the wooden bath brush.

“How many more, Jake?”

“Six ma’am.”

”Good boy,” you purr and you see a shiver roll through him.

You bring the bath brush down directly in the center of his right cheek. It makes the most satisfying crack.

Jake’s back arches and his hands tighten on the wall as he lets out a sinful, “Holy fuck”.

You give him a second to compose himself and clear your throat.

“Shit. Fifteen ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

“I’m feeling generous since this is your first time. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The next stroke of the bath brush gets the left side and pulls another deep groan from Jake.

“Sixteen ma’am.”

The next two are slightly lower, directly on his sit spots. He’s definitely going to be reminded of this tomorrow every time he sits down. It sends a delicious thrill through you.

The following swing catches both cheeks. All the muscles in his back and ass tense as he’s fighting not to straighten and take his hands from the wall.

“Nineteen ma’am! Fuck! Wait, please…wait ma’am I’m close and I don’t want to cum yet. Please ma’am.” he whines.

You give him a moment to compose himself, watching him while running the fingers of your free hand through your arousal to circle your clit. His breath slows and he puts his arms back in front of him again.

"You ready?"

"Yes, ma'am".

The final spank hits him again in both sit spots and he cries out, hands slipping.

You drop the brush and kneel while turning him around. You close your eyes as you suck him down greedily, bringing the hand still covered in your arousal between his legs to press on his hole. He lets out a choked noise and his hands fly into your hair as he thrusts, once, twice, and empties down your throat.

You swallow and open your eyes to look up at him. He. Is. Wrecked. Tears are leaking out of glassy eyes, flushed face, and chest heaving.

"Are you okay? Was that too mu--"

"That was amazing, "Jake says against your lips as he lifts you to your feet and seats you on the shower bench behind you. "I've never cum that hard in my life. That was so hot. You're so hot. I've never seen you like that. So ruthless and cold and mean and hot. Fuck, that was hot."

You laugh as he kneels, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and dives in like a man starved, licking ruthlessly at your clit. You moan, grabbing at his hair and directing him exactly where you want him. You're so worked up from having him at your mercy that you're trembling through your orgasm in no time.

___________________________________________

You shower together after, and Jake asks about your day as he rubs your back and shoulders. You’re already feeling lighter by the time you get out.

As you're drying off, you snort as you catch a glimpse of Jake's bright red ass in the mirror. He turns to see what you're looking at and his gaze darkened as his cock twitches as he starts to harden again.

"You do realize I'm going to remember to put my clothes in the hamper now, but I might dump some out on the floor if this is what happens when you have to remind me," Jake says as he picks you up.

You laugh all the way to the bedroom, the frustration from the day completely forgotten.

___________________________________________

The next day at training:

Jake did remember every time he sat down, he squirmed in his seat trying to get comfortable, and he spent the majority of the day with the sweet discomfort of arousal. Oddly enough, Rooster was the only one to notice.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun smut #jake seresin x you #sub!jake seresin #jake hangman smut #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #smut #be nice #top gun fanfiction #top gun fandom #Jake hangman seresin smut

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spacequokka · 1 year

Text

About Time

Pairing: Changkyun x Reader Genre: Angst, Smut Rating: M Summary: You broke the number rule of fuck buddies and ghosted him. You think you don’t have to answer for that? Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: mentions of drinking, fingering, public unprotected vaginal sex, hair pulling, biting, creampie

Arrow: Gold > Friends (with benefits!) to Lovers AU

Thanks to everyone in @kvanity-main who patiently put up with my 99 questions and requests. Extra thanks to @jinsquishes for the beautiful banner. I recommend nvrmnd, Die for You, God Damn, and Horizon for this. Happy Valentine’s Day my lovelies!

One would assume a dark, crowded club would be the best place to avoid someone you’re ghosting. How could you ever hope to find anyone through all the bodies and smoke? Now add the fact that the person you’re avoiding hates places like this, and it should be perfect. Right?

Wrong.

Because across the fucking room with a red solo cup in one hand and a vape in the other was none other than the last person you planned to see tonight. You fully expected to see the Easter Bunny before Changkyun’s molten stare. A sharp elbow to your side yanked you out of the mental sinkhole you fell into the second your eyes met his.

“What the fuck are you staring at—” Vita followed your line of sight and gasped dramatically. “Ain’t no way. I thought he hated clubs. What the fuck is he doing here?”

You sputtered something that could’ve been a response in baby talk, mind thoroughly fucked as you scrambled to get your shit together. Quickly tossing back the rest of your drink, you looked around, frantically searching for the nearest exit. You’d even jump out of a third-story window at this moment.

“I’ve gotta get the fuck out of here.” You threw your cup away. “I can’t be here.”

“Wait, what?” She pulled on your arm. “No! Don’t leave me! You swore you’d hang out with me tonight.”

“Well, that was before Korean John Wick popped up looking like he’s gonna take me out with a pencil.” You looked at her, eyes pleading for understanding. “What if he comes over? He’s gonna ask why I’m not answering his calls and texts. What the fuck am I gonna say to him?”

Her grip tightened. “Be honest with him! Just flat out say you caught feelings and the situation doesn’t vibe for you anymore. I’m pretty sure he’d appreciate you being upfront with him instead of pulling this hide-and-go-seek shit.”

“Oh, fuck you, smart ass. You dodged Taehyung for weeks before you nutted up and told him the truth.”

Shock flashed in her eyes before she let go. “Wow. Digging deep in the past, ain’t you? At least I fucking told him.”

“Right.” You looked back at Changkyun. The cup and vape were gone, but his eyes were still on you as he watched with curiosity. “So I have at least another week or two before you can talk shit. God, he looks like he’s gonna come over. If he does…”

“Jesus, _____, just spit the words out and be done with it.” She crossed her arms. “It’s better than dragging this out any longer. Trust me. What’s he gonna do? Dump you? You’re not dating. At the most, he’ll agree it won’t work and walk away. He isn’t the type to make a scene.”

As if to piss on her logic, Changkyun pushed away from the wall and headed in your direction, snaking through people without taking his eyes off you. Pure fear made your heart stutter as you grabbed her shoulders.

“Yeah, right. Tell him that, will you? I’m getting the fuck out of here.” You darted to the side. Stupid fucking heels and stupid fucking drinks made it hard to coordinate your limbs in a way that put as much space between you and the quiet storm behind you as fast as you could. Sure, it was a cowardly thing to do, but you weren’t in any shape to have a decent conversation with him. An honest one. One that formally put an end to the nights that bled into mornings where he’d cuddle you as the sun rose. To the moments you cherished while confusing you.

Not yet. You needed more time. Just a little more time.

Your eyes stung as you pushed your way through to the nearest glowing green ceiling sign. You just wanted out, away. Anything but face the truth, the inevitable hurt. The chilly night air was refreshing on your heated face when you stepped out the door. The panic softened just enough for your head to clear. Okay, you were in an alley. You just needed to figure out which way the street was so you could get a Lyft and—

The door opened behind you. Panic shot through you like shards of ice as you looked over your shoulder in horror and watched Changkyun step out. Time crawled to a stop as he adjusted his black leather jacket, pulling on the collar of his matching silk shirt. “Are you done running from me?”

Your mouth opened and closed as each train of thought derailed before making it to your lips. Running? In which sense? You turned around to face him, intent on saying something but ultimately failing because what the fuck should you say?

The longer he waited for you to speak, the more intense his stare got. “You realize the whole point of being fuck buddies is to actually fuck, right?” He pulled the door shut behind him then put his hands into his pocket, and cocked his head to the side. “And I’m not sure if you noticed, but uh, we haven’t fucked since—what—three weeks ago?”

“Something more like two and a half.” You mumbled.

His eyebrows rose. “Oh, so she does remember how to communicate.” He looked away and nodded, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since I’m not worth the effort of a call or text, I won’t waste your time. Just tell me why we’re not fucking anymore and I’ll be on my way.” He gestured at you with his hand in his coat pocket. “Go on. Is it someone else?”

There was something in the way his frown and grouchy words didn’t match the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Though it was brief, for a second you saw the Changkyun you wished you could be with all the time. The one who was emotionally available. “N-no. I haven’t…no one but you, Kyun.”

Confusion creased his brow even more. “So, then what is it? I give it to you good, right? I mean, the way you can’t even get out of bed after—”

“It’s not that. I promise.” You bit your lip and looked at your feet. “Please, Kyun. It’s hella stupid. I just…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. He was expecting some grand, logical reason when in reality it was so fucking…simple.

“What is it?” He prodded. His gaze dragged over your body before he looked away and changed his stance. “Jeez, you don’t have to overthink everything. Just spit it out.” He closed his eyes, swallowed, and lowered his voice. “Just say it.”

Maybe it was the sudden softness in his words that made your chest tighter as your throat and eyes burned. Right. Just say it. Let go and move on. You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I-I can’t do this anymore.”

His face tightened for a second as if he’d flinched from pain. For a solid minute, neither of you said a word, listening to the ambiance around you. The cars passing by on the street. The muffled bass of the music inside the club. The hum of electricity from the flickering streetlight nearby. Just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of silence, he asked, “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You reached out and nearly touched him before thinking better of it. “No. It’s me. My mistake. I—” You swallowed and looked around the dimly lit alley as if the words you needed to say would jump out and save your ass. How could you tell him the truth without ripping your heart out in the process? You hugged yourself and shut your eyes, willing the unshed tears to back the fuck off. You could cry it out later. Not here. Not in front of him. He’d told you plenty of times tears did nothing for him. “Fuck. When we started this, we both agreed to keep it casual. No feelings.”

He inhaled sharply and took a step forward. The crunch of the ground under his shoes made your eyes snap open. A mistake. His eyes widened upon seeing the tears lining yours. “Baby—”

You shook your head and hugged yourself tighter. “A-at first, that worked for me, Kyun. I swear it did. Sex with you is the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced so far in life. You’re amazing, so please don’t question that. But, as we got to know each other more, things got…complicated.”

“Really. Complicated, how?” He took another step closer and you took one back. “What complication justifies shutting me out?”

Your body sagged as your chest tightened to the point of pain. “Please, don’t make me say it.”

“I deserve to know the truth, don’t I? I’ve spent more time in the past six months in bed with you than I have on my own. I got to the point where I’m not used to waking up alone.” He licked his lips and exhaled hard. “Like, I get that fuck buddies aren’t as close as we are. Maybe friends with benefits doesn’t cover it either. Whatever it is, it’s good, right?”

You hated how your heart colored his words with hope and yearning. This wasn’t the same guy who swore to you he couldn’t do relationships. That you’d never catch him doing lovey-dovey couple stuff. That wasn’t him. Commitment wasn’t in his skillset. “For you.” You bit out after a gulp of air. “It’s good for you. I-I can’t separate the physical from the emotional stuff.” You looked at him through tears. “I tried so hard to keep it casual. I reminded myself over and over that you can’t give me lo—more. But you confused me! Insisting I stay each night, waking up with you. Telling me I’m beautiful and insisting we hang out for fun. How was I supposed to keep my heart out of it?”

His expression went blank, completely clueless as he stared at you. “What?”

“God, Kyun. For someone who says otherwise, you do the boyfriend thing really well.” You dried your face by dabbing at it with your coat sleeve. “For a minute, you had me imagining what it’d be like. And once I got to that point, I knew I couldn’t go on with this anymore. It hurts like hell to want someone in a way they’ll never want you.”

Changkyun blinked a few times before understanding dawned on his pretty face. “Oh.” He got a distant look in his eyes, looking down the alley at the street. “So…you caught feelings for me?”

Your arms dropped to your sides. The gut punch wasn’t as painful as you thought it’d be, but it still hurt. “I know I should’ve talked to you. I just…didn’t know what to say or how to say it.”

He bit his bottom lip and nodded then took a step towards you. You automatically took a step back so he took another. And another. And another. Your back collided with the wall of the building behind you and before you knew it, he was pressed against you, chest to chest, and looking into your eyes with an expression you’d never seen on his face before. Worse of all, it made your stomach turn with excitement in a way that only he ever could incite. His fingertips caressed your cheek before they traced down to your neck.

“Say it again,” his voice was low and warm like coffee on your tongue, “tell me what you imagined being with me was like.”

You sucked in cold air noticing how the tip of your nose was getting numb. “I—this isn’t a joke, Kyun!” You pushed at his chest. “I’m being serious—”

His fingers curled around the back of your neck and gently squeezed. “And so am I. I wanna hear it.” He pulled you close until your foreheads touched then gently rubbed his nose against yours. “You made me go weeks without hearing your voice or seeing your face over this. So, give it all to me. Every single thought. Make the pain worth it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You swallowed hard and looked into his eyes. “I told you. It’s dumb. I just pictured stupid couple stuff like taking selfies, holding hands in front of your friends, or cuddling on a rainy day.”

He hummed as his fingertips caught the hem of your skirt. “I admit, that does sound like stupid couple stuff.” You scoffed and tried to pull away, so he quickly followed with, “But I’d do them with you if you really wanted to. At this point, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do with you. For you. To you.”

“What?” You searched his eyes, mind reeling as his words echoed in your head.

“Let me make a little confession of my own.” His free hand gripped your jaw between his thumb and index finger as the other splayed across your thigh. “Since I last saw you, I haven’t been out much. Maybe to the store. At first I thought maybe you were just busy. But then Jooheon would tell me he saw you out with your friend and each time I wondered if it was me. Maybe you were avoiding me.” He pulled your leg up on his hip. “At first, I told myself I didn’t care. That you’d get over whatever the fuck you were going through and come back when you were ready. But you never did.”

You gasped as his hand wandered between your bodies and toyed with the edge of your panties. “Kyun—”

“No, no. Shh. Listen to me. I need you to know how hard it was to stay away and give you space, baby. No one else touches this dick but you.” It was hard to focus on his words when his fingers started to stroke your clit through the sheer fabric. “I don’t even get hard at the thought of fucking anyone but you. That whole time you were gone? It was just me and my hand.” His lips brushed against yours, but he didn’t kiss you and smiled when you started to chase his mouth. “Just like you, hm? What did you use?”

His fingers pushed your panties aside and cupped your pussy, middle finger pressing between your folds. “My toys—oh, god—and fingers.” Your breath hitched as he dipped his finger inside.

He moved his hand from your chin to the wall. “Did they feel good? Better than me?” You shook your head and he bit his lip, rewarding your honesty with the rest of his finger buried to the hilt. “You look so fucking hot right now. This skirt. This top.” He leaned in and nipped at your neck, soothing the skin with a lick as he worked his finger in and out. “I saw you as soon as I walked in. Wanted you right then. Needed you…”

His words were smoke in your head, creating a dense fog of him that made you burn from the inside out. Your hips rolled on his hand, pace increasing when he added another finger. You were vaguely aware of how fucked out and needy you sounded as he pulled moans from you with just his hand. His lips caught yours and ended with a playful bite as he pulled his hand away.

“As needy as the last time we did this, huh?” He groaned in your ear, low and husky as he fumbled with his pants. You couldn’t even respond, too focused on helping him work the belt buckle and zipper. The second his dick was free, he pushed his pants down to his thighs and reached for yours. “Get up here.”

One leg went around his waist, and with a hop, so was the other. You put your arms around his neck. Using the wall for leverage, he gave you sloppy, frantic kisses as he held you up by your thighs, feeling around with the head of his dick for your entrance. You squealed when it pressed into your clit and he chuckled into your mouth as he angled his hips just right and—

“Say it, baby.” He hissed as he pushed in slowly. “Tell me again why you ghosted me.” You tightened your grip, nails digging into the sleeves of your coat, as his dick stretched you with an ache you missed. When it felt like it’d never stop, he was fully seated inside and twitching every time you clenched. “Say it.”

“B-because I fell for you.” You whimpered when he pulled back then snapped his hips once. A warning. “Ah! Fuck, Kyun.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and hid your face. “I love you. I did it because I love you and I thought you wouldn’t feel the same.”

“Fucking finally.” He brushed a kiss to the side of your face and adjusted his grip on your thighs. “About time you came around, baby.” With another snap of his hips, he set a steady pace that he’d occasionally interrupt by grinding his pelvis against your clit, determined to get you both there as quickly as possible. “Need you to cum with me. Missed you so much. I hate waking up without you next to me. Need you th—Ah, fuck. So tight.”

Your fingertips caught the ends of his hair and you pulled on it. In response his strokes grew longer, deeper as he let you drop onto his length with a clap of skin. Every time he moved, sparks danced up your spine and through your limbs. “Oh, fuck!”

“It’s been so long, baby. Just a—just a little longer. I’m almost there.” He nudged your head back and kissed you hard, a clash of lips and tongue as he swallowed your moans while feeding you his own. You were vaguely aware of how the bricks dug into your back and hips, too lost in the pleasure you were drowning in. How had you stayed away from him for so long when he could do shit like this to you? You were crumbling to pieces in his arms, on his dick, and for once it didn’t scare you shitless. You could trust him to put you back together. You held his face and kissed him harder, trying to match his intensity. When he caught your tongue and sucked on it, you fell apart. You came hard, convulsing in his arms as he leaned back and switched to quick strokes, moaning your name as he reached his high. “Oh, shit. Fuck, baby, fuck. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

He leaned against you with a whimper as his body rode the wave, pressing up into you as he stuffed your pussy with cum. Your lips met after a few misses and you laughed through a kiss. The kiss slowly turned to light pecks between shy smiles as he rubbed your thighs. “My back is gonna be so sore in the morning.”

He snorted and kissed you once more before helping you down onto your shaky feet. “That’s not the only thing that’ll be sore. The night is young.”

You playfully swatted his arm as you fixed your panties and skirt. “Ugh. My panties are wet and sticky.”

His arm came around your waist and pulled you against him. “My car’s not that far. We could go back to my place.”

The thought of leaving with him reminded you of what he’d said not too long ago. “…Did you mean it? Or was that just heat of the moment talk?”

He looked into your eyes. “I’ve been in love with you since the first night you stayed over.”

“What?! Kyun, that was like the first month into this. There’s no way—” He cut you off with a kiss, this one sweet and tender as if he’d break you with his lips.

“I didn’t say anything because I remembered the rules. It seemed like you were okay with the way things were so I was okay with it. As long as I knew I was the only one you went to, I could live like that.” He looked into your eyes as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip before brushing over your hair. “Then suddenly you were gone without an explanation why…and I realized I didn’t want to let you go. Not without a good reason. So, yeah. I meant it. And just in case you don’t believe me, I love you. And I’d love you even without the sex. My heart is yours…so take care of it.” He gave you a shy yet bratty pout.

You blinked and fanned your face, turning away so he couldn’t see. “I’ll do my best. Um, so to your place?”

He threaded your fingers together. “Yup.” He pulled you along towards the street. “We can take a shower, drink some water, then work on getting another noise complaint from my neighbors.”

“What are you gonna do when your landlord finally kicks your ass out?”

He looked at you and smiled. “Look for a place to share with you.”

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