#fic: incomprehensible but we’re trying
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And It’s a Goddamn Tragedy
JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader; John B. Routledge x Sister!Reader
Warning(s): guns, gunshot wound, blood, hospital. Angst.
Notes: Could be in the same universe as my Nightmares imagine but can be read on its own as it makes no references to that fic. Also I have never been shot, but I did do a little research on the feeling, however most of the reaction is purely fictional.
Summary: JJ and John B. know their lives are a tragedy, but goddamnit, why do you have to pay the price?
The gun let out a loud bang as it fired, everything falling into slow motion. Engulfing your senses with nothing but a high pitched ringing and the slow movement of the gun in Rafe’s hand.
You saw a sharp look of regret pass over Rafe’s features before being swallowed by seriousness again. And then you could feel something wet start to blossom on your t-shirt.
Your face paled as you turned to the pogues, feeling the heat rushing from your face, mouth open but no sound coming out.
You could see the horror in their eyes, see John B. and JJ’s mouths moving, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was like there was cotton in your ears, and the ringing persisted, louder with every second.
You felt yourself start to become lightheaded, the world starting to become blurry.
Feeling sick, you dropped to your knees, everything still slow and disorienting until your body hit JJ’s.
“Hey, hey, Y/N, come on, stay awake," he said,
It was an overload on your head, everything rushing back to full speed quickly, and instead of pain, there was a burning, aggravating sensation in your stomach area, growing outward from where the bullet struck you. Intense and hot.
John B. was next to you in a second, holding your head with one hand and pressing his other against your wound. “Listen to JJ, Y/N, stay awake.”
You let out a loud cry, the burn overwhelming and tears swelling in your eyes.
Pope, Kiara, and Sarah stood above you, shouting incomprehensible things you couldn’t focus on.
“Hospital, John B, we’ve got to get her to a hospital!”
Hospital? Would you make it to a hospital?
Your brother peeled off his button up, wrapping it around your middle to try to stop the bleeding.
“Call 911!”
God, you couldn’t afford an ambulance. Just put you in the Twinkie and let you go. John B. would get over the blood stains. Like that thing had never been bled on before.
“Fuck it! JJ carry her to the van, I’ll drive.”
You felt your body move, being lifted into JJ’s arms. You looked up at his face, it was the only thing in focus. He looked worried, scared even.
“Hold on, Y/N, we’re gonna get you there. You’ll be okay," he said.
You smiled lightly. If you didn’t feel like passing out, you might’ve kissed him. That always calmed him down.
Pope threw open the door of the van, and JJ hopped in, sitting down and cradling you carefully in his arms.
Sarah was next to you then, pulling off her tank top and pressing it hard against your stomach.
You let out a cry and JJ looked like he was going to murder her.
“What are you doing!”
“Trying to put pressure on it! John B.’s shirt isn’t going to hold it enough.”
You groaned, not feeling up to arguing with anyone, just dropping your head into JJ’s shoulder and letting Sarah press against your wound.
Pope and Kiara jumped in last, barely getting the door shut before John B. was speeding down the road toward the hospital.
JJ kept whispering reassurances. You weren’t sure if they were for you or him. Maybe both.
You could hear the loud honking of horns as John B. tore through town.
Your eyes fluttered closed.
“No, no, no, Y/N, you have to stay awake. Open your eyes,” JJ urged.
You let out a soft whine. All you wanted was to sleep and let the pain go away.
“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “We’re almost there, okay? Almost there.”
Before long, the vans door was being thrown open again and you were jolted around as JJ ran into the hospital, John B. close on his heels.
“Help! Help, she’s been shot!”
Your body was laid down on a gurney and the staff started rolling you away.
Your hand slipped out of JJ’s as a nurse stopped him from coming along. The pain and sorrow in his eyes were the last of him you saw.
“Y/N?” One of the nurses above you said. “Can you hear me?”
“Y-yes…” you said before your eyes closed, relieving you from enduring the pain any longer.
JJ watched with tears rolling down his cheeks as you were carted away from him.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up. We’ll let you know what’s happening as it happens, okay?”
JJ nodded once, but didn’t take his eyes off of you until you passed through a set of doors and he couldn’t see you anymore.
He let himself look down at his body. His hands and shirt were covered in your blood and he felt sick to his stomach.
Pope gripped his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze and ushering him to a bathroom.
John B. and JJ entered the hospital restroom, walking to separate sinks and washing the blood off their hands.
JJ couldn’t quite fathom what happened yet. It started to settle in as he watched the water turn crimson.
He looked over at John B. who was doing the same as him, his stare harsh and unmoving as he washed his hands.
There was a swipe of blood on his cheek.
Suddenly, his best friend choked out a sob. He gripped the side of the sink and cried.
“I can’t lose her too.” John B. said through tears. “I can’t lose her too.”
JJ moved over to him, wrapping him in a hug that was quickly reciprocated.
“She’s gonna be okay, man,” he whispered into John B.’s shoulder. “She’s gotta be. She wouldn’t let punk ass Rafe be the one to do her in.”
John B. let out a watery laugh, squeezing him tighter.
Neither boy moved to break away from the hug, the both of them needing the comfort for a little longer.
“Why’s she always the one that gets hurt because we’re stupid?” John B. asked, quietly. “Why’s she gotta pay the price?”
“I don’t know...” JJ replied, just as quiet.
It was true that you always seemed to be the one getting hurt.
When JJ stole money from Barry, you were the one who got the shotgun pointed at your head. When John B. was spiraling from the loss of their dad, you were the one who picked up the pieces. When Topper almost drowned John B., you were the one who tackled Topper before JJ got the gun out.
You were the one left alone after John B. and Sarah got lost in the storm.
And now, you were the one that got shot with the bullet meant for John B.
Well, that’s what he assumed anyway. Why would Rafe want to shoot anyone but him?
“Hey, she’s out of surgery,” Pope said, opening the bathroom door where JJ and John B. were smoking a joint by the window.
“Fucking finally,” JJ said, putting the blunt out on the windowsill.
The doctor was talking with Kiara and Sarah when the boys approached.
“She’s stable. And lucky,” the doctor said. “We’ve got her on an IV and will prescribe her some pain medication once she’s discharged, but we’d like to keep her overnight.”
“I’ll stay with her,” John B. and JJ said at the same time.
The doctor chuckled. “I think there’s room for both of you, though you should think about shifts so you kids can leave to clean up and get some sleep.”
Both boys knew they wouldn’t be leaving her side all night.
“Someone will let you know when she’s awake.”
With that, the doctor left the group alone.
“You guys really should go shower and change,” Sarah said.
“Nah, no way I’m leaving,” JJ said. “What if she wakes up and I’m not here?”
“She probably won’t be up for a bit,” Pope said. “Most people wake up thirty minutes after the anesthesia.”
“Regardless, I’m not leaving.” John B. said. “This is my fault and I’m not leaving her again.”
“I never left her,” JJ said, crossing his arms.
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” John B. replied, face contorting angrily.
"Hey!" Kiara said, getting in between the two. "Not the time nor the place. You can both stay if you're going to asses about it."
They let it go, backing off and biting their tongues.
"Keys." Kiara said, holding out her hand.
John B. reluctantly dropped them into her palm.
"We'll be back. Text us if she wakes up before then and don't fight."
Dropping into chairs on opposite sides of the waiting room, JJ and John B. watched as the others left and waited for any news.
John B. was doing anything he could to distract himself and was failing miserably.
Nothing on his phone could hold his thoughts and none of the magazines on the table were even worth looking at.
So, he looked at JJ.
JJ's knee was bouncing, nervous. He didn't even look at his phone to pass the time, just stared at a spot on the floor.
John B. thought back to when Sarah got shot and he thought he was going to lose her. That was pain like he'd never felt and he could see by JJ's seemingly emotionless expression that he was feeling that same feeling.
John B. loved his sister. Y/N was the only family he had left, and he'd be lost without her. But the pain of potentially losing someone you love so deeply and so romantically was different.
It was hard for him to wrap his head around at first. That his best friend and his sister were together.
But they were good for each other. They understood each other on a level he never could.
Sometimes, he thinks that makes him a bad friend, a bad brother. But when JJ looks at Y/N like she hangs the moon, he knows he’s just being silly. Because Y/N looks at JJ like she’s never looked at anyone.
Because they’re in love.
"Y/N Routledge?"
John B. and JJ jumped up immediately. "Yes?"
The nurse gestured for them to follow her, and they didn't hesitate.
JJ's heart pounded as they followed. He was almost impatient in his movements; like his feet weren't going fast enough.
He just wanted to see her. To know she was okay.
The nurse pushed open the door, entering the room first. "Y/N? You've got some visitors here."
And then there you are.
You look exhausted, eyes drooping, skin pale. There's an IV in your wrist, and a hospital gown had replaced your bloody clothes.
"Hey, guys," you said, voice scratchy.
"Oh, honey, let me get you some water," the nurse said, putting down her clipboard and leaving the room.
John B. got out his phone to text the other pogues while JJ went to your side immediately.
He sat on the bed next to you, taking your hand.
"Hey, baby," you said, softly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
JJ relished in the contact, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Tired," you replied. "But I'm okay."
John B. pocketed his phone and went to your other side. "Hey, butterfly."
You smiled at him. "Hey, birdie."
And suddenly, the tears are back. "I'm so- so sorry."
"Hey, it's not your fault," you said.
John B. didn't reply, just hugged you tightly.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," you whispered, hugging your brother with one hand, squeezing JJ's with the other.
The nurse came back in then and the boys seperate from you so she could give you the water.
"Just hit your call button if you need anything," she said with a smile.
"Thank you," you replied, nodding.
The door closed behind her and the tone in the room shifted slightly.
"I'm gonna make that asshole pay for this," JJ said, the sadness now replaced with anger.
"No, you're not," you say firmly. "If either of you land in jail again, don't think we're bailing you out."
JJ made a noise of protest, but you just glared at him and he shut up.
"We're moving past this, okay? It happened, it's over, I'm alive. We're not letting this lead to more trouble, alright?"
The boys just mumbled agreements, not entirely satisfied by your requirements, but understanding of them all the same.
You'd been through too much for them to break your heart again.
The other pogues came in not long after that, smuggling in your favorite chocolate bar and a change of clothes for both JJ and John B., who took turns showering in the hospital bathroom.
Kiara took the liberty of brushing your hair out and braiding it as much as its length would allow.
Sarah was the one who spoke with the doctor, getting insurance and payment figured out as well as what pain meds they were prescribing you.
Pope took to being a buffer between your boys, making sure they didn't spring into another argument or try anything stupid while you rested.
As if JJ would have moved from your bedside by anything except force.
John B., now knowing you were safe and alive, was more relaxed, speaking in low voices with Sarah about your condition.
The nurse was kind enough to allow them all to stay the rest of the day, but once visiting hours ended and the sun went down she had to ask them all to leave.
"Only relatives are allowed to stay overnight."
JJ deflated at this, squeezing your hand tightly.
"Can he stay?" You asked. "He's my husband."
A bold lie on your part, considering you were in a hospital.
"Fiance, she means," John B. chimed in.
The Routledge siblings in tandem as always.
The nurse seems skeptical but considering you'd just come out of surgery as a result of being shot, she cut you some slack.
"Sure. But just you two."
They thanked her repeatedly but she just waved a hand. "I'll be back in a moment to set you up for overnight."
You said a quick goodbye to the other pogues, getting a hug from each and a kiss on the cheek from Sarah.
"We'll be back in the morning with breakfast."
"Ooh, hashbrown patty?" you asked.
"I think we can swing that," Kiara replied with a smile. "See you tomorrow."
The nurse came back shortly after to change your IV and check your blood pressure, temperature, and pulse. She also brought you a warm blanket and helped you into a pair of pajamas after changing your bandages.
After that she left you a cup of water and the name of the nurse that would be taking over her shift.
And that was that.
JJ wasted no time climbing into bed with you after she was gone, allowing you to curl into him, careful not to brush your bandages.
John B. settled himself into a couple of chairs for the night and closed his eyes.
"You sure you're all right?" he heard JJ whisper.
"I'm good, J, I promise," you replied.
"JB and I kind of had a cry session about you, ya know."
"Really?"
"Yeah, cause we love you and shit."
You laughed quietly. "Well, I'm glad you weren't tearing each other apart again."
"We almost did, but Kie stopped us before we could get started."
"Good. I don't think either of you would've been allowed in here if you'd've brawled in the waiting room."
John B. smiled softly.
"You're probably right," JJ said.
John B. peaked an eye open. You and JJ were facing each other, lying down. You were playing with JJ's fingers, eyes fluttering as sleep threatened to overtake you once again.
"Sleep, pretty girl, it's okay," JJ said, adusting himself so that you could lean against his shoulder.
"Okay..."
John B. closed his eye again, allowing himself to find his own sleep.
Safety may not be their strong suit, but for what they lacked they made up for in love.
And nobody loved you more than JJ and John B.
#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x routledge!reader
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The Assistant
summary: you have been promoted within the police headquarters, and your new position is the assistant of none other than Leon S. Kennedy. the ever alluring man has you weak in the knees.
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
word count: 9.9k
warnings: smut, boss x employee, very brief mention of smoking, very vague drug mention.
a/n: yay i'm posting it :3 using this photo cause i couldn't stop thinking of noir leon while writing this (brainrot) i didn't originally intend for this to be so long but here we are... this was different than what i'm used to writing but it was so much fun! already in the process of a second fic! enjoy yall
“So… I’m not fired?”
Standing in front of your boss’ desk, you were genuinely surprised by the words out of her mouth. For some reason, for the last few weeks, you had a hunch that you were about to get sacked. The office had been slowly getting emptied out, of boxes full of documents, of equipment, hell, even of people, and you were positive you were next.
She had just called out into her office, a mere twenty steps away from your desk where you worked, or used to work, now, in the dingy yellow room with foggy windows and no working AC. You took a deep breath, thinking this was it, getting ready to add this to the list of ‘Previous Employment’ on your resume, when all she had simply told you was that you were going upstairs.
She laughed curtly. “No, you aren’t. They need you upstairs. You’ll be better off up there.”
You slowly nodded your head, trying to keep most of the confusion off of your face. “So, sorry to ask, but, what about down here?”
You had been here for just shy of a year at this point, and they placed you in one of the ground floor offices of the five story buildings sorting out random court documents, for whatever reason, they were always needed for something incomprehensible. You didn’t question it, you just did it, because you got paid to. Yes, the fluorescents gave you occasional migraines and stepping into the fresh air at the end of the day made you feel reborn, but it was just busy work, and there were much worse jobs to do.
“They’re cleaning us out. We’re all still here, just… relocated.” You nodded, at least relieved to know that your old deskmates weren’t ruthlessly fired. She handed a manila folder over to you, and when you flipped it open, there was only one piece of paper inside. You’ve learned to not be surprised by confusing things such as this. “Mr. Anderson of the top floor has recently been relieved of his position.” Ouch, you thought. Poor soul. “His position had been freed and with no new applicants, they were looking inward. I appreciate your work here and your employment history shows some experience in the assistance department, so I suggested you as a candidate. They want you up there.”
Your stomach sank, and your best friend’s voice rang out through your head. “You can’t lie about past employment, idiot! They can check!” Well, you held back a sigh, they definitely didn’t check.
“Wow, I… Thank you. But, sorry. That I’m leaving.”
She merely shook her head. “Still here. This office will be gone soon enough. Between us, I’ve been praying for this day.” With that, she dismissed you, and after swiping the few personal items off your desk and into your bag, you headed home.
This single paper had stumped you all night. You sat at your table after eating (barely, you were too nervous about starting a basically new job the next day), and decided to review the content of it before retiring for the night. It was quite simple: it listed the job description, ‘Executive Assistant’, it listed the location, ‘5F, 505’, and your new boss’ name, ‘Leon S. Kennedy, Exec. Agent’.
You had honestly not heard this name before. You should know everyone who works there, considering the nature of the police headquarters, but you were often forgotten down in the basement, no one too important worked down there, besides your boss, or old boss now, who had connections to all other departments. Everyone got there before you and left after you. Could be at the same time, but you often tuned it out, needing the sweet release of your home. You wondered why she volunteered you up for this. Maybe she was sympathetic about the setting you had to work in for someone your age.
You went to bed after deciding there was no hidden detail in the few lines of script on the sheet. You would just have to wait and see.
Figuring the gray dress pants and white, long sleeve mock neck that you threw on this morning were good enough, you left the house early enough to prepare by buying a coffee. Being stuffed into the basement had its perks, eventually everyone had caught on to the idea that they just needed you guys down there to do what they didn’t want upstairs, and you and your coworkers had found the thin cracks in which you could push the dress code a little. No, leggings weren’t permitted, but they were on the days your slacks were dirty and when you put a dress shirt and sweater on over it. You were sure your boss noticed, but said nothing anyway. Clearly, it didn't put a dent in what she thought of you.
You had to at least try today though, as you had no idea what it would be like to work on the top floor. You had no idea what kind of a person Agent Kennedy was, and you weren’t going to chance anything on the first day. You had played it safe when you first started here and it paid off, so fingers crossed it could pay off again.
After a few deep breaths, you popped the door open and headed into the building. Usually, you could park in the back and take the lower level entrance, which was essentially the one and only way into the basement that wasn’t from the service elevator, but you went in through the front today. You ignored the tightening of your stomach and climbed the stairs.
“Can I help you?” A man stood from the front desk at your arrival. You started reaching for the ID card you carried on a lanyard, stuffed into your pocket.
“Yes, I work here.” He reached out for your ID, not believing your truth.
He raised an eyebrow. “The basement entrance is in the back of the building.” He handed it back and went to sit down.
“Yes, I know, I was moved. I’m going upstairs.” You handed him the manila folder before he could ignore you further. He raised an eyebrow again after looking at the small paper.
“Alright, Anderson’s replacement. Fifth floor, to the right.” He motioned to his left to the elevator, and only then did you let him sit back down.
You took the walk to the elevator as a chance to survey the room. You hadn’t been over here very often. You made a few trips up here a few months ago, but you didn’t look around much, only headed to the confidential files room to move information. The floor was a sleek black tile, shiny as ever, and the room was lit well due to the large windows at the front of the building. It didn't look like a headquarters building. You told yourself it wasn’t to calm your nerves.
Swallowing the last of the anxiety, you stepped out onto the fifth floor. It was simply a hallway, all black, but the windows at the end made the space seem larger, and not so dark. To the right, you remember the man telling you. Your footsteps were reverberating off of the walls, matched with the pounding of your blood flow in your ears.
The corridor opened up to a wider room, inhabited by a handful of other people. One of them spotted your arrival, and walked over.
“Good morning, I’m–”
“Yes, right over here. Glad to see you.” You were taken aback for a moment, They already know me? You thought, as you followed the young man to a large desk on the left side of the wall, facing inward to the foyer. You were sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows, across the room was the same setup with a few smaller desks, people scuttling back and forth on their own side. You turned back to thank the man, when your heart fluttered in relief.
“Thank you,-- Oh, my gosh, Brett, you work up here now?” Brett was an old deskmate that had left the small office three months ago. You didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but the last day that you saw him you remember eating lunch on his desk with another coworker who sat in front of you two. You were saddened by his loss, but now absolutely relieved to have a familiar face.
“I know, right? They said you were coming. I’m glad you got out next. It’s better up here.” He let you put your stuff down and get settled, before telling you what your next moves should be. “He’s in a meeting right now, but he wanted to meet you once you got here. Don’t be nervous, but brace yourself. He’s serious. Mostly. I’ve seen him smile once, but he’s nice to the rest of us. Hopefully more to you.”
After a few more minutes of small talk, he left you on your own, and you passed the time getting used to the surroundings while waiting for your new boss to be out of his meeting. Early for a meeting, you thought, but then again, it didn’t take a whole team for one person to make a conference call.
There was a momentary beep sound that came from Brett’s desk, and he picked up the phone. He said one thing into it before hanging up. He turned to you. “He’s ready.”
The nerves came back, but at the comforting thought that there was at least one person you knew out here, you tried your best to look forward to just sitting back down at your desk.
You were about to knock, but figured otherwise since he had directly asked for your presence. You walked up to the large double doors, and pulled them open.
His back was to you when you closed the door behind you. Walking closer, you stopped a few paces away, observing him for a brief second. He had a white dress shirt on and a gray vest. He looked quite large from where you stood, and you were sure that he was at least 6 feet tall, probably taller. He was messing with some papers on his desk, and you took a quick breath before speaking.
“Good morning, sir.” You stood tall, shoulders back, hands clasped behind yourself. Don’t cross your arms in front of you, you recall trying to retrain your habits, you look insecure. He turned around.
You swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, there were no tips on that blog on what to do when your boss is straight out of People Magazine’s sexiest men alive. His ash blonde hair was pushed back off of his forehead, showcasing his sturdy bone structure, a deep, furrowed brow that lacked any wrinkles, and high cheekbones with a sharp jawline. Straight nose, strong chin, and shoulders the size of, well, you. Maintaining eye contact was a challenge.
You saw him give you a quick once over, all the way down and back up your body again, so brief like it never happened at all. You were itching to pull your arms back in front of yourself.
“Good morning.” He took one step closer to you, held out his hand, and you gingerly took it. His hand was rough, yet the handshake was gentle. “Agent Leon Kennedy.” He lowered his hand and put it in his pocket. His other hand was holding a file. “I hope once you are comfortable here we will work well together.”
You gave a tight smile, forcing your face to make it look natural. You were sure it didn’t. “I look forward to working with you.” Your voice was a lot breathier than intended.
The corner of his mouth twitched in a hidden smirk. Leon could definitely tell you were nervous. It was a big part of his job, after all. He handed the file over to you. “Just run these for a while. Find me when you finish them.” You took the folder. He stood there momentarily, watching you. “You can relax a little. I’m not going to kill you.” He stalked back over to his desk and sat down, attention still on you.
You mumbled while flipping through the file. Attempting to lighten the mood, “I would, but smoking is not allowed in the building.”
“That will kill you, you know.” His voice was light. He took the joke well.
You closed it and looked back up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Would you prefer if I drank myself stupid, then?” He said nothing, and just smiled at you. Yours grew wider. “I’ll see you soon with this, sir.” You turned and left.
The day passed with ease. It was no difficult task to focus, now that the nerves were buried and you knew what it was that you had to be doing. Lunch with the others came and went, and it took you a fair chunk of your day to run the files he handed over. It was similar to what they had you doing in the basement, but the addition of sunlight unobstructed by dirty windows made it seem like a fun job.
You had attempted humor with Leon within the first few minutes of meeting him. You probably shouldn’t have, but no one in your life could force you to give up making jokes in serious situations. That’s just how you operated. Leon didn’t seem to care. He actually smiled. Brett had told you he rarely does that, and you made him after only a minute. It honestly had your heart racing all day.
With only an hour left in the day, you packed up the papers Leon had given you along with some new printed ones. You knocked on the door this time, and opened it when he beckoned you in.
“Sorry it took me so long. Little more labor intensive than I’m used to.” He took the file you were handing over, and put it on his desk without looking inside. He was sitting turned toward the computer on his desk, and though he told you to come in, you hoped you weren’t interrupting anything.
“Thank you. No more of that librarian sorting you were all doing down there.” So, he knows. It was no secret you were sure, but you were still surprised that he knew you worked in the building at all. Leon turned his attention back to his desk for a moment, and you stood there, head tilted slightly to view what he was looking at. He turned back to you, and your head snapped up to make eye contact. “I have nothing else for you right now. Boring day for you to start. You can go home. Tomorrow, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have you review some portfolios and slides I have, so you can become familiar with the content. I have some meetings coming up later in the week, or next, there's a good chance you’ll be coming with me.” he swiveled himself around and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on top of a file cabinet, held together with a paperclip. “Just put this on your desk for now, for the morning.” It was something along the lines of criminal justice and related business strategies. This would be a doozy.
“Of course, sir. As you wish.” You took a step back to leave. “Thanks for the early day.” You sent a halfhearted smile his way. He didn’t reflect it, but his eyes were soft.
After a few seconds of holding your stare, he said, “Already better than Anderson. I like you.”
Your stomach tightened, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally. “I hope I can continue to please, then.” You felt his stare hot on your back as you left, but you remained composed. Once, and only once, the doors were shut, you shakily exhaled, and quickly packed up to leave.
The week went by with a pace you were never used to with your job. You found yourself excited to come to work, excited to see Leon. If you had known you worked in the same building this whole time, you would have been begging your old boss to get moved.
It was a rather tame week, and you weren't sure if it was because there was no work, or this is just what the workload was always like here. It was now Friday, you sat at your desk going through a database page for the assignment you had to review before the meeting Leon had said you were attending. It definitely made you nervous, this was past your parameters and you hadn’t had any sort of experience with something this serious. At least, that’s what you thought it would be. You needed to be prepared for that so you didn’t look incompetent for this job that you only just got.
Resting your chin on your hand with the other slowly scrolling through the page with the mouse, you cocked your head and looked up when Leon suddenly appeared in front of you. You shot a smile at him.
“Were you in a meeting?” He stood so tall from this angle with you sitting down, and your neck almost hurt looking up at him.
“Yeah, light work though.” He held onto a file with his left hand. The right was in his pocket. He turned briefly to look behind him at the others who worked in the small lobby. “So, about that meeting next week,” you nodded, shifting your posture now. “It’s Monday morning. I just need you to be there to help with any outside communications like other appointments since it might be a while. I sent this to you–” He motioned to your computer, which was the PDF you had been reading from his email. “In case something happened to mine for whatever reason. God forbid...” He mumbled, partially rolling his eyes. You chuckled. “Good for you to know it though.”
“I figured. This is also light work.” You cocked a smile, and he repeated the action. “As long as I’m not being expected to execute the whole presentation, I think I can serve well to take calls for you.”
A quiet laugh rumbled out from him. “That’s all I need you for. It’s not here,” He leaned onto your desk with one arm, and you had to desperately peel your eyes away from the way his veins flexed in his forearm. The image was already burned into your brain. “It’s in the branch a couple cities over, so… If you would like to meet me somewhere over here,” You tried to swallow at the implication, but your throat was suddenly so dry. “You know, to make it easier.”
You drew in a breath. “Of course,” You put your hands into your lap so he wouldn't see you nervously wringing your fingers together. “How did you know about my minor driving anxiety?” You playfully quirked an eyebrow at him.
He smiled. “Intuition. Or my job training.” He stood up straight now. You found yourself wishing he wouldn't leave. “You can leave at three with the rest of them today. I’ll see you on Monday.” You only released the breath you were holding when he was safely behind the confines of his office doors.
The weekend allowed a little relaxing, but mostly anxiety the close it came to Monday. You were finding it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about Leon. This whole week felt like a dream. Your body felt hot anytime you were alone in his office, or anytime he merely stopped at your desk to drop something off. You felt so small next to him, and almost struggled to form coherent thoughts when you had to speak to him. Your eyes thoroughly raked his body up and down when he was turned, his broad expanse of back and shoulders nearly turned your brain to slush. He always smelled like crisp cologne, something expensive, it had to be.
You found yourself thinking too often about the way he looked at you. It was a stare that wasn't something you were used to receiving on a daily basis. There was something else… His gaze was dark and luring. Like he knew what you were thinking. Like when you two made eye contact, he knew he was the object of your fantasy.
Which, yes, it had only been a week, but you had to admit, you had never seen anyone this attractive before. And here you were, working for him. It only made your skin heat up more at the knowledge that it was forbidden. It heightened the experience every time you had to see him. That was your boss, and he sure did have that power over you. The conversations you had with him bordered on strictly work, but you were dying to see another side of him. The smirk he gave you when you made him laugh had your stomach twisting in a way that lasted long after the interaction was over. Every time you said something that gave him that reaction, you needed to make it happen again. It felt like a new addiction that developed way too fast. You wondered if he could tell. You at least tried to be subtle about it.
A shiver raked through your body as you stood outside of your car early that Monday morning. It wasn’t that cold, but you didn't think the weather was the reason you were shivering. You had arrived at headquarters to meet with Leon, as he offered to take you over to another city's department for his meeting. The aforementioned shiver happened immediately after turning and seeing Leon in the same outfit as you saw when you first met him.
His button down shirt strained on his biceps when he moved, and the gray vest sat perfectly on his waist, making you realize exactly how his frame would look underneath his clothes. You had to push this aside as he motioned you to come over to his car.
It was a sleek black sedan, which made sense for who he was. You felt shielded from the world as you closed the door, the tint locking you in next to your boss, who was insanely close to you, and you feared could hear your frantic heartbeat.
He placed a few files on your lap and you let them sit there for the time being. “I was going to get you coffee, but I didn't know how you would take it.”
You held back a smile at the thought of Leon thinking of you this morning. “It’s okay, but thanks. I already had some.” You saw Leon nod out of your peripheral, and you could only look forward, knowing you might stare if you turned your head.
“But you take…” Leon prompted. He’s curious anyway? Is he expecting to do it in the future? You could have exploded.
After rattling off the basics of what you drink, he replied, “Sounds very sweet.” You laughed and nodded. “I don't know about all that. Maybe I’ll try it out.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to be into sweet things.” You risked a look over, and when you did, he mirrored the action with a grin on his face.
“You’d be surprised.”
Thankfully, you were very relieved at the end of the day when the meeting went by with minimal interaction on your part. You were introduced to some of the other important players in the legal game that knew Leon, and sat off to the side with one of the files he handed you. Despite most of the information going over your head, you still paid attention, at least to make Leon look good and show that you were a competent assistant.
The sun was close to setting by the time you filed back out into the lot, trailing right behind Leon. Slipping into his passenger’s seat, he followed a second after, and you felt your body physically relax knowing the stressor of the week was now defeated.
“Not so bad, right?” He spoke without looking over, shifting gear and taking off.
“Are they always this long? Maybe I should plan ahead and bring multiple drinks with me.”
He chuckled. “Only sometimes. This one was important, that’s why. They usually aren’t outside the city either so… consider this an introduction to the team.”
You rolled your eyes and looked over. “Do you keep forgetting that I already worked here before this?” You heard the smile through your own voice, and saw one creep on his face as he kept his eyes on the road. Your heart felt light.
“No, absolutely not. The pace you work at is evident enough of that. It’s just a different type of job, I’m sure. I don’t really know what goes on down there.”
With the smile still on your face, you let your eyes linger on him for a moment more. His hair, which was pushed on top of his head, was starting to fall, and a strand fell onto his forehead. The past week, he had worn it down a couple of times, and you honestly didn't know which one you preferred.
You rolled your head over to the side, watching the passing cars go by. The radio was on, but at the lowest volume, merely for ambiance. Your hand brushed over the files on your lap, that you had taken back from Leon upon leaving so he could shake hands with whoever he needed to, and pried open one of them.
Before your eyes could even properly latch onto any words, Leon’s hand reached over and gently pushed the top of the file closed, and you looked over at him.
“That’s confidential, you know.” He looked over at you for a brief second, but you could see he wasn’t mad.
“Sorry. I was just sitting through that whole thing, though, in case you forgot.” You looked back down at your lap and noticed Leon’s hand was still on the file, the weight of it heavy on your thighs.
“No, I didn’t forget. I don’t know how much of it was digestible to you.” He barely lifted his hand off of the file folder, pulling it sideways, landing it on your thigh for a second. His hand was big enough to wrap around the side, and a split second later, he dragged it off, and your skin burned with the track it traced. Breathing became hard suddenly, and you had to turn your head to the window and focus on the outside world.
You arrived back at headquarters thirty minutes later, and the fresh air felt incredible on your flushed skin. It wasn’t even that warm in the car, but you couldn't stop thinking about the way Leon’s hand felt on your thigh. It was like he never lifted his hand at all, you could still feel the contact lingering, the way his fingers grazed your leg, the immediate warmth you felt, not only on your thigh, but in your stomach. You wished you could have taken your jacket off in the car.
Before you could get any words out, Leon said, “Come up to the office for a second. I left something up there.”
You said nothing, simply followed him up. The parking lot was nearly deserted, save for the few officers doing a detail whom you greeted when the both of you walked in. You fiddled with the edges of the files you were still holding, not trying to look in any of them in case Leon were to reprimand you for it again. You were almost tempted to, just to see his reaction. That thought made your knees weak.
You followed him out of the elevator into the office. As expected, the lobby was empty. Leon made his way over to his desk, pulling open a file cabinet, and started sifting around. You stood there, then walked over and dropped what you were holding onto his desk. You looked around the office, it was as wide as the lobby was, and large windows spanned the walls. It was simplistic. His desk was in the middle, file cabinets behind him, multiple monitors, a few chairs in front of his desk, some round black ottomans in front of a black leather couch to the left. There were more files open on top of one of the ottomans.
You stalked over to it, leaned down and picked one up. It looked like what he had given you the other day–
“You must be a glutton for punishment.” You jumped slightly when Leon spoke from directly behind you and grabbed the file from your hands. You spun around. “You shouldn’t be rifling through random documents, you know.”
You sighed, not wanting to make eye contact, but knowing not doing it would look bad. You kept your arms to your side despite wanting to cross them. His eyes were dark. You couldn't tell what type of reaction this was.
“I’m sorry. I’ll make a severe mental note of that.” He said nothing in return, simply looking down at you. The peaks of his bone structure highlighted by the distant street lamps and the glow of the moon outside the windows. It made the shadows look all that much darker. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine.
He hummed, a low, throaty sound. “My new assistant, just so nosy.” His voice was low, and you gulped, trying to blink through your emotions normally, but you knew it looked anything but.
“Dare I say it’s in my job description.” You mirrored his low tone, mentally relieved it wasn’t as weary as you expected it to sound. You tilted your head up to his, as a small gesture of challenge.
He nodded his head, as if to consider your words. “Dare you do.” He backed up, placed the file on his desk, then came right back to his spot in front of you. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still. It was most likely the better option anyway, who knows if your limbs could even move properly right now. You felt bare in this position, your cotton top feeling too warm where it overlapped with your jacket, and though your legs were on display under your skirt, they, too, were burning up. Your heart was hammering, but Leon kept talking. “What do you think about this job so far, hm? Does it live up to expectations?”
You had to take a steady breath before answering. “I think this surpasses any expectation I could have ever set.”
“Good answer.” You maintained eye contact with the man in front of you, surprising yourself with how well you were holding it. He seemed unfazed at all. He was probably reading you like a book right now. “You know, I love having new recruits start here. They’re so unaware of their surroundings. It almost makes a fun game for myself. They think they are so secretive, but after a while I can tell whatever it is they don't want anyone else to know.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. “I know Breanna across the lobby from you doesn’t like her desk mate despite buying her coffee three times a week.” Checks out, I can tell, too. “I know Brett does things to stay awake during his shifts that he shouldn’t be doing within a 50 foot radius of a cop.” Ouch. That’s also true, but he only told me during a hard come down. “And, I know how nervous you are to be around me, and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever I’m in the room.”
You made no moves now. How did he know? Surely you weren’t that obvious with it. It had been one week, and yes Leon called you into his office quite a bit during those five days, but he had work to hand off to you every time. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose.
But now, standing under his hard gaze, nowhere to go, you weren’t so sure it was accidental.
Your jaw tightened. “How can you be so sure?” Now, you could hear the waviness in your voice. A smirk blossomed on his handsome face.
“I can see how you look at me. Usually these things take time to figure out, but you…” He took a step closer, and you took a half step back. It’s not like you didn’t want to be close to him, but now he was donning a persona that made you shrink into yourself. You knew you liked it by the heat spreading inside. “You, dear, are like looking through a window.”
“So… you tested it out earlier?” It felt like a pathetic question, but you needed an answer for why he put his hand on your thigh earlier. Compared to this current position, that seemed so tame.
He tilted his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure I was, but… I had to make sure I was gauging the situation correctly.” He looked you up and down, your hands had made their way to clasp behind your back, still fighting the habit to cross them across your chest. Your breathing felt erratic. “I would have left it there, but I couldn’t make too much of a scene. Not yet.”
You simply stared at each other. You could tell that he knew he had the upper hand, solely because he was correct. Everything he was saying was right. Damn that detective training, nothing was getting past him. The room was sweltering now, but maybe you were the only one that felt it.
One last burst of confidence had you muttering, “You do this to all your new assistants?”
In one swift action, he had a hand over your waist and pulled you close to him. Bodies touching, heat feeling like a fire between you, he lowered his face so it was centimeters away from yours. The glisten of his eyes were the only thing you could see, and if you weren’t running on pure adrenaline right now, you probably would have collapsed. You felt the vibrations from his chest when he spoke.
“Only the ones I intend to hang on to. And I can’t say I’ve had multiple of those.” You gulped, and when you didn't reply, he continued, “Did I gauge the situation correctly?”
“Yes,” You whispered, and his mouth was on yours.
His kiss was intense, and you felt now like your body might give out. Your hands found their way to make contact with him, one grasping the wrist that was holding your waist and the other to the side of Leon’s face, and you felt his other hand close in on your hips.
It was like nothing you had experienced before. The kiss was hot and messy, you let his tongue in easily, and you couldn't help the small sighs that escaped whenever he leaned in to deepen the exchange. You felt his nose press into your face, your foreheads pushed together and your bodies entirely too close you felt like one entity. The hand that was caressing his face snaked to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and your knees finally buckled when he gave a low growl in response to you tugging his locks.
The kiss broke for a second as you lost balance, but he was not thrown off course. Hands still grasping your body, he found the couch that you were only a step in front of, and he lowered you on it, still connecting your lips together fiercely. Both of your hands now in his hair as your back hit the cushions, and you felt the dips next to you where he was kneeling over you. One of his hands let go of you and supported himself next to your head, but you craved the contact again.
He took your chin in his thumb and index finger and tilted your head slightly to the right, and broke the kiss, but his lips stayed on your burning skin as they traced down your jaw bone, biting into the flesh, and his tongue marked a path down your neck, and it was insanely hard to breathe.
One of your hands found solace on his thick shoulder while he was still making work of the soft skin on your neck. The hand of his that wasn't on your chin still traced its way from your hip up to your chest, and he squeezed one of your breasts in sync with a bite to the neck. Your head pressed harder into the couch underneath you.
“Leon, please…” You gasped out, unsure if you even said it out loud, surprised you even had the energy to speak. You felt him lift his lips off of your skin a second later and his fingers moved your chin again to make you face him.
“What is it, hm? What do you need?” He dipped down to kiss you again, and you wished he would have stayed there so you wouldn't need to verbally answer him.
“I… I don’t…” I don’t know, I need you. You barely had the breath to speak anymore, and though you knew Leon knew exactly what you were trying to say, he feigned confusion, and looked at you from under his furrowed brow. It was so obnoxious, it ignited the flame inside you even more.
“Come on, baby, I can’t hear you.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and your vision went blurry with lust. You ground your jaw and swallowed your pride.
“I need you.” You gasped out finally, your lungs deflating. Your hand was fisting the material over his shoulder, and you noticed through your haze that he wasn’t wearing the vest anymore. When did he take it off? Before you came up to the office? While you had your back turned? It didn’t matter, it was now one less thing you needed to rip off of him.
“Is that so?” He went back to biting at your neck, and at this rate you didn’t care what state he was going to leave it in. You whined at his lack of response to your plea, feeling frustration and desire bounding up inside of you, needing an outlet to release it.
“Leon, fuck, please…” You weakly tried to push him back but he wouldn’t budge. He reconnected your lips again, and that you greatly accepted, pulling him closer now so he would continue kissing you with fervor. The hand that was on your chin finally left, and he replaced it on your wrist, and suddenly, he was hauling you up.
He pulled back from the kiss just as quickly as he was pulling you to sit upright, and he swiftly maneuvered you so that when he fell backwards to sit on the couch, you were pulled right on top of him, straddling his thick thighs. You couldn’t even imagine how you looked right now, it was out of your mind for now as you looked down at the man under you, his hands on your waist. His shirt was wrinkled and slowly being pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. His tie was being loosened and the top two buttons had come undone, exposing the smooth expanse of skin over his collarbones and chest. As you let your weight settle onto your legs, and his, you lowered directly onto his growing erection, and he squeezed his hands over your torso and scrunched his face. With a heavy breath, he pulled his head forward and stared at you.
“Did you think I was just going to give it to you?” His voice was gravelly, and it almost made you whimper. His hands dropped to your thighs, which were now incredibly exposed due to the position of your skirt hiking up, and Leon probably had a view of the black panties you had on. You didn’t care. Let him see. You needed him to take them off.
You shook your head. “You can’t be nice to me?” Your hands came up to his chest, it was firm and sturdy, and you were dying to see it bare. You fumbled with the buttons, and Leon had been at least gracious enough to loosen the tie and throw it over his head onto the floor.
Leon laughed. You felt it under your palms. “Darling,” You looked up to make eye contact with him at the mention of the pet name. “This is me being nice to you.”
You barely had time to register his words, and the way it made your stomach turn before he had a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you forward to another intense kiss. You could barely breathe, your limbs were all pins and needles and your skin was alight with a burning ember, fueled only by Leon, but you loved it.
In the midst of the kiss, wet and slick and tongue heavy, your hands were needlessly prying the buttons open at the top of Leon’s shirt. His hands were traveling under your clothes, palms gripping your thighs, and you found yourself grinding down into Leon’s lap subconsciously, but kept going when it resulted in him groaning into the kiss.
You pulled back suddenly at the victory of pulling the last few buttons open, and Leon immediately caught your stare, but you dropped it to look down at the open expanse of skin and muscle that he had been hiding. A strong chest gave way to flexing ab muscles as he writhed under you, probably trying to gain your attention or to show off, and sturdy hip muscles abducted into V lines that disappeared under the waistline of his pants. You couldn’t help it, you reached out to drag your hands along the smooth skin, every second of contact adding to the pooling happening between your legs, where you were also very conscious of the fact that Leon’s hands were dangerously close to.
“Do you want this to happen today, or do you want to keep staring?” Leon prodded at you jokingly, and when you looked up, a grin was plastered on his face, and his eyes were still dark. You felt the tightness arise again at just the sight of his expression paired with his upper body on display for you.
“You’re sounding more eager than me, now…” You breathily replied, overwhelmed with all of the emotions coursing you at once.
Leon breathed a brief laugh before raising an eyebrow with his response. “I can show you eager.”
At once, his hand reached up in between your legs and you felt one of his fingers dance across the hem of your panties, and your grip tightened where your hand landed on his bicep. He gave you no warning when you felt him pull it aside, drag his finger downwards and raked his knuckle through your wetness, earning a sharp gasp from you in return, and you nearly fell forward onto his chest as the feeling sent sparks soaring through you.
“Calling me eager…” The sound of his voice paired with the feeling of his fingers on you was far too much to handle. “Yet it feels like you must have been wet all night…” He dragged his finger back up to the top where he maneuvered his hand so the pad of his thumb pressed heavily on your clit, and you nearly screamed, but all sound was trapped in your throat as you lost function of your body.
He ripped his hand out of your underwear and it moved around to find the zipper in the back of your skirt. “Take that shirt off,” He ordered, and you obeyed as best you could through your stiff limbs.
You peeled it off from the bottom, feeling the fabric stick to your moist skin, and Leon’s eyes heavy on you as you finally got it over your head and on the floor. Your lingerie choice was nothing phenomenal, for the expected business meeting at least, but you could tell by his gaze that it really didn't make a difference in what he was thinking right now. Seconds after you dropped your hands back to your sides, he flipped you once again, back on the couch and him hovering over you, pulling the skirt that he had unzipped down your legs, and into the pile of your shirt and his tie somewhere behind you.
Your breathing was erratic as you watched him intently, his lust-filled eyes on your body and his hand running lengths up and down your torso, legs, back up to your chest, and neck, and landing on your bra strap that he pulled down, and wasted no time in attaching his mouth your hot skin. Your hand gripped his elbow as he bit the tender flesh of your breast, he sucked on it harshly once, twice, before lifting and wrapping his lips over your nipple, which had your back arching and a string of soft moans pouring out.
You felt an aching cramp in your core, the pleasure was insurmountable and you needed him to do something about it, but you knew he was buying time to rile you up as much as possible before doing so. You knew he was straining with his own pleasure and you were desperate to tear apart his belt and pants and take his girth into your hands, to feel it, to taste it, you wanted to choke on it, but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. If not in the span of a few minutes, maybe not tonight at all. You were submitting your control, and you had to let him do what he wanted.
He finally let go of your nipple, and the air felt cold with the layer of saliva he left behind, and even though you were basically naked save for undergarments, you still felt too covered. You reached up to pull at Leon’s shirt, fully unbuttoned and untucked, and he leaned back on his knees to pry it off of himself. You could see his skin glistening with sweat as he moved, and so badly you wanted to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his skin, all of his muscles, pull him close so you could feel his chest on your own.
Your eyes fell to his pants, and the tent that was present had your mouth watering, you needed him to pull it out, and now.
Of course, Leon being ever so sharp, didn’t miss this. “We’ll get there. Don’t worry.” Without looking up, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, but you didn’t care anymore, you couldn't move your eyes from where they landed, trying to imagine his cock in its glory, how long and thick, how he would use it and how it would feel. You felt like you were melting.
Unmoving from where he was propped up in front of you, his hands traveled down the expanse of your legs, dragging his fingers underneath your thighs where it was sensitive, making you jump with the contact. His hands came around to the top of your knees, where he pushed your legs apart and lowered himself in between them. Even just the sight of him doing so had you whimpering, and when he pressed his thumb into your clothed clit, you bucked up, but he was quick to hold you down.
Keeping his thumb centered on your clit, he continued to apply pressure, using his middle and index finger to stroke up and down on the outside of your panties, which you were sure were soaked by now. Throwing your head back into the couch, one hand gripping onto the wrist that was holding Leon up and the other was clawing into the cushion, you were dying for him to do something.
He was getting too used to teasing you now. He had you right where he wanted, half naked on the couch in his office after hours, so close to practically coming untouched at this point, and while you wanted to fight him on this, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The mixture of the pleasure and mental ecstasy you were feeling had you forfeiting any sense of control now, and you just watched him, as he watched you.
All at once, you felt the cold air hit your core as your underwear was peeled away from you, but the sensation didn't last long as a hot, wet tongue was pressed into your heat, and you nearly screamed at the sudden contact.
His mouth was all you could focus on in that moment, you could feel every movement his tongue made, and your body reacted viscerally to it. Your hand flew out and grabbed onto Leon’s hair, which incited him to only keep going, and to be ruthless. His hands were digging into your thighs where he was spreading them apart, fighting against you wanting to close them in reaction to pleasure he was sending shooting through your body.
One long, painfully slow lick from top to bottom ended at your clit where he latched on, tongue pressing in and teeth gently making an appearance, and your grip in his hair became even stronger when he pushed two fingers into you, your vision going blurry, and there was no filter left to stop any thoughts from pouring out over your lips.
“Oh my god… Leon…” You were whining now, moaning in between deep breaths and gasps, feeling his fingers pump in and out all while his tongue was relentless on you.
His mouth disappeared but his thumb took its place, and you felt him kissing, licking, sucking his way up your torso, chest, neck, until he was seated next to your ears, groaning into them as you dug your nails into his skin.
“Oh my god, what, huh? You like the way I make you feel?” All you could do was gasp out a ‘yes’ in response to his question, he wasn’t giving you any liberty to be coherent. “You probably thought about this all day…” A bite below your ear followed the sentence. “That pussy was so wet… you probably wanted this since the first day…”
And you did. How could you not have thought about this at the sight of your insanely attractive boss? Wouldn’t it be so hot to be banging your model-status boss, having to hide it from your coworkers, going in his office to sneak touches while no one outside those doors knew? Yes, of course you thought about it. It had your heart racing, and now you would stop at nothing to make those fantasies real.
“You feel so good, I can’t wait to be inside you.” With one last soft bite to the jaw, he pulled his fingers out of you, and involuntarily you whimpered, but he shut you up by pressing a kiss into your lips, which you greatly accepted. His kiss was harsh yet soft at the same time, you felt a passion behind it while also letting his tongue sweep over yours, tasting yourself on him, sighing into it, feeling like you could kiss him forever.
His hands left you, now feeling bare, you gripped his shoulders hard as you heard him undoing his own belt. As much as you wanted to do it yourself and be right in front when you pulled his hard cock out of his pants, you didn’t have it in you to attempt to move yourself, and with Leon on top of you, he was sure to stop any feeble move you made to do so.
HIs lips left yours once more and reattached to the side of your throat, biting down harder than before, but it only made you moan, arch harder into him, and sent a flurry of hot tingles into your pussy, aching for more action from him.
Leon pushed himself off of you, his warm mouth off of you and leaned back, staring at you panting, and of course, his dick in his hands was impossible to ignore. Just seeing it was almost bliss, and now you were desperate for him to use it as you lay there, being scrutinized under your boss’ gaze, and while you felt so tiny, just the sight of how hard he was made you feel so powerful.
He took a deep breath in, taking in the sight of you, before lowering himself again, lining up with your gaze so you looked him directly in the eye. You felt his forehead press into yours, his hand lingered around your underwear again, pushing it aside, and after just another moment of silence, another deep kiss, his bare chest met yours and you felt the tip of his dick push into you, past the entrance, into the warmth.
You sighed so loud, followed by a moan, hands still gripping his shoulders, listening to him groan in tandem with you as he slowly bottomed out. His pelvis pushed against you, your legs coming up to wrap around him, and you felt his hands pull your bra down so he could cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple, adding to the pleasure.
“You feel so fucking good… Fuck…” He was groaning, he hadn’t even started moving yet, and you were dying for him to start. He sat still in you, lapping at the skin between your jaw and neck, positive he could feel the vibrations on his lips of your moans.
“Please, Leon, move… Please,” Your nails were surely digging red streaks into the skin of his back by now, but he barely even seemed to notice, rather, you thought he might have loved the feeling of it instead. You felt the pressure of him lying on top of you, paired with the pressure building in between your legs, your thighs beginning to shake, having to hold onto Leon tighter to steady them.
Finally, he slowly started to pull out, and you could barely breathe at the sensation it left behind. He kept his face buried in your neck, you could feel his ragged, heavy breathing and you could hear his groaning which was only making you wetter.
His hips snapped forward, no regard to what pace you had wanted to set, not like it mattered, you probably would have told him quick and rough anyway if he asked. You almost screamed out at the feeling of him slamming into you, you could only throw your head back onto the couch cushion and rake your hands over his skin, into his hair. Leon licked a long stripe up your neck to your jaw, gently biting on your bottom lip before kissing you again.
You kept kissing him hard in between his thrusts, with him pulling away for only a second at a time, both of you breathing hard, your hands traveling down to grip his biceps, and you could feel them flexing with his movement.
“Shit,” He said over you, you could feel his breath on your lips. “So fucking tight,” One of his hands went down to grab onto one of your legs that you had thrown over him. “So fucking good.” He practically growled as he continued the assault on you, his hips showing no mercy, and his hand sure to leave a bruise on your thigh from his grip.
Leon pushed himself up, still inside of you, leaving you lying down. His skin was slick with his sweat, and maybe yours as well from being pressed against you. His hair was falling down over his forehead, and god he looked so good right now, if you weren’t already in the act of getting the shit fucked out of you, you would want to fuck him all over again. His hands adjusted their position to rest on your hips, pulling you up so he can fuck you from his kneeling position.
This new angle was hitting every spot perfectly, allowing him to go deeper than he was from just above you. The intense stretch his cock was delivering paired with the way he was holding onto your hips with such ferocity, all of it together was too much, and you were becoming unwound.
“Leon… Leon, fuck…” You gasped out, barely able to finish your sentence, but Leon understood well enough. He slowed his pace only a beat, but it was enough to have you straining, desperate for him to go faster to allow you to finish. He kept up with the slower pace, watching you as you whined under him, begging him to go faster.
“Please, Leon…” You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open. Through them, you could see him looking at you, brows furrowed in exertion, mouth open, chest rising and falling with rapid breathing.
“Please what?” Leon growled. You whined again, knowing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. “Say it.”
You couldn’t breathe, but you had to give him what he wanted so he could give you what you wanted. “Leon, please, I’m going to cum… please…”
He leaned in again, still holding your hips up, his pace even slower now, and you could feel the heat bundling up, bringing tears to your eyes at the lack of relief. His face was inches away from yours. “Please, what?”
You choked out a sob, mixed with a groan at the slightest movement he made inside of you. “Please let me cum Leon, please,” You had no voice at this point, the words coming out in a whisper, loud enough for him to hear, but he probably would have anyway.
“That’s right.” He backed up now, and resumed his previous position. “Good girls get what they want when they ask.” Your eyes closed in bliss when he picked up his pace, the weight of his words hanging heavy in your head, adding to the ecstasy he was giving you right now. He was slamming into you again, steadying himself on your hips while also pulling them forward to meet his thrusts. You had no breath left to spare on words anymore, and fruitless moans spilled from your lips focusing the energy on bringing your orgasm to close.
You tried to call out his name as best as you could, but all you heard were moans as the heat inside you came to a roaring burst, and you felt your legs tighten around Leon, his grip steadying you, your hands clawing at the cushion, at his wrists where they held onto you.
Your heartbeat was crazy at this point, and you couldn't even hold your eyes open as you rode out your orgasm, his hands smoothing over your skin, and you used the sensation to come back to reality. He had momentarily stilled his movements again, and you felt his lips on your neck, none of the roughness there now. You rolled your head over to the side to face him, and when you did he attached his lips to yours, a passionate kiss, his hands feeling like heaven on your body.
You pulled away and stared at him for a moment. His eyes were soft, but his face was still contorted in concentration.
“I hope you don’t think we’re done here, darling.” You breathed out a sigh, collecting yourself, a smile creeping onto your face.
You kissed him, and whispered into his lips, “Show me what you got left, then.”
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fanfiction#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy smut#fanfiction#resident evil 4#resident evil 4 fanfiction
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the next stop
summary: sometimes it’s a tad bit hard to hear your boyfriend on a busy train. (part 18 of @/ham_zero (TT)’s HTS)
word count: 1.1k
warnings: language (like once, I don’t think I’ve even sweared this little in a fic before), a lil suggestive ig
a/n: i found this tiktok account and i loved their high tension scenarios so i think ill make it a series ! here’s our favorite british gift shopist to kick it off (:
You pulled at your sleeves nervously as you and Steven speed walked towards the train station, all jazzed up. Steven was caught up in his phone, mumbling an incomprehensible jumble of words as he tried to pull up your tickets.
“Steven, hon, do you need help with that?” Your hand reached out to rest on his lower back, guiding him to the left to avoid a pole. “No, I got it,” Steven responded distractedly, batting away your other hand from grabbing the device. “I can figure this out on my own.”
You giggled. “Yeah, seems like that’s going well.”
“Hey. Not nice.”
You shrugged. “Just telling the truth.”
“That- come on! It was supposed to be right there!”
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” You came to a stop, looking up to your clearly frustrated boyfriend.
Steven hummed softly, not sparing you a look up.
“Steven,” you grabbed his phone. “Let me help you.”
“It’s pointless!” He threw his hands up. “You’ll never find it. I wasn’t able to and I’ve been looking for twenty bloody-“
“Found it!” You placed the phone back in Steven’s hand with a triumphant smile.
“Wha-“ He gaped.
“C’mon,” you yanked on his hand. “We gotta catch the train.”
He huffed, letting himself be dragged along. “You won’t tell me how you did it, will you.”
You turned back to him with a sly smile. “I gotta be useful for something.”
——
“Hurry!” You laughed, running towards the train. “We’re gonna miss it!” Steven finished his cup of coffee quickly, tossing it in the trash can to his left before chasing after you. “Hey,” he said once he fell in line with your strides. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine, we’re not gonna miss the show.”
You shot him a glare as you got to the train stop. “You don’t know that.”
He caught your fidgety hands in his own. “I do. Relax.”
You huffed. “Trying.”
“Good.”
Barely a minute later, the train pulled up to the station in all of its glory. “Oh, bullocks,” Steven grumbled beside you. “It’s packed. You can’t hear a thing in there.”
You swallowed sharply. “Glad I’m not claustrophobic, jeez.”
Steven chuckled, placing his hand in yours as you ventured together into the train. “Me too.”
The two of you found a place near a pole, you holding it and Steven holding your waist. There were barely two inches in front of you, trapping you in the position you were in. You looked up at Steven, smiling softly at the man you had the privilege of calling yours.
His eyes were cast outward, surveying the London landscape with bright, eager eyes. His curls were askew from your previous running excursion, blowing lightly from the train fan. His strong jawline was so close it would take practically no movement at all to kiss it. The notion was tempting, and you had to set your own jaw to stop yourself.
And his outfit. Gods, you were sure he was wearing it just to drive you crazy. The navy slacks that fit snugly, the white button up, the navy blazer that matched his pants. And his rings. You’d never coined Steven as the type of person to want to wear the rings (Marc ran more along those lines), but you had to admit it fit him perfectly.
You let your eyes trail Steven (almost) shamelessly as he was caught up in his own world, occasionally shaking his head at the sound of a stop so that he could gauge how long you guys had until you needed to get off.
Your brain went a million directions the longer you stared, and before long you were enveloped in your own world as well. So long that you didn’t notice your stop was coming up.
Steven, on the other hand, did. He shook himself out of his thoughts and squeezed your waist as if to tell you without vocalizing it. When you didn’t shake, he looked down to find you glassy eyed and lost in thought. He smiled. “Love, we’re getting off on the next stop.”
You didn’t answer, only smiled softly as if thinking of something funny. Steven realized then how loud the train was, and that you probably couldn’t hear him. He chuckled softly when an idea hit him, leaning down. “Hey, our stop is next.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, placing a kiss there before pulling back just enough to see your face turn bright red, but not far enough to properly stand.
“Got it!” You shoved his shoulder abruptly, nearly knocking him into the person next to him. His strong hand tightened on your waist and brought him back to you, prompting him to shift to stand right behind you and rest his chin on your head. You frantically willed your face to calm down, bringing a hand to poorly cover your face in embarrassment.
“You alright?” Your boyfriend’s voice floated from above, his jaw moving against your head. His sharp jaw. You flushed a deeper red, struggling to get a grasp. “Mhm!” Your voice was pinched and you were sure Steven could tell you were flustered.
“That wasn’t very convincing.”
You elbowed him lightly. “I’m fine!”
“Y/n.” You could hear the smirk now.
“Please just give me a sec.”
A laugh broke loose. “Alright, I’m just playing.”
You rolled your eyes, focusing back on the task at hand. Your face was barely contained by the time the train met the next stop, Steven grabbing your hand and dragging you out. He bounced on his toes as you made your way to the theater. “Steven, hon,” you pulled your arm to alert him. “Calm down, you’re yanking my arm out of its socket.”
He slowed immediately. “Oh bullocks, I’m sorry.”
You giggled. “Hey, like you said, we’re not gonna miss the show. We’re like twenty minutes early.”
He nodded. “Yeah, alright, it’s just…”
“You’re jumpy, I get it. I was the same way earlier, remember?”
“Yeah, you were, yeah.”
You nudged his shoulder playfully, turning to watch the sunset that framed him. The oranges and blues and pinks offered the perfect background as Steven’s face was sheathed in a warm light from the fading sun. “Gods.”
Steven looked down at you then, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Huh? Did you say something?”
“Wha?” You played it off, cheeks dusting a rosy pink. “No, I just- nothing.”
Steven’s lips lifted knowingly. “Uh huh, and your glassy gaze and red cheeks from earlier were nothing, too, yeah?”
You glared at him. “You bastard.”
“That’s a bit rude to say, innit?”
You tutted at him mockingly. “And you’re making fun of me. Guess we’re both being a bit rude.”
He laughed, a belly laugh that shook his whole body. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Steven.”
#moon knight#jake lockley#marc spector#steven grant#oscar issac#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#marc spector x reader#marvel
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A/N: Here’s my first post-series fic. Sigh.
***
Happy Ever After
Deeks stepped in through the patio door, a blast of cool air shocking compared to the heat outside. What had started out as a suggestion of drinks with Sam yesterday had turned into a full blown cookout with the inclusion of Anna and Callen.
Quietly padding through the house, he found Kensi curled up with one year old Caleb cradled against her chest. She’d brought him inside to escape the heat for a little while she nursed him. She looked up from her phone with a smile as he walked in.
“Hey, I thought you were manning the grill.”
“Hotdogs, hamburgers, and fowl all cooked,” Deeks replied, leaving over to kiss the top of Caleb’s head. Caleb looked out of the corner of his eye, distracted from his current task.
“I really wish you would quit calling the chicken that,” Kensi said with a roll of her eyes.
“So why aren’t you being the gracious and enigmatic host?”
Deeks shrugged. “I missed you guys.”
“Oh, well that’s a very good reason,” Kensi decided, kissing Caleb’s cheek. “You’re going to be too big for me to hold like that soon,” she to,d him, rearranging her shirt.
Caleb regarded her seriously for a second, the smiled, revealing to tiny white bottom teeth.
“How’s everybody doing out there?”
“Well, I heard Callen talking with Rosa about the best way to dissolve a body and I’m pretty sure Sam’s giving Sophia state secrets,” Deeks responded flippantly.
“Excellent,” Kensi said with a nod. “Can you take him back outside?” She stood, giving him a last squeeze.
“Yep. You need anything?”
“Just this.” Kensi beckoned to him, drawing him closer by the back of his neck, kissing him soundly. “Now I’m perfect.”
“Mm, me too,” Deeks murmured. Between them, Caleb made a smacking noise, looking at each of them expectantly. “And a kiss for baby too,” he added, kissing his round little cheek.
“Ok, I’ll be out in a few minutes. I gotta cut up some more fruit.”
When Deeks walked back out, things were much the same as he’d left them, though Anna was now standing with Rosa and Callen, and they seemed to be mapping out some kind of game in the grass.
Deeks wandered over a few yards where Sam sat on a law chair, Caleb’s twin, Sophia, balanced on his knee. “Uncle Sam,” Sam coached her slowly, emphasizing each sound.
“Dee,” she said.
“That was a good try, but not quite. Watch my mouth. Ssssam.”
Sophia screwed up her little face. “Deeeee!”
“We’re still kind of working on the basics,” Deeks informed Sam with a smile. “Like mom, dad, up. We’re very good at saying ‘no’.”
“No!” Sophia and Caleb shouted together right on cue, reaching for each other.
Deeks set Caleb on his feet, letting the little boy hold onto his index fingers as he toddled forward to his sister. Sam set her on the ground with a reluctant sigh.
“You know, I swear the only reason you come around anymore is for the babies,” Deeks teased him.
“So what if I do? Nothing like a baby’s laugh,” Sam said without any embarrassment.
“You got that right, brother.” They watched the twins “talk” to each other in a combination of almost words and incomprehensible jargon. Apparently it made perfect sense to them though.
“The one you should be questioning is Mr. I-Don’t-Know-If-I-Want-Kids over there,” Sam told him, pointing across the yard. “Every time I come here, he manages to find some excuse to tag along.”
“Hey, we’re happy to have you guys. Makes up for not seeing you every day at work,” Deeks said.
Picking Caleb up under his armpits, Deeks swung him around to face him, then tossed him a few feet in the air. Caleb squealed, face delighted as he safely landed back in Deeks’ hands.
“Mo!” he shouted, clapping his hands together. Grinning, Deeks obliged. Sophia pulled herself up using Sam’s leg as leverage, clinging with one hand as she reached towards Deeks with the other, and chanted,
“Da! Da! Da!”
“Of course I wouldn’t forget my baby girl,” Deeks crooned, giving her a couple turns.
“Which is why you’re going to be in so much trouble when she gets older,” Kensi observed, approaching them with a partitioned plate full of strawberries, watermelon, and blueberries.
“Heh, tell me about it,” Sam chuckled.
“Bebe?” Sophia requested, pointing to the plate and Kensi handed a halved strawberry to her. Caleb chose “meme” (watermelon).
Sam winced as a sticky had grabbed onto his clean shorts.
“Yeah, you’re probably going to wanna keep your distance until these guys are done and we have a chance to hose ‘Em down,” Deeks suggested wisely.
“Oh, Uncle Sammie wouldn’t mind a little stickiness for his favorite little niece and nephew, would he?” Kensi asked innocently.
“First of all, it’s Uncle Sam and they’re my only little nephew and niece at the moment. And I’ll change diapers and burp them, but I draw the line at sticky and gooey,” he disagreed. “But I bet their Uncle Grisha would feel differently.”
“Ok, but last chance to smell like strawberries and watermelon for the rest of the day. No takers? Fine.” Letting Kensi take Caleb, he hefted Sophia onto his hip, ruffling her golden brown curls. “There’s more beer in the white cooler if you want it.”
Stepping into the grass, they made their way over to Sam, Callen, and Rosa.
“You guys give up on the game?” Deeks asked.
“Callen wanted to play volleyball, but Rosa and I convinced him it was too hot,” she explained, nodding hopefully at Sophia. Kensi handed her over with a good-natured smile.
“And also really difficult without a net.”
“So why’s Sam pouting?” Callen asked.
“He was trying to get the kids to say his name.” Deeks pulled a face. “Sophia keeps calling him “Dee” for some reason.”
Callen snorted, face breaking into a delighted grin. “Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Uh, I’ve been teaching them to call him Mr. T,” he said, barely containing his amusement.
“Dee!” Caleb shouted excitedly while Sophia pointed and waved at Sam.
“Oh no, Callen, you didn’t,” Kensi said, covering her mouth. Rosa just laughed outright.
“That is amazing,” Deeks chuckled.
“I honestly didn’t think they’d pick it up that quick.”
“Callen, that’s terrible,” Anna admonished him. “Funny, but really, really terrible.”
“Hey, this stay between us for now,” Callen said, looking between them.
“Of course,” Kensi agreed.
“Or, at least until the twins learn to pronounce ‘t’,” Deeks amended.
“And Mister,” Rosa added under her breath.
***
A/N: Yes, I’m sticking with twins and their names are officially Caleb and Sophia. Also, they’re very fresh one year olds, which is why their words still sound a more baby like.
#ncis la fanfiction#densi#marty deeks#kensi blye#Rosa Reyes#Callen and Anna#Sam#Caleb and Sophia Deeks#fluff#family fic#post new beginnings part 2#ejzah fanfiction
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whence-ever inspiration strikes, jealous!Jack is my favorite trope in 1386 fic and I feel you'd hit it absolutely out of the park. absolutely no pressure or expectations or anything at all, pls ignore if you want.
the glimpses we get of it in the "bewitched" when Jack's trying to figure out who Nico likes and your little endnote in the "april prompt collection" god so so so juicy!
on god please come back and tell me more of your thoughts on the jealous!Jack tropes!! 👀 I would simply like to hear it!!!
I can only imagine there's a certain kind of hunger all hockey players with their eyes on the silver prize have on teams that do survive the season and make it to a playoff run. And I'm channelling a lot of that into my fic version of jealous Jack LOL
I was surprised by the love that little endnote received! so here's a little snippet from the standalone wip so far 😇
“Are these all for Nico?” he demands, scrunching up handfuls of paper like they’re some kind of damning evidence.
The guys all exchange looks. Jonas is the only one who speaks, giving Jack an exasperated look.
“Yeah, because he was a pretty convincing actor last night and really played it up. You were watching the live feed, weren’t you?”
“Of course I was, but I didn’t—there wasn’t—I didn’t see all this!” He waves the beer label at them, where an undeniably male scrawl announced yet another phone number, but it’s nearly incomprehensible. What a fucking idiot, to get the opportunity to give his contact info to Nico and fumble it with bad handwriting. These people don’t deserve him.
“You get people flirting with you and dropping you their numbers every time we go out for drinks.”
“I’m not working when we’re out. Plus, I don’t entertain any of that!”
“Well, it’s not like these people knew we were working either,” Jonas says. “That’s the whole point of a stealth mission.”
“Chill, Jack,” Timo says, staring at him like he’s grown an extra head. “People just handed these off to us when they saw we were with Neeks. We had to pretend like we were actually gonna give them to him.”
An irrational lightning bolt of fear strikes Jack’s chest. “You didn’t, did you?” he asks.
“No, obviously not—”
Jack scoops up all of the numbers and stuffs them into the pockets of his sweater, scowling when he spies a fucking lipstick stain on one of them.
don’t be a stranger, babe. 856-556-788 Cherri xoxo
That one gets shredded and goes straight into the bin.
“Oookay,” Jonas says.
#asks#imperatorrrrr#my writing#ive discovered lately that I'm a muser in the tags and the notes section LOL it's become my way of brainstorming#problem with that is I never remember which post or fic I've written things under#versus my notes app on my phone which is nearly worse bc I write everything from grocery lists to train schedules to event itineraries ther
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We’re stl here! She ra fans are still here!! YOUR fans are still here and not going anywhere! I think a lot of fans are just horny and give more engagement for rated E stuff lol. Also I (personally) try not to bombard my fav writers when I can tell they have shit going on irl- and I know you have dealt with a lot of sickness/pain lately so I dont want to be annoying! Could be the case for others. But we are here :)
aw i do appreciate it <3 ive been having such issues this year it has shaped.... literally everything, from irl stuff to slowing down my writing and also making interacting hard not just with yall but with my friends and family. sometimes messages stress me because i know i cant answer them (especially when i really want to), but i also like talking to you guys a lot its just very difficult at times. ive been having an extended episode for like three weeks now so thats. fun and easy. but! honestly its good to hear that and it is very kind of you <3 rn im on the border where im a little incomprehensible but feeling good enough to kinda ramble.
i feel like i keep mentioning the fandom "shrinking" but honestly i usually bring it up because i know it discourages new people who want to start making art or w/e for catradora and feel like "they missed their chance" but like yeah, youre exactly right, we're still here! if you're interested in catradora, you WILL find other people who still are and we're glad to have you (two cakes, etc).
i don't think the catradora fandom is small by any means, or even shrinking fast, it is just a fact that we used to be very high on the list of top ships, and now we're number 38 - still a big number despite the difference (ive never been in a fandom that ranked before im sure). which is why i brought it up for locked fics now seeing more "engagement" loss than before and part of my motivation to keep working on my stories comes from you guys! because im adhd and struggle with motivation/staying on task lol, so if i cant do something quickly (which hasnt been possible for like a year, you might noticed some of my "long fics" this year are shorter than years previous, though thats also story differences. look at SaD, which i thought would be short, and, well....), hearing other people be invested in it helps to stir up my own investment and keep me going so that was the reason it was a con i had to weigh despite generally focusing on what i like to write/read (side adhd tangent, i love how i started in my fics being like "well i could write adora as adhd or autistic but i worry about my outside perspective" and even worrying about how i do autistic representation to now knowing full well im both and gaining a deeper understanding of my life from it /end). i do think the lock will be very temporary (most likely because the damage is done, but hopefully because of some improvement/we find something new)
i did not mean to harp more on that and i think this will be the last time i mention it im just very rambling right now. anyway this message was sweet and i appreciate you <3
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For the writing asks, 14, 39, and 23?
14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.
Alrighty, here’s the first sentence of what may eventually become a sequel to the YouTuber AU.
Joel tried to not make a sound as he tiptoed around the jungle that was their living room.
39. Wildest AU scenario you have written?
Out of the works I’ve published on AO3, Joonas and Niko doing each other’s hair and make-up in the YouTuber AU comes to my mind first 😂 but if we count all the AU stuff I’ve done here on tumblr, it’s got to be the Wonderland AU, which is even written in an incomprehensible bullet point form 😆
23. Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?
Just answered this one but I’m happy to talk about it a bit more! As I said, descriptions can often be more challenging to me, but I do sometimes struggle with trying to make the dialogue work as well, especially with rpf, because I can get a little obsessive about whether this-and-this character would ACTUALLY say something like this and so on. It all comes back to me wanting to make the story as believable as possible, and the authenticity of the dialogue plays an enormous part in it, in my opinion. Obviously, when speaking of fiction written about real people (and particularly writing it in a language that is not their native tongue) it can never be fully authentic and I understand that, but I mean it more in terms of the characters I’ve made of them, because that’s what they essentially are; we’re not writing about the actual Joel Hokka or Joonas Porko, but instead ”Joel Hokka” and ”Joonas Porko”, but again, in my humble opinion, fanfiction is a lot more fun if it’s easier for me to actually imagine the characters say these things out loud 😌 (or any human being for that matter; so many books I’ve read (i.e. actual published novels by professional authors) where I’ve lost all interest in the story because the dialogue just didn’t work and all I could think was ”NO ONE TALKS LIKE THAT?!”)
#thank you!! 💙#now everyone hold your horses about me actually ever continuing that sequel 😂#the starting point is now there though! so i might as well 🤔#i do have an idea for it 😌#and speaking of fic ideas and sequels:#a while ago for another fic ask i shared a sneak peak of an abandoned sequel for the college au#well. as it turns out just the other day i actually got a pretty good idea for the sequel in which i can use what i've already written! :D#not making any promises but... 😏
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Some Thoughts on My Struggle IV
The X-Files ended in 2018 with My Struggle IV exactly the way it should have done. It’s exactly what the audience needed. It’s exactly what Mulder and Scully needed.
I know as viewers we’re not used to getting concrete explanations for things, but the truth is: The way this show ended originally made the revival necessary. The unanswered questions at the end of The Truth and the will-they-won’t-they angst-ridden conclusion to I Want To Believe only kept us wondering. It kept us in the dark about what the actual outcome was. I stand by My Struggle IV because it said with complete certainty: Mulder and Scully are safe at last. It was the third ending we didn’t know we’d needed all along. That closure was like cathartic release.
At the end of the day, Mulder and Scully set out to find William. Not to bring him home or build him into the family, but to make sure he was okay. That was the only thing they wanted to do. Scully specifically wanted to make sure she hadn’t treated him like trash. Well, it all came to fruition. They got to William. They knew he was okay. And even if at the very end they didn’t know he was still alive then they knew that he didn’t want to be found. That he wanted them to let him go. Trying to find ways to shoehorn him back into their lives with fix-it-fic only diminishes what actually happened. What their whole character development was.
I see people say sometimes that ‘no meaningful X-Files content has been made in the last 20 years’, and it makes me so SAD. Because, don’t you see what you’re missing? Is there nothing meaningful in I Want to Believe and Don’t Give Up? Is there nothing meaningful in Babylon and Finding A Common Language Again? The character development in the revival is so IMPORTANT that sometimes I wonder how I ever tolerated Scully when she believed herself not to be responsible for William. When she and Mulder couldn’t talk to each other about these things. One of the most meaningful developments in the revival is them finally getting past their communication problems and actually talking to one another for the first time in 25 years. A five-minute scene in Nothing Lasts Forever has them realising that they want the same things now. That they have their leaps of faith and they want to achieve them together. If you’re looking for something more meaningful than that, then… I don’t know what to tell you.
Even if you don’t think MSiv was the greatest of storytelling, or the entire revival had its flaws, then I’m not about to disagree with you. However. The people who expected this show to come back after 15 years and to be exactly like 1993 again are… crazy. It was never going to be like that. I don’t think it could have been like that. I don’t think it should have been. I don't think that was the point. It needed to be different. Because Mulder and Scully were different. And yes, God knows it had its memorable monsters of the week and the incomprehensible mythology arcs and the off-the-scale tragedy and sweet MSR moments and the jump-the-shark episodes that made it feel like old times; but the point of it was not to go back to the beginning. The point of the revival was to give us what we’d always been looking for. Closure. A nostalgia trip. A victory lap. A goodbye. A chance to see Fox and Dana one last time when we thought we never would.
The Truth and I Want To Believe paved the way for My Struggle IV. And, no, maybe it didn’t always have to end this way, but aren’t you glad that it did? Of all the things that could have happened in the last five minutes, what we got was the best possible scenario. The both of them standing hugging underneath harbour lights beginning the next chapter of their lives is an amazing ending point. It’s exactly where we should leave them. We don’t need to see what happens next because we know what happens next. Mulder and Scully get the chance to be parents again, in a world where they’re not hunted down by conspiracies, or aliens, or the Cigarette Smoking Man. They get to live in a world free of the FBI where they can come home at night to their children without the darkness following them in. That hopefulness alone is more than enough. If that isn’t a happily ever after, I don’t know what is. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully got their happy ending. I promise you, they did.
#I just#have some VERY strong feelings about MSiv#and sometimes i just gotta get them out#because I adore it with all of my heart and I always have and I always will and I wish more people LOVED IT AS MUCH AS I DO#i wrote this while listening to Home Again on repeat can you TELL#my struggle iv#11x10#txf#confession#when i say i like txf#i like all of txf#and i don't think that's ever going to change :)#<3
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wine: ingredient 27 + spice 1/11/19 for feral!megumi pls and thank u 👀 💕
— unstoppable
now that megumi’s had a taste of you, there’s nothing stopping him from having more.
meal order: 27 (siblings’ friend au) + 1,11,19 (breeding kink, dumbification, dirty talking)
feral megumi x fem! reader
content/warnings: nsfw, breeding kink, dumbification, dirty talking, feral megumi, the breeding kink is MASSIVE, we’re talking about babies here so just tread lightly, unedited fic. megumi is really uh...FERAL, so get your holy water
masterlist ! my milestone event !
Megumi’s large palm covered your mouth, preventing the lewd sounds of your moan to echo around the room. His cock is buried into you to the hilt, your walls spasming around him like crazy while you stare up at him with large eyes.
His eyes are narrowed, teeth sunken into the swell of his lips as he watches his fat cock plunge in and out of your squelching hole. He’s wanted to do this for so long, to finally claim you as his, but it was just so damn impossible to be near you when his older sister never left the room.
Megumi couldn’t even remember when or how this started. All he knew was that one day his sister brought you home for a sleepover or whatever, and the first thing he noticed was your smile.
You cowered under his sharp gaze when he caught you rummaging the fridge that night while his sister was already sound asleep, and Megumi was half sleepwalking with the same mission as yours. Through his tired daze, his cock immediately hardened at the sight of you bent over as you reached down, ass perked and tits free from a bra.
Before any of you could realize what was happening, Megumi tugged your wrists, dragging you to his room where you were now laying on his bed, legs wide open and begging for him to go harder.
“G-Gumi, please,” you whined, eyes rolling at the back of your head. It was too dirty; Megumi’s grip on your hips kept slipping because of the sweat coating both of your bodies, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin barely muffled under the sheets. “Ha-harder, Gumi, fuck, right there,” your hips snap forwards to meet the harsh thrusts of his cock, his fingers teasing as he rubs your clit.
“Say that again,” Megumi groaned in your ear, nipping at the flesh when your nails gripped at his ass to pull him closer. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. You’re so fucking tight around me,” at his words, your walls clench around him, aroused that your best friend’s seemingly quiet younger brother had such ability to exude this sexual prowess.
Megumi didn’t miss the way you tighten around him, small gasps hidden through his palm. He laughed at your state, but follows your command anyway.
He moved upward and leaned closer to you, removing his palm from your hand to wipe away the hair plastered on your sweaty skin. “Moan for me,” he demanded, pupils blown wide with lust while his pace slowed down. You’re left gasping and shaking under his arms when Megumi begins a torturous pace of pulling out his cock inch by inch, letting you feel the way the veins on his dick kiss your wet walls before slamming back in one go.
Your breasts bounced at the thrust and your tongue lolls out, gasping for the air he’s deprived you of. Always having been eager to please, you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, moaning as loud as you could. Megumi’s thrusts increased in pace at how good you were for him.
“Fuck,” Megumi planted his palm beside your face, thumb pinching at the tongue that was making a mess all over his pillow. “Look at you, so fucked out. You’re a naughty little girl, aren’t you? I bet you really wanted me to fuck you – walking around with that ass and your tits hanging out. What would you do if my sister finds out?” he latched his teeth into the crook of your shoulder, faltering for a moment when he hits your g-spot and you scream around his cock. “Fuck, baby, you’re not even trying to be quiet. You’re basically begging to be caught, aren’t you?”
You couldn’t answer him. All you could feel is Megumi’s harsh rutting, his cock hitting places deeper than your fingers or any man could. “N-no,” you defended yourself lamely, eyes closed while Megumi squeezes your cheek. “I’m a good girl, ‘Gumi, I’m g-good for you, oh,” you fist the sheets beside you when he hits a certain sensitive spot that has you seeing white.
Megumi growled at your submission, chuckling when he saw how your pussy eagerly sucked him in. “Your pussy looks so pretty wrapped around my cock,” he used two fingers to spread your lips open, sucking in a breath once he saw that his dick was already creamed white. “Such a dirty little girl – but you’re good for me, aren’t you? You’ll always warm my dick, yeah? Such a good fucking girl – I could fuck you all day and ruin your insides until you’re mine.”
Your eyes snapped open at his words, mouth falling open.
“Well?” he questioned, snapping his hips harder when you only clutch at his bicep, panting wordlessly. “Shit,” Megumi snickered, “Have you gone too dumb to answer me, baby? Too fucked out on my cock?” He leant down to suck at your tits, hands coming up to tug at his hair at the overwhelming sensation. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Tell me.”
“F-fuck,” was all you ever managed to say, your legs aching and sore from him pushing into you relentlessly. Megumi didn’t let down one bit, only prompting you to voice out your pleasure to please him. “S-so good, Gumi, too much, your cock is too much, fill me up, fill me up, please, I want—”
“You want me to fuck a baby in you?”
You nodded, too lost in your own heaven and hell to even make sense of things anymore. Megumi nipped at your flesh, his cock already twitching inside you. It seemed that both of you had the same thing in mind because Megumi pushes your legs open wider for him, allowing him to hit deeper and his strokes longer than before.
“I’m going to fill you full with my cum, okay?” he rasped into your skin, and you cry around him, cheeks pressed into his pillow that smelled a lot like boy shampoo. “You’re going to make me a dad and you’ll be such a pretty mommy, belly round with my kid and bulging with my cum.”
“Y-yes, Gumi, please, fuck a baby in me,” you drawled out, your arm reached out behind you to grasp at the headboard. The way Megumi snapped his hips to yours had your head and body shoving backwards, the friction against your skin hot and irritating, but you couldn’t care anymore. Your head is empty, thoughts filled with nothing but being such a young mom with Megumi fathering your kids, your pussy soaked in his cum and stomach round with life. “Baby, baby, baby,” your words were incomprehensible, hands running everywhere just to feel him close to you. “Fuck a baby in me, Megumi, come on, do it for me.”
“So fucking precious,” Megumi praised, and you thought – no, you believed – he’d already be satisfied when he stills, his toned abdomen clenching as Megumi groaned, releasing his load inside you.
Like the good girl you were, you spasmed your walls around his twitching dick, fingers fumbling to scoop all the dripping cum back into your body. Megumi didn’t pull out as he kissed you, his hands curling into a fist to grapple at your hair, both of you moaning breathlessly into each other’s mouth.
“So full,” you gasped, wincing slightly at the oversensitivity. “Thank you, Megumi. I-I feel so good, heaven, yes, fuck.”
Megumi laughed at how fucked out you are. But he wasn’t done with you yet, not when he’d already had a taste of what your pussy felt like. He couldn’t erase the image of you walking around with a huge belly mothering his kids, igniting something feral within him. Before you could open your eyes and pull him out, Megumi flipped you over, hands pulling your ass flat on his crotch while your face planted on the pillows.
“Me-Megumi!” you gasped when you felt his dick lining up at your entrance again, his cock still impossibly harder.
“What, baby girl?” he challenged with a sinister undertone as he rubbed the tip of his cock into your flushed, squirming lips. You were so wet that he slid inside easily and you both took a sharp breath; just like him, you were still so ready, ready to be fucked again. “I’m not done with you yet,” his hand came down to push your face onto the neck until you’re struggling to breathe, but it only urged Megumi when the lack of air had your walls suffocating him.
With a dark laugh, Megumi exhaled into your ear, the warm breath sending chills down your spine. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, until you’re so sore and filled with my cum you’re begging me to save you from my misery – and you’ll take it all a good girl. I’m not stopping until I know for sure you’re carrying my child.”
Before you could say anything else, Megumi had already fucked you so hard he got his wish; to see you sprawled on his sheets, drooling and crying all over his pillow, and he remained true to his word.
Megumi didn’t stop until your belly was bulging with his cum.
He’d gone absolutely feral, and he was unstoppable.
#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk#megumi x reader imagines#jjk x reader#megumi x reader smut#fushiguro megumi imagines#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader romance#jujutsu kaisen smut#fushiguro megumi smut#megumi x reader fluff#megumi x reader fics#fushiguro megumi x reader imagines#suki: 500 milestone event
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masterlist — rules — taglist form — request through my ask !
EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED . . ➯ CEDRIC DIGGORY
pairing: cedric diggory x f!reader | genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, some pining | warnings: cursing, bad writing lmfao | word count: 2,098
isha's notes: this is a long one lol i got VERY carried away .. <3 i started writing this at around 6pm and i'm now posting this at almost 12 midnight KJSKJS this is why i cannot, for the life of me, post a fic a day (i salute anyone who does !!!)
“you good to go?” y/n, previously lost in thought, tore her eyes away from the window of the train. she hurriedly slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up the sleeping calico beside her, “yeah, yeah, sorry.”
cedric diggory stood at the doorway of the compartment, a smirk resting on his lips. he clicked his tongue and shook his head as the two walked down the narrow hallway of the hogwarts express. “if i hadn’t come and looked for you, who knows where you’ll be once you get your head out of the clouds.”
cedric’s hot breath fanned the back of her neck as he spoke. “oh, what to do without you, diggory?” y/n scoffed, “you’ve had your head boy badge for no less than a day and think you’re some hero.”
“y/l/n, i’ve saved your ass a hundred times,” cedric retorted back as he jumped off the train onto the platform. he extended a hand towards her, “at this point, i should be a chocolate frog card.”
“fits because you are a total toad,” the girl snapped back, ignoring his outstretched hand and walked past the amused brunette. cedric soon caught up with her, placing a heavy arm over her shoulder making y/n wince. “tell me what you were thinking about?”
“ow, ced, take your bloody arm — wait!” y/n shouted out of the blue, taking cedric’s hand and dragging him towards the self-pulling carriage that was about to leave for the castle. they sprinted as fast as their legs could while waving their hands frantically.
y/n can hear cedric’s breathless giggles as he holds her hand tighter. she looked over at him. the yellowy white glow of the moon looming big in the clear september night sky made his face look … warmer, contrasting the chilly breeze flowing past them as they ran hand in hand. cedric looked back at her, eyes bright and smiling. maybe that’s where all the stars went, she thought.
the two out of breath teenagers finally settled in the carriage after an earful from professor mcgonagall about punctuality. cedric and y/n shared a glance before bursting in laughter, ignoring the weirded out glances the two second years in they shared the carriage with threw at them.
that night, y/n lay wide-eyed in her bed, her mind racing with thoughts about the upcoming school year: the arrival of the durmstrang and beauxbatons kids and the triwizard tournament. as she pictured the image of the brunette under the moonlight, she thought maybe her sixth year was the start of something new.
all i knew, this morning when i woke, is i know something now, know something now i didn’t before.
y/n awoke that wednesday morning with flushed cheeks, eyes blinking uncontrollably as she tried to recall the slipping memory of her dream. they played back in fast motion, blurry and confusing. she was unable to focus on a certain still frame other than the feeling of her best friend’s hand stroking her hair, his soft lips finding its home on her forehead. she could still hear the echo of his voice saying something incomprehensible but filling her heart with warmth nonetheless.
she dashed towards the bathroom in their dorm ignoring the questions from her roommates. cold water trickled down her face as she rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the image of cedric diggory’s smile at the back of her eyelids.
“what the fuck,” y/n whispered under her breath as she stared at herself on the mirror. “what the fuck.”
“you okay, y/n?” emily, one of her roommates, called from the other side of the door. “we’re heading down for breakfast now.”
“yes, i’m fine!” y/n shouted back, patting her face dry with a towel, “i’ll just catch-up with you guys at the great hall.”
i just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now.
ever since her dream, cedric looked and felt like a different person. y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly why his grey eyes looked dreamier or how his voice seemed to be laced with honey or how his touch felt like there were supernovae exploding on her skin. she had known the boy since they were little, wide-eyed and without a care in the world. he was just cedric — the golden boy of hogwarts, kind, brave, irresistibly handsome…
y/n shook her head slightly.
“this —” george bellowed out of nowhere causing y/n to jump in her seat, the ham from her club sandwich falling on the grass, “— is a gift for you, dear friend.”
“my ham is ruined!” y/n huffed as she looked at the sad-looking piece of meat. angelina, who sat beside her, chuckled as she patted her back.
“we’re sorry about that, but we bet you a hundred galleons that this is better!” said fred, occupying the space beside her. in his hands was a red box filled with what appeared to be sweets individually wrapped in colorful packaging. “take one, y/n.”
y/n looked at the twins sternly, cautiously dipping her hand into the box. “if this is one of your joke products, i swear to god i’m going to punch the smirks out of your faces.”
“shiver me timbers,” george mocked, a sly smirk on his face. “go on, y/n/n. try one!”
y/n took a piece, unwrapping it slowly to reveal a bright dual-colored pastille with a citrusy grape scent. she was about to bite off the orange-colored side when it suddenly flew from between her fingertips to a good few meters behind them.
“i just saved you from spilling your guts all over your herbology textbook,” cedric diggory, dashing as ever, stood in front of the small group. he held his wand in front of him, suggesting that he was the one who sent the pastille flying. he sat himself on the grass, picking up the discarded candy wrapper. “puking pastilles.”
“what a spoilsport,” fred exclaimed.
“we were just trying to test our products!” added george.
“on your unsuspecting friend?” cedric questioned.
“oh, come on, diggory. a classic weasley prank won’t do harm on your girlfriend,” fred teased, high-fiving with his giggling twin. angelina, who was trying to hide her laughter at cedric’s and y/n’s expressions, nudged the girl teasingly.
“sod off, weasley,” y/n exclaimed.
she threaded her fingers together, distracting herself from cedric’s burning gaze. her cheeks were a shade of pink from fred’s remark so she couldn’t show her face. as far as she knows, cedric was no legilimens but it felt like he could read his mind if she ever so slightly meet his eyes.
and all my walls stood tall painted blue; but I'll take 'em down, take 'em down and open up the door for you.
cedric and y/n sat on a bench at the courtyard. cedric was laying on his back, his head cradled on y/n’s lap as she read a muggle book. it was the night after the intense first task which cedric has graciously came out well and alive. the victory party had died down a little and the two friends decided to go out for a breather, the dancing and drinking tiring their bones but still refusing to call it a night.
“i’m scared,” cedric confessed. slightly taken aback, y/n put her book down. she looked at his face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks devoid of its usual rosy tint. his grey eyes stared at the star-studded night sky, fearful and uncertain.
y/n stroke his hair gently. “i know, and i am too,” cedric closed his eyes, “the tournament … we knew it’s going to be difficult and treacherous, but i believe in you, ced. we’re going to get through this together.”
cedric wasn’t one to open up to people. despite his polite and friendly reputation, he was mostly a closed book. he grew up with the promise and pressure of greatness, holding his father’s and the school’s expectations on his shoulders. it was hard to show weakness when every one thought of you as strong.
but it was different with y/n. with her, there was no need to hide.
cedric opened his eyes. he met her gaze causing butterflies to erupt in her stomach. the longer he held her gaze, more and more appeared as they began to rise to her lungs making it harder to breathe.
god was he beautiful. so beautiful that she wanted to kiss him right then and there.
that’s your best friend, for godric’s sake.
cedric chuckled, shifting his eyes back to the stars. fuck, y/n thought. he’s reading my mind, i swear —
“you’re looking at me like that again,” he said.
“like what?”
“like you want to kiss me,” cedric answered. “trust me, i know, because i look at you that way too.”
‘cause all i know is we said ‘hello’, and your eyes look like coming home.
“i’ll see you after potions?” cedric asked as y/n sat with her friends in the great hall.
“yep, so we can finally figure out that stupid egg together,” y/n nodded, returning his smile before walking back to the hufflepuff table.
fred cleared his throat, “are you done ogling at your best friend?”
y/n sent him a pointed look, “what is it with you, fred?”
“you and diggory are the daftest, shallowest people in all of the wizarding world,” fred exasperated.
“cedric is the golden boy of hogwarts and you’re at the top of our year yet you two are the biggest idiots i know,” george added. “and that’s saying something because ronald weasley is my brother.”
“and … ?”
george sighed in frustration, “you painfully obviously fancy each other!”
y/n chuckled nervously, returning her attention to her lunch. “you’re talking out of your arse, weasley.”
“look, has he asked you out to the yule ball?” fred inquired as he leaned closer to the girl. y/n only stared at him without a word. “he has not? oh, he’s really stupid.”
“that’s not a problem,” george said, licking gravy off the back of his spoon. “you should ask him, y/n. we live in modern times, there’s no shame in that.”
y/n sighed, adjusting her posture. “i’m already going with someone, for your information. and if you excuse me, i want to eat my lunch in peace.”
all i know is you held the door, you’ll be mine and i’ll be yours.
she felt magical.
y/n stared at her reflection on the bathroom mirror, a big grin on her lips.
“y/n/n, you look so gorgeous,” emily complimented, tucking some of her lose hair behind her ear.
y/n faced her friend and enveloped her in a tight hug, “you too, emmy. i’m so excited for tonight.”
“i know! how lucky we are to be able to be in hogwarts during the yule ball,” emily remarked as they headed out of their common room.
at the top of the staircase stood cedric diggory. he looked so good just standing there in his black dressing gown and neatly styled brown hair. he had his hands clasped together, looking around apprehensively.
emily nudged y/n, nodding at the boy’s direction. “go, i’ll see you later.”
y/n smiled before heading towards her best friend. she drew a deep breath, “hey, ced.”
enamoured, cedric’s smile grew and his previous anxious feeling melted away. he held his arms open for a hug which she instantly accepted. “you look enchanting.”
“are you flirting?” y/n teased.
cedric smirked. “i have been since fourth year, dummy.”
“oh, shut it,” y/n scoffed as they descended down to the great hall. the pair found their place among the other champions and their dates, waiting for the opening dance.
shortly, the large doors to the great hall swung open. it was beautiful, the white christmas theme making the castle even more wondrous.
“you good to go?” cedric asked. y/n nodded slightly, linking her arms with his as they entered the great hall.
y/n met fred’s and george’s eyes, flashing them a smirk and a wink. their mouths were wide open contrasting angelina’s wide grin.
the pair reached the middle of the hall. a slow song began to reverberate through the room, the world disappearing as cedric and y/n met each other's eyes.
all i know since yesterday is everything has changed.
#cedric diggory x reader#cedric diggory fluff#cedric diggory#harry potter imagines#best friends to lovers#Spotify
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bungou stray dogs fic recs (part 12)
i realized that like 80% of this rec is starred fics after i finished lmao. have fun with this one. it contains some of my absolute favorite soukoku fics.
other bsd fic recs here
personal favorites are starred, by the way.
everything is complete unless stated otherwise.
dazai osamu / nakahara chuuya (soukoku) fanfic recs
*the person you'd take a bullet for (is behind the trigger) by lunarumbra (~8k)
[Dazai leans back on his seat, crossing his arms behind his head. “I want to talk.”
“Talk?” Chuuya snorts. “I’d rather have you shoot me dead.”
“Glad to see we’re on the same page, Chuuya!”]
(Or: Nothing screams 'red flag' more than your husband pointing a gun right at your head. Chuuya really should have done a more thorough background check before getting married.)
one of my all-time favorite soukoku fics.
*i guess i'll be sticking with you by communist_sasuke (~14k)
[“Just how important is Chuuya-san to Dazai-san?” Atsushi found himself asking.
There was a pause, so long that he thought Akutagawa wasn’t even going to answer. Then, he finally responded.
“Chuuya-san is his partner.” Was all he said, as if it was answer enough.
Maybe it was.]
ada!soukoku.
*fermentation by setosdarkness (~6k)
Kitsune Dazai disguises himself so he can poison and assassinate Chuuya, the one who possesses the title of being ‘the strongest oni in the land’.
Love (?) over thousands of years ensues.
human error by lonelydoctors (~2k)
[“Dazai…?”
“Chuuya,” Dazai repeats, quieter, taken aback at the amount of fear in Chuuya's blue eyes and the deep purple bruises on his face he couldn’t see from afar. “That’s not a good look, Chibi,” he adds and forces a teasing tone, though it sounds fake even to his ears.]
***In the Bedroom Down the Hall by thebackwardsstep (~15k)
[Dazai and Chuuya have lost something incomprehensible.
It’s hard to pack the boxes.
It’s hard to accept that all they can do now is remember.]
trigger warning: read the tags of the fic please. there’s a few so i can’t really go into all of them here. so. this is a kid fic. it’s about grief/mourning. in case if that doesn’t tell you enough. it like absolutely broke me. the writing of the fic was god-tier. if you’re really trying to feel something, this is definitely the fic for you.
#bsd#bsd fanfic#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs fanfic#bsd chuuya#nakahara chuuya#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#soukoku#bsd soukoku
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focus, spence
spencer reid x reader
EEK! i’m excited for this one, turn it up!😫this is my first ever spencer reid fic, so i hope this is okay! i love criminal minds, and reid is baby so i thought why not?
this fic is spencer x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions, if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!
this fic has been proofread, but if i missed something just let me know!!!
a/n: this is probably the dirtiest fic i’ve written, so proceed with caution LMAO. cue the tik tok sound: i like to be fucked like a sluttt😁....okay i’m gonna stop now.
warnings: explicit language(most of my fics do contain language), sub!spencer, dom!reader, creampie(not explicitly detailed), overstimulation, oral(male receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it up!).
word count: 1.5k
summary: you come home to spencer eagerly describing how you should start a garden, yet you find yourself eager for something more.
spencer reid was, at times, the most complex person ever, but in this moment, he’d been dumbed down to soft moans and shaky words. “what happened to the book, spence?” you moaned as you continued to grind on his cock, “thought i told you to keep reading,”. spencer threw his head back at your words and at the pleasure he was receiving, lifting the book closer to his eyes, his glasses falling further down the bridge of his nose. you noted the light blush that had occupied his cheeks now that you were above him, and the way his mouth remained slightly agape, soft whimpers flowing out of it.
you had come home to spencer reading walden by henry david thoreau, and as he noticed your presence he began to ramble on about why you needed to start a mini-garden on your shared apartment terrace. though your heart did flips at his adorable eagerness, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering further.
the way his hands moved along with each of his words to fully enunciate them, your mind flicking to images of his fingers plunging in and out of you. his lips moving so quickly, tongue slipping out every once in a while due to the speed of his words, more dirty images flashing across your mind.
not being able to take it anymore, you pushed spencer down on to the couch, his ramble quickly coming to an end as he peered up at you, brown eyes wide and pupils dilated. “why don’t you tell me your plan for our garden while i ride your cock?” you rasped out, spencer visibly gulping at your sentence. “uh, um..” “spit it out spence,” “yes please! please...want it,” spencer whimpered.
you unbuckled spencer’s pants, tapping the side of his hip for him to lift up so that you could pull them down his legs. you began to palm spencer through his boxers, spencer letting out a soft moan at the sensation, “fuck, need it please!” spencer pleaded. you smiled up at him, reaching for the hem of his boxers, but before you could tap his hip for him to lift up, spencer’s hips were already raised off of the couch.
you grinned at that, peeling spencer’s boxers off of his legs, now facing his cock. it looked almost painful, how hard he was. you lightly circled your finger on the tip, spencer whimpering loudly. “grab the book spence,” you ordered. “huh?” spencer spoke, confused, but also slowly becoming lost in the slight pleasure you were giving him, truly trying to hold himself back from thrusting his hips up for more. “did i stutter,” you spoke sternly, looking up at spencer, moving your tongue down to the base of his cock to lick a stripe up his length.
spencer moaned, hands fumbling for the hard-covered book. “now why’d this book have you so set on starting a garden? you’ve got to provide some evidence, pretty boy,” you spoke, as your hand lightly jerked spencer’s cock. spencer racked his brain more than usual, his thoughts becoming hazy from the pleasure as he tried to recall what pages he had read. he flipped through the book as your mouth suckled on his tip, spencer moaning for a moment as he flipped to the page he had remembered. “th-this is the result of my experience in raising beans,” spencer began reading.
spencer groaned as your began to bob your mouth up and down his cock, pausing his reading for a moment as he moaned at the feeling. “fuck,” the word sounding so foreign coming out of spencer’s mouth, “loo-look so pretty,” he groaned, and instead of voicing out a response calling him the pretty one, you began to suck more eagerly at the compliment. you tapped his thigh to signal for him to keep reading as he moaned, picking the book back up.
“but abo-above all,” spencer’s words were shakier than before, his breaths becoming more shallow, “harvest as early as-shit!..possible,” spencer couldn’t contain it anymore, moans falling out of his lips with ease, as he attempted to thrust into your mouth. “fuck! fuck! i’m gonna cum please,” spencer moaned. you jerked your hand quicker at his words, focusing your tongue on the tip of his cock, as spencer’s whimpers grew in volume, and finally, with a loud moan, his cum flooded your throat.
you jerked his cock leisurely until you felt you had fully milked him for all he was worth, pulling away and sticking out your tongue to show him the cum you held in your mouth. spencer groaned at the sight as you swallowed his cum, not enjoying the taste, but not hating it either. “fuck that was so good,” spencer said softly.
“who said we were done?” you grinned at spencer, as his mouth fell agape, “but-but i can’t,” “sure you can spence, look your cock is still hard, that’s an issue we’re gonna have to solve yeah?” “but i-i just came, i don’t know if i can- it’s not,” you cut him off, your hand turning his face so that his eyes met yours.
“let’s pause for a moment, yeah?” you spoke softly, pausing the scene you had dived into. “if you really don’t think you can, tell me. i won’t be mad. and if at any moment you can’t take anymore, tell me and i’ll stop like this-” you snapped. “but if you think you can be a good boy, and take one more, tell me.” you rubbed your thumb against his hot cheek as he looked at you so innocently.
“i-i can take it,” he whispered. “are you sure, i’m okay either way, i want this to be good for you,” you smiled at him. “i want it. ple-please i need it,” spencer whimpered.
you grinned at him, pulling his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. “god, such a good boy,” you spoke, your words fluttering as you lowered your entrance down onto his cock. spencer’s moans were louder than before, his facial expressions so lewd at the incomprehensible pleasure he was receiving. “oh my! fuck!” he moaned as you began to grind on his cock.
“what happened to the book, spence?” you moaned as you continued to grind on his cock, “thought i told you to keep reading,”. spencer threw his head back at your words and at the pleasure he was receiving, lifting the book closer to his eyes, his glasses falling further down the bridge of his nose. you noted the light blush that had occupied his cheeks now that you were above him, and the way his mouth remained slightly agape, soft whimpers flowing out of it.
not even a second later, spencer’s hand fell back down onto the couch, the book along with it. “fuck i-i can’t read anymore! just need- just need to cum!”, groans and moans flying from spencer’s mouth. “yeah? gonna be a good boy and cum for me? god i’m so close spence,” you spoke. spencer took your words as initiative, his hands flying to your hips as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. your own moans growing in volume as you locked onto spencer’s lips, tongues slotting against the other’s.
“fuck i’m gonna cum spence!” “please cum, please!” spencer begged, not sure how much longer he could hold on. your walls convulsed at spencer’s words, the wave of your orgasm washing over you as you creamed all over spencer’s cock. spencer moaned “ah! ah! ah!” in succession, each moan growing louder until he came, the warmth spreading inside of your walls, “fuck!” spencer all but screamed.
you both sat, spencer’s cock still inside of you, your head resting on his shoulder. “so we should definitely start a garden,” you smiled at him. spencer’s smile genuine at your words, his expression soft as he recovered from the two orgasms he had. “let me go get you some water,” you spoke softly as you lifted yourself off of his spencer’s cock, wincing at the slight burn.
you walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet, pouring water from the tap into the cup, as his cum began to slowly leak down your legs. “here you go,” you spoke softly as you sat down next to spencer who was still trying to steady his breathing. you rubbed his chest softly, comforting him as he drank his water. “let’s get you in the bath yeah?” spencer nodded as you grabbed his hand leading him to the bathroom.
you turned on the bath water, grabbing a lavender bath bomb from under your sink cabinet. you sat the bath bomb on the side of the tub, walking over the toilet to go through your after-sex routine.
there you sat in the bath, spencer in between your legs as you traced your fingernails across his shoulder blades. “so what do you wanna grow first? i was thinking bell peppers,” spencer turned around, smiling up at you as he nodded enthusiastically.
fin
i hope you guys enjoyed! this is my first spencer reid x reader fic, so i hope it’s okay! i just planted a few shrubs and vegetables myself so i felt this was fitting. i appreciate all the love on my previous fics, thank you guys so much! drink some water, remind yourself that you are enough and you are worthy.
thank you for reading, have a good day!
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid filth#sub!spencer#sub!spencer reid#dom!reader
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⚡️ tis me, lightning bolt fiend, here to second that my love for she ra and catradora has only increased since I discovered your fics (may 2021). realistically yeah maybe we’re a dwindling fandom but idk a single hoe here who doesn’t recognize you as the authority on all things she ra fic. Not going anywhere 😎
hey its Still The Episode, so this might be a bit rambley and incomprehensible, but its what i've got so lets go. also i know im piggybacking off this. im aware this is about to become a tangent.
first off: thank you <3 also for your other sweet message awhile ago i didnt respond to because i was nonverbal
second: fandom doesn't and shouldn't have authorities, thats a daaaaangerous rabbithole. wouldn't want it to be me and we're all just here to have fun. i happen to be a pretty prolific author who's dug into metacanon some, but thats it. not trying to come down on you, ⚡️, just don't want to leave no disclaimer here and make it seem like i'm agreeing i do/should have authority on anything, unless by authority you just mean prolific producer, which like, im sure is what you're going for even if that's not what the phrasing implies, hence the disclaimer
thiiiiird, because this was spawned from a comment i made because of the ao3 thing, ive done more research into that when my brain was a little more solid earlier in the day, before it became the soup it is now. particularly this article, this reblog, this reblog, this reblog, and then this random shitty "article" that confirmed the 2019 cutoff date from the prev reblog (which was uncited), led me to conclude that it's probably fine to unlock my fics. my understanding is sudowrites is built off of GPT-3, which was trained off public access works and a web crawl which cut off in 2019. GPT-3 was a product of OpenAI. also there's some kind of "dont scrape this" flag the web crawl is Supposed to respect, and a discord comment says they already use that on the archive, but take that with a grain of salt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
the reddit investigation reaaaaaally makes it seem like it was trained off fanfic as one of its datasets, i dont know how the hell you get those results if not, but its probably from stuff caught up in that webcrawl, which wasn't necessarily even from AO3, and it well and truly seems too late on that. i locked temporarily in case they were still actively scouring and not yet done getting everything off the archive, meaning some of my work conceivably hadn't been caught yet and could be "saved", but it looks like they stopped scouring before i started posting for she-ra LOL
also some people seem to be encountering a bug where fics that hadn't updated in years were pushed to the tops of their bookmarks as recently updated and they think that's related to this?? as far i know only a new chapter would change the publication date. i go back and edit my typos all the time: they remaind locked by the date the most recent chapter was initially posted. idk where people got that from.
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One Early Morning in Os Alta
Nikolai accidentally drinks one of David's experiments and becomes obsessed with solving the mystery that is Zoya Nazyalensky. The Triumvirate is his most unwilling audience as he attempts to piece together where she goes at night with nothing but his caffeine-fueled brain and a chalkboard.
Written for the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! Thank you so much to the amazing @kolarpem (x) and @denndrawings (x) who created beautiful art for this fic 🥺 ❤️
ao3
In their three short years of marriage, Genya and David had developed a morning routine. David, eager to get to the labs early so he could have the room to himself, would wake at the crack of dawn like clockwork and share a few sleepy kisses with her before getting on his way. After a few more hours of much-needed beauty sleep, Genya would commandeer some breakfast and find him tinkering away at whatever project Nikolai had put him to. It was a comfortable rhythm, a familiar constant in their otherwise hectic lives.
But today, Genya was just drifting off to sleep again after being woken by her husband when the door to their bedroom slammed open to reveal a very disheveled David. His glasses were slightly more askew than usual and his kefta rumpled. Genya let out a small yawn.
“David? What’s wrong?”
“There has been a development.” He didn’t elaborate further as he strode over to their wardrobe and pulled out her kefta. She tugged it over her head without question and followed him sleepily out of the room. They’d been together long enough that she’d learned not to try to get him to elaborate. He’d either clam up for hours trying to find the right words or talk in circles trying to fully explain a very easily explainable situation. Only the Saints knew what it was this time. She just hoped it was something easily resolvable so she could go back to sleep. Perhaps a puppy running loose in the labs, or an Inferni who’d burned off their eyebrows and wanted her to Tailor them back. Simple things.
But instead of the labs, David pulled her into Nikolai’s bedroom and Genya knew it was going to be a long day. Tamar and Tolya were already seated on a sofa, both with their arms crossed and similar scowls on their faces. Zoya was absent. And Nikolai was animatedly scribbling on a large blackboard that had been wheeled to the front of the room, “ZOYA NAZYALENSKY” scrawled at the top in large letters and circled three times for emphasis. The rest of the board was covered in near incomprehensible writing and doodles.
Genya frowned as David pulled her down into the seat next to him. “Did you steal that from the Little Palace, Nikolai? How will the children learn?”
Her king didn’t answer. He seemed busy working on a doodle of what looked like a five legged tiger on a corner of the board. David patted her hand absentmindedly as he opened his notebook and started scribbling as well.
“Is anyone going to explain this to me?” Genya asked mildly as Tolya slid a cup of tea towards her. She supposed the Triumvirate had seen worse, and their king acting like a man possessed didn’t rank particularly high on their list, but she still didn’t appreciate being woken up early for this. If anything, the twins should have just knocked him out and then everyone could get their well deserved rest.
Tamar crossed her arms. Her short hair stuck up in every direction as if she’d just rolled out of bed. “Well, your genius husband over there,” she starts, her tone not quite complimentary, “was working on one of his little experiments again.”
Genya nodded distractedly as she removed a small mirror from the inside of her sleeve. David took it from her obediently and held it up as she began Tailoring away the dark circles under her eyes. It wasn’t a substitute for her lost sleep, but it’d have to do for now.
“Coffee with a mild strain of parem in it for an extra stimulant,” David explained as she moved on to bringing more color into her cheeks. “Since you’re always complaining about the Little Palace’s coffee leaving you groggier than before.”
Genya’s hands stilled as she offered David a small smile. Even after knowing him for this long, his kindness never failed to surprise her. “That’s lovely, dear. But how does that relate to Nikolai acting like...this?”
Both of them jumped when Nikolai let out a rather concerning cackle. He had moved on from the deformed tiger to a caricature of someone who looked alarmingly like General Pensky. Genya scanned the board, barely able to decipher his scribbling. Secret lover...treason...illicit rendezvous? She furrowed her brows.
Tolya glowered at them from his spot next to his sister. “Nikolai drank David’s experiment. And now he refuses to administer the antidote because he wants to observe his behavior for the sake of science.”
“That’s not strictly true,” David said as he handed the mirror back to Genya and picked up his pencil again. “I don’t have an antidote ready. Instead of taking the time and labor to manufacture one, we might as well just wait for it to wear off naturally.”
Tolya opened his mouth again to argue, but then a piece of chalk flew by, barely missing Genya’s nose. Nikolai slammed his hands on the table and her tea splashed out of its cup.
All four of their heads turned towards their king. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair wild, and a distinctly unhinged look in his eyes. His jacket was tied around his shoulders like a cape. It had to be the worst Genya has ever seen him, though there had been that time when Kirigin had convinced him to do a few shots of that whiskey from the Wandering Isles and he’d been convinced he was a saint—
“Friends!” His voice was entirely too loud for the intimate setting. “I have gathered you here today to solve one of our most pressing problems.”
“Our empty coffers?” Genya asked with a yawn.
“Impending war on three fronts?” offered Tolya.
“My brother’s incurable love for five hour poetry recitations?”
David continued silently taking notes in his book.
“No,” Nikolai declared with an empathetic shake of his head, “we’re here to discuss the mystery of...Zoya Nazyalensky.”
He stepped to the side and for the first time, Genya was able to see the entirety of the blackboard he’d been writing on. Not a single inch of it had been spared from his rather enthusiastic scrawl and doodles like he was preparing to give them the world’s most fascinating lecture on the enigma that was Zoya. Genya felt a headache incoming.
“Perhaps we could do this at a more reasonable hour,” she began, but Nikolai smacked his hand against the blackboard which sent up a giant cloud of chalk dust.
“Nonsense! There’s no time like the present, and Zoya is away so it’s the perfect time to speculate upon her true intentions.” He waved his arm towards a bullet point at the top of the board, but in his eagerness, nearly knocked the entire board over. Genya let out another yawn and sank back into the couch. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she dozed off.
“Where does she go at night?” Nikolai demanded as he began pacing furiously. The papers pinned to the board fluttered in his wake. “About once a week or so, the palace guards tell me she’s seen walking on the grounds late at night, alone. She’s almost certainly meeting with someone. But who? And why?”
“Are you sure you don’t have an antidote?” she whispered to David.
“Positive.” He scratched his ear, a sure sign he was lying. Genya sighed. She supposed she’d have him make it up to her later. She knew better than to talk him out of one of science moods.
“A lover!” Nikolai continued. “She has a secret lover!”
Genya knew for a fact Zoya had no one in her heart other than their king as much as she liked pretending she hated him and his entire existence. In her own opinion, it probably had something to do with the very expensive gifts Nikolai routinely offered because Zoya was nothing if not a creature of luxury. Still, she took a sip of her tea and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do go on.”
“At first I thought it was General Pensky, but he’s been stationed at the border for over a month and the night walks haven’t stopped. So that leaves no other option than…” Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. He executed a sloppy about-face that any army commander would have had him running laps for and pointed an accusing finger at Tolya. “You’re Zoya’s secret lover!”
Tolya frowned and crossed his arms. “I would rather go back to Novyi Zem and become a jurda farmer. Less chance of sudden death.”
Nikolai grabbed at his hair. “But if you’re not seeing Zoya...and Tamar isn’t– you’re not right?”
“I’m married, Nikolai.”
“Right, right, right,” he muttered. He turned back to look at his board. “Then there’s only one other answer.”
“We all go back to bed?” Genya suggested.
Nikolai turned to her, an oddly intense look in his eyes. “How could you suggest we all retire when Zoya is plotting against the throne?”
Genya blinked. “How exactly did you get there?”
“It all makes sense!” Nikolai babbled excitedly. He waved his arms in excitement. “The late night walks. The secrecy. Why she’s always so mean to me—”
“She’s mean to everyone,” Tamar interjected.
“She’s working with the Fjerdans! Or the Shu! Of course, I should have seen it from the start…”
Genya tuned him out again as he went back to drawing on the board while muttering to himself about how the Fjerdan’s diabolical plan to have Zoya seduce him was working too well. She put her head on David’s shoulder and focused on the page of notes he was working on. Except instead of notes, it was a sketch of a woman’s face. Her face. As she watched, his pencil scratched out the curve of her lips, one corner lifted in a half smile. “What are you doing, dear?”
“Studying something beautiful,” he answered without a moment of hesitation.
Genya’s lips curled into a smile as she let her eyes shut. “You’re sweet today. Maybe we should let Nikolai poison himself more often.”
“There’s a seventy percent chance his heart would give out if we attempted this more than once a week.”
“Regicide,” Genya said with a sigh, “How romantic.”
#gvbb21#gvbbminibang21#gang 21#check out the art os and misha are so talented 🥺🥺#kos#king of scars#kos writing#david#genya#denya#zoya#nikolai#zoyalai#tolya#tamar#grishaverse#leigh bardugo#my writing#i love them <3
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hi! Welcome !! can i have some nsfw hc with dom! fem! reader and a sub! Keito plss 🥺🥺
intimacy.
[ keito hasumi / afab! reader ]
[ notes: NSFW under cut !! reader has a strap-on and loves to tease, keito is shy, this is a non-yandere fic ]
You frowned at the sight of Keito hunched over his desk, frustratedly filling out paperwork. He had been working far too hard lately, and frankly, he deserved a break. And you knew just how to do that.
“Darling,” you purred, placing your hands on his shoulders. “I’ve been quite lonely lately… won’t you take a break, and pay some attention to me?”
Keito turned slightly pink. “A-ahem… these papers are very important, so I must finish them as soon as possible.” He averted his eyes from you, obviously embarrassed.
“Oh, but what matters more? The papers… or me?” You bit back a smirk and Keito looked at a loss for words.
“W-well, you… you’re my… my lover, so…obviously you’re more important…” He shifted in his seat. It was quite clear, to you at least, that he was getting… riled up. Despite him never admitting it, he actually quite liked it when you teased him like this. When you verbally pinned him down, making him unable to say anything but yes… he loved that.
“So… why don’t we take a short break? I’ll make sure you can relax.” You smiled coyly, squeezing his shoulder.
“Ah… alright, then, I suppose it couldn’t hurt…” Keito replied faintly. In truth, he was putty in your hands. You could do whatever you liked to him…
You started massaging his shoulders, making sure to hit all his sensitive spots. He let out small whines and moans in return, almost like a reward for your expert massaging skills.
“Ah… you don’t have to…” Keito gulped. He feared if this went on for much longer, he might really lose it.
“Oh, but I do. Take the hint, dear.” You sighed. This had gone on for far too long, this back and forth. “Keito. I want to fuck.”
“Language!” He admonished, face red. “I- I mean! I’m not against it, but…” he looked back at the papers littering his desk. You two were in his dorm room, on a… would one call it a date? It was mostly you lazing around on his bed, as he worked on papers. Hajime and Hokuto were out doing… idol work, you assumed. You weren’t really paying attention.
“Is that a yes, or a no?” You we’re getting slightly irritated. Of course, if he didn’t want to have sex, you would leave it alone, but he really had to make up his mind.
“Yes! It’s a yes.” Keito blurted out.
“Good.” You nodded. Now that you had explicit consent, you could go through with what you were planning. You walked back over to Keito’s bed, where your bag was. You reached into it, and pulled out… a strap-on.
Keito’s eyes went wide behind his glasses, as he stammered out “Did… did you have that this whole time?”
“Of course I did.” You went over and patted him on his green hair. “I’ve been planning this from the start, you know.”
Keito sputtered incomprehensibly at that. Really, for someone so smart, he was hopeless when it came to intimacy. You always took the lead when it came to this, and that didn’t change for this time as well.
“Lay down on the bed.” Your voice took on an authoritative tone, making Keito shuffle over to said bed, trying (and failing) to hide his hard-on.
You clambered on top of him, and started to trail your fingers down his chest.
“Ah… wait, you…”
“Darling.” You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you. “Please. Shut up.” You were impatient with him at this point, tired of all his hesitation. “Yes or no. Answer me.”
“Yes.” Keito whispered. “I.. I want this.”
Satisfied, you sat up and grabbed your strap-on. You put it on, and faced your boyfriend. “Strip for me, dear?”
Keito nodded, staring at your plastic dick. It was… large, larger than he was used to. You could already see him getting harder at the sight.
Keito hurriedly threw his clothes off, and obediently laid down on the bed. “Um… what now?”
“You’ll see.” You hummed, lazily stroking his dick.
“Hng- um, please- please go faster…” he stuttered. He was so adorably shy when it came to this, really. It made you want to just eat him up.
You grabbed his hips, making him gasp, and flipped him over on his stomach. You leaned down, and whispered in his ear. “Stick out your ass for me, would you?”
Keito squeaked at your lewd words, but did it anyways. He was sweating, whether from arousal or nervousness, you couldn’t tell. You pulled out a container of lube from your bag, and put some on your fingers. You slowly inserted a finger into his hole, making him twitch and whine.
“Ah, you- you can … you can put more in…”
“Hmm… don’t be too greedy, now.” You tutted disapprovingly. Nevertheless, you did insert another finger in, thrusting them in and out.
“H-hah… wait, I’m going to—“ cum spurted out his dick, splattering across the bed sheets.
“Really, cumming from just that?” You shook your head. “Keito, dear, you’re really reminding me of a whore right now.”
“I’m - I’m not a whore…” Keito groaned, drool slipping out of his mouth. He licked his lips, and said, “We can go further… if you so wish.”
“Oh? Even if your roommates could walk in at any second, could see you being fucked by me?”
Keito looked away, dick twitching at the thought. “Of… of course not… they still won’t be back for a few hours at least…” he denied.
“But they could still return early.” You leaned in close to his face. “Or… someone could walk by, and hear your slutty moans…”
“They… you…” Keito was speechless.
You laughed. “Okay, that’s enough teasing.” You lifted your hips up to his ass, strap-on brushing against his exposed hole, making him tense up. You slowly pushed yourself in, causing a high moan to come out of him.
“O-ohh…” Keito clutched at the sheets, eyes blown open wide. “That… oh, god…”
You thrusted slowly, teasing him further.
“F-faster,” he gasped. “Please!”
He wanted you to go faster? Fine, you would go faster. You snapped your hips back and forth, as quickly as you could go. Keito came almost immediately, but that didn’t stop you. You kept going, his moans and whimpers spurring you on.
He could barely form words at this point, his eyes glazed over. “M…more… hah…”
you didn’t stop until he was nearly passed out from pleasure, and cum coated the bed under him.
Keito collapsed, legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of his skull.
You pulled out, and stretched. All that fucking had made you sore, so you couldn’t imagine how Keito felt. You kissed him on the cheek, helping him stand up so you could change the bedsheets.
Something told you the two of you would be doing this a lot more often.
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I Wanna Be Around (You!)
a john paul jones x fem!oc fic (in progress)
summary: Good roommates, friends, companions. Everything about Isabel and John is incomprehensible. Gloriously backwards. And it’s all been leading up to this.
“I’m not doing you a favor. It’s what you do. When you love someone.”
pt. i - preshow
pt. ii - curtain
pt. iii - afterparty (coming soon)
masterlist | ko-fi
notes: fluff, slight nsfw, family drama
a/n: 🎉 Happy, happy new year! I hope you all rang in the new year with STYLE and glitter and a sparkling sort of a drink. May your year be filled with joy, adventure, music, and a little bit of healthy trouble 😉 also a very happy, belated birthday to @kyunisixx, love you Miss Kenny 😘
part ii - curtain
“You are magnificent.”
To North Carolina, to California, to Tennessee, to Italy, to Norway, to here at the O2, she has not left his side if she can help it. She hasn’t missed a show. She collects teaspoons from every destination like her grandmother used to. She works so sparingly she may as well call it a hobby now.
If being his companion is her job, she has accepted it proudly. Her friends sometimes call her loony but can’t seem to find reasons she should stop.
Watching him out there, she could almost cry. She’s so happy. She knows he can’t see her, she’s so far away and the lights are so bright. It’s probably for the best because she’s smiling, beaming like a madwoman, clutching her hands under her chin. It’s better this way; one time he caught her eye while he was playing somewhere and almost lost his place. Made him “nervous”, not knowing she was watching, but seeing that she was watching. And she would hate to interrupt him tonight, of all nights.
John is obviously in the zone, in the pocket always. He isn’t thinking about who’s here and who’s not, but his bones know and that’s a whole other layer of confidence. All the people that matter are here. All of them. They do not flinch from him, regardless of what he’s done, regardless of what’s been broken. He spent a lot of time hating himself for that until Mo said that was pathetic and he needed to get over himself, so he did.
Tonight, he does not need to get over himself. He is the main event (okay, they are) and everyone can see that and everyone honors that, lauds it. The din of the crowd is astounding for each and every number, up until the very, very end.
Damn, he’s missed it. Missed playing with these sods, for better or worse. Misses Bonz, but Jason’s a formidable legacy. As they carry the glory off the stage in the form of sweat dripping from every pore (especially Jimmy, god love him), John’s heart tightens. He forgot what it was like to have this throbbing kind of adrenaline, the kind that makes you do idiotic, regrettable things.
However, he is older now. He is not filled with loose and ill-defined desire. His head is clear. He doesn’t need someone. He’s got to find Isabel. His hands need to be full of her. He needs to let her know how much he wants her.
It should not be understated that John has wanted Isabel. For a long time and in all the ways; the want has progressed into a collar-tightening need.
Their first few trips, it was arranged for Isabel to have separate quarters but she quickly became disgruntled with this. “When I have to say goodnight and then you go down the hall I feel like we’re pretending,” Isabel said, limply draped on the doorframe. “Like Pretty Woman without the sex.”
John wasn’t sure how to respond, swallowed, tried not to look at how her nipples were teasing at her shirt.
“Are we pretending, John?”
John let out a nervous laugh. “No, of course not.”
“Then let me sleep with you.”
He refused. Abjectly, but not without apology. “It’s everything to do with me,” he said, trying to catch her eyes. “Really, nothing to do with you at all.”
This was so very contrary to what John actually felt. He wanted to, so desperately, sleep next to her. Just sleep. Didn’t have to be anything else but her pulse sending ripples through the mattress beside him. And he would have said yesyesyes if not for the small detail of his children.
The girls were, understandably, bewildered by the divorce, their loving, well-rooted parents deciding to unroot. John knew that he had to broach the topic of his budding relationship tenderly, calmly, efficiently. Over afternoon tea. Mo even said she would join to do damage control. He thought that would be his boon. He did not account for the fact Mo was such a conscientious mother that she had tried to prepare the girls ahead of time to receive the news.
John had not walked into a room full of such sour faces since the 70s. They all already knew and were expecting him to grovel which he had gotten used to, being the only man in a house full of girls. And he did with mastery, apologetic and soft, trying hard to explain the nuances of his relationship with Isabel. “I wasn’t looking for it, it just snuck up on me. On both of us.”
“How old is she?”
John cleared his throat in preparation to answer, but one of the girls headed him off at the pass, drolly. The way her father would. “Why does it matter? Wouldn’t be the first time he was interested in someone our age.”
Needless to say, the conversation didn’t end well. If raising strong women wasn’t the biggest blessing and the biggest hex, John wasn’t certain what was. It was inevitable they would understand his fallibility at some point; he just never expected them to be so brutal about it.
Isabel noticed something was off when John came home that night while she was making an impromptu batch of ginger biscuits. When she offered him a nick of the dough, John said no. She was shocked. He usually couldn’t keep his hands out of the bowl before her baking was finished.
“You’re fattening me up like you’re the witch,” John played off easily. “I’m afraid you’re going to eat me.”
It was subtle, but Isabel noticed. She had gained the awareness that comes with wanting to know a person entirely. Something was off. But she couldn’t get it out of him and eventually, it slipped into the background.
Until he refused her wish to sleep with him. Isabel tried to smile and laugh it off, waving him away without a kiss goodnight. But she was so very embarrassed her whole body flushed and stayed flushed the rest of the night as she stared into the mirror and accounted for everything wrong with her face and her body. Too many freckles, too many gray hairs masquerading in her light blonde hair, breasts just a little too small to be tempting, etcetera, etcetera.
These thoughts used to be much louder and nastier. She had worked so hard to tame the intense waves of self-loathing that accompanied every meeting with her divorce lawyer. It was hard to feel worthy of being wanted after her ex-husband had abused the fidelity of their marriage with a string of physical affairs with women she perceived as younger and more beautiful than herself.
By morning, she hated herself so much she could barely speak which made breakfast with John quite tenuous. John tended not to pry or push (another thing he had learned from living with women) but it was impossible to ignore the distance in her eyes. “What is it, Is? What’s wrong?”
Isabel looked at him with watering eyes. “Do you not want me?”
“What?”
“Just…” she swallowed and started folding a sugar packet back and forth in her fingers. “I can’t stay if you don’t want me.”
John felt panicked but tried desperately not to show it. “Of course, I want you.”
“Then, why don’t you– it’s your right, you know. To not want to sleep with me,” Isabel went on in a tight voice meant to hold back the rush of tears in her eyes. “But I just want to understand why.”
John was quiet enough she could hear the saliva moving in his mouth as he bit down on the inside of his lip.
“Because if I’m just– if I’m just here to make you feel not alone, if that’s all this will ever be, then–“
“No, no, no, that isn’t–“ John let out a deep sigh and took hold of her hand. “That isn’t it at all. Please, trust me.”
But from the look in her eye, John could tell that for all the trust she wanted to give him, she couldn’t. So, he told her the truth. The girls had gotten to him. Isabel wasn’t totally surprised. Her own friends had been floored that she was seeing a man with children after vehemently refusing a setup with a handsome and wealthy single father who was eager to meet her.
“He has children.”
“Grown children. That’s different.”
“Yes. It’s worse.”
Apparently, it was. They had minds of their own. They could be scathing and retributive, as children tend to be as they understand the faults of their fathers. They harbored huge, deep-seated opinions, the kinds that made their father question the closeness he had with a woman.
“And…” John added, “You’re so beautiful and I’m so…old.”
Isabel laughed. The exact thing she had been questioning in the mirror should have been the furthest thing from her mind. “So?”
“You might get tired of me. You could have someone your own age, someone you don’t have to lug around..”
She tsked, shaking her head. “You lug me around John! I’m in Tennessee for God’s sake.”
He smiled shyly. “That’s not lugging, you’re doing me a favor.”
Isabel suddenly got very serious, words smaller and more important as she spoke them. “I’m not doing you a favor. It’s what you do. When you love someone.”
They were both quiet a moment, sitting in the word they knew so well and loved to say (love, love, love!).
“You know what else people in love do, John?”
John had no idea what she was going to say, just felt his cock jump in his trousers.
Isabel grabbed her napkin, balled it up, and tossed it at John across the table. “They sleep with each other!”
In spite of the warm thrall between his legs, John started to laugh.
“What?!”
“We may be the only two people in the world who have had a conversation like this where the word sleep was meant literally.”
John and Isabel shared a bed that night, yes, in the literal sense. Distant at first. Opposite sides of a king bed like it was an accident. By morning, there was an amount of reaching rarely seen in people their age, a kind of puppy love: hands threading together and middles curving toward the center of the bed.
She promised. That it would be slow. She’s kept that promise ever since, even though she wants him. She has kept that promise even after a bottle of wide-legged red wine on the Italian coast in the thick of summer where she tried to convince herself that the wetness between her legs was just sweat. She resisted.
There are nights where they do not sleep together and there are nights when they do. The nights when they do are so very careful and soft. She doesn’t understand how she has so much restraint. The longer she spends with him, the need for him increases. To smell him in the morning, her face just at the zenith of his back or to feel his hand brush through her hair in the middle of the night…Isabel is shocked she hasn’t gone completely feral already. She worries if she did, it would be too intense for him.
Tonight, though, he is also intense. Isabel can see it in the way he’s carrying himself and being egged on by the crowd, by his bandmates. She can see how it would be easy to feel like a god among men. John seems to tower over the crowd and he’s so fucking joyful about it.
The wanting is turning to needing.
By the end of the concert, Isabel’s entire body is aching from standing for so long, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as the encore is finished, she tears off back the way she came. The backstage is alit with celebration. If she can just find the green room, get his attention for one moment before he’s swept into the inevitable marathon evening ahead of them, she can plant the need.
Jogged this way and that through the crowd, she is overwhelmed.
“You’re looking so lost.”
Isabel stops and turns. It’s Robert with his poodling curls, peeking out from behind a heavy metal door. She smiles. “Congratulations. You must be so proud.”
He shrugs plainly and then says, “He went that way. Looking for you.”
“Of course, he did,” she mutters. “Thank you, then. And again, that was –“
“Thank you,” he says with a nod and a sort of solemn smile before slinking off down the hall.
Isabel follows Robert’s guidance, wanders back through the throng, but stops suddenly. Perhaps she should just wait in one spot like a child lost in the grocery store instead of trying to chase him down. Or maybe she should go toward the stage door again and just linger. Or maybe she should find the rest of the guests and–
She doesn’t have time to make a decision before she ends up running smack into someone.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry!”
“Sorry, I–“
In an unsurprising serendipity, it’s John. Their eyes meet, Isabel grabs onto his elbows and she bursts into laughter. “John!”
“There you are, darling. I’ve been looking for you. They said you weren’t in the audience and I– ”
“Don’t worry, I saw. I snuck – I was off to the side. I wanted– ”
“Of course, you did. Of course! You…” John breathes in through his teeth, grinning ear to ear, “You iconoclast.”
She wants to ravish him with kisses, but something much more powerful overtakes her and suddenly there are tears running down her face. “You are magnificent.”
John’s smile falls as he sees how her face splits into weeping. He has to shelve his hot hunger for now. He cups her face in his hands delicately. “Your mascara, Is.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was going to cry,” she says, attempting to choke back her tears, but they keep coming. She’s so proud of him. She isn’t sure whether she deserves to be. After all the grueling rehearsals where he came home completely bereft of energy and laid his head on her belly, worrying aloud about everything, unaware of how she watched him and admired him with every inch of her soul.
His long, plodding thumbs wipe inky tears from under her eyes. “Did you enjoy it?”
She nods aggressively.
“Good.”
“Did you?”
“Not a bit of fun, couldn’t you tell?”
Isabel laughs. She pulls herself into him and kisses him long on the lips. Hard. A kiss with words behind it that John thinks he hears but he isn’t sure, so he reflexively pulls back and gives her a bashful kiss to her cheek to finish off the moment.
Perfectly timed too, as Mo, the girls, and their children appear as if out of thin air (Isabel notes she should stop calling his daughters “girls” given how she’s in the same generation as them). She greets them all politely with kisses to the cheek and falls back to let them fawn over the man of the hour. He beams unlike any of the times she has seen him swarmed by artists backstage or at afterparties, receiving hugs and big sloppy kisses from the children (a grandfather…). It’s a completely different feeling, to have the ones he loves so proud of him.
“Overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Isabel looks to Mo who has fallen into the place beside her, giving space for John to be with his daughters. She likes Mo and Mo likes her (or at least, that’s what John has said, and she’ll choose to trust him for her own sanity at this point). “Oh, god, did you see my mascara? How embarrassing.”
Mo laughs, “No, no, dear.”
Mo is so kind. Has always been kind since Isabel met her for dinner, just the two of them. This was at Mo’s request which John tried to put off until Mo put her foot down. “If you don’t introduce me, I’m going to show up without telling you and meet her myself.”
Isabel was excited. Terrified, but excited. Mo insisted it just be the two of them, “No johns allowed” and Isabel was eager to get some insight on her companion.
“Maybe Mo and I will fall in love and run away together. That’d be a real shock, hm?” she teased, dinking one of the buttons on John’s shirt with her finger before she kissed him goodbye (and he kissed her once extra because that comment made him unnecessarily nervous).
And Mo and Isabel did sort of fall in love. They just got on. Mo wasn’t skeptical and Isabel wasn’t defensive and while their common ground was John, there was a clear desire to make life easy for each other, regardless of how comfortable or uncomfortable the circumstances.
“I love her,” Isabel said right when she tipsily walked in the door that night. “She’s funny. And she’s nice.”
“Yes,” John grinned as he stroked Candide in his lap. “I think so too. Did you have fun?”
“Loads. Loads and loads,” she replied, plopping down on the ottoman across from John’s chair.
He chuckled, “She got you drunk, didn’t she?”
“She drank too.”
“But she wasn’t drunk was she?”
Isabel frowned petulantly and tipped her head to the side. “I’m not drunk, John.”
“Alright.”
“I’m not!”
“I said alright!”
Isabel twisted her lips together, not satisfied that he believed her. But she was quickly distracted by another thought. “I see it. I understand the two of you, it makes a lot of sense. You talk the same.”
John was overwhelmed with a bittersweet nudge in his chest. “That’s what happens when you spend a lot of time together, I think.”
She frowned, “Maybe.”
“I mean a lot of time together. Over 30 years, you know. Most of your life.”
Isabel’s eyes went wide and glassy. “That is a lot of time.”
John drew one of his hands away from Candide (who marked her frustration with a “meow” and pushed her head into his stomach needily) and held it out to Isabel’s chin. She easily pushed her jaw into his hand and rested there, looking up into his elemental blue eyes. “It’s different. Me and her. And you and me. Are totally different.”
Isabel nodded into his hand and kissed the ridge of his thumb. The weight of her head bowed her forward onto the arm of his chair accompanied by a long, sweetly tired sigh.
“Oh, you’re so tired, aren’t you?” John asked, slinking his fingers through her hair.
Isabel let him do this for a bit, enjoying the tickling edge of his nails seeking fresh skin on her scalp until an uneasy feeling crept into her gut. “Oh no…”
“What?”
“She warned me about this.”
“Warned you about – “
Isabel shot up. “She warned me about you! And your sweet nothings and your fingers in the hair and the….ooooo…” she said through a maniacal giggle before getting to her feet. “You’re naughty.”
John gaped. “I haven’t said one sweet nothing. Not one.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.” Isabel narrowed her eyes and pointed at him. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I would hope so.”
Isabel gasped with a wide grin, “See? Naughty.”
John watched Isabel as she stumbled out of the room and upstairs, repeating “naughty, naughty, naughty” to herself as she went and, later, found her in his room passed out on top of the sheets still in her evening clothes.
He was happy to hear Isabel had a nice time and even happier to hear Mo echo the sentiment on the phone the next day. “I love her. Where did you find her again?”
“Christie’s. I’m sure she could set you up with an auctioneer if you were interested.”
“Oh, no, please don’t. Meeting someone is the last thing I need,” she scuttled off.
“Say, what did you warn her about?”
Mo hesitated on the end of the phone. “Well, I warned her of a lot of things, John, be more specific.”
“Never mind,” he grumbled. Whatever it was would be buried in several bad habits he didn’t need reminding of.
Mo laughed lightly in the shift of the conversation. “I want her to meet the girls. You can host.”
“Me?” John asked with umbrage.
“Yes, I want to see what she’s done with the place.”
Isabel anxiously and eagerly planned a Sunday afternoon fete. John tried to assist but was cast out of the kitchen and relegated to lint rolling the furniture for any errant cat hair. Her perfectionism would have been charming if he wasn’t an absolute wreck about the whole thing. Consequently, the days leading up to Isabel’s meeting with the girls were tense, filled with curt words and cold shoulders.
Exactly 2pm that Sunday, John found Isabel standing before the mirror in the front hall, tugging at a wrinkle in her blouse. She huffed at her inability to get rid of it.
“You look lovely.”
“I need to change my shirt, it’s –“
John chuckled, “No, you don’t.”
“It’s –“
“No one will notice a little wrinkle. Now…” John said firmly and went over to her, tucking his hand around the back of her collar and unfurling it. “There.” He drew his eyes up to their reflection; beside one another, the age showed. Obviously. He was pleased that he had managed to escape a lot of the bad habits of his youth, but no one could escape time. Standing over her shoulder, she could pass for his daughter. Maybe the girls were right to be disdainful.
John’s eyes found Isabel’s and he noticed the smile on her face. Isabel nestled herself into his arm. “I think we look nice together,” she said quietly.
He smiled back and the question of their belonging together melted away. “We’d look nicer if your blouse wasn’t wrinkled, but –”
Isabel’s eyes widened. “You said it wasn’t noticeable!”
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he said with smoothness, wrapping his arm around her front. “Poorly timed.”
She sighed, “Indeed.”
Here like this, in the mirror, close as ever for their relationship thus far, looking perfectly entangled and together, John decided that everything would be just fine.
Not long after, Mo and the girls arrived and everything was pleasant in an antsy way, everyone wringing their hands and overexplaining themselves. The girls all regarded Isabel with skeptical eyes, but lacked any of the spitfire vim they would have with their father behind closed doors. Eventually, the mood was light enough that Mo baited John out of the room to leave the four girls alone under the guise of clearing some dishes.
Isabel watched them go with her hands pressed between her knees, John giving her an apologetic look on the way out.
“You’re a brilliant baker, Isabel,” one of them called her attention.
She looked back to the girls lined up on the couch opposite her. John’s daughters reminded her of the three fates, holding her future in her hands, this very meeting being the thread of her life they could decide to cut short if they like. She swallowed, “Thank you.”
“Good thing too, dad was getting so skinny,” another piped, picking at her nails.
Before Isabel could respond, the last spoke, leaning in and looking over toward the door to the kitchen. “Can I ask you something?”
“Please.”
“Dad calls you his ‘companion’.”
Isabel noticed the other two were shifting uneasily in their seats. “Yes…” she said carefully.
“What’s that mean?” she asked.
Isabel’s heart swelled. She had never put it into words, what that meant. It always just felt right from the moment John had said it himself. She knew it created a sort of mystery to their relationship, but that wasn’t why. “Boyfriend/girlfriend” was so juvenile and “partner” was so established. “Well, from the very beginning, John and I were good company to one another. Just friends, really,” she said slowly, unspinning the notion not just for them but for herself as well. “And I think with where each of us were…are in our lives it made the most sense to call each other something that truly represents who we are to one another.”
There were other things Isabel wanted to say: that she felt dedicated to John in such a pure and full way, that the only way to describe that was “companion”. That she was proud of that moniker in a way that nothing else seemed to encapsulate. And that there was nothing beyond that connection that tethered her to him. Money, prestige, nothing like that. Isabel refrained from sharing this so as to not make the girls cringe or wince.
“I don’t take my position in his life lightly,” Isabel said with finality.
She was not sure if that answered their question. By the time the afternoon was over, she felt at least reassured that the girls tolerated her as they genuinely thanked her for her hospitality.
As soon as Isabel shut the door behind them, John quietly asked, “How do you think that went?”
Isabel turned back to him and, without words, tripped into his arms. She pushed her face into his neck, found a patch of skin made for her lips, and lingered there for a long time. “You were right,” she replied.
John hummed in relief. “About?”
“No one noticed my blouse was wrinkled, I don’t think.”
He laughed, deep from his gut. “I usually am right about those sorts of things.”
Isabel has noticed that. John is right about those sorts of things. He was right that this night would be overwhelming and right that the performance would be good. He was also right that Mo would take care of her if she needed because she was “used to the oddness” and how couldn’t she be?
“Best of luck at the after party,” Mo says lowly in Isabel’s ear.
“You won’t be joining us?”
“Heaven’s no,” she says with a flick of her curls. “I’ve enough of those to last a lifetime.”
Isabel doesn’t know that Mo knows. Mo knows that John and Isabel still haven’t slept together. He hasn’t told her, but she knows. John doesn’t need to say a word for her to pick up on his undercurrent of anxiety. He is devoted to Isabel, he is in love with Isabel, and he is terrified of her. It must have to do with their discrepancy in age, which Mo has to laugh at. She knew him when he was young and bursting with cockiness (and yes, that is a double entendre) which was often to his detriment. There is a part of her that would love to have the perspective Isabel has, to meet him now in a fresh way. Although, she has to concede that when you’ve known someone as long as she’s known John, you are constantly meeting them. Again and again, as they change and grow and as you change and grow, you are reintroducing yourselves. And then you get reacquainted. And then you change again. Mo and John have been getting reacquainted even now, as a man who is not her husband, a man falling in love with another woman. The entire process of divorce has been wistful this way, but she’s grateful that after all these years, she can stand by him and wish for his happiness. They must have done right by each other that way.
“Alright!” Mo announces to the throng of family members, mobilizing them the way only a grandmother can. “Let’s say our goodbyes and get out of here, I’m exhausted.” Her motive is less innocent. She knows the feelings of post-performance gumption, the heave of desire. She’ll leave them to it. And with a kiss on the cheek for both John and Isabel, she’s off.
John and Isabel, alone again, exchange a glance. It’s all been such a flurry. And the last thing either of them had really known was that kiss full of unspoken words.
She narrows her eyes on him, trying to read his mind. “What?”
John’s got too many things on his mind to even begin. He shakes it off and gives her a smile as his eyes descend to the solitaire diamond necklace sitting right against her sternum, right at the place her chest begins to swell delicately into her breasts. “Come on,” John says quietly and reaches for her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
They’ve never been very good at picking up where they’ve left off. Every time there’s an inkling of sexual tension, they somehow manage to sabotage it. They’ve come close though. Once, maybe twice, but once for sure.
Autumn was wet. John was occupied, so utterly, with this reunion. They were in talks, in meetings, early rehearsals and he was worn out with excitement. Isabel noticed a shift in him as he returned to the band. In his hands. Perhaps it was the bass guitar which he played sparingly at gigs and never gravitated toward in his practice. Or the anticipation of the gig. The music. Something. He grabbed her differently. A little lower and tighter. Almost like he wanted to make an imprint.
And then it was every kiss, lips on lips. Longer, firmer. Left her more and more wanting every time he left in the morning.
But he was tense. On edge. Quick to complain. “They’re the exact fucking same, it’s just Jimmy who’s eating out of Robert’s hand now,” he grumbled one evening, sprawled out on an Eames lounge chair in the studio eating coconut macaroons Isabel had made tenderly. “Somewhat comforting and disconcerting that things never change.”
Isabel sat at his feet on the edge of the ottoman, focused on the inlays in the neck of a mandolin through her thick lensed glasses “You don’t think you’ve changed?” she asked.
John paused. It wouldn’t be entirely fair to say no. After all, his life looked a hell of a lot different. And compared to Jimmy and Robert, he was the one who was changing all the time. But at his core? “I don’t know. At least we still play the same,” he went on and smirked. “Hurts more, but…”
“Those shoes. With the heels,” she said, looking down her nose at him from behind the spectacles.
“They’re not heels.”
“Bad for your back,” Isabel mumbled under breath.
He sighed, “What do you want me to say? I’m old. I’m an old man. Everything’s bad for my back.”
Isabel took off the glasses and returned the mandolin to its case. He was sensitive about getting older, as anyone was, even more sensitive when she brought it up. “How are they?” she asked, nodding toward his plate of macaroons which was only crumbs now, save one lonely macaroon.
John reached for the last one. “Disgusting, what did you put in them?” he said cheekily and polished it off in two bites. Without a napkin, he opted to wipe his fingers on his plaid shirt, right against his ribs.
“See? You’re the oldest child I know,” Isabel tutted. “Shirt as a napkin. Goodness.”
“It is convenient and saves on laundry, so.”
Isabel shook her head and poked him in the belly, eliciting a blushing laugh from John. A maddening old man, but he kept her smiling, that much was certain.
John took her wrist, drew her hand up to his mouth, and placed a firm kiss to the base of her palm. Soft, so soft. His lips always so soft. She smiled. “You need to relax some, John.”
“I’m trying, love, I’m trying,” he replied and shut his eyes.
She placed her hand against his cheek, admired closely all the rivets of skin, traced a few of them with her thumb. “Can I get you anything? Some water? The heating pad?”
John shook his head slowly and drew her in further.
“Oh, I see,” she chuckled, folding herself up against his chest, letting his arms thread around her.
They are always playing with fire like this. Close, so close. Because it is comfortable and because it is safe. Neither of them had ever dared interrupt the closeness with need and desire.
But this moment, when they were laid out on the lounge like this, tucked into each other’s corners, something shifted. It might have been Isabel who, feeling so warm and safe in his arms, tipped things over the edge by tilting her head further into his neck so she could press a row of wanton kisses to his skin. It might have been John and his widespread hand, gripping into the soft part where her waist turned into her hip. Whatever it was, the shift was indiscernible and gradual. Moment to moment to moment, until their innocent embrace turned primal. Needy, hungry kissing, breath heaving at every chance.
It had been so long since John had been caught in a bind like this, a woman on top of him, breasts to his chest. John tentatively slid his hand lower so his fingers could grip her ass; Isabel let out a longing breath to match him and he soared. To feel her like this, purposefully, was a dream. Not accidentally in the bed or bumping into one another while cleaning the kitchen. Hand on her hip wanting nothing more than to yank her across his lap and feel her grind against him.
He didn’t have to pull her, though. She did it on her own accord, breaking away and straddling. John whimpered despite himself, making Isabel falter. He linked his hands tighter around her. “No, no, it’s –“
“Too much.”
“No, it’s…” John breathed heavily and shut his eyes. “A long time, Is. Been a long time.”
Isabel tentatively began to rut her hips against his, riding the ridge of his thick cock through his trousers. A long time for her, too. And she had resisted so long. The trembling sensation was already starting at her center. “Is this alright?” she asked.
John slipped his hands up around her lower back. “Yes, more than.” He knew he’d be sensitive when the time came, but he didn’t realize he’d feel like he could vomit. Words eluded him completely, the image of her riding him so intoxicating. All that came out was a pitiful groan.
Isabel watched him, how his head was already starting to tip back, lips blushing, neck straining. “I’ll take care of you,” she whispered, coasting on a wave of arousal that was begging to crash. “All you have to do is relax.”
“Oh god,” John choked out, almost more in pain than pleasure.
“And I’ll go slow…” she promised. She slackened her pulsing hips, took hold of his hands, and pushed them up under her shirt so he could touch her bare ribs.
“Is…”
Isabel chewed on her lower lip, taking stock of the way his eyes were lingering right where his hands met her body. She took his hands in hers, spread his palms out and slid them beneath the hem of her shirt. John practically felt an electric shock at the bare skin of her belly, which only intensified as she coaxed his hands up to her breasts. He had never felt her nakedness. Never seen it either, but feeling was better. He pinched her nipples between her fingers and Isabel let out a whimper in response. He really could vomit or cum, that’s how strong the feeling was. Her tits filled his hands just enough, just right. Beautiful Isabel. Too beautiful.
John focused his eyes right on the diamond necklace that undulated at her sternum as she pulsed against him. Hypnotic, steadying, until Isabel’s hand landed on his crotch. “Can I?”
Could she? He didn’t know the answer. God, he wanted her, wanted to be inside her, wanted to cum deep into her so that she’d finally be his in every way a person could be. He couldn’t shake the feeling of upheaval inside him, not sure if it would manifest as release or retching.
To Isabel, his silence was an answer. She drew her hand away and paused her motion. “It’s alright. We don’t have to yet.”
Fuck. He’d missed his chance. There was no recovering here. John awkwardly withdrew his hands from her shirt and clasped them up by his chest. “I want to. I promise I do.”
Isabel sighed. She had to believe him. She had to. For her sanity, for his pride. That’s not all their relationship was hinging on, anyway. But she didn’t get his hesitancy, especially when she was straddled across him, ready to give him everything. All of it. “I know,” she said with a smile and crisp nod. She cupped his chin in her ever-careful hand, leaning down so he could feel the words pillowing from her lips. “You know where to find me, when you’re ready.”
With those last words, Isabel gave him a small kiss on the forehead and left the studio to get ready for bed.
John laid there, staring up at the ceiling, still throbbing on the cusp of release. He undid his trousers and slipped his hand around his cock and came in 10 seconds flat to the rushing memory of Isabel splayed across his lap.
They didn’t speak of it. Not the next day, not any day after that. For some reason, their tripping in and out of intimacy was almost impossible to mention, embarrassing to allude to. There wasn’t time to dwell on it between intense concert preparation and life being life, always something to tend to, whether it be errands or spot cleaning the carpet.
Isabel is thinking about it now, though, as John guides her through what is left of the backstage pandemonium. It’s hard to believe they made it to this day, harder that the concert is already over and done with, relegated to hiccups of memory. It’s been on their minds since June (on John’s even longer if he accounts for all the time he spent seething over Plant and Page’s nonsense). If their life together was a four-burner stove, the Led Zeppelin reunion was a stockpot always bubbling at the back. And now that it’s ended, they have a whole burner free.
John leads her out of the arena toward a black car with tinted windows. It’s the way he handles her, that tenderness, as he opens the car door and ushers her through with a hand on the small of her back. Isabel pauses before getting in, turns to look at him.
“What is it?” he asks with a pinch of concern between his eyebrows.
She smiles. John looks relaxed. He’s got a swagger about him, just in the way he’s standing with his elbow perched on the open car door. So at ease. “Nothing,” she murmurs. “Just get in the car.”
While they’ve got the burner free, she’s going to make good use of it. Not with another pot or pan. No, she’s going to turn it on, let the gas run free, and set a match.
She’s going to set the whole goddamn kitchen ablaze.
tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @calico-skiess, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @edal-weis, @ritacaroline, @kyunisixx, @salixfragilis, @rogerfuckintaylor, @rebel-without-a-zeppelin, @jimmypages, @ledwallet, @dollyvandal, @cassiana-it, @faisonsunreve (always open for additions💋)
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