#lev ozdil

[asystolle]

HIGH POTENTIAL 2.14 | If You Come for the Queen

[dqrkhold]

𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐋𝐞𝐯 𝐎𝐳𝐝𝐢𝐥 𝐱 𝐌!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : After a long case, you and Oz join the team for drinks, but the tension between you is impossible to ignore. When you leave together, the restraint he’s held all night snaps the moment your apartment door closes. | drabble + porn without plot

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 + 𝐅𝐃𝐍𝐈 mature content below.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Smut, Dom!Male!Reader, Fluff, Sub!Oz, Moaning, Praising, Bondage, Handcuffs, Doggy, M!Reader (giving), Top!Reader, Swearing, Explicit Content, Cum, Dirty Talk.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

The team had wrapped up a grueling case, the kind that left everyone buzzing with adrenaline and ready to unwind. Beers flowed, laughter echoed, but your gaze kept drifting to Oz—his broad shoulders straining against his shirt, the way his jeans hugged his hips, and fuck, that ass. As the night wound down, you leaned in close to him amid the goodbyes. “Come tuck me in?” you murmured, your voice low enough for only him to hear. Oz's eyes darkened, and he nodded without hesitation. Your apartment was just a short cab away, the tension thick in the back seat. His thigh pressed against yours, heat radiating through the fabric. The second the door clicked shut behind you, Oz was on you—pushing you hard against the wall, his body pinning yours. His mouth crashed into your lips, messy and hungry, tongues tangling as he devoured you. You tasted the faint bitterness of beer on him, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss first, chest heaving, eyes locked on yours—dark, intense, pupils blown wide with want. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for his belt, the metal buckle clinking open. You mirrored him, grinning wickedly as you yanked at your own belt, the leather whipping free. He reached into his discarded jacket pocket, pulling out a pair of standard-issue handcuffs—the cool steel glinting under the low light. He dangled them from one finger, the chain swaying hypnotically, then dragged his tongue across his lips, slow and deliberate. “Fuck me while I'm cuffed?” he rasped, his voice gravelly, breath ghosting over your face. The words hit you like a punch, low and gravelly, sending a jolt straight to your groin. You nodded, throat tight, and surged forward to claim his mouth again. This kiss was fiercer, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you both stripped down in a frenzy—shirts hitting the floor, pants shoved off, until you were both naked.

“On the bed,” you ordered, voice rough with command. Oz obeyed, crawling onto the mattress on all fours, ass up and presented like a goddamn invitation. That ass—perfectly sculpted from hours in the gym, cheeks full and smooth, the cleft between them dark and inviting. You palmed it roughly, squeezing the firm flesh, watching it jiggle under your grip.“God, this ass,” you growled, landing a sharp smack that made him jolt forward, a hiss spilling from his lips.“Yeah? You like it?” Oz shot back over his shoulder, voice husky, hips rocking back for more.“Fucking love it. Been staring at it all night.” You smacked him again, harder, the skin blooming pink under your hand. “Cuff me,” he murmured, offering his wrists behind his back. You snapped the metal around them, the click echoing, locking his hands in place. He tested the hold, muscles flexing, a soft groan escaping as the restraint bit in.

You positioned yourself behind him, one hand gripping his hip hard enough to bruise, the other guiding your cock to his entrance. “You want this, Oz? Want me to fuck you like this?” you growled, teasing the head against him.“Fuck, yes—do it,” he demanded through gritted teeth, pushing back impatiently. “Pound me.” You thrust in, burying yourself. He was tight, hot, gripping you like a vice as he cried out, head dropping to the pillows. “Shit—yes, just like that.” His cuffed hands strained behind his back, fingers curling uselessly as you railed him, the bed creaking under the force.“Goddamn, you're tight,” you grunted, watching your shaft disappear into him over and over, stretching him wide. Sweat beaded on his skin, trickling down his spine as you fucked him. Oz moaned loudly, head dropping forward, his cock dangling hard and untouched between his legs, dripping onto the sheets. “Harder—fuck, yeah, like that,” he gasped, voice breaking on a whine as you angled to hit his prostate dead-on.

The pressure built fast, coiling in your gut. You felt him tighten further, his own cock leaking pre-cum onto the sheets, untouched and desperate. “Gonna cum,”you warned, thrusts erratic now. You pulled out at the last second, fisting your slick cock as you stroked hard. Hot ropes of cum splattered across his reddened cheeks, painting the abused flesh white, dripping down the crack. Oz shuddered, a whine escaping as he felt it hit, his own release hitting the bed without a touch—cock pulsing, spilling messily. Panting, you fumbled for the key, unlocking the cuffs with shaking hands. The metal fell away, and Oz's arms dropped, rubbing his wrists as he turned to face you. You pulled him into a deep kiss, slower now but no less passionate—lips bruised, tongues lazy and sated, tasting the salt of sweat on each other. “Next time, you're the one cuffed,” he murmured against your mouth, a sly grin breaking through.

You chuckled, nipping his lip. “Deal.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ~ @starboye @boypied @mysterymachine67 @magicstarbits @capsicleforever @loverclear @gayaristocrat @godjustkys @sluttyhusband @carnalcrows @amor-xoxo @loverboyisaac

© 𝐃𝐪𝐫𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔

[jackabbot]

HIGH POTENTIAL 2.02 • Checkmate

[janinegregory]

HIGH POTENTIAL 2.06 — Chasing Ghosts

[piiledrivers]

goodmorning HAPPY HIGH POTENTIAL DAY!!!!!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Soft

Pairing: sunshine!Lev "Oz" Ozdil x grumpy!fem!reader

Summary: You and Oz don't look like a typical couple. You're the grumpy to his sunshine, the cloud in his silver lining. But you're more in love than anyone could have guessed. Even the people expecting you to get married.

Warnings/Word Count: grumpy x sunshine trope, r is depicted as being goth/wearing alternative clothing, r gets objectified + protective!Oz reacts, accidental dirty joke, major crimes team is nosy, fluff, physical affection, discussion of marriage. 1.1k+ words, requested

Directory | High Potential Masterlist | Request Info | Taglist

You enter the kitchen with a groan, your hand shielding your eyes from the sunlight filtering into Oz’s kitchen.

“Good morning,” Oz greets happily. He pulls the collar of your oversized band tee up from where it had begun to slip off your shoulder. “I saved you the last donut with sprinkles,” he adds.

“Ugh,” you grumble, leaning forward until your forehead meets his shoulder. “It’s too early. And too bright.”

“So, you don’t want the donut?” Oz inquires, smiling as he slips his hand past the hem of your shirt to rub your back.

“’Course I want it,” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“You going back to bed?”

“No.” You straighten, your lips quirking up when Oz smiles at you. “I have some errands to run. Might as well get them over with early.”

“Anything fun?” Oz asks, holding your face.

“My favorite store is having a sale, so I might get a new outfit. Unfortunately, they’re boring errands like groceries and a stop at the bank.”

“Get the groceries delivered,” Oz encourages. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”

“I love you,” you hum.

“I love you more,” Oz counters.

He kisses your forehead, then nudges you toward the donut box on the counter while he turns to finish getting ready for work.

An hour later, you’re walking out of the house when you see Oz’s lunchbox on the counter. It’s probably past its prime, but he insists on continuing to use it because you doodled all over the bottom of it, black stars and leafy swirls.

“Gotta do everything around here,” you muse as you pick it up. “Eh... What’s another stop?”

You glance down to make sure your outfit looks okay, then lock the front door behind you and walk to your car.

“I never put the visitor’s badge on either,” the woman you share the elevator with confides. “Always clashes with my outfit.”

You nod, frowning at the sticker adhered to the back of your hand.

“Are you going to Major Crimes?” she asks.

“Yes,” you reply shortly.

“Cool. Me too.”

The rest of the ride is silent, you looking at your boots while the woman beside you steals glances at your reflection in the door. When you follow her off the elevator, she shoots Daphne a look, then tips her head toward you. It’s less than subtle, but you choose not to comment on it.

“Sweetheart!” Oz exclaims when you step into the bullpen.

“Sweetheart?” Morgan repeats incredulously.

“You forgot this,” you say, passing Oz his lunchbox.

“Thank you!” Oz takes it from you carefully, then sets it on his desk, and moves closer to you. “While you’re here, want to see Karadec?”

You tap the bobble head on Oz’s desk and shrug. Morgan watches you and Oz, shocked by the stark difference between the two of you. You turn first, walking toward Soto’s office. Oz trails behind you, watching you move.

“Okay, I’ve got some questions,” Morgan tells Daphne.

“You get used to it,” Daphne replies. “She’s a lot sweeter than she seems.”

“I tried to make small talk in the elevator, and she looked like she wanted to jump out,” Morgan hisses. “And then Oz is being super sweet to her and she just- she’s just standing there!”

“Stoicism doesn’t make her mean,” Daphne argues with a chuckle. “You of all people should know not to judge someone on their appearance, Morgan.”

“But, Oz,” Morgan continues, watching you greet Karadec with a terse nod. “He looks like he’s giving a whole lot more than he’s getting.”

Daphne pushes back from her desk and smiles. “You have no idea how wrong you are, Morgan.”

“Nice outfit,” an officer calls, smirking at you. “Is that a kids’ size?”

“Why?” Oz barks, standing behind the chair you’re sitting in. “Looking for one for the kids you’re supposed to be a role model for? Or did their moms finally come to their senses?”

“Easy,” you murmur, barely moving your lips.

“Sorry,” the officer adds, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Huh,” Morgan scoffs when the officer leaves.

She watches Oz give you a hand to help you up, and the smile that stretches across his face when you kiss his cheek in thanks. Your brows furrow as you wipe the remnants of your lip gloss of his skin with a murmured comment that makes him laugh.

“Maybe you weren’t entirely wrong,” Morgan admits to Daphne. “They are pretty cute together.”

“Wow, keep talking like that and they’ll ask you to give a speech at the wedding,” Karadec deadpans.

“They’re getting married?!” Morgan demands.

“Eventually,” Daphne answers. “We’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Morgan thinks I give you more than you give me,” Oz tells you.

You pull your black silk pajamas out of his drawer, where they reside tucked amongst his things. Looking back over your shoulder, you raise a brow.

“That supposed to sound dirty or am I just a lost cause?” you inquire.

“Oh, no, I hear it now, too,” Oz admits. “She’s wrong, though.”

“I give you enough?” you check.

Oz lifts his arm, smiling as you curl against his side. “More than enough.”

You kiss his jaw, then rest your head on his chest. “She doesn’t like me. Which, I know that I probably don’t look like I’d be with you. More accurately, you don’t look like you’d be with me. But I do love you. I hope you know that.”

“Of course I know that,” Oz promises. “And I think you look exactly like someone I’d love.”

“So, me grumbling and complaining and being the black cloud to your silver lining doesn’t bother you?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “My stoicism isn’t jading you to the beauty of life and butterflies and donuts?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answers, interlacing your fingers. “Especially because I know you love me as much as I love you. You and your grumpy outbursts and your cat-like tendencies.”

“Which makes you what? A golden retriever?”

“If that’s what you want,” Oz agrees.

You smile, kissing him again.

“They’re waiting for me to propose,” Oz tells you a few minutes later, his confession whispered against your shoulder.

“You think we’ll have a normal wedding?” you ask.

“No chance,” Oz answers immediately.

“Good,” you sigh, inching closer to him. “And if or when you’re ready to talk about that… I’m in.”

“Yeah?” Oz asks, shifting to see you better.

“Of course. You… you’re the bright spot I didn’t know I wanted, or needed, until you came along.”

“Sweetheart,” Oz mutters, “you’re getting soft.”

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” you grumble. “You’re not that good.”

“Sure.”

You both know he’s better.

Oz Taglist🏷️ @maialopez23 @kmc1989 @sogoodtoheritsvicious @hiireadstuff @amesayjpg @wh1sp @maxmayfieldswife @chelseyyouraverageluigi @xzaraparkox @waywardhunter95 @alohastitch0626 @xyrillekl @secretlifeofmarta @person-005 @geekyandnerdyy @redvelvetdreamscom @khrysty-arrlein @hoforfictionalmen-andwomen

[sotangledupinit]

hands up if you think oz’s mom secretly or not so secretly ships him and daphne like that’s her daughter-in-law

[daphozdil]

DAPHNE FORRESTER & LEV 'OZ' OZDIL HIGH POTENTIAL | 2.14 'If You Come For the Queen'