#The way I would fold for this man like a fucking newspaper
Note
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C0W6Z9vPXus/?igsh=MWZ1OTkwbjdjY2VyNA==
Tell me why I immediately thought this was Love showing off a wrapped like Carmilla to Ghost lol. Could also work for Goose and Ghost 💗
Ghost lays on the bed, scrolling through the morning news while he listens to the sounds of the flat. It's not often he's the last one up, but you'd insisted, Father's day and all that. He misses the morning routine, but he can stomach it for a day. Most of the morning is spent corralling a recently mobile cabbage anyway. He can hear her squeals of laughter and the patter of her little feet over the hardwood, and smiles to himself. He can hear you chasing after her as well, the quiet "get back here you little booger" and the slide of your feet making him switch his phone off.
The little feet disappear and he hears you cooing at the baby, well, toddler. You sound like you're getting closer. Ghost watches you carry your toddler through the bedroom door, wrapped in one of your fluffy blankets with her little curls a mess. Her eyes light up when she spots him, a big smile overtaking her little face, you look smugly proud of yourself for having wrangled the slippery little thing.
"Hi dada," Carmilla calls from her blanket burrito, her little voice melodic as any song Ghost's heard, and twice as charming. He can't help the snort of laughter that it draws from him, the same laughter he watches you giggle with. His sweet little girl. You walk closer to the bed and toss her onto the mattress. She bounces with an exaggerated, "Oof" before turning onto her stomach and crawling to lay her head against Ghost's chest.
"Good morning princess," Ghost rumbles, petting a big hand over her little head.
"You make b'eckfast?" She asks, her eyes wide and her smile hopeful. Ghost wraps his arms around her to pull her tight to his chest, leaning to kiss the top of her head as she giggles and struggles against his hug.
"'Course baby," He tells her, hauling himself and his daughter out of bed. He fixes her nighty as he settles her against his hip. "You want pancakes?" He asks, though he already knows the answer, an enthusiastic 'mhm' from the child in his arms, "Alright then, let's get you and Mummy some pancakes."
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#1fae1#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x oc#oc: love#oc: carmilla#fae!ghost#The way I would fold for this man like a fucking newspaper#dilf!ghost
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It's Called Murder, Baby!
A Scream x Stranger Things AU
Part II
Read Part I Here
Synopsis: A string of gruesome murders takes a toll on the small town of Hawkins. Friends and family start looking like suspects making it hard to trust those who you are closest to.
Chapter Summary: A killer is still on the loose with the whole town on edge. Was this a single incident or is there more to come? Hopper puts his foot down leaving things tense with you and Steve.
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
This work will contain elements of violent themes (depictions of crime scenes, murders, etc) and smut. This is a slasher fic!
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. AFAB!Reader. Graphic character deaths/murders - depictions of how they were found after the murder. Semi-Public Sex. Oral (m receiving). Pet names. Choking. Degradation. Smoking marijuana. P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.
Word Count: 5.3K
In all of Jim’s twenty plus years on the force, he thought he’d seen it all. Hawkins had its share of crime, but murder was never high on that list. The usually quiet town had only seen something of this caliber once before.
He was here 10 years ago when Principal Higgin’s was strung up by his feet and found hanging on the goal post at Hawkin’s High football field, sliced open from neck to navel like a freshly killed deer ready for processing. It was gruesome and bloody. They had never seen anything like it and hoped they’d never have to deal with something like it again.
The murders of Jason and Chrissy brought a whole new meaning to what he’d thought he’d seen.
Jason was found tied to a chair. He had been stabbed at least ten times before his throat ultimately slit. They were still unsure if he was already dead before his neck was reached.
Chrissy was found a few feet away, strung up by her feet. Rope tied to the second-floor landing, extending over the living room. In eerily similar fashion to that murder 10 years ago, she was also gutted.
It was as if Jason had been made to watch. This was brutal and seemed personal.
He had the file spread out across his desk, looking and relooking at all the evidence as he reached for another smoke. He’d been chain smoking since he’d left the crime scene this morning.
It was now well past two in the afternoon, and he was no closer to figuring this shit out. It was going to be a long night.
A knock came at his door followed by Deputy Callahan poking his head in.
“Yeah?” Came his gruff voice, already irritated by the younger man’s presence. Callahan was a constant pest.
“Hey Sheriff, uh, sorry to bother you, but I thought you might like to see today’s paper.” The shit eating smirk on his face told a different story.
Callahan waltzes over, handing him the latest edition.
He read the headline and briefly skimmed the article underneath.
“Meeting, now!” He finally huffed, reddened face on display. Callahan didn’t miss a beat.
“On it, sir.”
It wasn’t unusual to have an “emergency” meeting at the station, especially with the way the morning had gone.
Steve was settled at his desk, Robin was sitting across from him rambling about something he wasn’t paying much attention to, still too distracted by the evidence before him. Looking at it all as if he would magically see something they had missed.
Callahan hadn’t even bothered knocking, door opening with a crooked grin.
“Meeting, Sheriff’s office. Now.”
Robin looked at Steve and shrugged.
Everyone shuffled into the room, cramming into the corners trying to fit into the small office.
Hopper was unusually quiet, not meeting anyone’s gaze as they filed in. Steve immediately clocked the newspaper he had folded in his hand.
Powell was the last, closing the door behind him. As soon as it clicked into place Hopper spoke up.
“I don’t think I should have to remind you all how delicate a case like this is.” Everyone nodded in agreement as he finally looked around.
“Yes. Yes, sir. Yes, Sheriff.” Came from around the room.
“So, who the fuck talked to the press?” He threw the paper on the desk, unfurling to reveal the headline. His finger pinning it and pointing to your article.
Steve maintained his composure, but he wanted to rip his hair out. He hadn’t seen the paper yet, so he stepped up reading the contents, Robin shuffled right in beside him.
His jaw tightened. He hadn’t told you anything about the mask they had found.
A few more seconds ticked by. Steve finally stepped back catching Callahan looking straight at him, that same smirk plastered to his face from earlier.
Little Fucker, Steve thought.
Jim groaned as he sat back down, before finally speaking again. “Powell, Callahan. Get out and close the door.”
Wasting no time, quickly doing as they were told to make sure to stay on Hopper’s good side. Callahan skirted past Steve, smiling as he went. Steve was already seething with his fists clenched tightly to his sides. If looks could kill, the other would have been a dead man.
Robin clutched the paper reading it more carefully, as she took the seat in front of his desk.
Steve strolled up behind her, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Look,” Jim sighed, looking right at him. “I don’t care what the hell you do after hours but do not let it interfere with my investigation.”
“Hop,” Robin went to interject but was quickly cut off.
“Let me finish,” She snapped her mouth shut and nodded. “Unfortunately, I know it had to have been one of you. No one outside of this room knew about that goddamn mask.”
He let his words wash over them both. Robin’s shoulders sank as she sat further into her seat. He noticed Steve’s jaw clench.
“Callahan had a run in with her here today in the station. Care to explain?” He sat back, reaching for yet again for another smoke. Joyce would kill him if she knew how many he’d had today.
“Hop, I swear,” Robin was the first to crack, always was. “She just came in for a visit. We had coffee…” She trailed off when she felt Steve’s hand rest on her shoulder.
“She came in to talk to me,” Steve looked Jim in the eye as he spoke. “But I swear to God I didn't say a word about that fucking mask.”
Hopper sighed; he knew Steve would never undermine him like that.
He nodded. “No more press in the station until this shit is over. Not even her.”
“Yes sir,” they stated in unison.
“Ok then, who else could have known?”
Steve trudged out of Hopper's office in a huff, with Robin hot on his heels as she followed him back into his office, shutting the door behind them.
“Steve,” she started.
“Don't.” He sat down, with a sigh as he opened the folder once again in front of him and rubbed his hands down his face.
“You didn't tell her that, did you?” She asked quietly before taking the chair in front of him, eyes worrying over him. Surely, he wasn't that stupid?
“Of course not,” he scoffed, incredulously. “You know better than that.”
“Right, yeah, I know… but you two are… close.” She wouldn’t dare meet his eyes after it slipped out.
“Close, yeah. But I wouldn't jeopardize an investigation like that.” She nodded, as he got up wearily from his seat.
‘Hey, where are you going?” She shouted as he was halfway out the door.
“To get some answers.”
The copier was currently holding your paper hostage, as it got lodged in the rollers. Cursing the damn thing as you started the process of digging it out.
Nancy walked by just in time to see you struggling.
“There you are, heads up. Trouble is headed this way.” You looked over her shoulder in time to catch Steve's stern face looking right at you as he stepped through the door.
“Shit,” you breathed out.
She gave you a wry, pitying look before leaving you to it.
“Hey Steve, I…” you began, but he grabbed your bicep pulling you along with him, giving you no choice but to follow. He dragged you into the small conference room down the hall in which you two frequently met.
Only letting you go once you were both in, shutting the door. He was unusually quiet, eyes lingering down as if contemplating what needed to be said.
“So, I take it, you've seen the paper?” You asked softly.
He nodded, “Who told you about the mask?”
You knew it would come, but you were prepared.
“It was an anonymous source, and I took the chance.” You shrugged.
“Anonymous source? Who?” He narrowed his gaze, but you stood your ground, standing up a little straighter crossing your arms over your chest.
“I don't know, Steven, it was an anonymous tip. They didn't quite let me catch their name before they hung up.”
“Right, like you don't know. So why would you run it if you didn't know if it was true?” He stepped closer into your space.
“I just had a gut feeling. Looks like I was right if you're here.” Gesturing toward him.
He planted his hands on his hips, looking down his nose at you trying to look intimidating, only managing to turn you on instead.
“Yeah, and now Hop is on my ass thinking that I leaked it. You sure you didn't see something in that file on my desk?”
“And when would I have done that? While I was in your lap, and you were balls deep? You were there too. I didn't snoop in your fucking file.” You start turning away from him, tired of the questioning.
“Wait, look,” his hand wraps softly around your wrist, catching you from moving too far away from him.
“I'm sorry, I know you didn't snoop. This is just a big case, Hops worried about making sure it isn't fucked up.” You nodded, secretly relishing the way you could easily get him worked up and then he’s always the first to apologize.
“I know Steve, I wouldn't do something to compromise your job. You should know that.”
He absentmindedly bit his lower lip, his mind in overdrive once again.
“I've got to get back to the Station. I'll be there late tonight.”
He turned and headed back out into the newsroom. Turning heads as he went, permanent scowl etched onto his face.
It was getting late in the evening, around 8 pm. Eddie should have been by to pick you up at 6 but had called earlier saying he was running late.
“Sorry sweetheart, boss wants me to stay and finish up this last car that came in today.” He had said.
You were the only one left in the building. Nancy had offered to take you home, but you didn't want to be an inconvenience.
You were doing some research on another story Tom had assigned you, paying little attention to anything else around you.
The doors were locked. All the lights were low except the one still at your desk, head buried in a pile of copy you were looking over.
It was then you heard a sharp screech, as if a door creaked open making your head shoot up. You stood, walking slowly to the doorway leading to the back of the building, listening closely for any other sounds.
You rounded the corner that led to a narrow hall, and beyond that was the back of the building. There was only one exit door in the back, and you were sure that Tom had locked it on his way out.
“Hello? Is someone there?” You shouted down the darkened hall. No sounds or movements from that direction. Heart beating heavy in your chest as your eyes adjusted to see further into the dark but there was nothing and no one.
“Shit, get a grip.” You hissed to yourself.
You turned to go back to your desk, bumping into something very solid, as you jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise. His hand wrapping around your waist, steading you. Looking up into a familiar face with deep hazel eyes immediately calmed your now jangled nerves.
“Shit Steve, you didn’t have to sneak up on me.” Your heart still beating rapidly.
“I was checking the doors. The back was unlocked. Why aren’t you being more careful? There's still a killer on the loose.” He looked worried then, always caring about your well-being. He brushed the loose strands of hair behind your ear that had fallen after a long day, cupping your cheek in the process.
“Good thing I have a big, bad Sheriff to keep an eye out for me.” You smiled, as his gaze softened.
“Eddie coming to pick you up?” He whispered, inching closer to you. Crowding into you even further, closing the distance, pushing you into the wall as your back came to rest against it.
You nod. “He's just running a little late.”
“I’d never keep you waiting,” he mumbled against your lips, letting them finally meld into yours as you hummed in response, he let his other hand meet your hip, pulling you back into him.
“Stevie, I… I can't. He'll be here any minute.” You breathed out, pushing him away slightly.
He nodded, kissing your forehead tenderly before pulling completely away, immediately missing the warmth his body provided.
“Steve, wait, I'm sorry about the paper. Sometimes I just get ahead of myself and don't think about who else it might affect.” You placed your palm to his cheek, forcing his eyes on you.
Your other hand trailed the length of his shirt, past his belt, firmly cupping his bulge as he sucked in a sharp breath.
“I don't have a lot of time, but I could still make it up to you.” You whispered, looking up at him innocently.
“Let me make it up to you.” You gripped the front of his shirt, as he held out his hand to help lower you to the floor.
Your knees hit the hard linoleum with a small thump, as he allowed himself to bump into the wall behind him.
He looked down at you with an affection that suddenly made your chest ache. You were expecting lust, not his doe eyes sparkling in the low light.
He removed his duty belt, sitting it on the table to the side of you.
“Stevie, don't look at me like that.”
“Like what, honey?”
You looked ahead, choosing to ignore him instead, popping the button on his slacks and undoing his zipper slowly, his cock beginning to strain against his confinements as you reached into his briefs, fingers wrapping around the base. He let out a small moan, as he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall.
His cock kicked up with your touch, engorging further, growing to his full length before your eyes. You licked your lips as your mouth began to salivate.
You moved your hand up his velvety length, collecting the growing bead of pearlescent precum at his slit, letting your thumb slowly spread it across his head before bringing it back down.
“Fuck,” he moaned out, every touch sending electricity through his veins, as if he hadn't already been inside of you earlier today.
You held his base, and kitten licked at his head, eliciting more breathy moans as you began to kiss up and back down his hard cock at a torturous pace before finally wrapping your lips around his head, swirling your tongue and sucking lightly before taking as much of him into your mouth that you could fit. Slowly bobbing your head and then picking up the pace, working in tandem with the hand wrapped around the rest of him.
You gagged just a bit, when he nudged the back of your throat a little too hard from your own eagerness.
He looked back down at the sound, cupping your cheek gently, thumb softly caressing you,
“Hey, hey take it easy baby doll. Can't make a mess of this pretty little face right now. Just take it easy honey.”
You nodded, bobbing your head slowly once again.
“That's it baby doll. Slow and steady now.”
You free hand toys with his balls, rolling them deftly between your fingers.
“Oh shit, yeah. Just like that baby.” He cooed.
You speed up your movements on his length, feeling his sack tense and draw up a bit from the change in pace.
“That's it, baby doll, I'm about to cum already. Can I cum in that pretty mouth?”
You nodded as he grunted and spilled down your throat, relaxing a bit more so you could swallow as much as possible. The salty, tangy taste had you humming around him.
His cock twitched once more before stilling, as you moved off of him with a slight pop, wiping the drool and any of him that escaped down the side of your mouth. You wrapped your lips around your finger, licking it off, not letting a single drop go to waste.
“C’mere,” giving you his hand once again to help you up, winching as you felt the pain in your knees from being in the latter position.
“I…” you were about to speak, as headlights cut through the blinds, illuminating you both.
“Shit,” he hissed, drawing back, putting himself away and grabbing for his belt before securing it back around his waist.
“It's Eddie. He'll be ok for a few minutes.” You straightened your rumpled shirt, smoothing some errant stray hairs back into place.
You grabbed your purse, as he finished fixing his clothes.
“Come on, I'll have to lock up behind you. Walk me out.”
He followed closely, Eddie's eyes cut to the both of you upon exit, taking a slow drag of the cigarette held tightly between his lips.
He rolled down his window as you cut in front of the van to climb into the passenger seat.
“Evening Harrington,” he grinned. “Out on patrol?”
Steve glared, licking his lips before striding up the van, clearing his throat a bit.
“Eddie,” nodding toward the other man. “Just checking some doors around town. Y/N would forget her head sometimes.”
“Yeah,” he clicked his tongue, “yeah she would.” He looked over to you as you rolled your eyes back at him. You leaned over as he met you halfway placing a soft kiss to his lips.
“Thanks for checking on me Steve.” Throwing him a soft smile and wink, sitting back into the seat as your seatbelt clicked into place.
Eddie smirked, tapping his fingers against the top of the door. Steve caught sight of the newly formed bruises and scratches there.
“Yeah, Steve,” grabbing your hand from the console, pulling it in for a soft kiss, before turning back to him, “thanks for checking on my girl.”
“No problem. Nasty cuts you got there.” Nodding his chin toward them.
Eddie flexed his hand, “Yeap, caught it on a bitch of a radiator yesterday.”
Steve, growing tired of the awkward small talk, decided to take his leave.
“Well, you two be careful.” Patting the side of the van, turning back in the direction of the station.
“See ya’ around Stevie.” Eddie called out, chuckling loudly, sliding the gear shift into reverse, backing out from his spot.
“You don't have to be rude to him.” You scolded as he pulled out onto the road.
“He's just so easy to fuck with babe. I can't help it. Especially when he's so smug thinking you two are cheating behind my back.” He laughed deeply.
“He’s not smug about it. He worries about you catching us all the time.”
“Good. He should be.”
Eddie took a left, instead of the right back to your house.
“Where are we going?” You asked but he didn't answer right away, grin only growing wider, more devilish looking.
“Don't worry baby, it's a nice night for a drive. Thought we might go parking.”
“Parking, huh? Wanna do it in the back of the van, like in high school?” You comically lifted your brow. “How romantic.”
“I'm just kidding, unless you wanna?” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, that had you laughing.
It was always the little moments with Eddie. He'd know exactly how to make you laugh or quell your nerves after a long day. You trusted him wholly.
“I wanted to take you to a spot I found the other day. Wanted to share a joint and see where the night takes us.”
“You do know there's a killer on the loose, right?”
“You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. You're safe with me.” Somehow you knew he was telling the truth.
He took you further out of the main city, a few more twists and turns, you were thoroughly lost. Never one with a good sense of direction. Kicking your heels off and tossing them in the back, you got more comfortable, pulling your legs under you.
Asphalt turned into gravel, as he slowed to a roll, finally throwing the van into park at a clearing.
You looked out the windshield, it was a clear night. Moon brightly reflecting off of Lover's Lake, small waves cresting on the shore in front of you.
Though this wasn't a new spot like he'd said, it was your spot. You recognized the big tree directly by the lake.
“Surprise,” he sang out.
“This isn't a new spot, Eddie.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sue me.” He laughs, digging into the pocket of his jumpsuit, producing a pre-rolled joint, bringing it to his lips.
“You’ve been a naughty girl today.” Stating it matter-of-factly. Lighting the end, sucking lightly until he knows it's lit.
He looks at you, eyes hooded, dropping his voice a little deeper. “Haven't you sweetheart?”
His words ignited your core. You knew that tone well.
He offered it to you, taking it gingerly, bringing it to your own lips inhaling the sweet strain as he intensely watched your movements.
“And you,” pointing over at him, “have always been a very jealous boyfriend.”
He scoffs, taking it back from you, letting it wash over him.
“If I was jealous, I wouldn't let you whore around with him all over town.”
You laughed out, clear and bright as the weed began to flow through your system.
“Let's get one thing straight, you've never told me to do anything in this relationship. I do what I want.”
He slowly places the joint in the ashtray, and then moves quickly before you have time to react, pinning you by the throat pushing you into the passenger seat, rings biting into the tender flesh. You gasped out, reaching up to grab his hand.
“Sweetheart, maybe it's time to put that mouth to some good use.” He whispered close to your ear.
“Maybe I already did.” You grinned wickedly at him.
“You little whore, kissing me with that mouth after his cock’s been shoved halfway down your throat?” His fingers tightened, as you nodded.
“Bet his cum’s still lingering on your tongue. Huh?”
“Mmmmm, yeah baby. He finished right before you pulled in to pick me up.”
He removed his hand from your throat to pinch your cheeks harshly, forcing your lips into a sweet pout, as he roughly brings his lips to yours, you close your eyes, humming in contentment.
You felt him smirk against you, pulling back slightly, “You’re fucking filthy baby. How'd I get so lucky? Hey, look at me.” You snapped your eyes open to see his own blown wide with lust, so dark they were almost black.
“Get in the back. Take your clothes off.”
You didn't hesitate, as he finally released you, climbing over the console as quickly as you could. He picked up what was left of his joint, inhaling deeply, letting it sit in his lungs a moment before exhaling.
Eddie kept the back of the van clean, a spare blanket folded into the corner just for occasions like this to save your knees or ass from a wicked carpet burn. You had learned from experience.
You carefully unfolded it and smoothed out the edges. He was still smoking and concentrating on the water beyond the window, like his mind was elsewhere.
Unbuttoning your blouse, and quickly shimmying out of your skirt leaving you in just your panties and bra you laid down, awaiting your next instruction.
“I said take your clothes off. That means everything.” He spoke without looking back.
You quickly shed the offending articles.
“Good girl.” He purred, finally facing you to get a good look.
“Open your legs, yeah, that's it baby.” He had a perfect view of your cunt, untouched but already dripping.
“Go ahead, touch yourself f’me.” Slowly reaching down between your thighs, taking some slick from your leaking hole, bringing it back up as you slowly start to draw circles around your clit.
“Oooooh, Eddie,” you moaned, throwing your head back at the feeling, already worked up from sucking Steve off.
“Eyes on me baby.” You look up just in time to see him pushing his coveralls past his hips, his cock straining his boxers. He pulled those down slightly, freeing his already hard cock.
It had you licking your lips at the sight. He didn’t quite have the girth that Steve does, but he was just a little longer, with a slight curve upward.
He spit in his hand before wrapping it around the base, hissing out, sliding it up and back down, setting a slow pace as he watched you torturously toy with your bundle of nerves.
“That's it sweetness, go ahead finger fuck that tight pussy.” Moving your fingers down, you easily slid two in, whining out and arching your back. You began to rock your palm into your clit as your fingers slid in and out.
“Bet you wish that was my cock instead? Huh?” You nodded, mouth going slack at the feeling as another whine escaped but you needed more. You needed him.
“Please, Eds. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.”
“Jesus, you are a greedy whore. Two of your holes stuffed already today and you still want more?” He chuckled but opened his door exiting to move around to the back. He didn’t intend to leave you hanging. He needed your cunt wrapped around him just as much as you needed him to fill you.
The back doors opened with a flush of cold air, as he quickly worked to push his coveralls down climbing in to meet you, shutting the door behind him. He removed his shirt and threw it in the corner to meet your own pile of clothes.
You turned yourself around to face him, as he crawls in-between your thighs, pushing them further apart as he made his way up.
He trailed hot, open mouth kisses along your sternum before turning his attention to your pebbled nipples. Quickly drawing one into his mouth, sucking sharply. Palming your neglected breast with his free hand.
“Oh Eddie,” you thread your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip on his curls when you feel him bite down.
“Oh fuck!” You squealed, as he releases his mouth, bringing it to the other repeating the same motions.
He continued his journey upward, laving his tongue up your breasts, neck and jaw.
His arms finally cage you in, as his body pushes you further into the floor. You wrap your legs around his lithe waist, as he pushes his hips down, rolling them into yours letting his cock brush through your folds.
“Eddie, please.” You gripped his shoulders, throwing your head back as his ruddy tip nudged your clit, sending sparks through your core and up your spine.
“Eddie, please.” He mocked, high pitched and whiny. His lips kissed up your jaw as he found the shell of your ear. “Such a needy little whore.”
He braced himself with one arm by your head, taking his length with the other bringing his leaking tip to your entrance.
He caught your entrance and slightly pushed in, but it already has you arching into him. He watches himself slowly disappear into your tight heat, inch by inch.
“Fuck, baby. She's sucking me in. So, fucking tight.” He lowers his forehead to yours savoring the sensation for a moment, before he quickly grips your thigh, pushing it higher onto his hip as he's pulling almost all the way out, just to sink straight back in.
“Oh fuck… mmmmm… Eddie.”
He rocks his hips back and forth, setting a now brutal pace that has you both moaning and crying out.
He then ceases his movements momentarily, pulling up slightly, only to push your knees to your chest. The new angle has him reaching impossibly deeper as he begins giving you long, slow strokes. It’s his favorite view. Your tight cunt swallowing him whole. He can barely tear his eyes away.
“Fuck, look at you. Already so drunk on my cock and she's taking me so well.” Now watching your fucked out face. Eyes closed, heard thrown back and mouth slack with moans and expletives spilling out.
His words spur that flame within you, only burning hotter with each drag of his cock along your frontal wall. Your pussy flutters around him.
He lifted up, placing his hand around your throat, picking up his pace once more. Grip growing tighter with every thrust. You expect finger shaped bruises to be blooming in the morning.
The sounds of skin slapping skin along with the moans pulled from you and the grunts from Eddie fill the back of the van. You were getting close as your cunt pulsed around his thick, fat cock.
“I can feel her baby, she's getting tighter. You need to cum huh? Tell me who's pussy this is. And I’ll let you cum.”
He loosened his grip so you could speak.
You gasped as the newly found air entered your lungs, “It's yours Eddie, she's all yours.”
“That's… fucking… right.” Punctuating each word with a thrust. He moved his deft fingers down your body, resting for a moment on your mound, before his thumb began rubbing harsh circles to your clit.
“I know you're close. Cum with me baby.”
It only took a few more thrusts, with his thumb never ceasing its movements, you were coming undone. Your pussy clamped down around him with such a force it almost pushed him out.
“Oh fuck, Eddie!” You cried out as your orgasm hit with a blinding force. Your toes curled, as your whole body felt like a livewire.
“Goddamn, baby. You're strangling me.” He hissed out.
He regained his composure, pounding into you, chasing his own high. A few more sloppy pumps and he will spilling into you, thick ropes of his release filling you to the brim.
“Fuck baby.” He kissed your forehead as you caught your breath.
“Fuck, Eds.” You giggled.
He pulled his softening cock from you, watching as some of his spend leaked from you.
“What a beautiful site,” he whispered, moving out of your space to retrieve your underwear, sliding them back up your legs to keep the mess contained then leaning down to place a kiss on your mound. Such a tender gesture.
“Sorry, I don't have anything to clean you up baby.” Kissing your knee as you bent up to retrieve your clothes.
“It's ok Eds, we'll shower when we get home.” You cupped his cheek as he nuzzled into your palm briefly. You both dressed and got back into the front seats.
He headed home at a leisurely pace, both content to ride in the peace and quiet of the night.
You watched the streetlights pass, growing more frequent the closer you got into town.
You'd only passed one other vehicle on the way back in. Hawkins was on edge, houses shut tight and barely any lights to be seen. It was eerie to say the least. All hoping this was a single incident, but a killer was still on the loose.
He slowed at a stop sign, before making the turn back to your house and in the distance, you saw the glow of cruiser lights.
“Oh great, what now?” He huffed. Your attention already trained ahead.
“I don't know, but I've got a really bad feeling.”
He slowly rolled past the scene. Two cruisers and the medical examiners van were parked out front of one of the newer homes on Elm Street.
“Doesn’t Chase Owen live there?” You asked.
“How the hell should I know baby, haven’t heard from that asshat since high school.”
There was a deputy stationed out front, he waved the van through. Trying to quickly get rid of any rubberneckers that dared to pass by.
You caught his eyes, Steve, looking at you with this unreadable expression as he quickly looked away.
You would come to realize Jason and Chrissy were just the warmup.
Soon, the body count would rise, and it was going to get messy.
@barbedwirebats I know you wanted to be tagged!
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Love to Hate (Extra Scene IV: Jungkook’s POV)
Author: kpopfanfictrash
Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader
Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.
Author’s Note: This scene takes place after the Epilogue of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. There is no corresponding scene from Y/N’s POV. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be many spoilers lol).
Rating: 18+
Warnings: some dirty talk, but not actual sex
Word Count: 4,605
“There’s no way that man is single.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I mean, look at him.” The woman behind Jungkook sighs. “A face like his? With a body like that? Wearing a suit that costs more than my rent? Yeah, no way someone hasn’t locked him down.”
A loud, jarring slurp signals the end of a drink. “I don’t know,” says the other woman. “I feel like that suit is the exact reason he has to be single. No guy that rich or hot would ever marry so young.”
Lifting his newspaper, Jungkook hides a smile. Seated outside the sole coffee shop in Terminal C, he’s been nursing his Americano for the better part of an hour. Jungkook’s own fault for arriving at the airport early. Your plane wasn’t scheduled to land until one, but he wanted to be here in case.
Jungkook can practically hear your laughter in his mind. “In case what?” you’d tease. “In case the plane has an extra engine to help break the sound barrier? Or multiple people parachute out, giving us an extra boost?”
“Both of those things,” Jungkook would answer with a straight face. You’d shake your head, amused at having married someone so ridiculous and –
Clearing his throat, Jungkook forces himself to focus. What’s ridiculous is the fact that he daydreams about his wife when you’ve only been gone for three days. Although that’s three days too long, in Jungkook’s unbiased opinion.
Giving up on pretending to read, Jungkook lowers the paper to pull his phone from his pocket. Searching the screen, he sees nothing but the text you sent twenty minutes ago.
Y/N: Landed 😘 see you soon! [12:54 PM]
Nothing since then, and Jungkook frowns as he pushes a hand through his hair.
“See,” hisses the same woman behind him. “No ring!”
“That’s his right hand, Lauren.”
“Oh.”
Stifling laughter, Jungkook drains the rest of his coffee to push himself to stand. Folding the newspaper under one arm, he pats the front of his suit jacket to check for his wallet. Satisfied, he turns and casually lifts a brow.
Both women do an admirable job of pretending they haven’t been staring for the past fifteen minutes. Clearing his throat, Jungkook waits for one to look up from their phone.
“Married,” he says, lifting a hand to display his wedding ring. “Happily so. Have a good day, ladies.”
With that, he turns to stride across the floor. As he leaves, Jungkook hears a groan of embarrassment followed by bursts of laughter. Tossing his paper into the recycling, Jungkook stops at the flight board to confirm your landing.
The board says your flight reached the gate fifteen minutes ago, which causes Jungkook to frown. Usually, you’re the first off the plane and have reached him by now. Turning around, Jungkook scans the baggage claim and wonders if you’re there. Unlikely. You don’t usually check a bag for a trip of three days.
Stepping away from the board, Jungkook narrowly misses being run over by a man on a scooter. He’s about to call your cell phone when a fresh wave of people walks from the exit. Hurrying in this direction, Jungkook peers through the crowd and immediately spots your red coat – hand-selected by Mia, your daughter.
Even at five years old, Mia is a force to be reckoned with. Her opinions tend to be law, much to your despair. Spoiled by her father, you’ve sighed and Jungkook doesn’t deny it. He can admit when he’s the guilty party.
Lifting a hand, Jungkook is about to wave when he notices your expression and falters. Usually, that look on your face means you’re about to explode. Slightly alarmed, Jungkook searches for the culprit and pauses on a man walking at your side.
Tall, dark haired and handsome. Oddly familiar, although Jungkook can’t pinpoint why.
Usually, it amuses Jungkook to no end when other people hit on you. He enjoys the quiet security in knowing you’ll (politely) turn them down and return to Jungkook. A fact he takes pleasure in reminding you of later that night, spread out beneath him while you writhe in pleasure.
This time is different though because this time, you’re not smiling. Jungkook watches while your jawline tightens, yet another indication of your clear discomfort. Wheeling your carry-on, you nod silently at something the stranger is saying.
The moment the crowd thins, you spot Jungkook and brighten. This immediate contrast makes Jungkook’s gaze harden, moving once more to the man by your side. There are few people in this world who could make you – his ferocious wife – uncomfortable, and all of them reside on his personal shit list.
Your walking companion notices Jungkook at the same time, slowing his steps until he comes to a halt. Still, he doesn’t leave and Jungkook stamps down annoyance while crossing the hall. Soon, he’s within hearing distance and what he does overhear makes his stomach drop.
“… it’s just been so long, Y/N. I barely recognized you! Imagine, if I’d taken that later flight – or, God forbid, been forced to ride in economy.”
“Imagine,” you say flatly. The look on your face could easily be misconstrued as pleasant but Jungkook knows you well enough to know you’re screaming inside.
His lips twitch as he nears since clearly, your walking partner doesn’t.
“I feel like it’s a sign,” the man says, moving closer. When he reaches for your arm, Jungkook stiffens. “Running into you after so many years, like this. I always felt that–”
Immediately, you yank your arm back. “You thought what?” you demand. “That I’d forget about everything you did, Kameron? That it’d all disappear? That I wouldn’t have moved on with my life by now?”
Kameron’s gaze darkens, dipping briefly to your left hand. “Is this about… him?” he asks, barely audible.
Forcing his feet to stop, it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself out of it. You’d never forgive Jungkook if he rode in on his white horse to save you. You’re more than capable of handling one shitty ex-boyfriend.
Because that’s who this man is and why Jungkook finds him familiar – this is Kameron, your ex and recently promoted CEO of Moore Holdings. Jungkook has actually met him once before, although that was before the two of you started dating. He disliked Kameron back then; a dislike which deepened to hate once he heard your backstory.
Hands clenched into fists, Jungkook concentrates on feeling the bite of his nails on his palms. At least, he does until you glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze with a pleading look. In a single stride, Jungkook has reached you and is extending his hand.
“Hello,” he says, waiting for Kameron to shake. With his other arm, Jungkook pulls you into his side. “Thank you for escorting my wife from her flight.”
You relax against him, and Jungkook’s barely contained anger bubbles beneath the surface. Your expression doesn’t shift, but Jungkook can feel the subtle change in your body. It’s the same way he feels whenever you stand beside him, offering support he didn’t know he needed.
One of Jungkook’s favorite memories is the time he ran into Liam Jessen at a conference and you politely told Liam you’d carve his eyeballs out with a spoon if he didn’t leave before lunch. He disappeared. Swiftly. Even Jungkook was chilled by your tone, and he swears up and down later that night was when your son, Jae, was conceived.
Narrowing slightly, Kameron’s gaze moves to Jungkook. He can practically see the wheels turning in your ex’s mind – the ring on your finger, his introduction as his wife – and gradually, Kameron’s expression tightens.
Jungkook lifts a brow. While you’re more than capable of handling people, Jungkook knows you haven’t seen Kameron since the night you broke up. Somehow, you managed to avoid meeting over the years – until now. Granted, that was years ago and you’ve moved on since then, but Jungkook knows better than others how some wounds can linger.
A lone muscle tics in Kameron’s jaw. “Hey,” he says, extending his hand to shake. “Kameron Moore. CEO of Moore Holdings.”
Gripping him tightly, Jungkook says, “Jeon Jungkook. Y/N’s husband and CEO of Jeon Energy.”
Jungkook sees your lips twitch, the way they always do when he introduces himself as your husband first. It’s true, though – Jungkook would sell his company tomorrow if it meant keeping you.
Hearing his name has the desired effect and Kameron’s eyes widen. He tries to withdraw his hand, but Jungkook holds on, squeezing even tighter before letting go.
Casual, he takes a step backwards and reaches for your bag. Wheeling this to one side, Jungkook taps his fingers against the handle.
It isn’t often Jungkook pulls the name card but in moments like this, his surname feels almost worthwhile. Despite meaning nothing to him, Jungkook knows the name Jeon means a lot to people like Kameron.
“I – oh.” For a moment, Kameron seems as though he swallowed something bitter. His gaze darts to you. “I didn’t realize… your name was Y/N Y/L/N on your boarding pass, so I just assumed…”
“You just assumed what?” Jungkook says calmly. “That her marriage was a sham? That she wore a wedding ring to deter people from hitting on her? Even if that were true,” he adds, his expression stony, “that’s awfully bold to assume such a rule wouldn’t apply to you.”
Kameron bristles. “Y/N and I have a history, if you must know.”
“Oh, he knows,” you say drily, answering for him. Turning to Jungkook, you place a hand on his Kiton suit. “I’ll take it from here, babe.”
Inclining his head, Jungkook takes a step backward. He’s pleased to see the fire returned to your eyes – admittedly, this signal bodes poorly for Kameron. Jungkook would feel bad for him if Kameron weren’t the reason for half your trust issues.
“My husband is right,” you say with a smile. “Even if my ring were fake, what makes you think I’d want to talk to you?”
Floundering slightly, Kameron opens and shuts his mouth.
“Exactly,” you say, not waiting for a response. “I was polite to you during the flight. I sat across the aisle even though I was uncomfortable. I even engaged in small talk after putting my headphones in. Never mind that I only slept for three hours to get home early for my family. I tried to be nice to you,” you insist, lifting a brow. “But clearly, that was futile.”
Jungkook can feel a smile spreading over his face. It’s in moments like these when he’s infinitely glad you two are on the same team. And that you mostly use your powers for the good of humanity.
“Let me make something perfectly clear,” you continue. “Even if I weren’t happily married with kids, I’d have no interest in seeing you. Our relationship isn’t something I look back on fondly. I would say I hope you’re doing well but really, I don’t. Moore Holdings is a predatory and shitty excuse for a company. I hope it goes under. Stay healthy, I guess,” you say with a shrug. Turning to Jungkook, you hold out your arm. “Shall we?”
Jungkook just nods, slipping his hand through your own to head for the doors. He doesn’t spare a backwards glance but is sure if he did, he’d find your ex-boyfriend left speechless. You tend to have that effect on people.
Gripping your carry-on bag, he wheels this towards the pick-up lane at Terminal C. Your driver is waiting, idling at the curb.
Stepping outside, you pause and tip your head back. “God,” you groan, before starting to laugh. “What a mess.”
Handing your bag to your driver, Jungkook steps closer and places his hands on your arms. Tugging you towards him, he watches your eyes open.
“Hey,” he says, smiling downward.
“Hi.” Softly, you return the gesture. “Can I just say you’re a sight for sore eyes? I was stuck with that asshole for five hours, listening to him brag about a conference he just spoke at for two hundred people.”
Jungkook can’t hide his smirk. “Little did he know, he was bragging to EnergyCon’s keynote speaker.”
You lightly scoff, but he can tell that you’re pleased. EnergyCon is the largest energy conference in the country and the site of your latest work trip. You led two days of seminars before finishing the week by giving the keynote address. Clean Ocean has never been a small organization, but recent successes have shot your message to the forefront of the industry.
Still, Jungkook scans your face for any sign of discomfort. Although you seem okay, he knows better than most how old scars can linger.
“I’m fine,” you say softly, reading his mind. “Promise.”
Giving a small smile, Jungkook steps back to open the car door. “You can’t blame me for worrying,” he says as you slide inside. “Are you sure? You don’t have to pretend.”
“I know,” you muse. “It’s strange, really. I’ve thought about it before – what I would say to Kameron if I ever saw him again.”
“Oh?” Following your lead, Jungkook shuts the car door. “And what was the plan? Fiery vengeance? Complete cold shoulder?”
Laughing a little, you set your purse down. Resting your head on the seat, you turn sideways to face him. Jungkook takes your hand again, unable to let go for too long.
“I thought about both,” you admit. “But then I saw Kameron, and everything flew out the window. Everything I’d planned to say seemed suddenly… silly isn’t the right word. Unimportant? There’s a part of me that will always be angry at him for what he did. And with myself, for letting him.”
Jungkook’s frown deepens when the car pulls from the curb. “I don’t think you let him do anything, Y/N.”
Thoughtful, you nod. “I guess. Anyways, Kameron started talking and it just became clear to me that he hadn’t changed. At all. Kameron cares so much about what others think of him. He needs validation from everyone, which is honestly exhausting. It just made me think that even if he hasn’t changed, I have. Which seems like a fitting ending.”
Jungkook’s lips quirk. “Plus, you know, you got to tell him his company was shit.”
At this, you let out a laugh. “Yeah, that was pretty great. Turns out, I’ve only matured to a point.”
“I like that point,” Jungkook says, using your hand to tug you closer. Draping your legs over his thighs, he removes your shoes to set on the floor. “I also don’t agree that maturity means always turning the other cheek. Sometimes, it means standing up for yourself. Or… for example, telling an asshole when they are one.”
Your laughter becomes a groan when Jungkook presses his thumb to the ball of your foot, and he glances to ensure the partition is up. Slumped against the leather seat, you squint at Jungkook in suspicion.
“What do you want?” you grumble.
He flashes an innocent smile. “What makes you think I want something?”
You struggle to sit up, failing halfway and sinking. “Because you’re using pressure points against me – oh,” you exhale when he kneads your foot.
Deftly, Jungkook continues to work on your arches. “Maybe what I want is for my beautiful wife to relax after her flight.”
You snort. “And?”
“And…” Jungkook pauses, then sighs. “How do you always know?”
“Call it mother’s intuition.”
“Unfair. All I got as a dad was bad hearing.”
“Don’t forget your vision,” you say helpfully. “That’s gotten worse, too.”
Jungkook shoots you a look that makes you giggle before pulling you closer. “Come here,” he growls, wrapping his arms around you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he exhales, “I missed you.”
He feels when you soften. “I missed you too, baby.”
A long moment passes, and then –
“But you’re not going to make me forget. What happened?”
Lips twitching, Jungkook pulls away. “Nothing happened,” he insists. “Or nothing bad happened. I may have forgotten to send Jason a birthday gift like you asked. I’ll send one tonight! As soon as we get home.”
“That’s okay,” you murmur, smoothing your thumb over his cheekbone. “I knew you’d forget, so I already sent one.”
Jungkook’s jaw drops.
Seeing his face, you start to laugh. “What?”
“Betrayal!” he blurts.
“You forgot!” you protest, lowering your head to rest on his shoulder.
“I know,” Jungkook huffs. “Very sneaky of you.”
“Jason would’ve been despondent if his favorite brother-in-law missed his birthday. I’m just trying to protect you, here.”
“I’m his only brother-in-law, babe.”
“Exactly. Doubly tragic if you forgot.”
Jungkook laughs, slipping two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your face to his. Brushing your lips with a kiss, he feels familiar heat spread down his spine. Your lips part beneath his, tongue flicking in a way that sends blood to his cock. Dropping his head, Jungkook begins to kiss down your throat.
When he bites down, you shudder and your hands fist in his jacket. Jungkook’s grip tightens on your waist when you moan his name. Returning to your mouth, he nips your lower lip before soothing it with a kiss.
“Jungkook,” you pant, gripping the base of his hair.
“Yeah?”
His hand roams your spine, relearning your body. Only three days and still, he’s missed you. Missed the sound of your sleep beside his, your laughter in the morning and wry looks exchanged over weird things the kids do.
Your exhale is shaky. “We should stop,” you murmur, gaze fixed on his lips.
Jungkook smirks. “Should we?”
“Yeah.”
“And why is that?”
“Because.” Torn, you glance forward. “We’re on our way to get the kids, and there’s no way we have time to do everything I want before then.”
Despite the situation in Jungkook’s pants, he’s forced to agree. As appealing as car sex sounds right now, Seokjin and Yoongi’s home isn’t far from the airport. Falling backwards, Jungkook exhales to blow hair from his face.
Laughing a little, you smooth the strands away. “Where are the kids, anyways?”
Eyes wide, Jungkook glances around the backseat. “Oh, shit. I knew I forgot something.”
“Ha-ha. The real answer?”
He chuckles. “They’re with Seokjin and Yoongi.”
Your brows shoot upward.
“Yoongi is the primary caretaker,” Jungkook assures. “Seokjin is more of… entertainment.”
“Perfect,” you sigh, returning your head to his shoulder. “I told Mia the type of karaoke machine Seokjin has only works in their neighborhood, but I don’t think she bought it. We might have to get her one for her birthday.”
Jungkook shakes his head, resting his hand on your knee. “She’s too smart for her own good, you know. Takes after you.”
“Sure does. Except Mia has a beautiful voice and I have the singing ability of a drunk walrus.”
“Are they known for their singing, or…?”
“Nope. Mustaches get in the way.”
Jungkook laughs, turning to press a kiss to your brow. “Later, though,” he murmurs, dropping his voice. “Once the kids are asleep, I plan to make up for these nights apart. Who knows? Maybe we’ll create that third kid we’ve talked about.”
Mischievous, you glance upward. “I don’t know… you’d have to put in some serious work for that to happen.”
Lifting a brow, Jungkook’s grip on you tightens. “I think I did a pretty good job of getting you pregnant with the first two.”
“Mm, but that was ages ago,” you sigh, head tipping backwards when Jungkook kisses your neck. “Back then, you were so young and spry. Now, you wear sensible shoes to the gym. Do you really think you have the stamina?”
“We’re in a moving vehicle,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “Which is the only reason I’m not fucking you to prove you wrong. Bet your pussy is wet just thinking about it, huh? Want me to spread these pretty legs and check, princess?”
Your breath hitches, chest rising and falling as his grip slides up your thigh. Jungkook brushes close to your center, maddeningly close and still not enough. Some people say desire diminishes with age and in some respects, Jungkook understands. That initial, frantic burst of sex diminishes but Jungkook doesn’t view it as a bad thing. That burst is replaced by trust, the knowledge that physical intimacy isn’t a replacement for intimacy of all kinds.
Not that the physical intimacy is gone, of course. That connection Jungkook feels when you touch him remains unchanged. A single look does more to turn him on than anyone else ever has.
Lifting a hand, you cup his jaw and scan his face. “Unfair,” you complain. “Unfair for you to get better-looking with age when you were already hot to start. You know, I overheard some moms at Mia’s preschool calling you a DILF the other day.”
Jungkook tries, and fails, to hide his grin. “Oh, really?” he asks, returning his lips to your neck. “And what do you think, Y/N? Am I a dad” – his teeth scrape your throat – “you’d like” – his grip on your thigh tightens – “to fuck?”
“Yes,” you groan, arching into him. “Fuck. I mean, who am I to judge those moms for their impeccable taste? I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, so it’s really their loss.”
“Besides,” Jungkook adds. “You’re one to talk. Every time we go somewhere with the kids, I leave for one second and am forced to fend off all your admirers when I return.”
“What can I say? People know a good thing when they see it.”
“So do I,” he growls, low in your ear. “Which is why I proposed six months into dating. Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m messing this up.”
“I know. Me neither.”
Jungkook stares at you, silently warring with an internal dilemma. “I planned this all wrong,” he admits on a sigh. “I should’ve told Seokjin and Yoongi you landed at three.”
A laugh escapes as you open your eyes. “No, this is better. You know me – I want to see our babies.”
“Not babies anymore,” Jungkook says mournfully. “Jae turns two next month.”
“I know.” Drily, you arch a brow. “Having had the pleasure of pushing him out myself. And they’ll always be my babies. They’ll just have to deal.”
“Well.” Jungkook kisses your forehead. “At least they’ll have something to talk about in therapy.”
Huffing a laugh, you lightly punch his shoulder. Jungkook grabs you halfway, intertwining your hands for the rest of the trip. Despite what you said, it’s been a long trip and a few minutes later, you’re asleep on his shoulder. Pulling into the drive, Jungkook debates whether to wake you but decides you’d be more upset if you missed the kids.
“Wake up, princess,” he murmurs, unbuckling your seatbelt. “We’re here.”
Sleepily, your eyes open and you stare at the house visible through the side window. “Oh!” you blurt as you straighten. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Mhm,” Jungkook says, grabbing your purse. “You needed it. Do you want to stay in the car while I get the kids?”
“Nope,” you scoff, already opening your door. “Don’t you dare.”
Shaking his head, Jungkook follows you up the drive to Yoongi and Seokjin’s home. It’s a beautiful, contemporary style house built into the cliffs overlooking the ocean. For this very reason, Jungkook has barred Mia from playing outdoors but has the sneaking suspicion Seokjin lets her anyways. He’s a sucker for Mia’s big eyes and quivering lower lip.
Reaching the entrance, you ring the bell and stand back at the sound of thundering footsteps. The front door flings open.
“MOMMY!”
Jae is the first one outside, tripping over himself to reach you. Luckily, you catch him before he can fall. “Hi, munchkin!” you gush, swinging him upwards. “You’re getting so, so big! Did Yoongi feed you dessert for breakfast again?”
This last sentence is followed by a look at Yoongi, who’s appeared in the doorway. Yoongi shrugs, crossing his arms to lean against the frame.
Shaking his head, Jae wraps his tiny fingers around your wrist. “Nooo. He said that’s bad. Mommy, what’s ‘adult time?’”
Freezing, you glance once more at Yoongi, who seems momentarily flustered while searching for what to say.
“Uh… I’ll take Jae,” Jungkook says, hastily reaching out to transfer him to his hip. The look on your face has turned slightly ominous. “Adult time is the time when adults hang out and do adult things. Right, Yoongi?” he adds, widening his eyes.
“Uh, right.” Yoongi bobs his head. “That’s correct.”
“Oh.” A tiny wrinkle forms in Jae’s brow. “The adults play games?”
“Lots and lots of them,” Jungkook says, tossing a wink in your direction.
Rolling your eyes, you step through the front door, but Jungkook can tell that you’re smiling. “Where’s Mia?” you call.
“In the basement with Seokjin.”
Following suit, Jungkook glances around the vaulted foyer. A few years ago, when Yoongi bought this place, the walls were full of his trophies and Seokjin’s travel mementos. Now, they’re pseudo-uncles to both their kids and Hoseok’s, forcing them to baby-proof in each way imaginable. Breakable items are set on high shelves, sharp corners are sanded down and electrical sockets are covered.
As they head for the basement, Jungkook sees a black shape slink around the corner.
Reaching upward, Jae grabs the shell of Jungkook’s ear. “Mr. Whiskers is mean,” he attempts to whisper, but comes out at normal volume.
Mr. Whiskers is the name of the cat Yoongi has had for over ten years and is famously standoffish with anyone that’s not his owner.
Yoongi’s lips twitch. “He’s just scared we’ll like you better than him, Jae,” he offers. “And he should be! At least you tell us when you’ve gone poop.”
Jae giggles at the word poop, causing Jungkook to mock-gasp and cover his son’s ear. Following you to the basement, Jungkook stops short at the base of the stairs.
Mia and Seokjin are singing karaoke – again – but this time they’ve added make-up and costumes. Glitter has been smeared over Mia’s cheeks and she dances around the room in a neon blue tutu. Seokjin is similarly bedazzled, pink dotting each temple and every time his hair shakes, more glitter falls out. The song is a pop song that overplayed on the radio but despite this, Jungkook can’t help but grin.
Spinning around, Mia spots you mid-twirl. “MOMMY!” she cries, the sound reverberating when she forgets she’s holding the microphone. Dropping this on the ground, Mia launches herself around the couch and into your arms.
“Hi, baby!” you laugh, bending down for a hug.
Mia presses her cheek to your leg, glitter rubbing off on your pants, but you don’t seem to mind. Eyes closed, you hug her back as you rock to and fro.
Jungkook’s heart melts as he watches. Sometimes, his luck feels slightly overwhelming. When your eyes open and meet his over Mia’s shoulder, Jungkook knows you feel the same. It’s hard not to pinch himself to ensure it’s all real. To confirm he won’t wake up tomorrow in that cold, dead apartment he used to have.
Fingers tightening in Jungkook’s hair, Jae gurgles his laughter and Jungkook’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Mia takes you by the hand, dragging you to the couch to show off her routine. Joining the group, Jungkook bounces Jae to the beat while Mia squeals in delight, holding out her mic for Jae to yell, “AHHHHH!”
It’s a brand of chaos only your kids could create and Jungkook knows that, deep down, it’s something he’ll never be without again. He’ll make sure of it.
© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.
#bangtanarmynet#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#bts fic#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#bts fluff
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God Complex [Soft!Dom Loki x Fem. Reader] 18+
You can find my Masterlist HERE
Summary: You’ve been desperate to get a taste of Loki’s legendary old ways on Asgard - tonight, you’ll get what you desire. [w/c 1.6k]
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, Language, Soft!Dom
"Alright love, but you must promise not to be angry with me when we’re done."
Loki folded his newspaper as he uncrossed his legs on the leather chair, looking down at you as you pleaded enticingly from the floor.
"Promise?"
Your head nodded so fast you lost focus as excitement soared in your belly. He was going to do it. This was actually happening. Finally.
He rose, his insanely long legs extending above you as the tantalising expanse of his black chino-clad thighs met your eye level.
"Close your eyes."
You obeyed, biting your bottom lip with anticipation.
You had been begging Loki for months to let you experience his sexual ‘god-mode’, how he used to fuck on Asgard, taking what he wanted, when he wanted it, anywhere - anytime. And Norns, he had wanted it all.
He had told you half-stories of wanton and willing servants, nights of al-fresco debauchery with ambassadors’ wives and absolute corruption of starry-eyed debutantes; his ivory cheeks growing pink as he tentatively shared past indiscretions while lying intertwined with you under the sheets. He was a changed man, and you loved that. Truly.
But...you also loved the idea of being royally, savagely, irrevocably fucked by the infamous Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies and Sexual Devastation.
The hum of evening traffic outside your bedroom window vanished, replaced by a warm stillness interrupted only by the gentle murmur of crickets, and a low crackling that you couldn’t quite place.
"Open."
Your eyelids fluttered, adjusting to the dim light as you tilted your chin upwards.
Loki remained in position, but this was not the Loki you knew.
He was wearing full Asgardian royal garb, thick boots leading to leather-clad muscular legs which flexed enticingly as he adjusted his stance, his armour and horned helmet glinting in the firelight flickering from torches hanging on thick stone walls.
A luxurious green cape fluttered languishingly on the breeze, drawing attention to the long staff in his hand, rooted to the ground, his arm extended to the side as he towered over you like a king. Like a god.
Holy shit.
"Well? What would you ask of your Prince this night?"
You faltered. His voice was lofty and regal, a thread of condescension woven inextricably within his words.
"You are on your knees, so surely you are here to ask the God of Mischief a favour...a service, perhaps…?"
You lowered your gaze subconsciously to your lap as he spoke, noticing for the first time that you now wore a luxurious dress of deep emerald, gold edging matching the gilded leather fit flush to your lover’s torso.
His hand shot underneath your lowered jaw, encasing it between his thumb and forefinger as he forced your eyes up to meet his. They were stern, his pupils dilated with menacing lust, his mouth twitching in amusement as he held you effortlessly in his other-wordly grip.
"When a god asks you a question, mortal, it is wise to reply."
You inhaled a staggered breath as he coaxed you to stand, his fingers still pressing in to your chin before releasing you with a snort of derision.
"Just as I thought, when finally granted an audience you have nothing to say."
He spat his words like vinegar, venom flecked on every syllable as his jaw clenched. Unadulterated superiority flashing in his darkened eyes as he ran them onerously over your body, lingering on the bare skin of your cleavage which glowed invitingly in the light of the nearby flames.
You took a deep breath, the reality of your fantasy sinking in as you felt the lips of your pussy slick together beneath your dress, a pool of unhinged desire sliding between your thighs as your senses overloaded. Whatever you were expecting, this was more.
"I beg forgiveness my prince’, your meek tone surprising you as he observed you with interest, ‘I was hoping-"
"Hope?’ Loki smirked, cutting you off. ‘Hope is for the weak. For meaningless commoners who do not hold destiny in their grasp and never shall…"
He moved forward as he spoke – and you stepped back automatically, your stomach growing heavy at his words as the feeling pressed to your core, fizzing with adrenaline under the dominantly rich voice of the figure of legend before you.
"Gods do not hope. We take."
Your bare shoulders hit one of the immense pillars which encircled the balcony, all of Asgard laid out beneath you in speckled lights as he stopped inches from you; his chin lowered, eyes raised.
"Do you want me to take you, pet...is that why you have come here this night?"
"Yes" you whispered, the feeble sound catching in your throat.
His horned helmet and staff vanished in a flash of seidr, revealing dark curled hair spilling to his shoulders, the collar of his tunic framing his mouthwatering jawline which cast shadows to his cheekbones in the illuminated gloom.
"Say my name, girl" he growled as he pinned one arm to the pillar above your shoulder, "I want to make sure you know who will own you completely before we are done here."
"Loki" you spluttered breathlessly, "...Prince of Asgard. God of Mischief and Lies and ohhh- Loki…"
Suddenly his lips were upon your neck, sucking deep bruises into the delicate skin as you moaned like a whore under his touch, begging for more as his name dripped from your throat. His hand found purchase against the skirt of your gown, hoisting it upwards roughly as he sought to claim you with his fingers.
"Oh, you lovely thing" he whispered dirtily into your ear, his hot breath making your insides rage with need, "you’re so wet already for me– so prepared to receive your god’s attentions, I’m impressed."
Immediately he slid two long digits mercilessly inside your channel, eliciting a loud moan from your lips as you arched against the pillar in relief. His palm cupped your clit, gliding effortlessly against your wetness as he kneaded into you, catching your mouth in a short, violent kiss.
"What a pathetic thing you are", he chuckled darkly as you writhed beneath his fingers sliding methodically in and out of your folds, "such a whore for a god’s touch, all pretence of innocence wilting in the presence of true power…"
He withdrew his fingers and brought them to your mouth, pressing them to you before you sucked them gratefully. Loki’s authoritative voice was thick with desire as he tugged the laces underneath his leather tunic with his free hand,
"As tempting as it is to have you worship my cock on your knees with those sinful lips of yours, only a thorough fuck will satisfy my appetites tonight."
He pulled the front of your dress towards him, forcing you into a deep kiss, his tongue invading you as he manoeuvred towards the edge of the balcony. Large hands slid purposefully under your ass, pushing your dress to your hips, raising you to sit on the stone balustrade as your thighs widened.
You gasped as his long cock breached you suddenly with a powerful snap of his hips, his girth squeezing inside your waiting wet heat effortlessly, hitting your cervix with a sharp jolt as you cried his name.
"Louder."
You rocked your hips against him as he plunged deeper, filling you completely as you pulled his ass towards you with your bare calves, his long cape brushing your thighs with every slow, controlled thrust of his insatiable cock, searing your drenched pussy with his mark.
"Lokiiii", you groaned loudly, desperate to satisfy the god fucking you mercilessly on the exposed stage of his kingdom stretched out below.
Fabric from the front of your dress was bunched in his fist as he suspended you at an angle from his body, your head hovering over the side of the balcony, his other hand gripping your hip like a vice as he took his time ravaging every inch of your hot channel, begging for release.
Loki’s eyes narrowed with lust as he watched you keening beneath him sputtering his name, as you panted in desperation for his almighty cock to deliver you from your purgatory between desire and climax, completely under his control.
"Will you make your offering, pet?" he declared questioningly through strained breaths as his gyrations changed to an infuriatingly slow pace, dragging out of you before edging back in.
"Will you show your obedience to me, your undying loyalty...by cumming around your god’s cock?"
Your eyes rolled back in your head as his words washed over you, muttering moans of approval as his fingers travelled from your hip to your moistened clit, thumbing you in devastatingly measured circles, watching your stunted descent into orgasm with ferocious intensity.
"Who has done this to you, sluttish mortal?", he goaded as his cock lingered tantalisingly at your entrance, pulsing against your swollen lips as your climax hung in the air like a guillotine ready to fall; "who has broken you thus?"
"Loki…" you whispered, letting your eyes fall to his powerful form, still clad all in leather, his eyes burning with need, his thick cock ready to sheath inside you, delivering the killer blow.
He thrust upwards, pulling the fistful of fabric from your bodice to him as your lips crashed to his, winding your legs around his body as he fucked you relentlessly; his heavenly cock grazing every aching inch of pleasure inside you as you came with an extended strangled cry of his name.
He threw his head back, raven curls tumbling around his cheekbones as an earth-shattering moan of ecstasy escaped his lips. There was sudden jolt underneath you as the flames flickered like static, columns bending like foam as your god thrust into you a final time, his hot cum settling inside you as you felt the mingling of your juices beginning a descent down your thighs.
Pressing your forehead to his, you listened to his ragged breaths as you felt the space around you change, his illusion dissipating under the effects of his orgasm, his concentration shattered.
"Well darling, I hope it lived up to expectations...", he mumbled coyly as he re-hoisted your legs around his waist on the wooden table aka. the balcony.
You chuckled as you brushed a curl from his forehead, cupping his chin in your hand as you raised an eyebrow suggestively, "remember Loki – god’s don’t hope. But you can take me like that absolutely anytime you want."
__
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#loki smut#loki x female reader#loki x reader smut#Loki Laufeyson#loki fandom#loki marvel#loki fanfiction#hot loki#loki of asgard#loki laufeyson x female reader#Loki x YN smut#loki#mcu fanfiction#loki friggason#loki odinson#loki avengers#Loki fanfic#loki fluff and smut#god of mischief#god of sexy#Loki being a cheeky shit#loki laufeyson fanfic
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xcom au, nothing especially anything, set in Cellbit's first few days with the group.
Cellbit is sat on the floor of the command room, an old books of crossword puzzles in hand. He has meticulously copied across the chart, not wanting to steal one of the few leisure items from the rest of the crew, and is filling it in. This one comes in French - not a language he knows well, but he is puzzling his way through.
He is just filling in 14A when a vaguely familiar someone ducks down before him. The green jumpsuit tells him little, except that the man isn't wearing it up - no, the sleeves are tied around his waist, the back bunched up, revealing the tank top beneath. For some reason he wears a hat even in here, an emerald hanging off it.
And then, perhaps more obvious, are the great black wings which fold awkwardly behind him. They're hybrid wings, that much Cellbit is sure of, but they do not fold particularly well.
He looks a bit strange.
They're all a bit strange here.
They're all a bit scarred here, too.
"Cellbit, right?" the man perches on the balls of his feet, elbows to his knees and rests his head on his hands.
"Yes?" Cellbit replies. "I'm sorry, I think I forgot you."
"No worries," he's flashed a grin. "You've got a lot of people to keep up to, I bet? I'm Philza. I remember."
Dragged from one matter to another, it takes Cellbit a few moments to put the pieces together. There was definitely gossip about this man, shared in hushed whispers and watching him interact with the others.
Philza Minecraft, Angel of Death, scourge of the Federation. Vanished alongside his partner in crime years ago, becoming little more than a fable.
One living on their ship, trusted to lead and advise though claiming no official role higher than squad captain.
"Angel?" he asks, because how can he not? "Death's Angel."
Philza's smile grows thin, "I swapped my sword for a medkit years ago. You're better off asking one of the others if it's murder you need - Jaiden's pretty hot at it these days."
Jaiden? Cellbit will bare that in mind.
"Sorry," he says, because he knows they all have pasts he would rather not come up - if Brazilian affairs were half as televised as those in English-speaking countries... Well, with Philza's past Cellbit could perhaps be proud, but parts of his own are better left untouched. "Did you need something?"
He's only been here three days; he cannot imagine anyone trusts him with much.
"Kinda," Philza tilts his head to the side a bit, eyes narrowing and looking all the birdier for it. "I'm told you like paperwork? And decoding shit?"
Cellbit blinks - once, twice, and "yes?"
Philza perks up again, "great! Because I've got a weird shit archive dating back about twenty five years that might want someone to look at them. I've been doing my best, but I am a fucking dumbass and cannot make heads or tails of it."
"Archive?" Cellbit can /feel/ his ears perk up at that - his control of the damned things having been lost in years of having them forcibly pinned away. "What sort?"
"Bit of this, bit of that," Philza shrugs. "Copies of mission records, newspaper clippings, shit the Theory Bros were looking into before the war... Weird crap Aypierre and Tubbo are done with, intercepted audio recordings, spy reports, random crap people picked up on missions... Photos. So many photos. Missing persons reports. That sort of stuff."
It sounds like a treasure trove.
It also sounds like it's going to be a nightmare to get into a usable state.
Fuck, if it's just been shoved in a storage room...
"Sure," Cellbit tries to hide both his excitement and his fear both. "I'm not busy."
"Great," Philza hops back onto his feet. "Because I am. I just found a few minutes to show you; Tubbo needs extra hands to test something, you know how it is with engineer types?"
And, yes, Cellbit does.
---
He is led through the ship to a tucked away room, down near the engines. Philza pushes open the door, and shows him inside.
With a flick of the lights... It's not as bad as Cellbit had assumed. Shelves with assorted objects line the left wall, a series of large, metal cupboards beneath them. Everything is fixed into place with metal strips and bolts - even the filing cabinets, all of which also lock. There's a chart on the wall with packs of coloured paper beneath, each colour representing a different research topic.
There are also cotton gloves - proper cotton gloves for working with documents! -
"While I was sorting," Philza says, already moving over to a cabinet. "I found a lot of this shit is related to more than one topic. Couldn't keep it separated by research field like the old archivist had been trying to, just a fucking dumbass idea. So, left to right, oldest to newest. I start filling a new cabinet from the bottom, so it stays better balanced. Anything paper goes in there - the folders are numbered to their order, please put them back right - objects in the shelves. Coloured sticky labels are where I think shit's related, but honestly you'll want to check it."
Cellbit is already peering over Philza shoulder, and into the drawer he opened. It's one of the pre-war old ones - pretty empty, but there's still a few pieces in there.
He grabs a folder and leafs through, marveling at the organisation, and just how well kept the records are - even at twenty four years old, the newspaper clippings are still perfectly legible and the paper at no risk of falling apart.
It's a missing person's report, one marked with the colour-tag as being unresolved. He's not surprised - if it had been it wouldn't be here - but it's not pleasant news.
And, tucked in with it is a series of printed out forum posts, ones discussing the article.
"It's not much," Philza shrugs. "But I try keep it organised, at least. Knew someone would want it some day."
"No, no," Cellbit puts everything back and slowly closes the door. "This is great! I was expecting worse. Can I see that one?"
He points at a random cabinet, somewhere near the middle.
Philza doesn't open it, he grabs a set of keys from one of to desks, and tosses them over.
"These are yours," he says. "So's the desk - mine's over there, though it's mostly used to dump unsorted shit on. Have fun with it all."
"You're leaving?" Cellbit asks. "Me here. With all these records. And the keys. Alone."
"Yeah?" Philza shrugs.
"I've been here three days. How do you just...?"
"Cellbit," Philza says. "Everyone higher than me in this damned organistion trusts you with their lives. Hell, I do too - I know you were feeding us that info. Not everyone does, but..." a shrug "I file the paperwork, you know? Can't solve it, but I can store the damned things. I've seen what you do, Cellbit - you've saved my ass more times than I can count. May as well give you the paperwork, fuck knows I don't know what to do with it."
"I have?" and Cellbit... Cellbit knows his info was good, but to hear it is...
"You sent the Order to Fit," Philza says. "I used my connection to him to get the Order to bail Missa out - my closest friends, I owe you. The warning of the shift in Thin Man biology? Saved our asses on the field. The base locations? The guard rotations? The info on treating laser wounds? There's not a person on this ship who doesn't owe you their life, Cellbit - what the fuck is some paperwork to that?"
"They would have managed," Cellbit says, already unlocking a drawer and flicking though one of the files inside.
This one is much fuller, and he spots photographs - ones taken by Philza, the backs read, showing off the areas where significant things happened.
"But we didn't have to," Philza replies. "Just.. Enjoy yourself, alright? I've left my notes where I could think of something, but I doubt it's worth shit."
"No, no, this is good," he puts the file back and grabs another. "Just needs an index."
"Indexing's all set up on your laptop," Philza taps on it, and only now does Cellbit spot the old piece of tech on the desk. "Tubbo refitted her."
"You indexed this," Cellbit looks at all the shelves, remembers this man leads missions, gives advice on running the Order - hell, he even runs it himself, when the others are indisposed - constantly being asked for aid and giving it... "It must have taken you ages."
"I was sorting through it all anyway, putting it all in date order and tagging the relevant queries and that," Philza shrugs. "Wasn't that much more work. Hour or two here and there over fifteen months or so?"
It's dedication. Cellbit nearly drops a file as the airship moves sharply, and in making sure everything in intact he misses Philza's escape.
Damn it. Well, if he has questions, he can ask later.
The index though...
Cellbit goes to the laptop, pulling it open and waiting for it to boot. There's a couple of things on there - Philza's desk has a full computer and printer, but Cellbit's new laptop has an external hard drive - but he ignores them for opening the index.
He expected just a list of reference numbers and which tags - maybe location, if he was lucky.
Instead.. Full database, all linked up. Reference numbers, tags, and locatgion, yes, but also summaries of the contents, a list of directly related items such as commentaries or other articles about the same event, a column for Philza's notes and one for Cellbit's, the locations of the originals if not stored in the archive...
Cellbit has killed for far, far less than this. And it's just... been handed to him? By someone saying it isn't much?
He doesn't quite get it, but...
He picks a mystery - something small for now. Opens up something to take notes on, and goes to collect the relevant files.
Soon enough he's absorbed so deep that he doesn't even notice Felps not-so-sneaking up behind him until he's already being hugged and told off for missing dinner - for vanishing all over again.
#qsmp x xcom#qsmp fanfic#qsmp philza#qsmp cellbit#i forgot to put this one on the vote list so take it quick-written and take it now lol#there's more of the two of them later in the series if I ever get to writing it#but for now... just this#happy cellbit!!! he's got an archive!!!#even if neither of them think what they did was actually as valuable as it was#cellbit'll work it out. phil... not so much
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pairing: spencer reid x (she/her) bau!reader
summary: never in a million years would you expect to wake up next to spencer reid...
warnings: 18+ content, mdni; fake statistics, seasons 1-7 spencer, innocent/well-researched virgin, plot who?, sub/dom switch, oral (r receiving), etc.
word count: ~2.5k
reblogs for baby spencer wencer ♥️
Never in a million years would you expect to wake up next to Spencer Reid.
After a particularly daring case, you were dying to find a way to let loose. Luckily for you, the only coworker available was the sweet, heart warming smile of a young agent.
The night was filled with playing chess and simple card games. It didn’t take long for you to regret ever suggesting the idea of playing any games with Reid.
You gently persuade him into the idea of binging Netflix shows. Two wine-tinted glasses and an emptied bottle to show for the fun night. Little did you know, it was going to end in a sleepover.
A grumbling moan and the base of your palm presses into your brow bone. You slowly raise and place your back against your headboard. Resting elbows on your knees, you curve out your back.
“Did you sleep well?”
You jump at Spencer’s voice, having completely forgotten that, in good slumber party fashion, you invited him into your bed. “Oh god,” you gripe, peering through your fingers. He sits with today’s newspaper folded to its crossword. A pen swinging between his two fingers as he sits propped up by two pillows.
Moving away from the curiosity of how this man procured the paper when you don’t even get them, your eyes are glued to the bundle of curls on his head. You point his way while stifling a laugh. His brows furrow as he tucks in his chin. When realizing exactly what you were laughing at, he lovingly smacks you with his paper thin weapon.
“Okay, your hair,” he starts. You nod, encouraging him to finish his sentence. A mean Reid, that would be a sight to see. “Well, I don’t want to be rude so I’m just not going to say anything.” He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest like he did something.
You smile, leaning your head back onto the wood. “Ugh, I don’t want to get up.” Spencer slow slides down with a smile, crushing the pillows below him. His eyes raking over your dramatic body.
“Well, you don’t have to,” he shares with a shrug. “68% of Americans sleep in, especially seeing as 48% of women have trouble…” he slows his words upon noticing the sheets gradually covering your head.
Under a rather light duvet, you can hear his muffled words. “Oh, okay then.” He returns to his puzzle, biting the top of his pen in his mouth. A minute or two passed and he writes down his sixth word furiously.
Wow, Spence is really just going to leave you down here. You groan as you shoot up from the covers. “I could’ve been dead in there for all you know.”
Reid’s eyes are glued to the next clue, not a care in the world. “Not really,” he utters. A slow smile forming on his right cheek. You get a better look at that chewed cap between his teeth. The way his lips pull with his smile. They look sweet, like gentle and supple to the touch but also tasting of some sugary berry.
You rake over his body. A sudden desire to take a quick peek. He looks nice in his purple dress shirt. You always appreciated how he wore them, folding the sleeves half way up his forearm. He has a space, a little tanned slit between his shirt and brown corduroys. You find yourself wanting to explore it…
“Agent Reid, are you fucking serious?” you gasp, pinching the side of his leg. He winces, but not just from the bites of your fingers. “Ugh, do you always have to curse like a sailor?”
You laugh, diving your elbow into your pillow and supporting your head with your palm. “Fuck yeah,” you say with a straight face. He scoffs, landing in one of those cute smiles of his.
“Anyway, back to the question at hand,” you say with thin lips. “Did you seriously wear your pants to bed?” Spencer raises his shoulders and hands in defense.
His mouth gaping as he scoffs. “Y-yeah, I did,” he extends his last word in a sing songy tone. Your brows raise as you nod along. “I-I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
The base of your palm returns to your brow bone once again, but this time for an entirely new reason. “I told you to be comfortable,” you say softly. “Yeah, well, comfortable to me may not be comfortable to you,” he retorts. Raising brows as he confidently rests back onto his pillow.
“I don’t buy it,” you shake your head, sucking your tongue against your tooth. Spencer turns towards you, a lip slightly raised, and offended by your reaction. “Don’t buy it?” he asks incredulously. “I don’t buy it worth shit, man,” you enunciate your “t” before bursting into laughter.
He shakes his head in short movements before the words fall from his mouth as quick as an auctioneer. “It’s not like I’ve done this before, okay?” You pause, completely still. Your eyes widening with a small drop of your jaw. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “You’ve never done what before?”
Now it was Spencer’s turn to hide under the covers. You happily join him beneath the surface, scooting closer to his arm until you were touching. “We really don’t have to talk about it,” he spits out, blowing off the topic. Part of you wishes you could respect his desire, but another part is way too curious to not inquire more.
“Spence, have you never…?” you ask quietly, hiding behind his shoulder as you curl onto to your side. His mouth flattens, displaying his classic thinking face. You allow the silence to fill the air, just like you do when you read over a case beside him.
Silence allows his alien brain to work in ways that you could barely understand. With something like this, he should have all the time in the world to consider sharing such a truth with you.
Several minutes go by and your chin stills rests on his quiet shoulder. “I’ve never been in bed with,” he starts but quickly shuts down. You raise from his side, giving him your full attention. A comforting hand at his peck as you draw his eyes to you. “It’s okay,” you say softly and sincerely. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Annoyed, Spencer pulls the covers from his face and kicks his feet off the mattress. You find a part of you aching for him with every inch he pulls away from you. “Spencer,” you call out as he reaches for his keys. “I really don’t want you to go.” You take a deep breath, hoping he won’t leave - fully knowing that even if he did, you would see him again later that day.
He slows his movements, sustaining his furrowing brow. “Come lay back down with me,” you ask softly. “Please?” He runs his tongue over his teeth. His fingers playing with those dancing keys. “We only have,” you jump onto his side of the mattress. You extend your arm to reach the alarm clock, struggling your first two tries. “Look, only an hour. We can go in together.”
You pull the only stunt you had left. The pouty lip and your bestest puppy dog eyes. “Pleaaasseee.”
Spencer rolls his neck back, groaning as he does. Putting on a real show, just to crawl back into bed with you. “You’re more insufferable than I thought,” he utters with a tiny smirk.
“You’re more cuddly than I thought.” Your chin returns to his shoulder. A leg curls over his as your hand rests lightly upon his chest. You were completely comfortable beside him, as though he was made just for you.
Hesitant at first, you feel his arm wrap around your lower back. He runs his big, soft hand up and down your torso. You could easily fall asleep, right here in his arms.
As you dig deeper into his embrace, you feel his gentle fingers accidentally finding their way beneath your shirt. He makes the same motion under the cloth, only you could actually feel the warmth of his palms this time.
Each touch of his skin to yours creates an explosion that floods your body with adrenaline. You were tired? Nope. You’re wide awake now. The blood embarrassingly makings it way down to the pit of your stomach.
Unknowingly, your legs tighten their hold of Spencer’s thigh and calf. Your eyes widen once recognizing the firm girth pressing against your inner thigh. Your body stills, desperate not to pull any attention to anything going on.
Thoughts of your hand traveling down his stomach flash in your mind. Spencer has always had a piece of your heart, from the day you met him, but as the years went by, you came to accept the futility of your budding, romantic relationship.
Like a deer in headlights, you remain frozen beside him. Silence lives between you two yet again, but this time, there’s something new - something your partnership has never experienced.
You could hear his breathing. How it hitches any time he tries to adjust himself. How every other breath is held for at least five to seven seconds before finally being released into an exhale.
You bite your lip, putting all your effort into not squeezing your inner thigh against his thick cock. A deep exhale pushes from your lips.
You decided long before that it would never work between you two. On top of that, you wouldn’t dare be so careless to be one of his firsts without sincerely wanting to give this a shot.
Your heart bursts with each beat, practically breaking your ribs in the process. “Spencer,” you whisper. He hums at your voice, being pulled from his own trail of confusing thoughts. “Can I touch you?”
You tuck into his shoulder, cringing at your own words. It’s enough embarrassment to make him chuckle and fill your cheeks a rosie red. “You’re already touching me,” he answers sweetly.
You press your forehead against his soft skin. He’s really going to make you say it. The worst part is that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. You raise your eyes to him just to see that he was already peering back at you. “Spence,” you sigh. The innocent, giddy smile he was sporting slowly dissipated as he rakes over your face - searching for some behavior, some clue that will give him the answer to your worry.
You gulp, painfully waiting for his brilliant mind to figure out the world’s most transparent puzzle. This silence was unbearable. You could hear your heart in your ears. Is your that your throat closing? Or do you just have anxiety? Either way, your body screams for the emergency exit.
You mumble, “I should probably get ready,” while sitting up from your comfortable rest. Spencer grabs your wrist, a tight grip that excited you. As your eyes lock, he softly says, “Yes.”
Heart racing. Breath quickening. You return back to his side, laying a delicate head against his chest. Your hand slowly trails down his sternum and onto his stomach. Your thigh digs into his as you curl into him.
Spencer bites his lip as your fingers hook beneath his pant’s waistline. He closes his eyes, running a tongue over his bottom lip. “Can I?” you ask, flicking your eyes up to him as you unhook his button. A slow hand as you pull down the zipper. He nods with a shake that vibrates across his body.
It isn’t long before you could feel the heat resonating off of it. God, you mouth salivates - dying to feel it’s firmness, it’s girth. You melt beside him, wanting nothing more than to hear sweet moans as he cums.
Spencer hisses, almost as though the touch was too much, but he slowly eases into it. Your fingers dip beneath his tight, black boxer briefs. The band pushing against your skin as you slide deeper. Light brown, tightly wound curls flourish beneath your fingertips. His base is thick and enticing. You quickly raise your eyes, clenching your jaw upon the sight.
His tongue lightly floats to his top teeth before taking in a quick inhale. A brief glimpse at his subtle confidence and it is confirmed - he could have had you on your knees way before this. Your hand trails down until your fingers wrap gently around his girth. A shaky breath escapes you when your index finger barely meets your thumb.
Upon the sensation, Spence’s breath hitches and he takes a slow blink. His mouth slightly opens in anticipation as you raise your grasp upon him. Your fingers squeezing tight. A thumb brushing at the threshold of his tip. He gasps, finally dropping the pen between his fingers. “T-that, oh god, that feels so good,” he coos. His body tenses beneath you.
As you quicken, Spencer’s chin grasps for the heavens above. His hand innately digs nails into the small of your back. Your fingers squeeze tighter with each downward movement.
The sight of him causes a rose tinted haze. The blood buzzing in your ears. Your heat slowly grinds against his leg. He hums beside you as you time your rutting hips with your tugging hand.
Abruptly, his hands press into your cheeks and guide you to his lips. You gasp before closing your eyes and crashing onto his torso. You taste each other in a way that sends shockwaves throughout your body.
His lips slightly part, inviting your tongue within. However, he is the one who gently slicks his tongue across your lip. He is the one that presses its tenderness against your own. Your fingers wrack through his waved brunette locks.
Spencer’s hands reach for your hips, pulling you further onto him. His grip is a pleasant mix of a caveman craving his woman and a soft, gentle lover. You cannot help but dig your hips further against his. You wanted more. You wanted him beneath you. To feel him twitch against you.
You straddle his waist, placing your own hands on the sides of his beautiful face. Your hair falls like a curtain as you pull away to take a breath. A smile sprawls across his face. His hand brushing the hair behind your ear with eyes raking over your features.
Lowering yourself down onto him, you pause before your lips touch. Eyes locking onto each other. An energy buzzes between you both. The very same energy you felt the first time you met him. You are the one to pull your gaze as you slam your lips against his.
Placing one hand upon his chest for stability, the other dives between you two and finds it home around his cock. The wrapping of your fingers leads to his breath hot against your mouth. A smile perking between your cheeks any time his sharp, hot breaths tickle your lips.
Spencer’s hands rub down your back, dragging your tank top down with him. His palms warm your waist before his fingers curl into the hem of your panties. He pulls the thin cloth down, dragging it against your outer thighs. His eyes are glued to yours as he raises his chin, begging for your kiss.
Dropping your panties to your ankle, you can feel the heat boiling in your belly. You lower yourself against him. Your wet, heat grinds against his firm rod. He bites back a moan. You press your cheek against his as you nip at his earlobe. “Oh, yes, just like that,” he purrs.
His touch pushes you off the cliff of euphoria. Your mind completely buzzed from his sensual touch. You could feel his hips grinding back onto you. Those shaky breaths leaving him.
You suddenly become overstimulated by the feel of your clothes. Your fingers reach for the hem of your shirt but he quickly stops you. His hands cupping yours as he shushes you. “Please,” he whispers. “Let me.”
Spencer lightly brings your hands back to his chest. His fingers reach the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head. His breath stalls upon the sight of your uncovered breasts. A tongue traveling across his lip as he shudders.
A gaping mouth as he slowly inches towards you. His tongue slightly leading the way. With a beaming grin, you lean into his kiss, feeling yourself crash into his hold. He hums against you. “Don’t stop kissing me,” he pleads softly between pecks.
Your arms hug around his neck, pressing your lips against his. Your hips grind against him, wanting more and more. “Mmm’never,” you mumble. His hands slide up the sides of your waist, traveling ever so slowly until they cup your breasts. His dick twitches between your legs, making you gasp ever so lightly.
Spencer presses his fingers into your lower back. He pins you forward until his mouth crashes upon your nipple. You moan at his wet touch, taking sharp breaths as you drop your head down. “Shit, shit,” you whisper.
His tongue circles around your sensitive skin. Your nipple hardening upon his touch, making him drool more than he already is. “Don’t stop,” you mewl. Your breath escapes you with each flick of his tongue.
Spence’s lips press softly into your skin, making their way to your other side. As his breath heavies, he leans closer and closer into your bosom. Your fingers crash into his waved locks, pulling him tight against you.
Firm teeth lightly envelop your nipple. A bit tighter than you expected. You wince, letting out a hiss that forces him to drop your breast from his suckling. “Too hard?” he asks innocently. Those gentle eyes peer up at you, leaving a twinkling flutter to your belly.
You lift your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Your hand brushes through his brunette locks as you pull him closer into your chest. A scrunch to your nose and you plant a long winded kiss across his lips. A squeeze to your lids and you pull away, even though your body screams at you for doing so.
"Not hard enough, Dr. Reid."
Spencer's eyes open just as his lungs suck in a large breath of air. His gentle hands at your waist now dig into your skin, twisting both your bodies until he rests heavily upon you. His hands reach for your own, wrapping at the wrist and burrowing them into your pillow.
His honey eyes look deep into your soul. They rake over the features of your face. He pulls one of your wrists to his other hands, holding your arms above your head. He then takes his free hand to brush a soft thumb against your cheek bone, down the side of your jaw, and against your lips.
As soon as his eyes return to yours, the words fall from his delicate mouth. "Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?"
You bite your lip, holding back a screaming moan that you didn't know you were capable of. Your head immediately nodding, fully submitting to his intoxicating power. As you do, his thumb pulls at your lip, dragging it down to your chin before placing it gently once more at your cupid's bow. "Good girl."
Spencer's kiss land softly upon your neck. His waving hair tickles the sides of your face as you push against his restraints. Your body innately wishing to hold him, to pull him closer onto your skin - but his fingers squeeze tighter against your wrists. He won't let you go. No, he won't let you out of his grasp, not until he's done with you.
Little moans escape you as his silky pecks travel down to your collar bone. Your lower half folds into him. Legs tightening at his waist, trying to pull him in closer and closer.
His hips bury themselves into you. His breath hot upon your skin, struggling to maintain the sanctity of each kiss. But you can feel it. You can feel him twitching against your thigh. You mewl at the thought of him. They always said the tall, lanky boys had the biggest...
Spencer's forehead presses at your chest, balancing his weight as his fingers massage against your heat. He lets out a low hum as his thumb forms light circles upon your bud. "You're so wet," he whispers before pressing another kiss on your skin. "Are you wet because of me?"
A question so innocent and sweetly asked. His eyes evading from yours as he lands more kisses on your sternum and stomach. You could barely stand it. Your heart flutters in a way that sucks the breath right from under you.
"I've been wet and dying for you to touch me since you got in my bed."
That sweet smile slowly forms on his right side as he dives in for another kiss. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently. Your back arches, pushing your chest further into his warm, drooling mouth. Tight teeth dig onto your sensitive skin making you wince aloud, followed by a tight grin.
His fingers slip under your panties’ hem, slowing dragging them down your legs. He leaves them hooked around your right ankle as his fingers massage into your inner thighs. The sensation almost overwhelming as you take in a harsh breath and adjust yourself beneath him.
"Little sensitive, baby girl?" Spencer asks before crashing his lips on your hip bone. His grasp slowly loosening as his large palm drags down to your sternum. You jump at the fluttering feeling, wanting nothing more than his head between your thighs.
"Let me make you feel better," he utters as his thumb rubs those tight little circles against your clit again. His kisses haunt your heat. His tongue only a mere few inches away, but busy loving on the pudge of your upper thigh.
Hesitantly, your hands float down to your sides. His pecks grow closer and closer to your swollen bits. The wait is becoming almost too much to bear. "Spence," you whimper breathlessly. His touch now like fire against your skin, bursting electricity throughout your body but in such an unnerving way.
You know what your body wants, what it craves.
His head raises, eyes on yours, but his tongue drags up your stomach. He rests against your chest, hands laid on each other with his chin upon them like the cherry on a sundae. "Yes?" he asks with a hint of musicality in his inflection.
"I - I can't take it anymore," you whine, burying the crown of your head into the pillow beneath it. "Please." Your eyes return to him just as that small smile plasters upon his cheek. He moves his hands back to your hips, planting kisses on your stomach until he reaches the very top of your heat.
Spencer's tongue slowly navigates its way down your slit. A loud exhale escapes you and you can finally relax. Your body completely in love with the euphoria it is receiving from the strong muscle.
In the lonely nights where you allowed yourself to wonder, you had always imagined guiding the sweet boy through the process. Teaching him how to lick, where to lick, how fast to lick, and how deep to go.
Not a single ounce of your body was prepared for SS Agent, Dr. Spencer Reid to destroy your pussy without you uttering a single word.
Your fingers find themselves tangled deep within his hair. Your torso curves up to the heavens as you struggle to fathom the undeniable pleasure between your legs. His palm adds a degree of pressure to your breast that sends sparkles to your vision. His fingernails dig into the flesh, but two fingers specifically tend to your nipple - ensuring that it remain hard for him.
Spencer hums against you. The vibrations feel divine, teleporting you to heaven and dropping you back down at an alarming rate. Never once has a man made you feel this fucking good. And, fuck, is it even better knowing that Reid is the one that is making you pray that the licks never stop.
Gradually, you feel his fingers gathering slick within your folds. He releases deep guttural groan upon your touch. The sensation knocks your eye balls right to the back of your head. One palm rests upon his head, while the other digs into the sheets at your side.
He pulls from your heat, breathless as he does. "M'God, you're so wet," he murmurs. His finger flirts with your hole, circling it with a slight pressure. "Do you want it?"
You mewl at his words. You would have never seen him coming. Not this Spencer Reid. Your mind screams at you, screams at you for convincing yourself not to give this a shot, for convincing yourself out of it. "Yes, I want it," you whisper without another second of hesitation.
His grin smirks as a hand rests lightly upon your inner thigh. His thumb rubbing tiny circles into your skin. His breath is hot and heavy against your most sensitive part. His tongue rips between you, flicking the tip against your bud.
Raising his head to watch your reaction, Spencer gradually dives his middle finger within. Your gummy walls take him in, begging for so much more that just a finger. Your chin raises as curses fall from your lips. His smile broadens, beams at the sight. He must like your cursing now...
You can feel his finger brushing ever so lightly against your bumpy surface. Your knees weaken, legs barely holding on. "More," you plead as your hips begin to rut against his delicious fingers.
"Beg for it, Agent," Spencer demands.
Grinding against his fingers, against his face, your eyelashes flutter as you dig deeper into the mattress. "Please, Spence. Please, baby. Please, fuck me." You whine lightly, finding yourself willing to do just about anything to feel more of this pleasure.
He obliges, delving his ring finger in and curling to brush against your G spot. You feel light headed, like the Earth was actually on a globe and someone just spun the shit out of it. You can barely hold back your moans.
Spencer dives in past his second knuckle. Once your walls adjusted to his fingers, he quickens his movement. He lets out breathless moans at the sound of your skin slapping against his. "Oh god," he groans between sweet licks of your clit.
His fingers thrust deeper within you. His delicate hands move quickly, faster than expected. "You're so tight," he whines as he pulls his mouth from your heat and plants a kiss rough and firm against your lips. His tongue plunges against yours, dancing in tandem. Both being barely contained by each other's mouths.
Each push of his fingers forces a whimper from your throat. Spencer moans in response against your lips. He could feel you tightening around his thick fingers. "You're close, aren't you, my baby?" His rhythm is sustained as an unnerving pit rests in the bottom of your stomach.
He breathes heavily against you, pressing his forehead upon yours. His eyes peer down at your body. He enjoys watching your body heave beneath him, watching it twist and wiggle around in pleasure. "Cum for me, baby," he whispers into your ear.
Almost as though you unknowingly needed Spencer's permission, the rubber band in your stomach bursts and your thighs clench around him. The lightheaded feelings returns as you slowly grind against his hand. His fingers still within your pulsating walls. He grinds his cock against your thigh, desperate to get out.
His hand slowly finds it way to your cheek, rubbing a soft thumb across the bone. Your breath heavies as you gradually fall from your high. He guides your chin down as he places a firm peck upon your forehead. He raises your eye line back to him before resting his lips against yours sweet and soft.
"Mmm'you're so good to me," Spencer breathes against your mouth. Another peck and you swear you could see stars. You hum against his kisses, wrangling your fingers through his chocolate waved hair. "You've definitely done that before, haven't you?" you ask.
He runs his tongue across his lips, maintaining his gaze with yours. "I’ve done my research," he whispers before raising the back of your hand to his lips. He lightly lands beside you, hooking his other arm behind your head as he pulls you closer into his embrace.
With a smile and fluttering lashes, your hand travels down the center of his chest and his stomach. Eyes searching for the light brown hair of his happy trail. You bite your lip before flicking your eyes back to his.
Using the base of your palm, you press firmly upon the outline of his girth. Your mouth salivates, flashing thoughts of his cock pushing past your lips. "Mmmmm," Spencer vibrates deep within his throat. His eyes closing as he tilts his head onto yours.
Your finger tips lightly brushing against his boxers. Your own breath hitches as you can clearly feel outline of the mushroomed head. Electricity bursts in you or stomach once again as you massage your fingers up and down his staff.
Spencer groans, faint whispered curses fall from his perfectly innocent lips. "D-don't stop..." he whimpers.
The sound of twinkling bells fill the air.
Your head immediately raises as his eyelids flutter open. "Shit!" You reach for your phone, gripping onto it tight just to reveal the 6:30am alarm. You wince, furrowing your brows as you unwillingly are pulled from the magical and euphoric morning.
Landing back against the mattress, you burrow your head into his neck. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. "It's time," Spencer whispers against your forehead before placing a light kiss. You whine into the crook of his neck, never wanting to leave the warmth of his hold.
"Shhh," he shushes, brushing back a strand of hair from your face. You curl your face up towards him, sporting a pouty lip. "Are you going to be okay?" you ask with concern, knowing a throbbing cock is not exactly painless.
Spencer smirks, eyes raking over your solemn face, before placing a mind blowing kiss on your lips. "Of course." You blush, tucking your chin as you rest your head against his peck. "Maybe after the case..." he suggests with a bouncing brow.
"Hmmm, or during?" you whisper. "I get lonely in my hotel room." He lets out a harsh, ragged breath before pressing his lips together and forming a straight line. He nods, suddenly becoming nonverbal and only being able to communicate with gestures.
The flattery forces a giggle and a blush to your cheeks. Leaving one more kiss onto those sweet, chapped lips, you start to make your way out of bed. He places a supporting hand to the base of your spine as you raise and hook your legs over the side of the bed. You stand, reaching for your trusty work clothes, as your panties slide to your ankle.
Grabbing hold of your dress shirt, you fling your arms through the sleeves before turning back to him to button up. You catch his glimmering eyes watching you, causing you to pause and smile yourself.
"Can we still walk in together?" Spencer asks with eyes scanning your body from head to toe.
"Of course."
note: thanks for entertaining my need for reid! reblog if you enjoy por favor!
• nav • no-no plagiarism • requests open • one shot •
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#bau team#bau reader#smut fic#matthew gray gubler
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Crossed Paths
Part 1 of 4
| Tangerine x Reader
| Canon-Typical Violence, Excessive Use of Swears
| Eventual NSFT
| 1.2k Words
A/N: Reader is English, because I wanted to write an English reader x Tangerine.
Part 2
*
The two of you first clock each other in the crowd.
To be honest, he doesn’t really stand out much at first. Sure, he’s handsome, but handsome doesn’t mean interesting. It doesn’t mean relevant. To be honest, handsome means a distraction, so you know that you should look away.
You don’t, though.
It’s quite by chance that your eyes meet. Two people standing still in a crowd in the thronging mass of Mexico City at rush hour. He’s leaning against a lamppost, reading a newspaper, and happens to glance up. You’re stood still to receive a call from your handler in the only spot you can find to get reception.
He’s dressed well. A perfectly-fitted blue suit that outs him as a professional of some kind, but garish gold rings decorating his fingers that show he doesn’t come from money. Now he makes it, he wants to spend it. You smile. You were the same for a while, weighed down with jewellery just because you could afford to buy it for the first time.
People rush past, shouting over each other in such a clamour that you couldn’t make out individual conversations if you tried. And still the two of you stare.
An almost imperceptible smile quirks up the corner of his lips, as if him catching you watching is some triumph. As if he isn’t doing the exact same thing right back.
But instead of getting annoyed, like you usually would, a curious part of you decides to wink in response.
He seems surprised. He begins to fold up his newspaper, perhaps meaning to tuck it under his arm and start walking towards you.
Another man approaches him. From the way you watch them talk, they know each other. By the time he looks back, you’ve disappeared into the crowd.
*
As far as marks go, this one is pretty easy. Some rich American politician found diddling his finances and stealing from his constituents. Went into hiding across the border and took all the cash with him. Some people weren’t happy with his disappearing act, so hired you to track him down and make him pay.
With his life, of course.
The guy is squirrelled away in some shitty apartment on the top floor of a run-down estate. Really should have tried harder with the hiding spot, you think as you climb the stairs. Anyone could just walk in here and kill him .
Your brow furrows as you get to his front door.
It’s already been kicked in.
Tightening your garrote in your hands, you carefully shove it open the rest of the way.
And that’s when you see Handsome and his companion a second time, a gun in his hand pointed right to your mark’s forehead.
And then the two of you are staring at each other again.
“Huh,” you say, watching the way his finger hovers over the trigger.
“Huh,” he echoes, watching the length of wire in your hands.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The two of you snap towards Handsome’s companion, who’s making no effort to hide how confused he is.
“Business rival, looks like,” you say, nodding to the gun. The politician whimpers a little, but Handsome just rolls his eyes and smacks him with the barrel.
“Oh,” the companion sniffs, “That’s bad timing, I suppose.”
You shrug. Honestly you’re not sure if it is or not. You rarely get to meet other people in your line of work. And never men so good-looking, either.
Handsome hasn’t taken his eyes off you, but he hasn’t taken his finger off the trigger, either. That’s bad. You need to sort that out, pronto.
“You were reading the Daily Mail earlier, weren’t you?” you ask him. “You’re English, too, then?”
His companion slaps Handsome’s arm.
“The Mail? Tangerine, why were you reading that shitrag?”
Tangerine. That’s funny. You’ve heard worse aliases, but certainly much better too.
“It was the only paper I could find, alright?” he hisses back.
“Look, don’t judge us on that. We aren’t Mail readers usually.”
As if you’d judge them for being Mail readers over assassins. You suppose you have to scrutinise the little details in this vocation.
“Look,” Tangerine says, smoothing back his hair with one effortless motion, “the way I see it, this doesn’t need to be some fucking palaver. We want this cunt dead, you want this cunt dead, we put a bullet through his head, it’s done with.”
It’s funny. He seemed so relaxed when you saw him in the crowd, but now face-to-face, you can see the façade start to slip.
You suck your breath in through your teeth, forcing a grimace to pass your face.
“Right, I do see where you’re coming from, but I like to do my job in a very specific way, and that’s why I get hired.” You indicate the garotte again. “A gun ain’t gonna cut it for me, I’m afraid.”
“We’re at a bit of an impasse then,” Tangerine states.
“Please, I’ll pay you - ” the politician whines, but a quick kick to the bollocks silences him.
“Shut up, this isn’t about you,” you snap. It is about him, you suppose, but only in the most direct sense. You turn back to the men, all business.
“Look, there’s a professional way we can settle this,” you state. They exchange a quick glance, and you see Tangerine readjust his grip on the gun.
“Go on.”
“Rock-paper-scissors. You win, you use the gun, I won’t stop you. I win, you watch as I do things my way.”
Tangerine’s mouth falls agape a little, a further gap in the front he’s putting on. His companion bursts out laughing.
“Fuck me!”
“Lemon,” snaps Tangerine, but his companion - Lemon, apparently - waves a hand, blasé.
“Ah, come on. It’s a bit of fun, innit?”
Lemon grins at you, and you find yourself smiling right back. You like him. He’s a laugh. Tangerine on the other hand…
Well. At least Tangerine is just as handsome as his companion.
“Fine,” Tangerine relents, turning the safety on and passing it to Lemon. “Fucking fine. Whatever. Christ, she’s just as bad as you and your trains.”
“Don’t bring Thomas into this,” Lemon warns. Tangerine rolls his eyes but pushes no further.
“We'll go ‘rock-paper-scissors-shoot’, alright?”
His jaw clenches, annoyed. You watch the way it highlights the tendons in his neck. You wet your lips with your tongue.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”
Three minutes later the mark is dead on the ground as you unwrap the wire from around his neck. His face has gone a pretty shade of purple and you can’t help but admire it as you step off of his body. Tangerine has his arms crossed tightly over his chest and looks remarkably like a child having a sulk.
“Bad luck, lads,” you say, bringing out your phone to take a quick snap of the job now it’s been done. “You can always shoot him for catharsis?”
“Nah, you’re alright, love,” Lemon replies.
“Why don’t you use a gun?”
The question from Tangerine is unexpected, you really thought he’d remain tight-lipped. You consider your answer for a moment.
“Find it a bit impersonal, myself. If I’m gonna kill someone I want to see the light fade out of their eyes as I do it.”
You shove the garotte in your pocket and your phone down your bra.
“It’s been nice, boys. Take care of yourselves.”
“You too, love.”
You leave the room, assuming you’ll never see them again.
Stupid to assume, isn’t it?
Score: One - Nil.
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She is all mines (Tony stark x reader)
Summary: Tony stark has always been spoiled. So spoiled, that when he is rejected by a journalist, he takes it as a chase. A chase to make that beauty belong to him and only him. I mean in his mind she was already his, so why not in real life too?
Warnings: possessive behavior, stalking, kidnapping, non-con, abusive behavior, forced pregnancy, breeding, and violence.
Tony stark has always gotten what he wanted in life. He never took no for an answer and no one cared to say no to the big man himself, no matter now insufferable he was to them. So, when his manager declared to throw a party for other mechanical inventors to show off their inventions and be funded by the big man himself, he agrees because he knows he can get a hookup for the night.
He got dressed up real nice and hosted this event. The party was going real nice. New inventors getting the recognition that they deserved and inventors that had been long forgotten, were now getting back into the game. Everything was going very well when he caught the eye of a young and beautiful journalist that seemed to be walking around like a lost puppy dog. The young women was looking around at all of the hightech inventions that were being presented to the public eye with curious eyes. Tony chuckles to himself before downing the whiskey he had in hand and walking over to the young women.
"Darling, you seem to be lost. Are you sure you are supposed to be here?” he teased as he comes up behind the young women. She immediately turns around with fear dancing around in her tummy. She looks at him and Tony watched her eyes widen with glee.
"oh! I had been looking for you!" she seemed excited and nervous. She holds up a tape recorder, a beaten up composition book, and an old #2 pencil. ” could I please interview you for a newspaper?”
That question did not surprise him. He had beeninterviewed countless times and plus being alone with this beauty meant that he could charm his way into her pants. He doesn't say anything to the poor nervous women to a private conference room upstairs and away from the loud crowd.
They walk into the conference room and Tony closed the door, cutting out the loud downstairs party. He turns on the bright, white light in the conference room. He turned around and saw that the young women had already made herself comfortable.
"sorry for the nervousness. I have social anxiety and it’s hard to find my assignments in such a big crowd.” she says as folded her hands in between her thighs with such an innocent gaze that Tony felt his cock twitch in his pants. Goal, he couldn't wait to fuck her dumb when he finished this interview.
He thinks that he was getting into her pants, but little does he know that his night would take a drastic turn for the worst.
She started her interview and Tony listened intensely to her questions, providing answers to everything she wanted to know about him. " enough about me, sweetness...” he holds up his hand to her before standing up. He walks over to her, filling her nostrils with vanilla, coffee, and whiskey. He sits on the table, next to her laptop, and grabs her face.
"tell me some things about you", he expected to see her face full with a red tint, but all he got was an annoyed look that was fully directed at him. She pulls her face from his firm grip before standing up.
“ I think this interview is over, sir. I must go home and write my report." she packed up her things and slung her bag over her shoulder. Tony watched as this women pushes past him and to the door. He got up, quickly and grabbed her waist.
" oh come on, don't be like that, darling. I can show you a good time. " he tried his best to convince her to sleep with him, but she was one feisty women. “ can I at least get you name?”
“ don't be desperate, Mr. Stark. I am engaged. I am not for you, but my future husband." she pushed his hands off her waist and left the room as quickly as possible. She left Tony to think about what just happened.
He got rejected by a beautiful, young women. He chuckles to himself and rubs a hand over his face.
" this is a new experience and I love it"he takes a deep breath and turns off the light before leaving the conference room. He is going to chase her and steal her away from her fiancé.
———————————————————————————
Third Person POV
"what a fucking creep." you grumble as you maneuvered your way through the crowd and out of stark tower. You rubbed your hands against your waist, feeling absolutely disgusted with what just happened. God, you knew he was a playboy, but did he not know how to take no for an answer? You climb in your car and looked at your phone that you left on your passenger seat. You see a text message from the love of your life, Alex.
Alex was perfect in every way. He had soft brown hair, freckles, plump lips with a beauty mark smacked dab at the bottom of his deliciously plump lips.it wasn't only his looks, but he was so kind and cared so much about your needs and wants. He spoils you rotten and tries not to bother you when you are working. He listened to your experienceswith mean or creepy celebrities. He even offered to be a bodyguard for you when you go on these interview runs.
He was amazing touris and you love him dearly.
The message read," Chinese or Mexican?"
You smile and type a quick response to him before leaving the parking lot, hoping to forget about this crummy experience. You really thought he would be a nice guy.
———————————————
It had been a few weeks since the party and you have been feeling weird. It felt like someone was following you, wherever you went there was a different person sitting there with a newspaper and some sunglasses. It just felt like she was being watching all the time. At the cafe, at work, at the library, especially at home. Whatever you are doing, there is somebody watching you and it was leaving you unnerved. You swear that you saw a pair of eyes in your window when you went to be with your fiancé.
Once you started to get threatening texts messages, you decided to tell your fiancé. He seemed pissed off and forced you to make a police report, but they couldn't do anything since it was a cyber attack and not a physical attack. All they said is that they would try to monitor the activity, but they didn't keep their promise.
Your lover put cameras all over your shared apartment and promised to keep you both safe. You finally felt safe. You and not know how unsafe you actually were..
On Friday of a cold October the 13th, you and your lover was watching a Friday the 13th movie. Alex held you close and was pressing loving kisses to your temple here and there. He knew you hated horror movies, but he had begged and begged you to have a movie night with because it was such a special day. Friday 13, the national unlucky day. So, you reluctantly agreed to watch it
You had completely forgotten about your ever worrying problem. You wanted to enjoy your time with your lover and leave the situation in the past.
You thought you had left it in the past until you and your lover hear a loud, banging knock on the door.
Alex paused the movie and gets up without a cautious thought in his head. "wait! Alexander! What are you going!? It could be dangerous!" you whisper-yelled at your idiot lover. He just looked back at you and lifted up his shirt, showing off the gun tucked in his pants. Your eyes widen and her continued walking towards the door. He finally opened it and not even seconds later, you hear a metal bullet hit something else metal. You jump and immediately hear your lover yell at you to hide.
"w-what?"
"FUCKING HIDE, Y/N!”
You jumped up off the couch and run down the hall. You could hear the punches being thrown and groans. You hide in the hall closet and you finally can feel the hot tears running down your face. Your heart was pounding out your chest. Who the hell was in the house?
* crash*
You hear a loud crash, like someone went through a wall and finally the intruder speaks. You almost cried again when you realized who it was.
" come on out, sweetness" the calming, sweet sounding voice sounded like it was laced with poison. His footsteps get closer and closer to where she was. "well, if you don't come out it doesn't matter cause I got you heat signature. I am giving you a chance to come out to make your situation better, but I could do this the hard way.".
Your body started to shake horribly bad. Maybe you could make a run for it. Try to get help from your upstairs neighbor. You don't get a chance to think because the door swung open to reveal a crazed looking Tony stark.
You scream and are taken under the cover of night.
———————————
When you finally come to, you wake up to being naked and tied to a comfortable bed. You start squirming immediately, terrified of what you were doing here. You couldn't remember what happened to you. Finally, he comes out. Tony came out with just a robe on him and he smiles a wicked smile.
"oh,you are finally awake, my darling. Thought you would never wake up.", his voice sounded like he was taunting you. It's like he was saying, 'i caught you and you thought you could get away from me.'
You felt like crying again and all he did was smile at you. He walks over and hover over you, already touching your thighs. He rubs them, gently and leans down towards you ear as you turn away from him with a disgusted look on your face. He spoke into your ear, “ I only have you because I get whatever I want, sweetness. You don't say no to Tony stark. Should be grateful that went through all this trouble to get you all to myself. Oh, and don't worry about your boy toy. He'll be fine, just will be in the hospital for a zero day, my love." he says as slips off your engagement ring and throws it across the room.
You could feel yourself shaking and you closed your legs. He put his hands between your legs, pressing himself against your sensitive parts. He places his hand on your pussy and spreads your folds apart, running his thick finger against your dry clit. You hated every inch of it. It felt wrong with this disgusting man touching you like this, but your body was betraying you.
You could feel yourself getting wet as he brought warm pleasure in between your legs. He pushes his digit in and you cried out in pain. You were still quite dry, but Tony didn't give one fuck about you and your pleasure. He only wanted the thing that he was denied. He wanted your body and he wanted to finally fuck you dumb, like he had promised himself.
He moves his head down in between your legs and decided that tongue will do the trick of wetting you up. He kisses, licking up and down your pussy. That did the trick. It made you nice and wet, making smacking sounds. He pushes his tongue inside of your pussy and you couldn't help, but let out a sultry moan. He sits up and smiled at the fact that he dragged that moan out of you.
He brings his hand up to his mouth and licks his hand. He places his hand on your pussy and rubs your warm pussy to make you nice and wet for him. He places sloppy kisses against your next as you treat to fight him off, whimpering and begging him not to do this. At one point, you spit in his face as he wets up his cock. This only caused him to smack you in the face. “don't fucking spit my face, whore.”
You started trying to kick him, trying to get the arc reactor in his chest, but he just dodged you and while your legs were opened, he slammed right in. You scream out and he just covered your mouth' starting an unruly pace. He assaulted your pussy and watched your reactions with twisted look on his face.
You felt absolute pain. Felt like a fire was brewing in your pussy. You screamed and cried as your vision turns blurry. You did everything you could to try to get him off of you. He was so big and you felt so weak as you couldn't get him to budge. He wrapped his hand around your throat and your mind comes up with a coping mechanism by imagining that Tony was Alexander. You tried to imagine that it was Alex's big hands touching your throat and thighs. That Alex was pounding into your sensitive pussy. That it was his dick that was filling you out so amazingly.
It worked because you let out a loud moan. Your fearful screams turned into loud moans of pleasure and you hear Alex's chocolately voice speaking to you, telling you that he wanted to keep you. That he was gonna marry you and breed you to have his kids. You dian't realize that it was Tony's voice talking and not your baby.
You became dizzy with pleasure as you mind kept you in your sex filled fantasy. Tony pushes his cock deeper as he announces that he was gonna cum. He buried his cock inside which caused you to moan out and say, “cum! Fill me up with your babies please!"
Your thoughts had completely clouded your right judgement. He smiles, thinking that you finally wanted this, that you wanted him and not that fuckboy you called a boyfriend. He needed to hear you say it.
“ mmm...say it. I want you to say you want me” he growls as he starts slamming into you at a harder pace. His cock felt like it was gonna burst.
“I want you! I want you, so fucking bad”, you yell out, loudly. You felt a rush come over you. You squirted and immediately felt a warmth enter your body. That’s when you snap out your trance to the disgusting truth. Tony came inside of you.
He looks at you and smiles, wickedly. “ we aren't done. You are all mines, sweetness.”
————————————————————————————————————————————
Note: this may be bad because I haven't written smut in awhile. Hopefully, y'all enjoy it!
#dark marvel#new writer#new page#marvel#tony stark x reader#x reader#new#new story#hello#robert downey jr#forcedsex#non con#possessive#trigger warning.
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Day Thirty One: Werewolf
Kinktober Masterlist will be posted after October
Synopsis: A blood full moon is it's way and Haytham has had a past experience with a werewolf turning feral on a night like this. He just hopes that Shay isn't the same.
Word Count: 4.7K
Genre: Assassin's Creed Rogue
Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway
Warnings: Werewolf stuff/Tongue stuff/Size Kink/Ass fucking/Man handling or shit like that/that word for monster fucking/rough sex
Haytham doesn’t knock or make himself known as he enters Shay’s manor. The owner of the estate doesn’t even peer up from his papers he’s currently nose deep in. Striding across open foyer, Haytham throws the newspaper in front of Shay on his table. The man doesn’t even look up to Haytham, only frowning at the paper that has ever so rudely interrupted his reading.
It’s folded open on one of the last pages where the times of the tides are, and the moon cycles are for the month. With a little hesitance, Shay picks up the newspaper and gives a quick skim. His brows furrow and he looks closer at what he is seeing in front of him.
“A blood, full moon?” Shay asks more to himself.
Haytham pulls out a chair for himself on the other side of Shay’s office and takes a seat on the other side of the table. He takes his hat off and places it on top of Shay’s paperwork that seems to be a mess, but it’s organized on the filer’s account. Shay looks up from the newspaper and chucks it on top of the other papers.
“Never heard of such a thing,” Shay points out.
Haytham hums. “Yes, well. I’ve witnessed a blood moon and it doesn’t take fairly to wolves.”
The Irishman only looks to him for a moment, as if waiting for an answer. But when none comes, he asks, “I’m guessing you’ve come across a wolf during a blood moon?”
“Yes.”
“And how did it fair?”
“Dead.”
Shay nods with his lips thinned. “Lovely.”
Why isn’t he surprised by Haytham’s bluntness at this point. There’s some days where he thinks he’s gotten use to it and then there’s others where it takes him solely by surprise.
Haytham picks up the newspaper and gives it another once over even though he’s read it a good couple of times. He’s dealt with werewolves before, Shay isn’t the first cursed man that he’s come across in his lifetime. But only once has he had the luck of being around one during a blood moon.
For his liking, once was enough. Yet with his relationship to Shay, it seems like he’ll have to go through this situation again.
“What happened during the blood moon?” Shay asks.
Even though Shay is a were, one of the cursed, he is only newly turned. Turned by his once called brother, Liam O’Brien. Changed him on the night that Shay was escaping from the Assassins. A reason why he survived the fall and the cold ocean that greeted him below. Haytham would call it a miracle, while Shay would say something else entirely that children should not hear.
Monroe had informed Haytham of who Shay was from the very beginning. Haytham himself, had seen it as a big risk. A risk not worth taking and that he should just kill Shay before the next full moon came around. But that didn’t happen. Monroe had always been known to have a big heart. Even for a Templar.
“The one I encountered had gone feral. Almost like he was in a rut like state,” Haytham explains bluntly.
Shay is a bit wordless and tilts his head slightly as if a dog would. “A rut?”
“I don’t know how else to explain it,” Haytham admits truthfully with a small wave of his hand.
But at this, Shay sits further down in his seat with a huff. His eyes flicker across the reports and the papers on his desk. He suddenly becomes uninterested in finishing any of this today. Haytham thought he dove too much into his work. But with tracking other ships, plus his own and keeping up to date with gang activity, it all does start to pile up after a while. Haytham is just grateful he has the need to keep his work space tidy. On a good day at least.
“I’m meant to be in Albany on that date,” Shay brings up with a soft chuckle.
Haytham thinks on that. The were that he encounters on the blood moon didn’t know him. It was all by sheer coincidence that the two ran into each other that night.
But Shay and Haytham know each other on a level that not many get to see in their lives. In such a short time, they’ve formed a bond that ties them together through their experiences in life. And in doing so, Haytham has helped Shay with his transformations. Controlling the curse when he changes, he is more placid and more so has to wait out the night until he turns back. He has told Haytham that he still feels the hunger, the urge to rip and shred like the curse ensures upon. But Shay’s will is something stronger than most men.
They haven’t had a bad night since last year. But that could all change with this upcoming blood moon. But it’s Shay. There could be something that Haytham might be able to do on that night that can keep him at bay.
“And you won’t be able to delay your trip?” Haytham asks even though he knows what answer he’s going to get.
“Not if you want to lose a lead with the Assassins.”
As Haytham thought. Always onto something. Can’t stick to one place and can’t let the Assassins rest. Especially not after what they’ve done to Shay. The nickname, Templar Dog has seemed to stuck as what the Assassins call him now. Another one Haytham has heard but hasn’t told Shay yet, is the Grandmaster’s Lapdog. He doesn’t think Shay needs to know of it either.
“I’ll join you to Albany then,” Haytham says as he stands from his seat.
Shay opens his mouth to argue but a hand is held up in front of him. His words get caught in his throat and he shuts his mouth just as quickly. Haytham grabs his hat and straightens himself out.
“I’ve already made it final. Make board for one more on your ship.”
-
The trip to Albany goes smoothly, giving Shay and Haytham a week before the blood moon. But the itch that scratches underneath Shay’s skin becomes more eager with each passing day. He hasn’t felt anything like this since the early days.
To distract himself, he keeps himself occupied with the lead. There are meant to be a few Assassin’s or gang members still lurking around the town even though Shay has ratted them all out. But they like to linger about place they aren’t welcome.
To Shay’s dismay though, the week goes by quicker than he expected. Even Haytham lost track of days with helping Shay try and get this done as quick as possible. But the day of the blood moon comes around the corner and neither of them are ready to leave Albany.
-
Somehow, Shay had convinced Gist to get everyone off the Morrigan for the night. Gist knows of Shay’s curse but has never seen it firsthand. And he has told Shay firmly he will never have the desire to do so. Shay doesn’t blame him though, it isn’t a pretty sight. Haytham, not a man to sugar coat things, has said it’s something out of a nightmare.
The both of them keep to Shay’s quarters as soon as the sun begins to set, hoping this room is enough for the oncoming night. Haytham locks the doors behind him even though he knows it won’t do much to stop Shay from breaking out if he wanted to. He has seen this man charge through thick wooden doors and break bones in fully grow man’s hands. And all that was done without his were form.
Without saying a word, Shay begins stripping down to just his pants. It’s like a routine at this point, all so his clothes don’t get destroyed in the transformation. On his first transformation he had destroyed a pair of clothes that weren’t easy to replace. Nor was it fun waking up in the middle of nowhere butt ass naked on the outskirts of New York.
It was truly a morning to remember. He had ran into Monroe along the way back. The Templar had been looking for him and all he found was a naked, dirty man hiding behind a bush. That was the morning that Monroe’s suspicion came true and when his care for Shay became something along the lines of parental. Or maybe colonel and soldier. Shay will never know.
Haytham takes off his cloak and over coat, along with his hat to make himself comfortable. The night is a bit humid, even for the River Valley. Shay watches him with tense shoulders. A sinking like feeling grips at his throat. An image washes over him, of one of him hurting Haytham tonight. He turns away, eyes straining to the floor.
Yes, this line of work and this line of life isn’t for the faint hearted. Shay knows, has been made very well known, that Haytham knows the supernatural side of life. Has come into contact with more than one werewolf and on the rare occasion, vampires. But feral werewolves can’t help their transformation, going rabid across the area wherever they hole up. While vampires like to keep hidden in plain sight.
Sounds a lot like the Assassins, but as far as Shay is aware, there were no vampires in the fold. Not while he was there at least. But no sane man goes around telling everyone that they’re a vampire.
Shay exhales slowly as he sits on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. He can feel it. He doesn’t know how to explain it. He’s tried to do so with Haytham. But how do you explain something that only a were can feel. He can feel the coming of the transformation. The calling of the moon that it seems to have. Shay will have to admit, it is the oddest side of being a were.
But there is one thing that does make sense now. The moon has never looked so beautiful. Unfortunately though, he won’t be able to look upon her tonight.
Haytham pulls out the only chair that Shay keeps in his quarters and places it in front of him. The noise is like a hammer hitting metal inside Shay’s head and he flinches away. His senses begin to become heightened; they always do on full moons.
Shay looks up from his hands with a raised brow. The other man sits with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his propped knee. Posh bastard.
“What are you doing?” Shay asks.
“I’m keeping an eye on you,” the other quirks as if it’s obvious.
Shay only stares at Haytham for a moment. Wondering how on Earth he has come to this situation. Where he grew up, he was taught with the Assassins that the Grandmaster of the Templar Order is a ruthless, heartless son of a bitch.
And yes, they were right about the ruthless part… and somewhat on the heartless. But there are times like this that Shay is able to see the little bit of softness that Haytham is willing to lend out to the right person. The parts of him that Haytham has kept to himself for so many years.
“Promise me something, Haytham,” Shay begins.
“Hmm?”
“If I do go feral, put me down,” he says bluntly.
Instantly, he can see a cord is struck in Haytham. He’s good at hiding it but Shay has picked up his tell. His eyes slightly squint and he ever so slightly raised his chin upwards. As if he’s just tasted something sour on his tongue or smelt something off.
Haytham looks down to the bracers he still has on his arm. He flicks his hidden blade out, the both of them looking over the silver metal. One blade that has probably taken more lives than Shay has. Haytham isn’t shy of using it, nor waving it around. The sight of it almost says a million words itself. The way Haytham looks over it with his own thoughts racing through his head. Most likely, having to image sticking the blade into Shay’s neck.
He flicks it back in with a satisfying click.
“Only if it comes down to it,” he answers poorly without looking up at Shay.
At this, Shay only frowns. But he guesses that’s the best he’s going to get. Particularly, out of a man like Haytham Kenway.
-
The two continue to talk about mundane things, about Shay’s hunt for the Assassins and about what they’ve found out in Albany. A couple of hours pass by as they wait for the blood moon to rise above the horizon.
And when it does, both of them don’t need to look outside to know it has.
Shay suddenly stops midsentence and bows his head with a pained groan. His breathing becomes shaky and his whole body tremors. He goes to stand in haste but his knees instantly give way. He falls forward and Haytham is quick to catch him, but Shay pushes him away just as fast. He keeps his back to Haytham, not wanting him to see the full mess of the transformation.
It feels different though. More like rats clawing through something to escape fire. Something burning hot within his core that instantly makes him break out in a sweat. It’s hard not to shout. It’s hard not to give in to the choke sob itching at the back of his throat.
And all Haytham can do is stand back and watch.
On the floor, Shay cowers on his hands and knees. Bones can be heard popping and breaking out of their sockets. The first cry that comes from Shay’s throat is something that Haytham will never get use to. No matter how many times he’s seen Shay’s skin ripple and change as if there’s something alive moving under there. No matter how many times he’s heard bones break to only heal back into stronger, bigger ones. No matter how many times he’s watched Shay’s skull and jaw snap and break to elongate forward into a wolf like snout. No matter how many times he’s watched human teeth get pushed out to make way for long fangs that snap and clash together past the blood that erupts from his mouth.
No matter how many times, Haytham will always feel sick in his stomach at the sight of such an inhuman act of God. He doesn’t even truly know if God has a play at this. This is something else entirely. Something that an average human would not be able to grasp at with their small minds. One where they would be instantly calling this a sin. Something that Satan has bestowed upon them and that needs to be burnt with fire. But something like this would only laugh within the flames. He’s seen a were do it before. A truly terrifying sight to behold.
Shay grows at least twice his size, his legs twisting into something wolf like and he rips his pants in the process. A thick layer of dark brown fur grows quickly over his body, more shaggy around his neck and face that is so thick that it’s hard to get to the skin underneath. Hard for a blade to get through.
Haytham watches this all unfold in front of him, keeping as still as he possibly can. He won’t lie, knowing the unknown right now terrifies him. Especially as two amber eyes slowly turn his way. A silence falls over the cabin that has Haytham’s heart beating loudly in his ears.
Shay breathes heavily, panting like a mutt with his tongue lolled out. For a moment, Haytham thinks that Shay is all here. That the blood moon hasn’t done anything to Shay’s will.
But his lip curl up in a snarl to reveal long fangs underneath. Shay tries to stand to his full height, but his head hits the top of the cabin with a loud thud. His ears flick in annoyance but his eyes are locked onto Haytham. Even hunched over, it’s as if Shay takes up half of the cabin. He stands more humanoid than anything but his face is wolf like. It’s short and stubby, his teeth virtually too big for his mouth. It’s something mixed between human and wolf, something that Haytham will only be able to explain as a were and nothing else.
“Shay,” Haytham speaks firmly.
This is only met with a deep, chesty growl that rattles the entire cabin. Haytham is just glad that the crew is gone. Because he wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this.
Shay jumps forward suddenly and for a moment, all Haytham sees is teeth. But he moves out of the way just in time, feeling claws graze against his shoulder. The loud clack of teeth vibrates against Haytham’s brain as he rushes over to the table. Shay destroys the chair as he lands on it, bits of it going flying. But he doesn’t care for it, he’s already moving Haytham’s way again, claws digging into the wooden floor to gain the space between them.
The amount of force that Shay rushes Haytham as he barges into the table is something that reminds him of a bull. Said table flips over and blocks the only exit, papers and reports flying everywhere that rain down around Shay. Another snarl is spat Haytham’s way and true fear strikes his gut.
Fear that he might have to do something he truly did not want to do tonight.
Shay jumps forward again with every intention of latching himself onto Haytham’s shoulder and tearing off his arm. But Haytham moves before he can think. He ducks and grabs onto Shay’s snout, wrapping his entire arms around and holding tight.
Haytham is thrown about as Shay shakes his head violently, trying to pry this human off of him. This small “victory” is short lived though. Haytham’s grip slips only for a moment, and similar to some raging bull again, Shay throws his head to the side and flings the Grandmaster. Haytham hits the back of the cabin wall with a loud crack. All the wind is crushed out of him and he lands on the floor in a heap.
Shay lands on all fours heavily, shaking the whole ship and prowls over to Haytham. His lips curl up again to show off his fangs, all but dripping saliva as he nears.
Haytham shifts and rolls onto his back so that he’s facing Shay full on. He flicks out his blade, finally bringing up the might to do something. But with how sluggish his mind and body is, he isn’t able to move his arm in time before it’s crushed under one of Shay’s hands. He barks out in pain, not able to retain himself for the moment.
This is how he meets his end then? To his want to not harm someone he loves?
Shay towers over Haytham, his nose becoming mere inches away from his own. Time seems to slow as he looks right into those amber eyes. He stares right back at Haytham and for a moment, he sees Shay. But only for a moment. The effects of the blood moon seem to be something greater than what Shay can break through.
“Shay,” Haytham firmly breathes out finally.
Anyone would find him goddamn crazy right now. They’d be shouting to just kill the thing and be done with it. To fight and lash out or to do anything but be pinned by such a beast. All so this doesn’t happen again. But it’s Shay. He doesn’t think he’d be able to do it. He knows he could, he knows he should, but would he be able to? Now that is a question within itself.
Shay stops his growling and snarling and he just stares at Haytham. The scar over his eye seems more prominent in his were form. One last injury that scarred over before he turned for the first time. Most likely where he was clawed at by Liam, Shay has never truly told him.
Haytham takes a stupid risk and brings his other hand out to Shay’s face. Shay flinches away, but doesn’t move again as Haytham’s hand comes to the side of his large head. The feral look leaves his eyes for a moment again as he lets Haytham touch his cheek. Shay lets go of Haytham’s other arm and quickly, the blade is flicked away.
Shay sniffs him before moving forward ever so slightly. Haytham doesn’t let his guard down, watching this massive form slowly come into his space more so than before. Sniffing him and smelling the fear wafting off him.
“Shay,” Haytham says again, hoping to get through to the man.
His ribs still hurt and a major headache is coming along. He doesn’t want to be thrown around like that again. Not ever.
But to his name being spoken, Shay huffs. But there’s still a slight crazed look about his eyes. Something that the blood moon is doing to him. Causing him to act out. Some humanity has come back into him, but the blood moon still has its effects.
The next thing he does makes all the sense on his feral behaviour. A clawed hand presses itself onto Haytham’s sore chest and pushes him down onto the floor heavily. Then, his clothes are literally being ripped off him. Ripped apart and thrown away until enough of Haytham is revealed.
A feral rut. That is what the blood moon causes. Something that werewolves can’t control and become insane over.
And all Haytham can do is watch as his heart quickens in his chest. Anticipation prickles at his skin as he watches rows of teeth that were just trying to kill him moments before lower to his crotch. As a hot, thick wet tongue licks a strip over Haytham’s ass, it becomes very, very clear now on what the blood moon does. His suspicions were right.
But the buzz that washes over Haytham at the odd sensation makes him quickly realise, he’s not all apposed to this. Something so dangerous, so close, yet so arousing. Shay licks another hot strip across Haytham’s ass and up to his balls, leaving behind a thick saliva that feels sticky.
If this will stop Shay from going on a rage in Albany, then so be it. Best keep this act to this room than anywhere else.
Haytham is just lucky that he was able to calm Shay down from harming him to get what he wanted. Any bite from Shay and Haytham would be in the same predicament as him.
Shay licks and laps at Haytham’s ass, using a clawed hand to spread him open for better access. Almost folding the Grandmaster in half and into the floor. The pain in Haytham’s chest melts away at the sensation that overtakes his body at Shay’s tongue. It’s as if Shay can’t get enough of him, tasting his muskiness from today’s work.
This goes on for awhile and Haytham keeps himself in check. All so that he can watch just where Shay’s teeth go. His professionalism is something that does get in the way sometimes.
But all focus is thrown out the window when Shay’s tongue is pushed deeply into his ass all at once. Haytham throws his head back with a deep, grinded groan, his body twitching at the warm, sticky sensation inside of him.
And Shay doesn’t stop. He uses his tongue to lick inside of Haytham, opening his mouth as wide as he can to push as much in. Haytham’s hard cock twitches and bobs with each movement from Shay, precum dripping onto his stomach. Every movement has Haytham panting and moaning noises he never thought he could admit. The bliss that pools over Haytham is something akin to being high.
He can feel Shay’s tongue go as far in as it can get, moving and pressing against the walls of his ass before coming back out. Just to do the same thing over again. Each pass of the tongue hits a bundle of nerve that has Haytham’s breath hitching every time. It’s so warm and Shay breathes heavily, concentrating on his work at hand.
He has never seen Shay’s werewolf form as a means for pleasure or sexual desire. But maybe they should have done this sooner. Just not during a blood moon next time.
Shay removes his tongue, having deemed it being enough. The emptiness Shay leaves behind is something Haytham has never felt such a burning desire to be filled again. But he gets his desire. Shay moves up and over Haytham, revealing the thick cock between the werewolf’s legs.
Haytham swallows thickly as Shay’s big hand hold him down by his shoulders. Painfully pinning him down. All Haytham can do is keep his legs open so that that thing can fit inside of him. Because at this point, he doesn’t think he can stop Shay. Nor does he want to stop.
Shay lines himself up and pushes in a little eagerly. He growls deep in his chest at the warm feeling of Haytham. He dives in deeper, rutting into Haytham bit by bit.
The stretch for Haytham punches the wind out of him instantly. He grips onto Shay’s wrist, not to push him off, but for some kind of support. It hurts. The more of Shay that Haytham takes, the more of the stretch and the fit is painful.
“Sh-ah ah! Shay,” Haytham tries to get through to him.
But it seems the rut of the blood moon has taken a stronger hold than before. Because his rhythm doesn’t stop. He keeps going, panting over the top of Haytham, grunting every now and again. Haytham’s ass is lifted into the air again as Shay gets a better angle to abuse it.
The size of Shay makes Haytham feel like he’s going to split in half. He feels so full. The pain is still there but it begins to feel a little too good, Shay’s saliva helping a lot. With each hard thrust, a moan is pushed out of Haytham as he’s moved up the floor little by little. They keep moving until Haytham’s head hits the base of the bed.
Shay keeps going, his pace quickening to something desperate. Haytham’s entire body feels like it’s on fire, his untouched dick leaking even more than before. Haytham brings a hand to his own cock, hissing at how sensitive he is. He uses his own precum to jerk himself quickly to Shay’s brutal pace. He can feel himself coming close, but he doesn’t know how much longer Shay is going to be at it for. He holds the base of his cock, hoping to hold out until Shay is done with him.
At that thought, Shay goes on for a few more blissful minutes. Haytham gets lost in the pleasure that makes his head a mess. Shay doesn’t let up once. Hitting that spot inside of Haytham that has his head spinning and has him being left breathless every single time. Haytham looses track of time. He gets lost in it all. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold out when Shay is finished.
Haytham comes in his stomach, his vision going spotty and black. He doesn’t know if he had his eyes shut or if the orgasm was just that good, but he’ll never know. But his orgasm rips through him like a storm, taking his breath away.
Shay keeps going, fucking him through it and it all becomes a bit too much. Haytham pants and groans as everything becomes sensitive. He can’t even touch his own dick. He holds onto Shay again, just hoping that that were’s stamina dies out soon enough.
Just as Haytham thinks that Shay is never going to stop, the werewolf growls deep in his chest as his movements stutter. He dives his cock deep into Haytham’s ass and fills him up. The hot, sticky sensation that fills Haytham has him catching his breath. It just feels like it keeps going. He can feel Shay’s dick pulsing inside of him, unloading himself until there’s nothing left. Until it’s seeping out of Haytham and onto the floor beneath him.
Haytham has trouble finding air as he falls limp on the floor. Shay slowly takes his softening cock out of him and lest Haytham lay on still. Haytham just hopes that Shay doesn’t need a round two any time soon tonight because this alone, has the more man spent.
#coco posts#coco kinktober 2023#kinktober#kinktober 2023#Shay Cormac#Haytham Kenway#Assassin's creed rogue#Ac rogue#assassin's creed#shaytham#shay cormac fic#shay cormac fanfic#shay cormac smut#werewolf!shay cormac#werewolf#werewolf au#shay patrick cormac#shay patrick cormac fic#shay patrick cormac fluff#shay patrick cormac fanfic#shay cormac werewolf au#haytham kenway fic#haytham kenway fanfic#haytham kenway smut#haytham kenway x shay cormac#haytham kenway x shay cormac fanfic#shay cormac x haytham kenway#shay cormac x haytham kenway fanfic#shay cormac x haytham kenway smut#ac rogue fic
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Coincidence - Ch. 2
Dr. Alan Grant x Predoctoral Student Fem!Reader
Series Main List
Ch. 2 Warnings: Explicit language; inappropriate crush; minor Alan Grant/Ellie Sattler references; dinosaur PTSD
DINOSAURS AMONG US??
Astonishing reports are surfacing out of Costa Rica about creatures that have been extinct since the Jurassic period. Several local sources are coming forward to say that not only have they worked at a facility that supposedly breeds dinosaurs, but they have also personally seen the large reptiles.
“Those eyes,” one man told reporters. “I’ll never forget those eyes. Cold… like the worst winter ever. Cold and utterly without remorse.”
“I worked there for the money. Why else do you think?” Another man claimed. “I guess there was hazard pay in there – I heard at least one man died at the facility, mauled and eaten, so I heard.”
“I saw them when they were little – kind of cute, in a reptilian sort of way with their little screeches.” Yet another man reported. “But within six months, they towered over us with zero restraint or control. Deadly in every way – even the herbivores. Though, the triceratops and brontosauruses were more likely to step on us than eat us.”
All the interviewed individuals referred to an island off the Costa Rican coast, though none have named it. In total, Costa Rica has approximately 80 small islands and authorities are weighing whether or not to open an official investigation.
Immediate suspicion has fallen to Isla Nublar, under lease from the government to InGen. Perhaps it’s coincidental that the former CEO of InGen, John Hammond, has just been terminated and replaced by Peter Ludlow. Perhaps this change in power will reveal more of the biotech company’s undertakings on the island or lead to further investigation of the surrounding areas.
“Fucking reporters.” April grumbles next to you, distracting you from the newspaper article. “They can’t even get it right. Dinosaurs have been extinct since the Cretaceous period, not the Jurassic.”
You chew a bite of your sandwich, glaring over at her in the shade of the mess tent. “Seriously? Of all the ludicrous claims in this article, you’re calling it out for a factual error?”
She shrugs as she sips her water. “I like my journalists to at least have some integrity.”
You snort around a mouthful of food. “And you say that about an article that seriously implies that dinosaurs are alive in our world today… unbelievable.” You glance back down at the article as the paper’s edge catches in the midday breeze. “They make it sound like some corporate cover-up operation – or like a James Bond villain. Recreating dinosaurs on some tropical island…”
April offers an incredulous laugh of her own as she lifts her sandwich. “How would they ever even go about such a thing? Even the intact eggs with fossilized embryos on Dr. Grant’s ‘Egg Island’ didn’t offer enough clues about their DNA.”
Re-folding the newspaper, you shake your head. “That makes it sound more like a sci-fi fantasy film than anything that a respectable scientist would actually endorse.”
“The thought is incredible, though.” April muses with a wide smile. “I mean – to actually see a T-Rex… or a stegosaurus! Are they as big as we imagined? As ferocious? As gentle? As fast or slow? God, the questions are endless.”
“I think I would be too busy arguing with myself whether to stay or run away if I ever saw one… not that it really matters because these are all completely hypothetical questions.”
Hypothetical, maybe, but the dig site has been buzzing for at least the last hour. Ever since the two-day old newspaper arrived this morning with a food restock, everyone’s been speculating and whispering. Of course, the small mention of the InGen CEO also raised some eyebrows. It’s no secret that InGen is one of the department’s most generous donors and largely responsible for funding this year’s dig, and maybe... well, like the paper said, it’s just coincidental. But it's still curious that an article stirring up rumors of dinosaurs in the modern world just happens to discuss a company that funds dinosaur fossil excavations.
You take another bite of your sandwich even as your stomach sours with the impossible implications. It doesn’t make sense… how could it? Even the thought of bringing prehistoric animals into the modern world just seems horrifically ill-advised.
The din in the mess tent falls silent around you, and you glance around with confused curiosity. Over your shoulder, you notice Dr. Grant coming to a stop in the center of the tent. Despite his evident exhaustion, his eyes hold thunderous frustration and bitter disappointment. His mouth pinches to a tight line as he surveys the assembled crowd of increasingly interested people.
He braces a hand on his hip, drawing a sharp breath. “By now, I’m sure that you’ve all read the newspaper from two days ago.” His sharp gaze lands on you before darting down to the newspaper resting in front of you. “And I’m sure that you’ve all figured out that the InGen discussed in that inflammatory article is the same InGen who so graciously funds our department. Or, rather…” The muscles of his jaw visibly tighten as a swallow works down his throat. “They used to. Our dean was just informed that with the change in leadership comes a new change in direction.”
Your stomach drops to your feet, heavy with dread.
Dr. Grant exhales a deep sigh. “We’re told to expect significant cutbacks effective immediately. And until the department can reassess impacts and proper funding allocation,” his voice tightens with choked emotion. “I’m afraid to say that we… we’ve been shut down.”
Gasps and groans of disbelief echo around you as your face falls.
He raises a hand in an attempt to placate. “I know how disappointing, heartbreaking and absolutely frustrating this is.” If he tries to strike a positive, supportive tone, he fails as he continues. “Especially after all the progress we’ve made. Especially when we have such a prime specimen within our grasp….” The tension in his voice shows on his face, aging him ten years older - and you want to give him the biggest hug. “But, that should just be all the more motivation for us to secure more funding, get back out here, and get back to digging.”
“Dr. Grant,” one of your fellow students pipes up. “You said effective immediately… so, how long until we have to leave?”
He sighs with heavy reluctance as he scans over the group. “Unfortunately, we’ve been directed to start making immediate preparations and teardowns.” Another wave of groans echo in the tent, intermixed with cries of protest and scoffs of disbelief. Exhaustion weighs heavy on Dr. Grant’s shoulders as he nods and continues. “I completely understand - trust me, I didn’t just take this lying down.” He darts a glance over at Dr. Sattler who stands silently on the tent’s periphery with her arms crossed and a carefully neutral expression. “We told the dean exactly what we think of this order to disband, and we were still shot down. So now,” his tone sharpens with an acerbic edge. “After lunch, we must each start doing our part to return to campus before we all lose our privilege to work and study at this esteemed university.”
He winces in the wake of his words, as if he just realizes what he said. As if he realizes he’s supposed to set some sort of example but just epicly failed instead. Another heavy sigh leaves him and he shakes his head - and goodness, you honestly don’t know how Dr. Alan Grant’s day could get any worse.
Or yours, for that matter.
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of your face as you worked. Between the sweat and sunscreen, dust and sand clung to every inch of exposed skin as you guided the brush over the carefully preserved skeleton.
Pursing your lips, you continued working away at the rock matrix surrounding the fibula bone, flaking the rock away with a paintbrush in one hand and dental pick in the other. Quiet, easy conversation floated around you as others also laid prone in the dirt with their own tools, excitement building as the skeleton yielded more of its secrets with each layer of removed sediment.
The rock continued to flake away, and surely, you must be close. The plane of weakness always revealed itself when least expected, and finally, your pick chipped through the invisible plane. Your brush swept the rest of the loose sediment away, finally revealing aged, brown bone. Satisfaction welled in your chest and a smile brightened your face as you continued to separate the final layers of rock and bone, revealing the long, tapered, thin leg bone.
Or, perhaps… it was too thin. Or, no…? You stared quizzically down at the fractured bone embedded in the earth, at the two snapped fragments that shoot phantom pain down your own leg. You blew gently to dispel some loose sand granules as you brushed over the brittle ends and licked your top lip. “Dr. Grant?”
He lifted his head at the sound of his name, searching your voice out with aviator-shaded eyes. You met his gaze, motioning him over. Giving you a quick nod, he looked back down to his own work, carefully setting his tools aside before rising to his feet. Sand coated the front of his clothing as he stepped around other team members to walk towards you. As much as you enjoyed the sight of him in a lecture hall, this was easily your favorite version of him - bedecked in his signature straw hat, aviators, and perpetual layer of dirt.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, crouching down beside you for a closer look. His shadow offered some temporary relief from the sun as you motioned with your brush towards the broken bone.
“The fibula, just here.” You said before turning to glance up at him. “I think this one might have been injured.”
His face creased with open curiosity as he lowered himself to the dirt alongside you for a closer look. “Brush, please?” He held out a hand, and you didn't hesitate to pass it over.
His skilled hands at work never failed to mesmerize you. The delicate brushstrokes, the deliberately careful touches of his fingers, the tandem dance they wove together as the sediment yielded its treasure to him. A gust of hot wind washed over you, bringing his scent with it - exertion, earth, and plain soap. It heated your blood on a primal level, and the arousal stirring in your belly snapped you back to yourself.
Goodness, this was hardly the time or place for your body to run away with you.
“This bone is too fragile to move.” He said, lifting his head to look up the length of bone. “It’s clear something happened here - was this a fracture that caused the animal’s demise? Or did it occur after death? Perhaps from a stampede?” He rolled onto his right arm, glancing out over you and the surrounding dig site. “From the other specimens retrieved so far,” he paused to wet his top lip in thought. “It stands to reason that maybe they were on the move - possibly, even on the run - but yet, this one was able to keep up even with a broken leg.”
A smile came to your face as you listened - and God, this was exactly why you’re out here. “I think the clean break would suggest injury,” you said, leaning back in towards the bone. “If it were an impact - like from a stampede or other heavy weight, I think the bone would be more splintered.” You looked up at him before scanning ahead and behind him. “We also don’t know how much larger this group - herd? Pack? - was. With time, we might discover that these three specimens were outliers or outcasts… just natural selection still at work even among global catastrophe.”
He regarded you for a long moment, and eventually the corner of his mouth lifted with a smirk. In the shadow of his hat and the tint of his aviators, you couldn’t tell if he was proud, amused, or… something else. The heat simmering in your blood favored the latter, wanting him to see you as more than just his student, as his intellectual equal, as someone who could -
“It’s certainly an intriguing discovery you made.” Your name rolled off his tongue, and your heart fluttered as he turned back to the skeleton. “But the bone is still too fragile to move. We’ll have to reinforce it.” He shifted again to reach into the side pouch of his belt and withdrew a small bottle. “This won’t be enough, but it’s a start. Now, we need to be careful - this resin sticks to sand and sediment just as easily as bone.” He handed back your brush, motioning you forward as he leaned in. “We’ll start with this end and work inwards, before we reinforce the other end.” He paused, glancing up at you with an encouraging lift in the corner of his mouth as he uncapped the bottle and hovered close to the bone’s surface. “Now, if you can keep the sand and dust away, we’ll have her ready in no time.”
The fond memory nearly brings tears to your eyes. Out of all your days in the dust, it’s easily your favorite and easily the closest proximity that you’ve ever worked one-on-one with your mentor. Even now, you can still see his face so clearly, hear his voice, and recall that smirk directed only at you. If you’re perfectly honest with yourself, you have hoped to get one last chance for a similar moment with him - or, rather… you were hoping. But if the dig is well and truly disbanded, then this is it.
Your last dig with the department ends like this.
“One more thing,” Dr. Grant’s voice cuts through your disappointment and you glance back up at him with a heavy gaze. “Over the coming days, weeks or even months - if any of you are contacted by the media or requested to give any public statements, say nothing and direct whoever asks to the university public relations office.”
An immediate flurry of curious questions erupt - and you can’t blame your fellow students. It’s such an odd thing to say, such an odd request, and it stirs questions of your own as you watch Dr. Grant deflect incoming questions with increasing frustration.
Just what does he know?
Just what else isn’t he saying?
Series Main List
#sam neill#jurassic park#alan grant#alan grant x reader#alan grant x you#classic jurassic park#dr. alan grant#sam neill x you#sam neill x reader
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BROKE YOUR OWN HEART
(Can't Finish What You Start)
Remus Lupin & Original Male Character
tw: angst, implied abuse, scars, burns.
Summary
CHAPTER ONE
Remus stood in front of the worned out maple door. He hesitated before knocking it, but the sketchy man that was in the other side of the street was eyeing him suspiciously, even thought he was the one being suspicous. So he brought his knuckles in front of his face and tapped them against the wood, retracting it when a splinter found it's way on his pale skin.
He waited with his suitcase tight against his chest, considered running away until a girl around ten years old opened the door with a scold of annoyance in her face. She looked fucking terrifing for such a small body.
There was the noise of a way too loud TV pouring from inside the house and Remus had to talk louder than usual in order to even hear himself "Oh, hey. Um, i'm Remus. Is Elliot here?" She stared right into his eyes before dissapearing on the right part of the house, leaving poor Remus clueless on the front door "Um"
"Lupe! Who is it?! Lupe?" Someone screamed from a room. It was Elliot's muffled voice. At least Remus was in the right house. After the girl didn't answer the curly head of Elliot popped from a door in the hallway that was directly across from him, so they saw eachother inmediately. "Oh, Remus? What the hell are you doing here?" He furrowed his dark brows and took away the red toothbrush that was hanging from his foamy mouth.
Remus stood there in an awkward manner while Elliot finished washing his mouth and leaving the bathroom. "Um, sorry for appearing here out of nowhere I was just- I- um" Remus grew even more nervous while he watched his friend approching him. What the hell was he doing here? And why the hell was he stuttering so much?
"Lupe! Turn the damn volume down!" he screamed at his sister before setting his warm eyes on the other boy. Soon after, the noise was quieter "Come on in, you must be sweating your ass off"
Remus laughed softly, because he was sweating his ass off. As they both got inside the dimly lighted house, Remus took in Elliot's face. He looked tired but relaxed at the same time, as if Remus was a neighbour asking for a cup of sugar.
The inside of the house was small and crampted. The kitchen was on his left and the living room on the right, the two rooms being separated only by the kitchen counter.
Who Remus guessed was Lupe sat on the washed out brown couch, her back facing them. "Sorry, you were saying"
While Remus talked, Elliot started going around the place, not wasting a second. Moving toys out of the carpeted floor, getting scattered papers and letters in a neat pile on the kitchen counter, picking up tiny t-shirts and pants and folding them.
"Oh, yeah- sorry. Um- I just kinda- It's nice to see you by the way" Elliot smiled at him with amusement, althought completely and utterly confused. "Um, I just need... a place to stay. For a couple days, until I find something more permanent" Elliot offered a soft grimace on his soft face, looking around the messy house. "It's completely okay if you can't. I just- I kinda got, like, an internship at this newspaper company and well, you know, my family is kinda poor and every place in London is so freaking expensive and I just- remembered I asked for your address so I could send you letters over the summer and I kinda thought 'well Elliot lives close enough to London maybe I could stay for- I'll pay of course! For food and stuff, maybe-"
"Remus, Remus. It's okay" Elliot interrupted him and Remus was glad he did, because he was sure he would never stop talking if he didn't "We can work something out. We are kinda cramped in here, I'm sure you've noticed but it's okay. I understand, as you can see, we are not rich either. I mean, I live in fucking Jaywick" Remus sighed with relief.
"That's... really great. Thank you"
"It's fine. I hope you would do the same if I ever have to go to... fucking Wales" They both laughed. "Definitely" answered Remus
"So, this is Lupe, my little sister. Say hi, Lupe" the dark skinned girl waved her hand dismissively and greeted him in the same way with a soft groan. "She's the sweetest kid on the block" he ruffled her hair and Lupe slapped his hand away "Jesus Christ, Eric! I told you not to leave Dom on the sink while you bath him!"
Elliot rushed to the kitchen where Remus followed and a baby splashed water around with his grubby little hands. Elliot took him out of the soap bubbles. "Hold him a sec will ya" he passed the baby to Remus, who held him from under his arms and kept him far away as if he was holding an atomic bomb. The little creature made it's little creature noises and looked almost exactly like Remus imagined Elliot looking as a baby: golden skin, dark curls and the biggest brown puppy eyes he had ever seen. "I kinda hate babies, but I think this is the most adorable one I've ever seen"
Elliot laughed while opening and closing cabinets until he found a towel, quickly wrapping Dom in it and taking him in his own arms. "Yeah, he tends to have that effect on people"
"Eric" Elliot changed his smiled to a stern looking face when his eyes found the little boy that had come from a room in the hallway. He had short tight curls and a comic book in his hands.
Remus had never seen Elliot like that while in Hogwarts. He did keep an intimidating scowl at all times, the kind every muggleborn had to know how to master. But for the most part he was quiet and almost always alone, stayed out of trouble unless someone went looking for it, wich was quite often. Never hesitated to beat someone up if they bothered him enough.
But this- it was almost... fatherly, and strange. Then again, they had never seen eachother outside of school, and this was definitely weird. It felt domestic "Jesus, I told you not leave Dominic on the sink. He could catch a cold or fucking drown"
"Sorry" the boy responded with a hint of annoyance as to drown out the guilty feeling he actually felt. Elliot looked at him with a raised brow and crouched down to the 8 years old level, baby still in his arms.
"Hey, look at me. I need you to promise me you won't leave him there anymore. It's dangerous, okay? Like, really fucking dangerous" The boy nodded at him sheepishly and went to sit on the couch next to his sister. "And that's Eric" he told Remus, pursing his lips.
Elliot directed the way to his room. "You'll have to sleep here with Dom and me. Hope you don't mind, but well- you don't have a choice either" he grinned at Remus, who told him there was no problem, and there wasn't. He would sleep on a shed if it meant he could go to internship without paying for a place to stay.
He placed the baby on the bed and started changing him onto his blue and green stripped pijamas "Unfortunately, I have to catch my shift in, like, half an hour. I work at the car factory till seven. You can stay here, I guess. Althought the house is really not the best place to just hang" He said to Remus apologetically. Just now he noticed that Elliot was wearing one of those dark gray one piece suits factory workers were given, the upper bit hanged loosely around his hips with a white tank top underneath, letting the tattoes on his strong arms roam free.
Remus almost laughed imagining himself next to the boy, perfectely ironed dress pants and sweater vest included. He had never felt this obscenely posh.
"I acually have to go to the office for my first day too. I finish at six thirty. That's why the urgency to find a place to stay" He left his suitcase next to the bedroom door, only keeping the brown leather bag on his shoulder
"Great. We'll take the bus thogether, then" said Elliot, returning to the kitchen.
Remus felt so helpless just following him around the place, but what else was he supposed to do? Sit down next to Lupe and risk getting his head ripped off his neck? No way.
"Can you pass me that bottle? It's right there on the dishing rack. Thanks" Elliot shaked the now milk filled baby bottle and put it in the microwave "Stop fighting over the remote! Or i'll unplug the TV!" He yelled at his siblings
"But Eric wants to watch a fucking movie about penguins!"
"It's not a movie! It's National Geographic" Eric enunciated each syllable like he tought her sister had the unability to reach his level of intelligence
"That's even worse!"
"Stop it. Eric, you watched TV all morning. It's your sister's turn" Lupe sticked her tongue out to her brother, who rolled his eyes and gave her the remote "And you, don't swear" This was Lupe's time to roll her eyes.
"You always swear" she complained.
"That's because I'm a grown up and I'll start getting bald in a couple years"
"You are seventeen!"
Remus tried to erase the smile from his face. It was endearing, watching Elliot like this, but he couldn't help but feel bad for his friend. It looked like he was holding way too many things on his plate. Fuck, his plate was about to collapse with how many weight it held.
Remus was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even realize that Elliot had already fed almost all of the warm bottle to Dominic. The baby was fighting against his own closing eyelids.
And that was a battle he couldn't win.
So Elliot took him to the bedroom and carefully layed him on the crane. Well, the homemade crane. It was actually a loose drawer on the floor filled with pillows and blankets. It looked strangely cozy, and Remus wished he was the one sleeping in it. "You all set?" He whispered to Remus, who only nodded at him.
When the boy made sure his brother was fast asleep, he crabbed his walkman from the top of the dresser and closed the door behind them, trying to make as less noise as possible. After putting the thin headphones around his neck and the little box in his back pocket he knocked the door of the room in front of them, sticking his head inside after a second. Remus could see a girl with braids that seemed a little younger than them. She sat on her book filled desk and turned around to the voice of her brother.
"Hey, I'm heading out. Dom's sleeping in my room. Can you keep an eye out for him?" He said
" 'kay, sure. Who the hell's that behind you?" She furrowed her brows.
"This is Remus. Remus, this is Gia, my other sister. He'll crash here for a couple days" Remus greeted her politely and she did the same, despite her uninterested demeanor.
"Crash here?" she repeated "Dad won't like that" she told him with a worried expression.
"Don't worry about it. It'll be fine" she nodded, still unsure. "Don't study too hard, 'kay? I can see the smoke coming from your big ass head" he joked lightly as to dissipate the heavy air that hung on the pastel room. Before Elliot could close the door she called out for him, seemingly remembering something.
"Oh! Can I have some cash for tonight? Dani and the others want to go to the movies" she said, her most charming smile on her face. Elliot hummed and searched in his pockets for some wrinkled spares.
"Here"
"Thanks! I owe you"
"It's fine. Be careful. Love you" he placed a kiss on the top of her head, closing the door after she corresponded his words.
Both boys walked through the hallway to the front door. Remus growing more uncomfortable by the second, feeling like an intruder "Mom will be here in a couple minutes, be good and don't bother your sister unless it's an emergency, okay?"
"Okay! Love you!" Both kids said waving his hands at him from the couch.
"Love you too. Lupe, stop opening doors to strangers" The last thing they heard before stepping out where the mischievous giggles of the two kids.
"Sorry for that. They'll kill me someday" he told Remus with a smile. They walked down the tattered streets of Jaywick, the summer sun cruel above their heads.
"Don't apologize. I didn't know you had siblings"
"Well, you never asked" There were a lot of things Remus never asked about. He suddenly felt extremely dumb. What was he thinking? Showing up to Elliot's doorstep in the middle of the day, asking for a place to stay. He didn't even think they could call eachother friends yet. I mean, they did start talking frequentely last year at Hogwarts, but still. It was clear as day that his house didn't have spare room and he was right to assume that the money wasn't something they could throw in the air either.
How could he call himself a friend when he was just knowing now that Elliot had siblings and was already working at a fucking factory while being seventeen years old. The only people Remus heard worked at a factory were alcoholics and dead beats. Not that Elliot was a dead beat, of course. Fuck, now he felt like an asshole.
And the thing Gia said about their father... Remus had his suspicions. Elliot would show up after the breaks with bruises and cuts on his face and he would always wear long sleeves. He noticed even before he got the courage to even talk to him. And he had learned the signs, after all, he had seen them on Sirius before he ran away from home after 4th year. Even though Elliot always dismissed his subtle questioning by saying that he got into a fight, wich wasn't that hard to believe since he ended up in Minnie's office every other week. But deep down, Remus knew something else was up. And there he was, on the mouth of the wolf.
This was the first time Remus was able to see Elliot's arms and he was sure the boy didn't even notice, or they would be covered by now. He had some cigarrette burns and a couple scars, and tattoos Remus had never seen before. A flower on one of his biceps, the other one had a heart crossed by an arrow that said "Mom" on the middle, it looked like it was written by the shaky hands of a child, a cartoonish picture of a deer on the inside of his right forearm -Remus inmediately thought of James- that looked straight at him, a simple apple above his shoulder blade and one he couldn't quite see peeking from one of the tank top sleeves. Then there was the ones he had seen before: the single spike of a barbed wire on the left side of his neck and multiple on his hands.
"I won't get you in trouble for staying in your house, right?" Remus asked, concerned. Elliot looked at him, something on his face that couldn't be read, but then smiled like he always did. Like he was perfectely fine and walking through life was like a fresh summer breeze.
"Don't worry about it"
He did worry about it. But he was also so desperate. Elliot wasn't his first choice, of course. Sirius and the Potters were on a family trip to Spain, even if they let Remus stay with them, Godric's Hollow was almost four hours away from London, Peter was visiting some cousins in Germany. By the time the apology letters came around, Remus coudn't think of anyone else than Elliot. Sweet, puppy-eyed, troubled Elliot.
Remus wanted nothing but to catch up with him. Not only about the month they been away, he wanted to know everything about Elliot's life and tell him about the internship and learn about bending car parts only because he did that at a factory. He figured they would have time for that later and a whole another year of classes ahead of them. Now he had to get to the office in order to actually have something to talk about later.
They arrived to the bus stop in silence. Elliot greeted the driver and paid for both their passes -after an embarassed Remus told him he didn't have anything smaller then ten's. I mean, really?-
Twenty minutes later they stepped out of the bus onto the streets of London "You know how to get there, right?" Elliot asked Remus. He nodded. Elliot gave him a piece of paper "This is the address to the factory. Meet me there at seven and we'll go home together. Okay?" He talked to Remus like he was one of his siblings. And Remus realized that it was something he often did, but never tought much of it. Now it made sense why.
"Okay. See you at seven"
"See you at seven"
They parted opposite ways. Remus turned around to watch Elliot put the headphones over his ears, arms now covered by gray fabric, beated down black boots against the pavement.
He looked beautiful. And so different and far away from him.
___________________________________
You walk down Alameda
Shuffling your deck of trick cards over everyone
Like some precious only son
Face down, bow to the champion.
You walk down Alameda
Looking at the cracks in the sidewalk
Thinking about your friends
How you maintain all them in
A constant state of suspense
For your own protection over their affection
But the fix is in
You're all pretension
I never pay attention
Nobody broke your heart
You broke your own
Nobody broke your heart
If you're alone it must be you that wants to be apart.
- Alameda, Elliot Smith.
Also in AO3 by the same name.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x male reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin angst#the mauraders
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Day 1:
Oh Sheriff - Part II
Lee Bodecker x black!female reader
Warnings: 18+ only!!! Contains: smut, racism, reverse racism (?), disapproving parents, wedding, pregnancy, toddler, office sex, semi public sex, daddy kink, I hope that’s it
Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude
Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated ☺️
Master List
9k words
“Here you go. ‘Dinosaurs and mammals of the Jurassic Period’,” you recite as you hand the book to the little girl eager to learn more about the newest school subject. You can’t help but smile as she rushes off to a table by the window.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid I’ve lost my book,” a familiar voice drawls from behind you.
“Well, sheriff, the penalty is a $2 fine,” you smile, tucking away a couple books from the go back rack. You know good and well he hasn’t checked out a book since he was a boy.
“Is there any other way to pay that back?” Lee asks wrapping his strong arms around your waist from behind. You giggle as his nose brushes against your ear only for him to whisper, “Maybe I can eat you out for a couple of hours. Would that make me even?”
“Lee,” you hiss unable to keep the smile off your face while you try to be upset with him. He’s in his full uniform, taking a break from running calls to harass his favorite librarian.
“Three hours?” He smirks before pulling your skirt up just a fraction of an inch. It was quiet in library. A majority of the kids had gone home. The girl you just found the book for was there with her mother while she used the newspapers to go through the wanted ads. And a group of teenagers were still upstairs studying but that was all.
Leaving you and your sheriff relatively alone among the book laden shelves.
His hand roams up your blouse to cup your breast, pinching the nipple to an erect point through your clothes before gathering a little more of your skirt.
“Four hours and that’s my final offer,” Lee whispers as you suppress a moan. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles and his hand has finally cleared your skirt so a roaming finger can trace your slit. “Missed you today, caramel.” He presses a kiss to your temple then just behind your ear then your jaw, all the spots that make you squirm in his grip.
“You miss me everyday, Lee,” you breathe trying to keep your voice down.
He hums in you ear sending vibrations through your entire body. “Today in particular.” His fingers curl around your underwear and feel the slick gathering in your folds. “Johnson’s planing on proposing to his girl and they’ve been together for a shorter time than us,” he laments as he flicks your clit.
“Wh-what’s stopping you from asking me then?”you ask as Lee presses into your core and curls his fingers into that spot leaving you limp in his arms. He clamps the hand that was fondling your breast around your mouth just in time to catch your moan. “Gotta meet the man you called ‘daddy’ before you met me.” He continues to finger you relentlessly while blocking your moans. He tucks a second finger into you and you feel like you’re about to explode. “Can you set up a meeting for us? Dinner are my place, maybe? God, you know I love to see you looking domestic in my kitchen.” He removes his hand long enough for you to moan out ‘yes, Lee’ a little too loudly. “That feels so good you can’t even contain yourself,” he smiles as you pant against his hand trying to catch your breath but he’s doing things to you that make you feel like you might break. Oh god you’re close! Every limb feels sensitive as you grip Lee’s forearm that’s clamped over your mouth. Your hips thrust against his hand chasing your high begging him in your mind to get you there and soon. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me, caramel,” Lee hisses just for him to reach his thumb out and rub another circle into your sensitive bud. You let out a muffled cry as your core finally bursts.
You collapses against the man behind you and he catches you against his chest. “Good girl. So good for me,” he praises while kissing your temple. He pulls his fingers from you and presses them to your now uncovered lips. You suck them off, tasting yourself with a soft groan of satisfaction. He finally spins you in his grasp to kiss you fiercely while you recover from your high. “You’ll call your folks? Tonight?”
You nod numbly, curling into his chest for comfort.
“You want me to come over tonight?” You nod again. “My fingers weren’t enough for you?” You smile.
“They were plenty but I want you.” You hum and press another kiss to his lips.
“I gotta get back to work.” You shake your head ‘no’ making him smile. “You’re gonna make such a pretty little wife. Can’t wait to come home to you every night.” You giggle and kiss him one last time.
“Love you,” you whisper.
“Love you more,” Lee mutters against your lips before pulling away. “Walk me out?” You nod and take his hand. It all became easier once you stopped worrying about how the general population looked upon your relationship. Johnathan’s girl, Nichelle, moved into an apartment in the city center bringing the colored population up to a rousing two. And now it seemed like she was going to be here to stay. You knew she’d say yes. Those two were so cute together. He’d bring her to the station and let her work the radio or take her out in his cruiser when he was on patrol.
You looked to the new couple for validation. Johnathan was just a regular street deputy so he didn’t have to worry about the town’s idea of his relationship. You wished it was that easy.
Must be nice to not have the local population in all of your business.
And you still hadn’t told your family.
They knew you were with someone and it was pretty serious but they didn’t know he was much older than you, or that he was the sheriff, or that he’d been divorced.
And they definitely didn’t know he was white.
You don’t know what they’ll think! It’s never been an issue. You grandma married a man fifteen years her senior and they were happy for years until he passed away. Your cousin was a police officer in Chicago. Your aunt and uncle got divorced but still raised their kids together.
But no one had ever brought home a white person…
You groan internally and try to envision how this conversation will go. ‘I want you to meet my boyfriend. He’s the sheriff and only a couple of years younger than dad. Also he’s white.’
Ugh! You don’t have the energy for this! You find a coloring book of dinosaurs and photocopy a few pages for the little girl currently making roaring noises to her stuffed bear and hand them to her with a box of crayons.
“Oh, thank you!” She cries getting her mom’s attention.
“You’re a life saver,” the woman sighs watching her daughter for a moment. “You know, the sheriff never had kids with his old wife.”
“Yeah?” You whisper knowing full well that she wouldn’t put out enough to make a baby in the first place.
“Her class is always so excited for library day. You do wonders with these kids. You’ll make a good mom.”
“Thank you,” you smile.
“And you seem to make him pretty happy. I’ve never seen a man so eager get his girl off with nothing in return.” Your face heats. Oh lord, she saw? She heard? “Don’t worry. It’s our secret.”
“Thank you,” you repeat. “I’ll let you get back to it,” you smile and retreat to the comfort of your desk.
And the prospect of a looming conversation.
You return home to find Lee parked in your driveway, still in uniform, waiting for you with a paper bag on his trunk.
“I brought dinner,” he mumbles around his cigarette.
“You didn’t have to,” you smile and press a kiss to his lips.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to talk.”
“So talk,” you sigh unlocking the front door to be greeted by your cat. You bend down to pick him up while slipping off your shoes and Lee follows suit.
“I feel like I’m putting a lot on you. To tell your parents. To get married. I haven’t really asked how you feel.”
The statement takes you by surprise as he makes his way to the kitchen.
“Do you think I want something else? Someone else?” You ask placing the cat at your feet to follow your boyfriend.
“Well, shit. It’s not all that….maybe it is all that. I just want to be sure you want this. You want me.”
“Lee,” you smile up at him, wrapping your arms around his waist comfortably. “I want you. You’re the first man I’ve ever wanted. I’m just a little scared to tell my folks about you.”
“You embarrassed?”
“What do I have to be embarrassed about?” You giggle. “You’re perfect. The perfect gentleman and, god, you can destroy me anytime you want,” you moan making him chuckle. “I’m not embarrassed. Just…worried.”
“I want to be here for you,” Lee sighs, his hands tracing your hips. “No matter what happens, I love you. I’m here for you.” You nod and immediately go to your phone on the wall. Lee wraps his arms around your waist while it rings in your ear. You take a settling breath while he curls himself over you. “My good girl,” he whispers just as the ringing stops.
“Hello?”
“Ma!” You smile recognizing the voice.
“Hi, sweetheart! How’s it going out there?”
“I’m fine but, um, I wanted to ask you guys to come visit. Is pa there?”
“Yeah. Pa! Your baby girl is on the phone! He’s coming. Is this about that boy you’re seeing?”
You worry your bottom lip. “Yeah, kinda,” you trail.
“Hey, baby girl,” your dad greets taking the phone from your mom.
“Hey, pa, um, so I was wondering if you and ma would make a trip up here when you have some time.”
“Of course, of course. Is there a problem?”
“No, I just want you to meet someone.”
“It’s that boy she’s talking to,” you hear your mom in the background.
“You want us to meet your little boyfriend?” You look up at the ‘little boyfriend’ in question and smile.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I want you to meet him. We were talking and he said he’ll host dinner at his place.”
“Well ain’t that sweet? Our little girl is finally settling down,” your dad notes making your face heat. “How’s this weekend?”
You glance back up at Lee and he nods an affirmative. “This weekend’s perfect,” you smile. “The boys coming too?”
“Maybe James but I don’t know about those other two,” your mom says taking over the conversation.
“I just want to know how much to cook for.”
“We’ll get back to you before Friday,” your mom assures you.
“Alright. Thank you. I love you all.”
“We love you, too, baby,” you mom replies.
“We love you, sweetheart,” you dad calls. You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone.
“Was that so hard?” Lee purrs pulling you a little closer. You level a look at him knowing the hard part had yet to come. “Oh don’t give me that face,” he smirks and pulls you into a kiss. “We’re gonna eat then we’re going to fuck and I’m going to take your mind completely off of this.” You lift a skeptical brow at him. “You know I’m good for it.” It was true. He was good at fucking your troubles away.
“I should’ve just told them over the phone,” you muse.
“Call ‘em back then,” Lee sighs and walks over to the table knowing you won’t do it and earning a glare from you. He holds out his hand for you and you instantly go to him. “You won’t do it because you know everything will be fine. Now sit down so we can eat then I can have my dessert.” You suppress a smile before taking the spot across from him.
He stays true to his word and you forget all about it. Until Saturday morning. Until your nerves made you throw up your breakfast. Until you show up at his house with a bag of groceries.
“Caramel, you look like you’re about to have a conniption,” Lee greets taking the bag from you.
“I think I am,” you sigh, stepping out of your heels. “Lee, I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Too late. Your parents have probably already packed up the car. Can’t call it off now.” You groan and drop your face into his chest. He was right. Plus you wanted to be his wife. You wanted to be his.
He’s traditional. He wants to respect you and your family. He wants to do this right.
“Come on. I’m going to finish getting the house cleaned up then I’ll come help you.” You nod and make yourself comfortable in the kitchen. It’s easy. Over the couple of months you’ve spent dating, you’d made several meals in this kitchen. Brought over your own supplies and seasonings. It didn’t get much use since Lee’s ex left so it’s yours to do with how you wished. You sigh as you can’t help but think you’d soon start making every meal in this kitchen. You imagine your kitten chasing his toys across the tile while a baby bangs on a pot at your feet.
All you had to do was introduce him to your family first.
You tuck a chicken into the oven just as Lee steps into your borrowed domain.
“How’s it going in here?” He questions wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzling his face in your neck.
You giggle at his stubble tickling your skin. “Just about to start dessert.”
“Mmmm I know all about that one,” Lee hums into your skin before kissing your neck.
“Do you?” You smile.
“Don’t ask me shit about making a roast or a casserole, but dessert is my specialty. And I’ve got the best ingredient right here.”
“Lee,” you giggle knowing exactly what he’s up to. “I have to finish this.”
“Just a taste, caramel? To hold me over til dinner?” His hands roam up your skirt and press your panties down your hips. You let out a soft whimper as his kisses along your neck get rougher.
“Lee,” you whine. “Help me with this and I’ll be done faster,” you insist.
“Fine,” he groans. “But I’m keeping these.” He bends down to take your panties from around your ankles and twirls them around his finger.
“You’re terrible,” you giggle.
“Your panties say otherwise,” he smirks showing off the trail of slick you left in the crotch of your underwear before tucking them in his pocket. You feel your face heat and you instead focus on your cake. Lee helps measure and stir and soon it’s in the oven next to your chicken.
The second you stand up from placing the pan in the oven, Lee lifts you into his arms sending you into a fit of laughter. “We have some unfinished business to attend to,” he smiles spanking you and placing you on the kitchen counter.
His lips trace the column of your throat. “You brought an extra dress, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sheriff,” you sigh when he grips your thighs.
“Good. This one’s gonna get wrinkled.” He pushes you back across the counter, lifting your legs to have better access to your dripping pussy. His tongue wiggles it’s way between your folds leaving you gasping. You fall back on your elbows and let him eat his fill. He’s so good with that tongue.
The noises he causes you to make should be criminal but he was the law around here. He would know. You bite your lip to stifle a heavy moan but you feel the bite of his hand into your thigh that makes you gasp. “Told you I wanna hear all of it,” Lee grunts into your mound.
“Y-yes, sheriff,” you whimper.
“Good girl.” He presses kisses from your mound to your belly, letting his fingers take his tongue’s place. “So good for me. You wanna let me in, sweet girl?”
You nod widening your legs a little more to allow for his girth. “Want you screaming for me first,” Lee sighs and unbuttons the front of your dress with one hand, exposing your cleavage. You’re too distracted by his wondering hand to notice what he’s doing inside you.
“Eeeh! Lee!” You cry as her works the pads of his fingers against that spot.
“That’s it,” he smirks before pressing a kiss between your breasts. You whimper a string of pleas as he works your insides. He knows your body so well. He found spots in you that you didn’t even know existed and here he was playing you like his favorite instrument.
“MmmmmgnhLee! Lee-ahh! I’m gonna! I’m!” You feel the dam inside you break as you let loose a high pitched scream. “I-I-ahhh!” You pant as he continues to stimulate you through your orgasm. “P-please! Pleaeeee!” You feel something shoot from you that your can’t control.
“I knew you had it in you, caramel,” Lee chuckles and finally removes his fingers slowly but you still feel raw.
“Wha-what did you do?” You gasp pressing yourself up to see your boyfriend.
He shows you his soaked hand before licking a strip from the base of his index and middle finger to their tips. “Made you squirt, my little caramel delight.”
“That came from me?” You cry in embarrassment.
“Sure did. And it’s fucking delicious.” Your face heats as you attempt to shy away but Lee captures your lips in a kiss, undoing his belt buckle and sliding his pants down in a matter of seconds. His penis slips into you so easily that you whine against his lips but he just shushes you.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Gonna fill you up with me, sweet girl. Can’t wait until you’re big and round with my baby.”
“Lee,” you whine at his filthy words. He normally wears condoms but they’ve become so optional lately. Not by choice but you two keep getting caught up in the moment. But once or twice won’t hurt, right?
At least that’s what you told yourself.
“Tell me you don’t want me to knock you up and I’ll stop right now,” he grunts into the bend of your neck.
But you can’t deny him. “Fuck, I want your baby!” You scream.
“That’s what I thought. Gripping the shit out of me. Your body definitely wants my baby!” You whimper at his words and cling to his shoulders desperately on the verge of another orgasm.
“Please, Lee! Please, please, please! Give it to me! Claim me!”
“Whatever you want, caramel,” Lee groans as his thrusts become faster and more erratic. You let loose another high pitched scream as you come around him just in time for his seed to pump into your core. “Fuck,” Lee moans and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You okay?” You nod letting out a shaky exhale. “Want me to pull out?” You shake your head adamantly tugging him closer to you. Lee only lets out a soft laugh and pulls you into his arms. “Let’s go lay down for a minute.” You nod again and let him carry you to the couch.
You jump awake from Lee’s embrace at the sound of buzzing from the kitchen. He still slept soundly under you. He looks so comfortable. You just want to curl back into him but you knew the buzzing would soon wake him up, too. You go to the kitchen to remove your items from the oven and finish up the rest of your meal. You finish mashing potatoes and make sure they’re well seasoned and buttered before waking up your man.
“Lee, honey?” You call over the couch before you go to make room to sit on it’s edge. “Lee?” He lets out a sputtered snore before stretching. “Hey,” you smile, “It’s time to wake up.”
“Anything you want, sweetness,” he yawns. You could just kiss him.
“We need to go change,” you rationalize instead, taking in the state of both your clothes.
“Alright,” he groans. You take his hand and lead him upstairs to his room then attempt to keep your hands to yourself as you change into a new pair of underwear and dress.
“I got you something I was hoping you’d wear tonight,” Lee announces as you attempt to zip yourself up. He stops you and pulls the zipper up your back before draping something around your neck. You touch what feels like jewelry before he releases you to look at it in the mirror. A stunning silver tennis necklace rest around your collar and you almost cry.
“Oh, Lee! It’s beautiful!” You finger the piece for a second before rushing him into a hug. “I love it! You didn’t have to,” you whisper.
“Just something to show your folks I’m serious about you.” And like clockwork you hear a car pull up to the house outside. You stiffen in his arms and he pats your head in return. “Don’t clam up on me now. Moment of truth.” He peeks out the window to see your brother’s Ford. “Looks like your bothers came,” he trails as you rush to make sure your hair and makeup don’t look like all the events of this morning transpired.
“I’d say they’ll try to give you the third degree but I doubt they’ll get passed the front door without cracking.”
“You look beautiful,” Lee insists tugging you to the door. “Come on.”
You follow him downstairs and he opens the door before there’s even a knock to reveal your two brothers.
They look absolutely shocked staring at Lee. A minute of silence passes between the three of them and you can’t help but stand by and watch it play out. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re trying to meet our sister. You wouldn’t happen to know where 1750 Meadowland Ln is?”
Lee smirks in amusement. “You’ve got the right place. This the sister you’re looking for?” He steps aside revealing you and they instantly light up but you can see the gears working in their heads as soon as they register what’s going on.
“He’s white?” John barks at you.
“Told you,” you smirk at Lee. “James. John. This is Lee,” you introduce the men stiffly.
Lee holds out a hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Your sister talks mighty highly of you two.”
“We’ve heard quite a bit about you, too, sir. Not enough, obviously,” James says pointedly at you, always the more mature one of the two, while shaking Lee’s hand.
“Ma and pa are gonna kill you,” John snickers.
You swat his arm and usher them inside. “Take off your shoes. Lee just vacuumed. Where are they anyway? I told them not to bring anything.”
“You know your parents,” John sighs bending down to undo his shoes. “Ma brought biscuits and gravy and pa’s giving your car a check up.”
Lee just laughs and slips on some loafers before tugging you outside.
“Pa, what are you doing?” You laugh seeing your dad waist deep in your car’s hood.
“You getting an oil change every three months like I told you?”
“Changed it myself two weeks ago,” Lee pipes up. Your mother notices him first and almost drops the casserole dish she’s holding as she stares at the man who’s hands are gripping your shoulders.
“This engine block looks spotless,” comes your father’s muffled reply.
“Pa,” you mother pats his back trying to get his attention. She repeats herself. “You should really get out of that car and say ‘hi’ to your daughter.” You father finally dislodges himself for the vehicle, “What could possibly be so important-“ His gaze meets yours, then Lee’s then back to you. A forced smile covers his features before stepping up to the two of you. “You must be Lee. Nice to meet you, son.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
You escape Lee’s grip to take the dish from your mother. “A little warning would’ve been nice,” she mutters to you before pressing a kiss to your cheek. You cringe at the statement but take the dish anyway.
She rushes over to greet Lee with a hug. “I’m so excited to finally meet you! It’s nice to put a face to a name.”
Lee tucks her arm in his and leads her to the house leaving you to walk with your father. He gives you an odd look, one that tells you you’re going to have a serious talk later but you just smile up at him. “I’m so happy you’re here. I missed y’all.”
“Missed you, too, sweetpea.” He presses a kiss to your temple.
“How hard did you have to fight to get Johnny here?”
Your dad snorts out a laugh. “John was more curious than anything. Jacob wanted to be here but he’s got a new round of recruits to destroy.” You smirk at your brother’s abuse of authority after his promotion in the army. He spent his whole life as your eldest brother ordering the three of you around and found his perfect fit as a staff sergeant. You doubt he’ll bother to promote.
“Oh, Lee, your home is beautiful,” your mother smiles looking around.
“Why, thank you, ma’am. Let me give you a tour.”
“Call me Jess,” your mom insists calling your father to follow them to the yard. “A pool?” You hear her exclaim making you smile. Your brothers on the other hand follow you to the kitchen.
“I knew this neighborhood was too white,” James grins inspecting your chicken leaving you to slap his hand away after you place your mother’s dish in the oven to reheat it.
“All the neighborhoods are white in Meade,” you sigh handing them each a stack of plates and silverware and showing them to the dinning room.
“But this one is…,” John trails looking out the window to see the neighbors across the street peaking out their window.
“We aren’t in Tennessee. Let’s just say that,” James sighs.
“Well, you’re safe here,” you smile.
“Why? What’s he do?”
“He’s the sheriff.”
“He’s a cop, too?” James gasps. “There’s no way his boss is gonna let you marry him.”
“He’s not a cop,” you correct. “He’s the sheriff.”
“How the fuck did you get in bed with the sheriff?” John hisses.
“Well, being the only black person in Knockemstiff, I got the cops called on me quite a bit. That’s how we met.”
“That’s insane,” John breathes. “He got some kind of thing for black girls?”
“No,” you giggle. “He’s sweet, if not a little rough around the edges.”
James glares at you for a moment. “You got some kind of thing for white men?”
Your face heats at the accusation. “No,” you laugh, brushing him off.
“Mmmhmm,” James gives you a drawn out hum.
“You know our sister. She’s always wanted a white knight,” John smirks. “She reads too many fantasy books.”
“For all we know, his grandpa could’ve owned our grandpa.” You frown at James’ words but just focus on the table, straightening the silverware your brothers put down.
“What’s got y’all so quiet in here?” Lee asks, wrapping his arms around your waist as the three older people enter the dinning room.
“Nothing,” you squeak. “Y’all hungry?” Lee hums an affirmative in your ear before pressing a kiss to your neck. “Ma, can you help me with the chicken?”
“Of course, sweetpea.” Your mom follows you to the kitchen. “Lee seems nice,” she reveals once you’re alone. She slices up your chicken with the precision of a professional while you place everything in a matching set of bowls you found in the back of Lee’s cupboards.
“He is nice,” you agree.
“Bit old.” You shrug at the comment that you’ve heard a million times. “He’s been married before?” You nod. “What happened to his last wife?”
“Unreconcilable differences. On her part.”
“Your pa isn’t happy about this one bit,” she informs you.
Your already fried nerves sizzle just a little more at the information. “Please talk to him,” you whisper.
“What makes you think I’ll do that?” Your mother scoffs incredulously.
“I love him.”
“Love does not excuse hundreds of years of history,” she frowns. “He seems to love you, too. It’s all so bizarre, you have to understand that, sweetheart. A white man and a black woman just doesn’t make sense. Now, you are a smart, beautiful girl, you can find someone within your own class.”
You hold back tears at her words, your nose runs, betraying you, forcing you to sniffle to keep yourself in check.
“Do you need a moment to compose yourself?” You nod and your mother leaves the room with the chicken.
Your eyes narrow at her retreating form.
Why was she doing this to you? You thought she’d want you to be happy. You thought all of them wanted you to be happy.
You watch Lee laugh at something James said and greet your mother like she’s carrying a bag of gold. He bites his bottom lip while she serves him a thigh and his gaze lands on you waiting in the door way. He gives you your own private grin making you return it weakly.
Well, that’s it then. You were hoping to share the information for a better occasion but this would have to suffice.
You serve your father first then Lee. “Thank you, caramel apple.” You bend down and place a kiss on his lips.
“Enjoy, handsome,” you mutter against his lips, trying to keep the sadness from tinging your voice.
“Well, you two certainly seem happy,” James smirks.
“We are happy,” you smile and take your spot to Lee’s right.
Lee bends toward you seeing your melancholy face. “What’s going on?” You just shake your head. He lets out a sigh and your father starts saying grace ending any further conversation. The meal is pleasant. The conversation is cordial. There were a lot of questions about Lee’s job, what he does exactly as sheriff.
“I’m basically a glorified complaint box,” Lee jokes. “I don’t have the authority to change much around here but I’m required to respond to them.” You smile up at him. “Ain’t much that goes on in this county. My sister’s death was the biggest scandal we’ve ever had.”
“Oh my! I’m sorry to hear that,” you mother imparts.
“No, she got wrapped up with this piece of shit. Tried to help her but she didn’t want any of that.”
“What happened?” James whispers earning a whack in the arm from John.
“You don’t have to tell us. I’m sorry for my insensitive brother.”
“It’s fine. I don’t even think I told your sister the whole story. She was, uh, picking up hitchhikers with her husband and killing ‘em and, well, doing unmentionable acts with their corpses.” You gasp and cover your mouth with your hand in shock. Why hadn’t he told you this?
“They picked up the wrong one,” Lee continues. “This boy’s a local, actually. He shot ‘em both dead. It was a fucking shit show. Everyday they were pulling bodies out of the river for a month. There are still some unaccounted for. I thought for sure I’d get kicked out of office. But I just handled it by the book. We were hardly close by the time she died so I was able to keep my feelings out of it. Still hard to lose the only family you have left.” You grip his hand, all those tears you had held back for you, fell for him. You press a kiss to his palm before whispering an ‘I love you’. A chorus of ‘sorry’s rolls around the table.
“The folks around here are odd. They do weird shit because they’re in a small town without much oversight. That’s why I kept such a close eye on your daughter. I couldn’t bare for anything to happen to her.”
“We appreciate you for that, Lee,” you father intones. He doesn’t say anything about the boy who lived here before. It does make you wonder if there’s more to that story now that you know a little bit more about this town.
You sniffle softly but attempt to stifle it to keep from drawing attention but of course Lee notices.
“Hey, come here.” He pulls you away from the table.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper to your family before following your boyfriend.
Lee leans against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest and levels his gaze at you.
“What’s going on?” You shake your head softly, dropping your gaze to your feet as a tear escapes your control. Lee sighs and pinches your chin so you’ll focus on him, making more tears fall from your eyes. “Oh, caramel. You can’t tell me nothing’s wrong. You’re fucking crying.”
You can’t help but smile softly before failing into his embrace. “I love you.”
“I love you more. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
You start to shake your head again but think better of it. “They don’t like this. My ma says I should break up with you. My pa isn’t happy. My brothers are skeptical. I just-I don’t know what to do.”
Lee lets out a thoughtful hum while he squeezes you a little tighter. “You know what to do. You know exactly what you want. You just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
He’s right. You sniffle once more and Lee pulls out a handkerchief for you to wipe your nose.
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” You shake your head. At least not right now. You take a couple of breaths to compose yourself and take him back to the dinning room with your caramel cake.
You both sit back down with four sets of eyes on you while you slice up equal pieces.
“Ma. Pa,” you start as you hand out the slices. “I know you aren’t happy with my choice in partners but I am. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with Lee. He makes me laugh and keeps me safe and comfortable. I don’t plan on leaving him because you don’t approve.” You set a slice of cake in front of Lee and meet his gaze. “Especially since I’m carrying his baby.”
Hell breaks loose around you as your mother bursts into tears and your father begins shouting. John starts laughing and James is in a stunned silence.
But you don’t care about any of it. All of your attention is captured by those glacier blue eyes you fell in love with.
“Caramel apple sugar plum. You better not be lying to me,” Lee warns with a small frown. You knew this would happen so you tug out the doctor’s form from your dress pocket confirming your positive pregnancy test and the estimations for how far along you were. “Six to eight weeks?” He mutters. You nod with a smile. “Good god, you’re having my baby!” You nod again giggling as he pulls you into his arms. “I love you! I love you! I love you!” He repeats while placing kisses across your face.
“I love you. So much,” you whisper between kisses.
You’re perched on the kitchen counter as Lee washes dishes. Your family left for your house hours ago. They didn’t even stay for coffee.
You accept a bowl to dry and let out a soft sigh.
“I guess we haven’t been very careful,” Lee smirks while scrubbing your mother’s casserole dish. You only smile and remember the many times he came in you without protection with the thought that ‘it’s only once. Once won’t get you pregnant’. Until once became once a week.
You stack the dishes on the drying towel next to you and wait for the next one. “I guess we should get married before you start showing.”
“Suddenly worried about appearances?” You joke.
“No bride wants to be pregnant on her wedding day,” he rationalizes. You just hum in response. “Dinner was amazing, by the way. I’m sorry your family couldn’t enjoy it.”
You let out another sigh. “They’ll come around. This will be their first grand baby after all.”
Lee passes you the last utensil and dries his hands while looking out the window above the sink. “The stars look awful pretty tonight. Let’s go look at ‘em.”
“Oh, Lee. I just want to take a shower and go to bed,” you whine.
“Come on, caramel. Just a couple of minutes.” His pale blue eyes plead up at you. You can never say no to him. You place your hands on his shoulders to lift you from the counter and you follow him outside.
The stars do look pretty. You sigh and stand at the edge of the pool watching the moon reflect on the dark water’s surface.
“You happy here, caramel?”
“You know I love this pool,” you smile before looking up at the sky.
“I mean are you happy here, with me?”
You spin to face the man before griping both of his hands. “Oh Lee, of course I’m happy with you. I feel safe and at home with you. I defied my family for you. I love you.”
“I’ve never been as happy as I’ve been with you. I was hoping to do this with your folks here but they don’t seem too pleased with me.” He lets out a soft grunt as he takes a knee in front of you. Yours eyes widen at the action. Men only get on on one knee for one thing…
“Will you do me the honor of keeping me the happiest man on earth by becoming my wife?” He pulls out a small box and tucked inside is a beautiful silver ring.
“Oh my God.” Tears pool in your eyes as you clasp your free hand over your mouth to keep your bottom lip from quivering. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious,” Lee laughs. “Now will you marry me or did I get on the ground from nothing?”
“Yes!” You cry and fall into his arms. “Yes, Lee! A hundred times yes!” Lee lifts you to spin you almost falling into the pool and sending you both into a fit of giggles.
“Give me that hand, caramel,” Lee mutters after setting you down on your feet. He slips the ring on your finger before kissing the back of your hand. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” you grin.
“No, I love you more. End of conversation,” he laughs. “Bed?” You nod and follow him back in the house.
You should go home, make sure your parents and brothers are settled in alright. But they know where everything is. And you don’t want to leave Lee’s side. You’ll check on them in the morning. Right now, you just want to curl up with your future husband and think of baby names until you fall asleep rubbing each other’s tummies.
“How’d you hide the morning sickness?” Lee asks suddenly after you tuck your hands under his night shirt reveling in his warmth.
You hum softly in thought. “It hasn’t been too bad actually,” you sigh. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to keep it from you for much longer though. The detergent you use on your uniforms kinda sets it off,” you admit.
“Are you serious? I was all over you last week,” he chuckles.
“And I was so brave,” you giggle. “I think I spent about five minutes dry heaving.”
He spanks you softly. “That’s for keeping secrets.”
“It was a surprise,” you insist taking his hand and putting it back on your stomach. It’s a comforting weight. “What do you want?”
“I don’t care. As long as it’s healthy,” Lee sighs. He reaches under the hem of your borrowed night shirt and places his palm on your bare skin, rubbing small circles around your belly button.
“I want a boy,” you smile shyly.
“Hm? Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. Probably because I have so many brothers. I want to raise him to be just like you.”
“He’ll be better than me,” Lee sighs and presses his forehead to yours. “Thank you, caramel.”
“For what?” You whisper cupping his face in your hands.
“For giving me the one thing I’ve always wanted.”
You smile and press a kiss to his lips. “I love you,” you breathe.
“I love you more.”
You were married two weeks later.
It was a bitch to get a license. Even though laws against interracial marriage were deemed unconstitutional, backwards Meade, Ohio had other ideas. You had to get a license all the way to the nation’s capital so you decided to make a pre wedding honeymoon out of it. Well, you’d be married on paper but it doesn’t really count unless it happens in a church. But you enjoyed the time away. You and Lee spent a week practicing calling each other ‘husband and wife’ while touring the hot spots of the east coast. You spent a couple of nights in D.C. then saw the inner harbor in Maryland, you got photos in front of the liberty bell in Philadelphia and ended your tour with two nights in New York City before heading back home for the actual wedding.
It was a small ceremony at your church. All your friends were there and a few of the deputies but your parents refused to join you. Your brothers came though. Jacob gave you away all dressed up in his class As. Eunice made you a two tier white cake and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.
And your friends weren’t surprised in the least you discretely told them you were expecting.
“I knew y’all were rushing for a reason,” Cora tutted as they fixed your dress for photos.
“How far along are you?” May whispered with wide eyes, glancing between your face and your stomach.
“About two months now,” you grin excitedly.
“I hope it’s a boy. I want Marcus to have a little playmate,” May continues talking about her own little one.
“Me too!” The four of you giggle.
“You got married just in time. You’ll start showing soon enough,” Eunice sighs. “You’d never find a dress with a belly.”
“No! We got so lucky! They had just your size on the rack,” Cora smiles. “Alright. You look gorgeous. Time to commemorate it for all time.” You grin and hug them before taking your place next to Lee.
His lips quirk into a smile seeing you. “There’s the misses,” he drawls making you smile. Mrs. Bodecker. You still had to practice your new signature but you already had your new name down packed.
Later that evening after all the festivities ended and the sun went down and you drove back to your new to you home, Lee carried you over the threshold of his house to the amusement of your kitten. He batted at your veil and train while Lee carried you upstairs.
You moved all your things in a week ago. You were already pregnant, there’s no point in prolonging the process any further.
“Shoo, pipsqueak. I got business with your momma,” Lee chuckles avoiding the small cat. You smile at their antics and press a kiss to Lee’s cheek.
“I love you,” you whisper. “I’m all yours now. Officially. And before the eyes of God,” you laugh thinking of your official wedding date that was almost two weeks ago now.
“All mine. In every way,” Lee grins and lays you across the bed. “You looked real pretty today but I know you look even prettier without all that white on.” You laugh and sit up so he can help you unbutton your dress. “Much better,” he sighs once there’s a pile of white lace and satin at the end of his bed and you’re left in just a white set of underwear you got for the occasion. “But there’s still a little of white, caramel. I want it all off.” You bite your bottom lip and reach behind you to remove your bra. You hold it out to drop it on the floor. “Getting warmer.” You finally tuck your thumbs into the sides of your garter belt and panties and shimmy them down your hips. “Perfect,” Lee hums and presses you back down on the bed with a kiss. His large hand splays across your stomach. “Is that…?” Lee whispers pulling away slightly to sit back on his heels to run both his hands over your stomach. “Are you starting to show?”
“Am I?” You ask genuinely curious. “Maybe I just ate too much cake,” you laugh.
“Nah. You’re definitely growing a little bump,” he smiles making you giggle. He hums positively and runs his hands up to your breasts to massage your nipples into peaks leaving you squirming under him. “Don’t move,” Lee commands as he pulls away making you chase his lips for more kisses.
He unbuttons his shirt quickly making you bite your lip in anticipation. You watch as he strips showing off his perfect for cuddling body. “Lee,” you whimper in need, wiggling your hips.
“Didn’t I tell you not to move?” Lee smirks as he undoes his dress pants. His swollen cock springs free of his underwear and you’re left practically salivating.
“Need you.”
“Need me, huh?” Lee crawls over you as you spread your legs for him. “That’s rich coming for a woman who I undoubtedly need more.” He nips at your throat before kissing down to your breast. A finger runs along your slit rubbing lightly at your clit and making you squirm. You groan slightly, tossing your head back against the pillows. “You gonna let me in, caramel?” You nod, spreading your legs even further so he’ll touch you more. Connect with you deeper. That’s all you want.
“Please, Lee,” you whisper. His tip rubs against your slit roughly, pushing his way into and bumping your clit along the way leaving you a moaning mess.
“I got you, sweet girl,” he mutters before pulling you into orgasmic bliss with him.
“Look! Who’s that?” You ask your two year old pointing through the open office door. “Is that daddy?”
“Dada!” The toddler screams and runs through the sheriff’s department’s halls.
Lee glances up from his paper work and immediately lights up. “There’s my sweet girl!” He grins getting up to lift the girl high over his head. You can’t help but smile at your daughter’s excitement.
You step up to him just as he places the girl on his hip. “And there’s my sweetest girl,” he smirks before placing a kiss on your lips. “Missed you today.”
“You miss me everyday,” you giggle and kiss him again.
“Well, I missed you today in particular,” he jokes kissing you again.
“Why what happened today?”
He gives you a haughty look and you know he’s about to mess with you. “Johnson‘s girl brought him lunch today.”
“You are so jealous,” you laugh shaking your head. “Well, I’ll let Nichelle have your next baby.”
You turn away from him playfully but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back. “Oh, no, you aren’t.” His large hand rests on your swollen belly rubbing a small tight circle. “I don’t want to see anyone pregnant with my kids but you.”
“Lee,” you giggle softly.
“Besides, I think you brought me more than my kids.”
“Did I? Oh, I think I forgot it at home…”
Lee just hums and plucks the paper bag you brought in from your hand. “Been waiting on this all day, caramel,” he groans while you grin up at him. “Go sit. I don’t want you on your feet too much.” He commands now that he has his food.
“Yes, daddy,” you smirk and take his desk chair.
“Carmella, did you help your momma make this wonderful lunch?”
“Dada!” The girl cries attempting to rip his badge from his shirt. Lee just smiles and lets her. She could murder a man and he’d think it was the most precious thing in the world. You sigh contently as you watch your little family, your hand finding your stomach as you think about how much it’s going to grow.
“Been thinking about looking for a bigger place,” Lee sighs after taking a bite of his pot roast.
“Oh no,” you deny quickly. “I love our house.”
“We’re gonna outgrow it pretty soon.”
“How many babies do you want, Lee?” You laugh.
“As many as you’ll give me, caramel apple.”
“Let’s get through this one before you start trying to get me pregnant again,” you smile.
“Did you at least bring dessert?”
“There’s a ginger snap in there. I gave the rest to the boys when I came in.”
“One?” Lee frowns and you give him a pointed look.
“The doctor said to lower your sugar intake. I want you around to help me raise all these kids.”
Lee just sighs and continues working on his food. Men.
“Hey, Sheriff. Mrs. Sheriff,” the department secretary greets knocking once on the open door. “We’ve got some coloring books in here.” Lee lights up and looks at your daughter.
“You wanna go color, baby girl?” She nods attempts to squirm out of her father’s lap. “Go have fun.”
“And be good. Mind your manners for Ms. Lisa. Thank you!” You bid the secretary as she holds out her hand.
“And close the door on you way out,” Lee calls over his shoulder.
He just watches you for a moment over his desk as Lisa’s heels click away.
“Get up and bend over that desk,” he orders sharply and you quickly obey, wiggling your hips in anticipation. Lee approaches you from behind and lifts your dress over your hips and gives you a harsh spanking to your bare ass. “Such a naughty little thing coming in here with no panties.” You whine softly as Lee circles you. “Looks like you want to be punished.” You nod tightly, biting your bottom lip to keep your voice in check. You hear a belt and a zipper before Lee’s big palms connects to your hips.
“You gonna be a good girl and take your punishment?” You nod again quickly. “And you’re gonna keep quiet?”
“Yes, Lee,” you whisper. And attempt to hump his crotch.
“Calm down. I’m not gonna leave you wanting.” His hard cock teases your folds as you attempt to keep still for him. You need this so bad. If the two of you knew having children would greatly stunt your sex life, you would’ve held out for a few more months.
But you wouldn’t trade Carmella for the world.
You just desperately needed your brains fucked out of you.
And as Lee’s thick head breeches your core, you know you’re about to get your wish.
“Please, Lee. Please please please,” you chant as he bottoms out in you.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Lee groans gripping your hips a little tighter. “Always so tight for me, caramel. Can’t believe a baby came out of here.”
You just whine and try to keep it down to avoid notice from the rest of the department.
You let out a squeak as he thrusts roughly right into that spot.
You don’t how you’re going to stay quiet.
With each thrust the pounding in your ears gets louder and you can’t help but get more vocal.
“Right there! Please, Lee!” You husk into his desk, smothering your face into the dark wood.
“Right there, caramel? Is that where you need daddy?”
“Yes, daddy! Please!” Your needy humping attempting to keep up with his fluid thrust. “So close,” you whimper as the knot inside you gets tighter and tighter. You stand on your toes, gripping the edge of the desk, just to get a little more. That high making you freeze and succumb to your husband’s mercy. “Uh, uh, uh, huh! Huaaaah!” You moan as you come undone. Stars fill you vision as Lee presses against that spot so you can chase your high. Your breaths come in quick huffs as you start to come down.
You already want more.
“You alright?” You nod attempting to catch your breath. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he groans. “Wanna see you,” Lee groans softly and pulls out leaving you feeling so empty. You needed him back inside you.
You quickly turned over, sitting on the desk with your dress bunched around your waist. You aren’t big enough yet to make this position uncomfortable but it still required some contorting.
Lee easily lifted your leg over his shoulder, sliding you to the edge of the desk, and reentering your core. You release a soft sigh as he fills you and buck against his hips for a little more friction.
Your panting sighs fill the room and Lee finds your lips, melding them together as you lean back on your elbows.
“Please, Lee. Need it,” you whimper against his lips. “Please, daddy. Fill me up!”
“Quiet!” Lee hisses, spanking your hip making you squeak in shock and pleasure. “Fuck, I’m close,” he groans into your neck. His thrust become more erratic and faster as your soft whines fill spur him on. That tight knot in your body get tighter and higher just a little faster and harder. Please, please, please.
“Nnngh,” you moan biting your lip as your hips still while Lee finishes inside of you. His warmth spreads across your insides leaving your full and satisfied.
“Fuck,” Lee sighs pressing his forehead against yours while taking deep breaths. “You alright?” He asks, pressing a hand to your swollen stomach.
You nod quickly before falling back on the desk in a comfortable heap. Lee chuckles softly while watching you come down from your high.
“What?” You ask softly closing your eyes against the harsh fluorescent light.
“It’s gonna smell like sex in here for a week,” he discloses making you giggle.
“Shame we can’t do this in our own bed anymore,” you smile.
“And who’s fault is that?”
“I can’t say ‘no’ to that cute, little face. She wants to be close to her momma.” You lets out a soft sigh as he pulls his softening cock out of you. You wait for Lee to wipe you down with a handkerchief but it never happens so you lift up on your elbows to see where he went.
You find your husband studying your dripping pussy and it makes you clench around nothing.
Those bright blue eyes snap up to yours and a smirk spreads across your Lee’s lips.
“You still not satisfied, caramel?” You bite your bottom lip again as his big hand grips your thigh. “One more?” You nod quickly as his finger spread his cum across your swollen lips and dip inside of you to get you off once more.
“Momma!” Your baby cries seeing you as Lee walks you out of the department.
“There’s my baby. What’d you draw?” You ask bending over the desk your daughter took over with crayons and scrap paper.
“Momma, Kitty, me, dada, pony” she says pointing at the individual blobs on the paper.
“Pony?” You laugh and start cleaning up the crayons.
“I took her to see the mounted deputies the other day. Did I tell you she wants a horse?” Lee grins stepping behind you to inspect the image, placing a large hand on the small of your back and sending a shiver down your spine. You should’ve spent a few more minutes in his office. “Mommy and daddy will have to think about a horse, baby,” you explain to the child, giving your husband and side eye as she reaches for Lee to lift her up.
“That’s beautiful, baby,” he grins picking up the girl and the drawing and ignoring you. “I think I’ll hang it up in my office.” He takes her back to his office to find the perfect spot for his new art while you clean up.
“Thanks again, Lisa.”
“Anytime,” she smiles. “I have four. It’s hard to get time alone,” the secretary winks just as your husband returns. He grabs your hand before you can feel too embarrassed by the statement and leads you to your car.
“Alright, sweet girl. I’ll see you when I get home,” he promises the girl as she cuddles into his chest, clinging to him stubbornly. He places her in the back seat with minimal protest before turning to you. “And I’ll see you tonight, my sweetest girl.” You smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” you whisper and accept a soft kiss before Lee opens your car door.
“We’re getting her out of our bed this weekend,” Lee promises for the hundredth time which only makes you smile and nod.
“Of course we are, Sheriff.”
“This time, I mean it,” Lee assures you with a stern look. “Drive safe.”
“Yes, Sheriff,” you smile right before he bangs on the hood of your car and you head back to the library to finish your own work day.
Of course Lee attempts once more to get your daughter to sleep in her own room. And once again it ends with her lying in between the two of you, curled up next to your cat. Everyone right where they belong.
Except for the horse.
Master List
#lee bodecker x black female reader#lee bodecker x reader#lee bodecker x black!female!reader#Lee bodecker x black!reader#lee bodecker fic#lee bodecker smut#Lee Bodecker#nar’s400followerbirthdaycelebration
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Eddie Munson Headcanons
Note: A stream of unconscious thoughts and ideas lol
CW: Swearing (cause i feel VERY pASSIONATELY), pretty much all fluffy and nice because I enjoy happy/nerdy/goofy Eddie, mentions of being high (ofc)
Most definitely has a special stuffed animal he's hidden away, most likely a tiger or polar bear that's been crushed and flattened to all hell. It's so hidden in fact, that Eddie actually forgets where it is. (But Wayne always knows)
Mans loves playing characters at the silliest of times
Like, if his partner wears curlers to bed, he's going to suddenly start acting like a 50's suburban husband (but not in a toxic way!!)
"Work today was brutal, darling! Thompson was kissing up to the boss and trying to butter him up for the new promotion! I'll show him where he can kiss it! And on my way home, I passed these-these teenagers! They were listenin' to some of that rock n' roll racket! Hollywood and it's James Whoevers and Pelvis Elvis, it's all noise!"
He'll rub his eyes and give a big yawn, turning off the lights and doing the dad stumble to bed
Not a lover of Christmas, but if his partner celebrates it and enjoys it, he'll try to find some Christmas spirit
Like, despite the younger ones being in literal high school and having fought horrifying hellish monsters together, he'll force them all to gather near him with their hot cocoas and candy canes as he reads The Night Before Christmas
Yes, of fucking course he's going to do the different voices. His Santa gets better each and every year
You can also guarantee that despite nearing 30 when it comes out, he will go and see The Nightmare Before Christmas when it comes out in the 90s and will enjoy it very much so
He gives me the vibe that even if it's not verbally, if he's feeling down and goes out for a walk, he is greeting every squirrel he sees. I do not give a fuck if you disagree, he's most certainly not a hater of animals. He's a "Hello, squirrel" motherfucker
Honestly, I could see him doing that more if his partner 1. Finds it adorable or 2. Does it themselves
When he's older, especially a dad, he's a silly hat enjoyer. Like, c'mon. Santa hats? Duh. Hats that say crap like "Foxy grandpa"? Yes. It's Thanksgiving dinner and he comes out sporting a turkey hat, type of silly
He says it's ironic, and it might start out that way, but he would definitely love it if he receives silly hats as gifts
Like when he gets to be Wayne's age, he's kicking back with a beer wearing a "Fish fear me, Women want me" hat
He has a special notebook that's filled with little special scraps of paper. It's brown and leather and has straps that wrap around it. He hides it inside of his mattress (cause he unhinged like that)
It has concert tickets, tickets for movies he really liked, notes he's been passed that he thinks are funny or are meaningful, doodles his friends have done, either for him or around him, candy or gum wrappers that he thinks look cool or might never eat again if they're from out of the state or country. There's also folded up posters for Corroded Coffin and zines him and the band made to promote their shows
It looks like a little trash booklet, but it's his trash booklet
When the first gets too full he gets a new one
This one has torn out scraps of catalogs, magazines or newspapers because they're what he used to teach his children different words. Baby formula labels, clothing tags, crayon scribbled napkins
It's just filled with mementos from his true grown adult life
The day he decides to let go of his glorious long hair his friends will all be in mourning. They love him with his new hairstyle, but God, does it sting -- it also signifies, yes, the 80's are dead
But don't worry, he did dress as Frankenfurter for a Halloween gig Corroded Coffin did much to chagrin of the other members before he did the big chop
He did not, however, wear heels or a corset (in public that is </3)
Rockstar!Eddie likes trying to take pictures with the guys in front of either iconic monuments or state/city signs while on tour
It's cute the first couple times, especially when they travel across the world, but it soon turns to:
"Eddie, we have stopped in front of this Idaho sign 5 times already, nobody gives a shiiit", Gareth whines, sleepily rubbing his eyes
"Aw, come on guys, it's tradition!!"
"Get the fuck back on the bus, it's 4 AM", Jeff yawns
Eddie gets them to come around by agreeing to skip seeing the world's biggest yarn ball
Went to the younger ones' graduation and held up the largest, most obnoxious video camera ever (Steve only begrudgingly let him film because Eddie made a point saying Steve should just sit and enjoy this one event)
He screamed at the top of his lungs for each of them resulting in Steve only half-enjoying the event
He has to spin in spiny chairs at least once or he will combust
Keeps ready-to-bake cookie dough in his fridge for smoke seshes
Once made and ate an inside-out peanut butter and jelly sandwhich when he got toooo high and didn't realize what was wrong until he was done and his hands were sticky
Lovingly calls Wayne, "Old man" -- "Whatchu talkin' bout old man?"
Used to carve creepy messages into trees to fuck with people but stopped when someone told him it hurts the tree's feelings
Would love to learn how to cook or bake but doesn't know who to ask/is afraid to ask
Picks up shiny things he sees without even thinking about it
Says, "It's not even that cold" when it's single digit degrees
However would gladly accept a pair homemade of mittens made for him and would wear them every winter
I'll cap it here for now, I might make some more though ^_^ Also, lmk if anyone wants specific headcanons because I have a bunch of ideas like:
◇ Dad!Eddie (Rockstar or mechanic)
◇ 90s!Eddie
◇ Holiday stuff
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Please tell me u never did this
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
THANK YOU SM FOR THIS PROMPT IT WAS SO FUN LMAO
beluz, aged-up / future fic! hope you enjoy :3 cw for mention of suicide in a joking/non-serious manner
it'll be up on ao3 in a jiffy~
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
Philip quickly lowered his newspaper to the table they both sat at, his face scrunched up like he'd smelled something foul. "What the fuck did you just say?"
Luz pouted. Philip never curses, so why now? "Oh, come on. All I said was—"
"Would I still love you if you were—?" Philip dropped the newspaper completely to steeple his fingers together and glare over them at her, his face dead serious—dangerous, almost—like she hadn't seen from him in years. "Luz Noceda, there is nothing on this godforsaken earth—and I mean that, nothing—that could stop the terrible force within me that is my love for you. No man, no God—nothing. Nothing."
"So…" Slowly, a grin spread over Luz's face, her cheeks growing warm. "Even if I was a worm?"
Philip blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then, "Yes," he said, deadpan. "Yes, even then."
Luz squealed happily. "Eep! Yay! So what would you do right now if I turned into a worm?"
His face contorted again, this time into something haughty. He looked down his crooked nose at her unamusedly. "I would turn you back." As if it was obvious.
"And before you could do that?" Luz asked expectantly. "What would you do with worm-me?"
A moment of silence passed where Luz watched as Philip, bathed in the golden light from the dim lamp above them, debated whether or not to continue this silly conversation. Something smug rose in her, bright and bratty. She knew he would fold and continue to play her game.
He always did.
Sure enough, Philip relented with a sigh. "I would put you somewhere safe with some dirt while I looked into worm care." He dropped his chin to look at her indulgently, his voice low and tired. "Luckily, I have a phone now, so it wouldn't be terribly difficult to quickly search for the information. I would just put into a search engine caring for a pet worm and there would be a Reddit thread detailing, at length, the best soil and the best produce and the best lighting to leave you in."
"True." Luz nodded, her index fingers pressed against her lips. She appreciated his attention to detail. Still, she wasn't quite done tormenting him. "If you couldn't turn me back, what then? What would you do?"
A look crossed over Philip's face, like he wanted to be angry, but then it fell and he sighed. "I would be devastated." Luz blinked widely at his honestly, her hands falling to the table. "You're the greatest joy in my life and to see all your potential fall away into what would be, essentially, the death of your human self… It would destroy me. I don't know how long worms live, Luz, but I would care for that worm for as long as it lived, hoping above hope that my little Luz was happy. If worms can even be happy."
"This got way more serious than I meant it to—"
"And when that worm would die, Luz, I would hold a proper funeral. There would be a service, one deserving of the young woman I had so loved. And I would bury you for one final time in the dirt you had so loved, perhaps even with the dirt you had created in your enclosure. Afterwards, I would kill myself."
Luz jumped in her seat. "What the fuck?!"
All at once, Philip's serious facade melted away and he erupted into laughter, his wicked cackles so loud they shook the dining room walls. "Your face! Your face!"
Feeling her face grow hot (and her chest grow light), Luz glared at him. "I hope I become a worm and you suffer with a little worm girlfriend!"
Philip's laughter quieted, but only because he was out of breath. "I already have a little worm girlfriend."
"You're the worst!" But Luz couldn't help laughing along with him, shaking her head at his wide, toothy grin.
That was Philip, she supposed. Always one step ahead.
"If you turned into a worm, I'd eat you."
"No, you would not."
"I so would. I would."
"No!"
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@brassandblue ;; Continued...
As if waiting for such a vague response, Arthur snapped up the previous day’s newspaper from his desk and practically flung the folded papers at the other man.
“More labor disputes! And—fine, if that’s the hill you’d like to die on, so be it! But this here? This is one of my companies and partnerships and I am being asked why you’re stirring up trouble!” Bristling, Arthur leaned over his desk, hands spread across the polished marble, cold, with burning eyes focused and locked on Noel.
“If you want to go blacken your lungs by playing canary, that’s all well and good, but don’t fuck things up for the rest of us.”
He cheeks were slightly flushed red with anger as he simmered and glared, even bared his teeth as he spoke again. And his tone shifted into a thin timbre, heavy-laden with a considerable amount of frost.
“You are my friend, Noel, and my counterpart in so many ways. We each have our responsibilities, our obligations.” He held his gaze, as still as the hewn stone resting beneath his fingers.
“As the Empire, I will not allow you to interfere with mine. Consider this your final warning.”
As soon as the paper was tossed into sight, it was snatched up into Noel’s grip, crumpling it significantly more than it already had been. He had guessed that this was due to indignation upon recognising what had happened. There was no mention of Noel’s name anywhere, at least from his rapid skimming of the article. Perhaps had this been a few decades earlier, he’d have never heard a word in his direction from Arthur about what had happened in that particular factory but alas, with the advent of photographic cameras that could capture far brighter an accuracy of a moment than a particularly skilled and quick sketch artist could ever dream of accomplishing, it was clear enough exactly who it was toting a wounded child out of the building, another three scampering behind him.
Sabotage of such places had become fairly commonplace in Noel’s activities between funding the research behind what made various types of dogs tick and seeking crises in which his undying body could readily play the hero.
Neatly, and taking great care to juxtapose his action with the furious tossing that had preceeded the paper, it was folded and placed carefully back on the desk between them. He had no hope of denying that it was him there, that was beyond even a hypnotist’s scope of skill.
But there was nothing different about this round of recriminations he could detect. Just like any other he’d received before this one, he would simply remain cool and collected, wait for Arthur’s temper to simmer out and he would be on his way in due time with a slap on the wrist and continue just as he had been within a few weeks, once Arthur’d had a moment to move on. At least, it might have been so if he hadn’t been so tempted by the opportunity to make a lashing remark.
“Empire. Sir, what’s even on this b-bloody isle that isn’t part of --your claim? What am I allowed to fight? For I’ll not stand by when I see --injustices taken out on the regular.”
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Modern Monsters: IV
"You're just a fucking monster...what do you know?"
"You're ideas are recycled, just like you. Just DIE already"
"Haha! He can't, remember?"
Frank gently closed the laptop, sitting back and rubbing his eyes.
He shouldn't be reading the comments. He knew that.
Young Maria had warned him. He had succumbed to human curiosity. Only natural.
He rose from the chair, his head barely brushing the ceiling. He had taken to shaving his head, the hair growing in patchy and wild around his many scars. Shaving just made sense. He'd gone to the barber the first time, in the nearby town. Upon seeing him enter, the shop went quiet. He was accustomed to this. He tried to shrink himself, hunching in against his shoulders, dropping his head, bending his knees. No use. His appearance, no matter how small he made himself, was jarring. The dark hair, perpetually greasy, standing up in strange shapes around scars thick and ropey on his scalp made it worse.
The men seated in the row of chairs, lively and chatting a moment ago sat silent, staring.
A very thin man in the last chair quietly folded the newspaper he was reading and stood up. His arms almost looked too long for his body, his nose long and sharp. He looked accustomed to stares and whispers himself. He cleared his throat.
"You'll be wanting a hair cut, I take it? Best to sit on the bench out back I think, more room, y'know?"
Frank nodded, and walked through the small shop, ducking under the ceiling fans. One of the men by the window slapped his thigh with the magazine he was holding, a rail thin woman with impossible breasts barely netted in cotton on the cover.
He stood up and tossed the magazine aside.
"Smells like death in here." He grumbled and stomped toward the door, making the bell above it dance discordantly as he stormed out. The thin man shook his head but made no comment.
He cut and shaved Frank's hair that day, with a kind and gentle hand. He hadn't spoken much, what was there to say? But the kindness spoke volumes. He did, however, explain the benefits of a straight razor over the cheap plastic disposables at the store. "It'd do you best, given the scarring. Easier to maneuver. I can sell you what you need, best to be practicing on a peach first though, don't want to skin your own hide."
And that was that. Frank appreciated the humanity, but showing him how to do it himself ensured he wouldn't be back. Commerce over benevolence, it seemed.
Frank shook his head at the memory and planted his big hands on the table, trying to stretch.
His legs ached, and he found perverse pleasure in the ache. He was alive, that ache said. His aching legs still held him, when they should have failed ages ago. They had no reason to work at all. The various pains in his body, evidence of glorious life. No matter his feelings toward his Father. (Creator?) He was grateful to be alive.
The thinking though. He could sometimes do with less of that. He felt guilty for feeling this way but his mind simply would not let him rest.
He only wanted to help. He remembered how it felt to be so lost in the beginning, so confused. So, so angry. The anger had been his downfall. Causing him to hurt those he loved. Eventually he took himself away, far from mankind, with nothing but books for company and he spent years learning that anger and how to subdue and overcome.
He had watched time pass in the world around him, trees grow and die, animals, once plentiful grow rare and sometimes extinct. Watching man spread himself thin over the world, and deep into the wilds. Finding him. Marveling at him. Calling him Bigfoot and Yeti. Groups of them hunting him, misunderstanding the furs he wore for protection. Then, inevitably, he was found. When they realized he could speak, intelligently, that he could think and understand, they were both in awe and horrified. He was herded back to civility with promises of education and welcoming companionship.
He was admired and indulged for a time. Interviewed by pretty women with big eyes and eager mouths, speaking platitudes and complimenting his beautiful mind and strong body. "You could pick me up with one finger!" One woman exclaimed, stroking his arm and gazing hungrily at him. Like she would devour him and leave no scraps for the vultures. He knew what she wanted, and had no desire to give it. His mind had a lust for learning and nothing else. His body agreed.
He had met young Maria in that time. She wasn't like the rest. They talked. She listened. She provided information on how things were. Showed him the internet and how to use it. He loved her. She was compassionate and generous and asked nothing more than he wished to give.
She visited often, always leaving at dusk in her little car, waving as she drove off down the road, her tail lights fading slowly.
He would watch until they were gone, and turn inside, to the cursed computer and the internet. Typing in philosophical essays, and advice for humans to be kinder.
He amassed a following of the broken, and the newly healed. He became a steadfast friend and confidant to many who were experiencing change and upheaval.
He saved lives. He knew that. They told him.
But his mind, still would not quiet. The thoughts racing, seeing impending war and apocalypse at every turn and driving it along, the comments, hateful, sneaky, insidious.
"Just die already."
"Ha ha, He can't, remember?"
No. He couldn't. He'd live past their time, and he'd watch their children grow into the same. Just as he had always done.
"He is happy whom circumstances suit his temper; but he Is more excellent who suits his temper to any circumstance."
David Hume
-ADL
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