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fairy-angel222 · 2 months

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𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’

—OFFICER! TOJI F. x F! READER

᧔♡᧓ in which your officer boyfriend catches you at a party that you lied about going to

᧔♡᧓ content: rough smut, age gap (reader is in college), angry sex, jealous sex, possessive toji, handcuffs, breeding, choking, hair pulling, ass/tit/pussy slapping, praise, degradation, daddy kink here and there, begging, orgasm denial, passing out, pussy eating, semi-public sex, sex in police car

᧔♡᧓ requested by @valleydoli 💗

᧔♡᧓ wc: 3.1k

Toji couldn’t fight the annoyance on his face as he pulled up into the small neighborhood. Loud music blaring through the air as colorful lights beamed onto the dimly lit street. There had been a number of complaints. The neighborhood’s residents ringing 9-1-1 one after the other.

To say he didn’t care was an understatement. Out of the whole department Gojo Satoru just had to dispatch him to break up a stupid college party. His police vehicle came to a stop a little down the block, the tall man stepping out with stonic features and a sigh as he made his way closer to the source of vulgar tunes which seemed to shake surrounding houses.

Toji stalked up to the front door, the smell of hard alcohol and weed hitting his nose as he banged on the door. Forceful enough for the sound to ring throughout the noisy inside. A drunk boy no older than 19 swinging the door open with a grin. “Hey man! O-oh shit. Hey officer, what can i do for you?” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard under Toji’s harsh gaze as he tried his hardest to appear sober.

Toji peered over the boy and into the room. Sweaty bodies grinding against each other while others made out, almost every hand nursing a plastic red cup. “Do me a favor and just keep the noise down alright, if not shut this whole damn thing down.. what the fuck.” The officer spat bitterly, jaw clenching with a scowl when his eyes landed on someone. His someone.

You.

He couldn’t believe it. You had been so persistent on spending the night at home. Claiming that you had piles on piles of work to complete. Did you crave attention that badly? One measly night he had to work overtime and this was the shit you pulled? Clad in a lacy dress which had a deep v cut and barely reached your mid thigh. Your body, his girl’s body, on display for everyone to see.

He could see the eyes roaming your figure top through bottom. His blood boiling as he visibly seethed, shoving past the lanky teenage boy to make his way over to you. You were grinning happily, one hand in your hair and the other ghosting over the hand that rested on your hip. Giving the girl behind you the dance of her life.

The music lowered, Toji’s eyes twitching at all the loud gasps that echoed through the room. All eyes on his large frame as he towered over everyone in the room. Muscles bulging through his tight shirt with each hard step that he took. All eyes but yours. You were too into what you were doing, and your boyfriend couldn’t help his rising anger as he got closer and closer. Spotting familiar brunette and green hair sat on a couch with their lips on each other’s.

Of course. You were dragged here.

You giggled loudly, taking a swig from the girl’s cup and letting the bitter tasting liquid scrape at the walls of your throat when you swallowed. Your friends’ eyes widened as they pulled away from each other, desperately trying to get your attention as you swayed your hips. Those hips that only Toji was allowed to see move.

A hand grabbed the flesh of your arm tightly, your head whipping around to snap at the stranger before your brows furrowed. Taking in that broad chest that you’d gotten to know by heart. Your eyes timidly trailed upwards, a small whimper caught in your throat when they met his darkened ones. The man’s head tilting to the side as if daring you to not comply. He would not hesitate to get you out of there over his shoulder if he had to.

“T-toji.. h-hi i-“ you stuttered, looking down at your feet as you shuffled nervously. Eyes darting to the girls who eyed you apologetically.

“Shut up.” His voice was firm, and your thighs clenched as you held back another whimper. You could feel everyone’s eyes boring into you. “Fuck. You know what? Everybody out.” His voice raised at the end. The bustling college teens wasting no time before they scattered, afraid at just the mere sight of the man. “And you.. oh you’re in for it now.”

All the alcohol seemed to leave your system when Toji pulled your arms behind your back. Cuffing your hands as your face heated up in embarrassment. “T-toji w-wait.” The man ignored you as he pulled you out of the room, not caring about how you stumbled over your own two feet to keep up with his large strides.

“She really disobeyed you this time huh?” A familiar voice rung out, a teasing smirk on Gojo’s face as he walked up the few stairs that you’d just descended from. “Good job Y/n.” He winked, a deep chuckle leaving his throat as he thought back to exactly why he had sent Toji out here.

It didn’t take long to reach the vehicle with the speed you were being pulled at. Toji’s hold on your arm never loosening in the slightest. “Get in.” Toji spoke meanly, holding the door open with a gesture for you to get inside.

“But-“

“Get the fuck in Y/n.” He never called you by your name often, only when he was mad. It was always some sweet petname that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. Sliding into the vehicle you kept your head low, the door slamming behind you not too long after.

You squirmed in your seat. Giving into the tension filled silence as you watched his grip on the wheel tighten until his knuckles were pale. Thoughts of you letting any other man touch you coursing in his mind.

Toji undid the first two buttons of his shirt, using his fingers to prod the tight fabric open as he rolled his neck. Taking the pair of handcuffs off his suited pants before rolling the vehicle to a stop.

“Toji ��m sorry.” You mumbled almost shyly, face getting hot as your arousal dampened your lace panties.

He ignored you. Taking a step out of the car and into the night’s darkness. The vacant road scarce of any sources of light. Your door swung open, eyes widening in a doe-like pout as you looked up at him.

“Don’t. Not after that shit you just pulled.” He warned, expression still hard as you climbed out, the slam of the door making you jump with a yelp. A small whine left your throat as you were flipped around, chest pressed into the vehicle’s side with your hands still bound behind your back.

He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist with a scoff. “Going out dressed like you want to get laid. Am i not enough for you baby?” His fingers found their way to your clad folds. Brushing over your clit with a hum. “Do i not fuck you enough? Is that little pussy so desperate to be filled?” He didn’t give to a chance to answer, his palm landing heavily on your pussy making you jerk with a cry. “Look at that. She’s all wet f’me. Such a greedy fucking cunt yeah?”

You whimpered loudly, Toji’s voice deep and husky in your ear as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.

“I shouldn’t even be touching you.” He whispered venomously, voice laced with clear disappointment as he pushed his fingers past the thin fabric, pressing the pad of his middle finger onto your clit before rubbing small circles. Watching the way your lips parted in sweet noises as you let your eyes flutter shut. “Should just drop you home and leave you all desperate and needy.”

That made you whine with the shake of your head, pushing your ass back onto his crotch in want. “Or will you just call someone to come fuck you like a little slut?” You cringed at the sound of your panties tearing, Toji’s muscles straining against the confines of his shirt’s fabric as he rolled up his sleeves. Quickly working to free his hard cock before pushing you into the back seat of the car with a smirk. Handling your body until you were face down, with your ass up on display for him.

“Look at yourself.” He forced your head up to gaze at your reflection in the window. “Gonna fucking destroy you baby. Do you want that?”

You nodded, eyes prickling with tears as you clenched in anticipation. You wanted his cock so bad. “Ahh f-fuck.” Another slap to your ass.

“So you do have a mouth.”

Words. He wanted to hear you say it.

“P-please fuck me daddy.”

“You can do better than that princess.”

“Please. Please fuck me. Need you so bad. ‘M aching f’ you. Want you to fill me up.” You begged.

“That’s it. That’s my slutty girl.” You mewled loudly at the intrusion of Toji’s thick cock. The man bottoming out inside you with one quick thrust making your knees buckle underneath you while your back arched. Feeling Toji’s fat tip immediately prodding at the increased tightness near your cervix.

“Shit.” He cursed, breathing getting heavy as he nestled his cock within your warm walls. Forgetting just how much he loved that little cunt of yours.

He started off rough, forcing his cock deep as you rocked harshly against the soft seat. Loud moans dripping off the tip of your tongue as his cocked kissed meanly at your g spot.

Your pussy stretched to accommodate the quick thrusts of his girthy length. Feeling his veins scraping deliciously against your gummy walls as he hammered into you.

You cried out when Toji’s hand found its way around your throat, pulling you up to his chest with your hands flush between your back and his chest. Drool filled babbles spilling messily onto your skin at the force of his hips.

“Haah— T-toji f-fuck,” you keened loudly, your chest riding and falling rapidly as your brain turned to mush. Unable to think of anything but how good he felt inside of you. Lewd squelches mixed with skin slapping burning its way into your brain. A constant reminder of Toji’s abuse to your sensitive cunt as your vision blurred.

“That’s it baby. Take it real nice n’ deep. You’re practically swallowing me in right now.” He breathed. Hand tightening around your throat as the other travelled down to your chest, barely having to tug at the black fabric for your tits to spill into his large hand. Rough fingers twisting at your pert nipples as he palmed the soft flesh.

“Ahh— so good. Feels s’ good daddy.” You cried, Toji’s hand landing two consecutive slaps onto your breasts.

“Gonna stuff this pussy real full. Breed her with my cum till you know your place.” He growled lowly, his frustration seeming to reemerge as he stroked his cock with your tightness. Allowing himself to poke at every corner of your warmth, ruining your slutty pussy to your tears.

“Wanna go out dressed like you’re available. Single. Like you don’t have me taking care of that ache between your legs every single night.” His pace quickened with every word. Snapping his hips up mercilessly till his balls reddened your puffy clit, mouth hung open in whiny mewls as your stomach tightened.

Your tears flowed freely as you were shoved back into the car’s seat. Your mind dizzy at the plowing of his cock into your sweet spot. Toji’s hand moving to grip at the delicate flesh of your hip with other torturing your clit. Rubbing mean, hard circles onto the swollen bud.

“Tojii— ‘m gonna, ahh- ‘m gonna cum.” You whimpered, catching sight of the traces of mascara staining your cheeks alongside your messy hair. The sight being enough to make you call out his name incoherently as your eyes rolled back. Legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—“ you chanted, letting out a broken scream as you squirted messily. Completely drenching Toji’s cock in your wetness.

Toji’s movements stilled, his fingers digging into your hair with a sharp tug upwards. “Oh i’m sorry? Did i say you could cum baby?”

“Sorry, nngh- c-couldn’t hold it.” You hiccuped, knowing that you were in trouble.

Toji shook his head, pulling you back so you lay flat across the seat. Shoving one of your legs up beside your body with a grunt. A shiver raking through your body as the cool air breezed through your sopping pussy.

You let out a groan, your attempt to close your legs stopped by Toji’s strong hands shoving them apart. Groping at both sides of your ass before his palms made contact with the skin. A bubbly whine catching in your throat when you tightened around nothing.

Toji sunk to his knees on the ground outside, the forest to his back as he began pressing soft kisses to the sides of your thighs, his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit.

He groaned, grip tightening on your thighs when his tongue darted out once more to lap at your sweetness. Sloppily running between your folds before swirling around your clit. It didn’t take long to get you where he wanted you. The overstimulation going straight to your foggy brain as Toji got lost in your heat. His eyes fluttering shut with a hum as he tried to pull you impossible further onto his tongue. Your constantly flowing slick mixed with his saliva dripping sloppily onto the ground below.

Your fingers clawed at nothing as you began to tremble, crying out loudly as your eyes closed shut. Your tear stained cheek pressed into the seat as you drooled adorably. A smirk adorning Toji’s face when he curled his thick fingers into you.

“Ahh— ‘s too muchh. Gonna cum again.” You mewled desperately, toes curling as another coil tightened in your stomach. Toji stopped sucking at your clit, pulling away from you while his fingers sped up. Paddy tips poking directly into your spot with ease. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?”

You answered with a high pitched moan and a small “uh huh”, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge before it all came crumbling down. Toji removing his fingers before standing up, and only then did you notice how much of his chest was on display. He leaned down to kiss away your tears, brushing away any hair stuck to your forehead. “Only good girls get these privileges baby, i’m a cop, you should know this.” He cooed.

His cock prodded at your hole, sinking into his rightful place deep within your warmth before beginning to fuck into you. He knew your orgasm had barely just died down, and he was going to fuck you to another just to leave you hungry.

Your boyfriend’s head found its place in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your ear before he grinned against your skin. “You won’t be leaving the house for days when i’m done with you.” He promised, tone gruff as he felt his cock twitch in indication of his own high.

“Haah— ‘s so muchh.” You breathed as you melted into him, his touch hot on your skin leaving short quivers in its wake. “Toji— o-oh fuckk.” You were sputtering out strangled noises of pleasure, Toji’s husky groans in your ear adding fuel to the fire as you let out a cry. Your pussy gushing onto him before your orgasm could even hit.

Toji cursed loudly, his grip on your hips allowing him to pull you back onto him as roughly as he was slamming into you. “That’s it baby, pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight.”

“‘M so close— so so close.” You gasped, basking in the small skin to skin contact of your hands on his exposed chest.

“Gotta fucking earn it. Tell me, who do you belong to princess. Who owns this slutty little pussy hmm? Who fucks you this good every night?” He questioned darkly, rolling his hips in a way he knew would drive you crazy.

“Y-you. You do. ‘S all y-yours— fuck. Please can i cum? Need to cum so bad.” You almost sobbed, Toji kissing your cheek sweetly with a breathy moan. “All mine. All fucking mine. Go ahead slutty girl. Cum f’ me.”

You let go noisily, vision clouded as your moans spilled uncontrollably past your lips. The burning sensation in your stomach slowly easing as you allowed yourself to let go. Making a mess on the man’s cock while he worked himself deeper inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could before pumping you full with a contented sigh.

“Let everyone know that you’re taken. Get you pregnant with my kid and keep you locked away. Only for me.” His cum painting your walls in hot spurts as his abs tensed. The throb of his cock slowly dulling as you milked him dry.

You whimpered, feeling the thick substance slowly seep out of you when he pulled out. All the alcohol finally catching up to you as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Letting your eyes blink shut before you went limp in his arms.

Toji groaned with a stretch, smirking down at you and your fucked out form.

So pretty.

He tugged down your dress and tucked himself back into his pants. Removing your hand cuffs before taking you into his arms gently. Laying you down more comfortably with a quick kiss to your forehead. Watching as your chest rose and fell softly, face contorted into a peaceful one despite how stained it was from your tears.

He slipped into the driver’s seat, allowing the car to reach the perfect temperature for you to rest it. Finally pulling off from the side of the road. He laughed shortly when he checked the time, contemplating whether he should even bother going back to work. He’d much rather stay home with you.

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw the name written across the screen. Satoru.

“Hello.”

“So, fucked her good didn’t ya? Made your girl cry huh Fushiguro.” The white haired man laughed into the call. Gojo had been tempted to say it over the radio, but he didn’t know if you’d be awake or not.

“That’s why you sent me out there isn’t it?” Toji scoffed, one hand on the steering wheel turning it into your apartment complex while the other worked the gear. If you were awake you’d be going crazy. Him driving was one of your many weaknesses.

“Yes, and you’re welcome. Tell her i said hi when she gets up. Bye Fushiguro~” The call beeped to an end and Toji shook his head, trying to hide the small smile creeping up onto his face. Fucking Satoru.

Glancing back at you he allowed himself to openly smile, he could never stay mad at you. It was time to show you that.

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reiderwriter · 4 months

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♡ Forever Only ♡

Week 3 of my Playlist series

Summary: You thought you wouldn't see him again, at least for a while, but Spencer Reid finds you, and he has questions.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni. Penetrative sex, voyeurism, fingering, multiple orgasms, semi-protected sex, creampie, almost breeding kink, like if you squint, slight angst, dom!Spencer Reid.

A/N: First smut of the series! This one is based on one of my top songs of 2023, everyone say thank you, Jaehyun, for releasing the closest K-pop is ever going to get to 00s R&B. I hope you all enjoy it 🥰

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Of all the places you'd been where you thought of Spencer Reid and your paths crossing again, you never expected it to actually happen here.

The club was lit so low, so you didn't really expect it to be him, your ex-something, not quite boyfriend, far from nothing, situationship maybe? But there he was.

Not just him, but all of them. The BAU, minus their bosses, were all dancing and drinking at various points around the club, having fun but still being vigilant.

You're surprised you notice him before he notices you, but you're not surprised that it doesn't take him much longer.

You're not exactly here to blend in with the crowd.

The low-cut dress with the lower-cut bust line is already getting as much attention as you'd expected it would, and that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer as he finally drags his eyes over to the commotion you've made in the corner.

“I don't know you,” you tried to politely explain to the creep who'd blocked you in with one arm. “I'm just waiting for my friend, please leave me alone.”

“Let's have some fun, baby, you, me, that body you're hiding under those scraps of fabric. I'll make you scream, I promise.”

You'd scoffed the first few times he'd made similar remarks, but he was tenacious, and he didn't understand the word “no,” and was vaguely unfamiliar with “leave,” “me,” and “alone” too.

You'd scanned the room for a friendly face and had locked eyes with the man you'd been waiting six months to meet again. Perfect timing.

Of course, he'd picked up on your discomfort and walked your way, and of course, he'd bought back-up.

“Y/N, you should've sent me a text when you got here!” Emily Prentiss expertly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a hug, as the man was forced to let you move.

“Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked,” you mumbled, still feeling the weight of the creeps gaze on you despite your newly inherited guard dogs.

“Come on over to the table, baby girl, we got bottle service. I'm going big tonight.” You tried to thank Morgan as well, but the smile you sent him didn't reach your eyes as you consciously avoided Spencer's gaze.

“You know these people, babe?” The stranger from behind you put a hand on your waist as he pulled you back a step, leaving you stumbling wide eyed until your back was to his chest, shoulders unconsciously rounding into a protective stance as you tried to shrug hum off.

“For the last time, let go of me. I don't know you, and I don't want to know you. This is your last warning.” You rounded on the man, turned your back to the other three agents, and tried to calm your thoughts to see his next reaction.

“Stuck-up bitch, I said you're coming home with me tonight.”

You made sure his last attempt to grab you was his last attempt to grab any woman as you flipped him onto his back, your fellow agents behind you pulling their guns and handcuffs to helpfully lead him out of his hunting grounds.

You'd hadn't wanted to see Spencer Reid again so soon, and you certainly hadn't wanted to enlist the entire teams help on a serial rape case, but it wasn't your final decision to make.

And honestly, you'd been glad for the help in the take down, with your office so understaffed.

After reading the creep his rights, seizing the date rape drug he'd planned to slip into your drink later that night, and the knives and rope in his card that he was planning to also use on you, you were just thankful that you had all the help you could get.

Now that you were back at the station at 4am, with nothing but aching muscles from handing the nearly 200 lbs man his ass to him on a platters and aching feet from doing it in heels, you wanted nothing else than for the last week to erase itself.

Six months absence from the BAU wasn't long enough to fall out of love with Spencer Reid, and you never thought it would be.

A year was all the time it had taken to fall head over heels for the man, and you'd assumed you could reverse that in the same time, so you'd left.

It wasn't a leave of absence but a strategic departure to a task force in Rapid City, where rape numbers were spiking. You were still doing your job, that was the important part.

You changed into your comfortable clothes in the locker room and grabbed your bag, ready to head out for the night, picking up your keys to head home. You only got two steps out of the room when you ran into him.

“Early start?” He joked, looking at you again with that hesitant half-smile he'd worn the entire week he'd been here.

“Late night.” You replied. It had been a joke you'd developed after so many unusual shifts, so many 3am run-ins where neither of you could find the effort to make actual polite conversation so you'd said the two sentences and sat in amicable silence, often rested against each other as you let exhaustion carry you through the night.

“Can we talk? We're leaving in the morning, and I…” he struggled to find the words, jaw clenching and releasing the way it always did when he couldn't put his emotions into words just yet.

“Sure. But not here. My apartment is a five minute drive.” He nodded and followed you out of the building as you primed your heart to shatter into pieces again.

The drive home was quiet and peaceful, too late for natural traffic, and too early for the morning commute to begin. You made it home in record time and led him inside the apartment you'd chosen.

You flipped the light switch and kept you back to him while you completed your daily routine, trying your best to ignore that he was standing in your doorway. You tried not to be curious about what he could tell about you from the doorway, what the lack of decoration meant, how different it was from that cosy box room three blocks from his apartment, how cold it seemed instead.

So you kept your eyes off him to not have to answer the questions he'd likely have.

“So what did you want to talk about, Spence?” You almost cursed yourself for how easily the nickname slipped from your tongue. You'd heard JJ call him that a few times your first week in the office and assumed it was something everyone used for him. The way he flushed red when you said it the first time was engraved in your head, those first heavy beats of your heart alerting you to oncoming danger.

You grabbed two bottles of water from your fridge and walked back to your living room, where he was still stood taking things in.

“Spencer?” You asked again, holding out the bottle.

He took it with a small smile of thanks, and you led him over to the sofa, urging him to talk again.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“You… you didn't say goodbye.”

You knew this was coming, but you hoped he wouldn't have the courage to ask you the questions you knew were about to arrive at your door.

“I'm coming back in six months, Spencer. I didn't say goodbye because it wasn't going to be goodbye.” You'd turned this excuse over in your brain enough to know it was a weak argument, but you hoped your friendly smile would reassure him.

“You didn't tell anyone you were leaving until you were gone. That hurt a lot.”

“I didn't want to hurt you. Everything was just so fast. I had to take the offer immediately, or they would've moved onto someone else. You understand, right, Spencer?” He sat back, resigned, and nodded again slightly.

But a silence built up as he stared at you, and your hands got all sweaty the way they always did when he paid attention to you. You couldn't just stare everywhere else until he broke the silence again.

“How is Rachel? I haven't heard from her in a while.” You blurted the words under the weight of his gaze.

And you knew you'd said too much in those two sentences.

You'd first introduced Spencer to your college roommate after you realised you were in love with him. You'd spent a year at the BAU, and you thought he felt the same way, too.

You hadn't said anything, but you ate together at his apartment weekly, and you went on outings - dates, you'd thought they were dates - to museums and movies. He'd slept over at your house once, and you'd never felt happier than waking up with his arms wrapped around you.

So, of course, you'd taken him along to a party your friend from college was throwing. You'd nearly introduced him as your boyfriend, and looking back, you were glad Rachel had cut you off before you could.

“Is this the famous Spencer Reid? You're cuter than I thought you'd be.” You saw the flirtatious spark in her eyes, heard her tone, and felt uncomfortable.

You felt even worse when she took his hand and led him off to introduce him to more of your friends without a glance back at you.

For the first hour, you were worried about him, knowing that he never did great in social settings. You contented yourself by catching up with old friends, nursing a glass of wine, and trying not to follow him around the room with your eyes.

You'd given up and sat miserably in the corner for the next hour before you'd decided you wanted to leave. This time you'd had to track him down.

It wasn't that you'd found him in any compromising situation. He was just sat on the couch, smiling and talking to her. But when you said you wanted to go home, and he'd agreed to drive you back, she'd grabbed his hand.

“So Tuesday, 8 pm, right? It's a date." He nodded and said his goodbyes, and you wiped all of the emotion off your face so you didn't break down right there.

He talked to you as he drove back, but you could only nod and hum in response.

You shrugged off his concern as you walked into your apartment alone and let your heart break.

You were in Rapid City the next week.

“Your friend from college? I'm….I'm not sure.” He looked genuinely confused down at you as your lungs capsized in on themselves.

“Oh, right.” You nodded again and forced out a yawn, desperate to get rid of him before he could climb back into your heart again and roost there.

“You didn't keep in touch with her after you moved?”

“We had… a disagreement.” It was a kind way to put what had happened. You'd sent her one text asking her what all of that was at her party, and she'd sent you a paragraph back the day of her date with Spencer calling you pathetic and lonely and jealous. And then she'd blocked your number.

“That sucks. She seemed nice.” You couldn't help but scoff at his words, completely forgetting your plan to ask him to leave. Of course, he thought Rachel was nice. He'd been half in love with her by the end of that party.

“What was that for?” He asked, the words spilling out quickly as his eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing. It's late, Spencer.”

“I don't think it was nothing. Why are you asking me about your friend? Why would I know?” He was on the edge of his seat now, and you needed desperately to put some space between you. You stood up and stretched, moving to clean up a pile of papers you'd left on your coffee table that morning.

“You certainly seemed interested six months ago, Spence. I just assumed there was a second date after that first one. My bad.”

You moved to your kitchen, bit he followed you.

“What do you mean? Y/N?” You weren't listening though, instead organising and cleaning things at a quick pace so your brain didn't have to focus on his question.

“Y/N, look at me. Please.” He stepped closer his chest nearly against your back as his hand found your wrist.

It was involuntary, but you relaxed into his familiar grip, your body finally content, and now it was back in his arms.

“Or don't look at me and just listen to me. I don't know what you're talking about, but I never went on any date with Rachel. I wasn't interested in her like that, I was interested in-” He stopped short, frustration ebbing his voice off as the silent words hung between the two of you.

You finally turned around to look at him, and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

He whispered his question again.

“Why didn't you say goodbye?”

“Because my heart was broken, Spencer. Because I took you to meet my friends and I thought I was going to introduce you as my boyfriend, but instead I got ignored the whole night and then you arranged to meet with her and she called it a date. I loved you, I love you and I couldn't say goodbye because then I'd have to hear about it. About how you were happy without me, when I was lonely and broken without you.”

You didn't know you were crying until the tears his your lips. He wiped then away, but they still tasted salty as you licked your lips.

“I didn't come to work for a month,” he confessed. “After you left, I tried to give Hotch my resignation letter. He wouldn't tell me where you went. I came back but it wasn't the same without you.” His forehead rested against yours, noses touching as his words came out barely above a whisper.

“I can't come back, Spencer. Not until I don't feel this way anymore.”

He didn't miss a beat before pressing his lips against yours.

“Don't.” He said between kisses, pinning you against your kitchen counter as he gripped your waist in one hand. You didn't pull away, even as you felt your hot tears flow freely.

“Don't stop loving me. Please.” His voice broke as he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms tight around your back, pinning your hands to his chest as sobs wracked through your body.

You'd held onto this pain for a year and it was all spilling out now.

He looked at you again and started kissing each tear away, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and he was as close you you as he could possibly be.

“Love me forever. Please.”

You pulled his head away to look at him again, searching for reassurance again that this wasn't going to be one-sided.

“What about you? If I love you forever, which I don't think I have a choice in, how-”

“I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, I will always love you. I don't know how it wasn't clear when I followed you around every second of the day.” He kissed you with each confession, looking angry at himself that he'd never said the words before.

“I asked your friend how I should ask you to be my girlfriend. She had a lot of ideas and said we should meet up and talk about it. I didn't know…” He cursed, not quite as quietly as he'd attempted to. The strangeness of it shocked a laugh out of you, the rumble of it vibrating through your chest. He still held you tightly, but he looked at you again, getting out of his head.

“What's funny?”

“You tried to quit your job to look for me.”

“You moved to South Dakota instead of asking what we were.”

“You kissed me before you told me how you felt.”

“You kissed me back and then you laughed at me.”

“You swore!” You laughed again, and you were sure that he was going to have to put you down this time. You were laughing so much.

Instead he pulled you tighter into his arms and walked out of the kitchen.

“Is this the bedroom?” He asked nodding towards the closed door.

Your laugh quieted at the charged question, until your eyes found his lips as you nodded.

“Good.”

You let him lay you down on the bed before you pulled him in for another kiss, this one more fiery than any you'd shared in the kitchen as he hovered over you on the bed.

“Spencer!” You gasped as his hands trailed under your shirt. You regretted changing out of that small dress now, regretting the amount of fabric between you and him as his hands glided up to your breasts, mouth pressing kiss after kiss into your neck and collarbone.

He nestled his knee between yours and climbed fully over you, pushing your legs open as he showed you where you were going next. You moaned as your back arched into his touch, rubbing yourself against him but still needing him closer.

“I love every sound you make.’ He whispered as his other hand worked its way under the sweatpants you'd thrown on earlier, silently pushing them down your legs as you lifted your hips to help him once again.

His mouth connected with yours again after he got them to your knees, hand pressing flat against your stomach as you finished off the job.

He laid next to you, pulling his lips off your own as you trailed after him. But his eyes weren't on you anymore. You followed his gaze to his hand and watched him slip his fingers under your panties as he began to tease your sensitive parts.

You whimpered slightly as the contact, as he gathered some of your wetness and ran his fingers up and down your sensitive parts.

His lips found your ears. “Just like that. I want to hear you just like that. Whimper for me, Y/N. Beg for me. Let me know how much you want this.”

You gasped as he started rubbing slow even circles around your clit, his body still rolled to the side so he could watch intently the pleasure on your face.

It was near voyeuristic, his eyes focused on your face, the pants of air escaping your lips, the way your nipples had hardened, and had become visible through your shirt.

You hadn't been able to wear a bra with your dress earlier, you wanted to explain, but you couldn't find the words.

“Look at your body reacting to me. You need me to make you feel like this.” He whispered, lowering his head to press a chaste kiss over your clothed nipple. “Right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes Spencer. I need you.”

“Here. Can you feel how much I need you, too?” He grabbed your hand in his free one and pulled it over his erection, instructing you silently on how to hold it and rub it.

“I can feel it, Spencer. Please, please fuck me.” Your voice felt alien to yourself. You'd never had that high of a sex drive before, so you'd never thought you'd ever have to beg for it. But there was something in the tender touch of Spencer's fingers that has you desperate to feel him inside you.

“Do you have condoms?”

“No.”

“Birth control?”

“Yes, yes, please, Spencer. Please, I don't care.” His pace had picked up, his fingers moving slightly rougher than before, but you knew you were close as he kept massaging your sensitive clit.

You knew you were going to cum before you felt him inside you, you knew you'd want to cum again. You were going to be forever insatiable because of this man.

He kissed his way across your skin as he peeled your shirt and his clothes off, leaving your panties for last as he watched you grind your cunt into his fingers.

“I love you,” he whispered In your ear as he stroked his cock, watching your body convulse as you came just at his touch.

He kept his lips close to your ear as he entered you during the throes of your first orgasm, whispering again when he had slid his entire length into you. “And you're mine.”

You were intoxicated by his touch, cum drunk as he began thrusting and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He nipped and sucked at your neck, listening to you moan and whimper as he pulled out and entered you again and again, head thrown back into the sheets of the bed you'd been too eager to climb underneath.

A few minutes of thrusting and he gripped your waist and sat you up on his cock, moving his hands to your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he bounced you steadily on his cock.

“Shit, Spencer, you're��so…deep,” you pulled him in closer, burying your head in his neck as you deafened as embarrassing squeal.

You came again on his cock as he used you like a flashlight, his own pants and groans soundtracking your breathless orgasm.

“That's it, good job, Y/N,” he cooed at you, lowering you back onto your back and thrusting shallowly through your convulsions. When you'd recovered slightly again, he gently pushed your legs up, stretching you so your knees were as far back as they could go, splayed open so they were almost touching the bed.

His forehead rested against yours again as he held you in place, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he snapped his hips into you with long, quick thrusts that had you gasping again for the breath he was forcing out of your lungs.

“I love you. And you are mine.” He said. “I love you, and you are mine.” The words were a mantra to him as he worked himself to the edge.

“Yes, yes, I'm yours. I love you, I'm yours, Spencer.” He came with a whimper, releasing inside of you and collapsing gently into your arms as you readied yourself to hold one another for the rest of eternity.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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midnightbluebells03 · 3 days

Note

Request: The reader and ellie are friends, but the reader doesn't know if she likes girls or not, so ellie offers to let her experiment on her. Friends to lovers and mutual pining. 💓 a happy ending, preferably. Up to you whether or not to include smut!

FALLING INTO ME

CW - hair pulling, mentions of past experiences with men, oral (R receiving), thigh grinding

WC - about 2k - no outbreak AU

Leave me Ellie or Abby requests x

This was wrong right? Infront of you your childhood best friend Ellie sits crossed legged on her bed. The faded plaid sheets that have replaced dinosaurs from her youth clutched in your unforgiving grasp.

"We don't have to do anything" she says barely above a whisper. Like she's afraid to even suggest it. The air is tight, hot, like someone lit a fire and let the smoke invade the room. But there's Ellie. Her hand sitting on your thigh as her thumb swipes across bare skin, the floral sleep shorts you had opteded for letting her trace over it with no barrier. Her back pressed to the headboard like it's the only thing keeping her sitting upright. "I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry". Her hand retreats with a slight tremble.

Just ten minutes ago you were sharing a bottle of some cheap wine Ellie had got from the corner store. Giggling and reminiscing on your intertwined lives, awkward teen phases that melted into adulthood when you let it slip.

You think you might like girls.

Of course you weren't sure, you'd never done anything with a girl, but all your experiences with boys just felt empty. Felt like a chore more than fun. And who better to tell than Ellie? She had been out for years, having had her fair share of girlfriends despite her slightly awkward attitude at times. When the word 'experiment' left your lips you saw a glint in her eyes.

It made her pause, wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and place the bottle onto the nightstand. Making space for it amongst the clutter. The way she looked at you made you tilt your head in confusion, until she opened her mouth.

"You could experiment with me"

"Ellie" you finally speak up, grasping her wrist gently to halt her movement. Fingers grazing over her tattoo and making her gaze snap from the floor to your eyes. God she did really have the prettiest eyes. You'd always thought so, oftentimes comparing the hues to the fresh grass during summer or the moss growing deep in your parents garden. "I want to"

"Yeah?" She looks like she doesn't believe you, eyebrows slightly knitted together. You swallow hard before nodding, Ellie beckons you over with her hand. "Cm'here" when you inch closer you can't help but watch how Ellie flicks her tounge over her slightly chapped lips. Feeling her slowly move to hold onto your waist as you start to straddle her lap while your hands rest on her shoulders. "If you want to stop just tell me okay?"

"Promise" you feel your heart speed up as Ellie leans in. Far enough where you could kiss her but she let's you make the choice. So you do. Pressing your lips to hers and letting your eyes flutter shut.

And it makes it feel like a firework has went off in your chest.

The two of you mesh together like puzzle pieces, soft and slow while your mind races with a million thoughts. You can feel how Ellie is holding back, her hands not moving from their position on your waist. But after a few minutes when you rock your hips forward slightly you could almost swear she groans into your mouth. So you do it again, making her pull back from the kiss.

"Can I touch you?" She was always like this, always asking a million question. Things like if you wanted the last slice of pizza or what movie to put on. She always let you take the lead, like she was afraid of making the wrong choice. You nod but she just chuckles softly. "Words darling" it makes you want to clentch your thighs together, the way her her accent slips into that semi texan drawl that she picked up from Joel.

Your hands come over the top of hers, guding her up and under your tank top "Please Els"

Her fingers are calloused from the years of guitar, running up your skin slowly. Too slowly. But you don't want to complain, not with the way she's looking at you. Eyes following her hands as she pushes the fabric further up your body. You decide to speed it up a little. Taking the fabric in your own hands and pulling it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room.

Normally this is when you'd start to feel weird. Your body would almost stiffen and your brain would be flooded with thoughts of leaving. A deep guilt or twisted knot in your throat.

But not now.

Not with Ellie.

Instead your stomach tightens at how her eyes take you in. Slowly scanning over you like you're the most breath taking thing she's even seen. Her hands pause just before reaching your breasts, her pupils so blown her green eyes as almost black as she looks up at you.

"Take it off?" She whispers. Her finger coming up to ghost over the band of your bra. You nod, reaching around with shaky hands to undo the clasp. Letting the bra fall onto Ellie's lap in the sliver of space between you two. She picks it up and moves it to the side, carefully. Like it was priceless even though it was the cheapest one you owned. Some target bralette that was on sale. It was nothing like how your previous partners treated your belongings. With them it was always thrown across the room like trash, nothing more than an obstacle to their pleasure. "You're so- you're just so- fuck" Ellie mumbles before chewing on her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed the sweetest shade of pink as her hands slowly creep up your sides, inching towards your breasts.

"Ellie" you whine softly, the ache between your legs become worse with every passing second. Like you were dying for her to just touch you. It makes her lock eyes with you, as her thumb runs over your nipple. Making them stiffen and forcing a soft gasp from your lips.

"Just tell me what you want baby" her lips trail down your neck slowly as she mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you everything just tell me"

Your voice cracks slightly as you finally manage to say "Touch me"

You can feel as a slight smirk creeps onto her lips. Her fingers continuing to toy with your nipples. Just enough to make you needy but not enough to scratch the itch in your core. "I am". The faux innocence in her voice makes you roll your eyes.

"Ellie" you huff, feeling your face heat up at what you're about to say. "Fuck me please? Wanna know what it's like" with that Ellie leans into your neck fully while her hands keep on your chest, starting to place kisses down your skin as your head tips back. You can feel her smile as she moves further down, nipping slightly at your pulse point. Your hand moves to her hair, gripping softly while your hips uncontrollably start to rock against her. Desperate for any friction. Ellie pulls back but before you can complain she taps your hip.

"Straddle my thigh" you tilt you head confused but she gives you a smile before brushing a lose strand of hair out your face. "Trust me". So you do what she's asks, shifting until your legs are either side of her thigh. Ellie brings her hands to your hips, starting to steadily rock you against her. You gasp then moan softly. Almost teary eyed at finally getting some real touch from her. Even if it's clad by several layers of fabric. "See? How's that feel?"

"Good" you say with a shaky voice as Ellie sets your pace. Guiding you with a tight grip. "Feels good Ellie fuck"

"Mm" she coos softly, kissing over your collarbones before nipping at the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. "Just gotta get you ready yeah? Get you all wet for when I fuck you so good you'll forget about all the guys that couldn't make you cum". Her lips move down to your hardened nipples, wrapping around one of them as you throw you head back in pleasure.

Now this Ellie?

This was a whole new person. Like her awkward shell broke away and left someone who you were going to be thinking about forever. Suddenly all the girls she managed to get with make sense, because she's hardly touched you and you're soaking through your panties.

"Fuck" your hands tighten on her shoulders as her tounge rolls over your nipple. You still your hips, almost afraid that she'll make you cum just from this and that makes her pause. Detaching from you with a confused look.

Her eyebrows knit together and her hand comes up to cup your hot cheek. "You okay?"

Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the years of subtle crushing. Or maybe it's the way your almost certain there's a wet patch on Ellie's pyjama bottoms but you can't help stumbling out. "Fuck me Ellie"

Her hand snakes back down to your hip and she flips you over, making you squeal as your back hits the sheets. A slight giggle leaving your lips before Ellie crashes hers with yours. Her hand moving down your stomach to the band of your shorts. She pulls back but you don't give her a a chance to ask, already pulling off your shorts and panties. Kicking them onto the floor as Ellie moves down to between your legs.

"What you doing?" You ask with a slight tilt to your head, propping yourself onto your elbows to look down at her.

"What's it looks like?" She asks with a slight chuckle, starting to pepper kisses up your inner thighs but pausing before reaching your dripping pussy. "What? No one eat you out before?". Her smile fades when you shake your head, eyes darting between you and the sight before her. "That's just criminal dude"

Before you can comment on the fact she's just called you dude her tounge licks a fat strip through your folds. Making you gasp and grip the sheets. Skilled tounge circling your clit while her eyes stay focused on you. With a certain flick your hand flies to grab onto her auburn locks, tugging from the root as Ellie moans into you.eyes fluttering shut as your hips start to rutt against her face, changing a high you've never even come close to with others.

"Ellie" you whine as your back arches, soft pants filling the room as her hands creep up your hips and pull you closer. Making you moan so loudly you're almost certain anyone walking by outside would've heard. "Fuck, fuck, Els- gonna-!". Ellie doesn't falter, doesn't give you a second to breath as your orgasm rushes through you. Hips desperately trying to escape Ellie's unforgiving grasp as she works you through it, no sign of caring about the way your thighs clamp around her head unforgivingly.

By the time she pulls away to lick your slick from her lips your brain is fuzzy. Staring up at the same ceiling you helped pull glow in the dark stickers off as Ellie taps your shin.

"You...you okay?" Her voice sounds so small. You finally manage to hold yourself up to look at her. Lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them and face hot to the touch.

"That...Els that-" your words get caught in your throat so instead you reach for the collar of her shirt. Pulling her up until your lips crash together, the taste of yourself filling your mouth as Ellie places a hand on the back of your neck.

When you two part she gives you a cocky smile. Gliding hee finfers cross your cheek before moving the loose babyhairs out of your face. "I'm gonna take that as a five star review then?"

You giggle before fake thinking. "Hmm I don't know Els think I need to try it again, yknow get all the data".

She nods with pursed lips, a serious expression taking over her face. "For science".

"For science".

#lesbian #wlw #fanfic #smut #writer #writing #tlou #fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #the last of us #request #leave me request please

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macfrog · 11 months

Text

you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 2 months

Text

Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Jealousy always turns into teasing and banter between you and Steve with him seemingly always able to fluster you. You're finally able to get the best of him, catching him in a very compromising position.

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Pet names. Reader is a tease. Jealous reader. Sub-ish Steve. Semi-public sex. Oral(male receiving). Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 2.9K

It's a slow Saturday afternoon by Family Video standards.

You were glaring at Steve between one of the shelves instead of restocking.

He was shamelessly flirting with yet another customer instead of actually working as you looked on with annoyance.

Her blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, batting her eyelashes and twirling her bubble gum around her finger before placing it back between her glossed lips as his eyes watched her intently.

You grumbled as you turned back around, shoving the VHS tape clutched in your hand back to its place on the shelf as you heard her laughter followed by, “Oh Steve, you are so funny!”

“He's not that funny, Tiffany.” You mumbled under your breath. “He's used that same joke on at least ten other people this week.”

“What was that, Princess?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, as the rest of the tapes went flying out of your hands hitting the floor as you whirled around.

His elbow was propped against the shelf next to you, much closer than you anticipated when you turned.

“Fuck, Harrington.” You clutched your chest. “Warn someone next time.”

He chuckled as he bent down to pick up the fallen items.

“I thought you heard me walk up. It's not my fault.” He shrugged, standing back up to full height placing everything on the cart in front of him.

“All I heard was obnoxious laughter coming from that bimbo over there.” Looking away from him, missing the way his eyes lit up, chancing a glance at your ass before his tongue darted out licking his lips.

“Princess, if you're jealous just say so.” You scoffed, before he lowered his voice daring to step a little closer to you. “Then, maybe we could do something about it.”

Your breath hitched, but you couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing what his words did to you so, you decided instead to play along. Give him a little taste of his own teasing.

“Steve?” You turned, inching closer to him. A flash of shock passed over his face when you placed your hands on his chest moving up to toy with the collar of his polo before looking up at him through your lashes, giving him your best doe eyes. You watched him gulp, releasing a sharp breath before replying.

“Yeah, princess?” Voice coming out low and soft. No hint of teasing unlike the way he usually hissed the nickname, hesitantly he placed his hands on your hips. His touch sent a spark through you, but you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing.

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, as his eyes darted to your lips.

You stood on the tips of your toes, nose grazing his cheek, finally letting your lips ghost the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“In your dreams, big boy.” You grinned, pulling back and giggling as he released the hold he had on you. You didn't look back, pushing the cart down the aisle leaving him there to gawk after you.

You heard him groan and hiss under his breath before quickly darting toward the back into Keith's office.

You laughed again, finally getting the best of Steve Harrington.

You hummed, putting away the returns until you realized it had been at least ten minutes since he disappeared.

You smirked to yourself, steady steps leading to the back of the store stopping short when your hand landed on the knob, but it wouldn't budge.

“Steve, are you okay in there?” You sang, shit eating grin plastered across your face as you knocked.

“Give me a few, I'm fine.” It came muffled but his voice sounded a little strained.

“You sure about that?” You laughed out, suddenly getting a devious idea. You'd been pinning after him for months, though he was seemingly oblivious. Jealousy got the best of you, turning into anger fueled banter. Steve thought you hated him which was far from the truth.

Quickly jogging to the front, you locked the door, turning the closed sign around, and grabbing the spare key beside the register.

You didn't warn him, shoving the key into the lock as it clicked open. Pushing it slowly open, until he came into view sat behind the desk.

His head was thrown back, face flushed with his cheeks the prettiest shade of pink. He was panting, pouty lips parted into an “o”. Your eyes traveled down to where his pants and boxers were shoved down his thighs. His hand fisted around his thick cock, stroking furiously at his ample length.

He raised his head, locking eyes with you as the door slammed against the back wall catching his attention.

Shock overtook his features, as he sat up trying to hide himself under the desk, but it was far too late. You'd seen everything and the image of his massive dick would forever be seared into your brain.

“Fuck, what’re you doing back here?” He sputtered out, shoving his now aching cock down past your line of vision.

You didn't say anything, stepping further into the room, shutting the door behind you in case any customers tried to look through the front windows.

“Need some help with that, Stevie?” You smiled, devilish and sweet, cocking your head toward him.

“Wh-what?” He rushed out, brows furrowed. His chestnut locks stuck to his forehead from the thin sheen of sweat he'd accumulated.

“Do you need some help with that?” Enunciating each word more slowly, as if that would help his comprehension.

His mouth parted slightly, before snapping it shut. You'd managed to render him speechless.

You threw the key on the desk, as his eyes followed your movements.

Slowly, you shucked the family video vest off your shoulders, letting it hit the ground.

Your hands slowly drifting to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head suddenly glad you had opted for your soft pink, lacy bra that morning.

When your eyes drift back to his, he's slack jawed eyes roving over any exposed skin he can find.

“You ok, Stevie?” Coming out a little snarky, knowing you finally have the upper hand, shaking your hips a little as you rounded the desk.

You planted your foot on the desk chair beside his thigh, pushing in until his lap slowly rolled back into view.

His cock was long, and thick with a ruddy tip making your mouth water at the sight. You'd heard the rumors but seeing it in person was altogether a different experience.

You didn't give him time to think, placing your hands on either side of the chair arms caging him in.

He sucks in a sharp breath when you close in, face to face. Noses barely grazing.

“You've got a really pretty cock, Stevie. Anyone ever tell you that?” You say, lips barely grazing his as he releases a soft whimper.

He shakes his head no, as your hand trails across his exposed abdomen. Fingertips carding through the sparse hair from his belly button leading down.

He took in a shuddered breath as you got closer to his aching need, kicking up at the very thought of you touching him.

“That's a real shame because you have a really pretty cock.” You said, wrapping your hand around as much of him that you could, eliciting another whimper from his parted lips.

“Oh fuck, you don't have to… shit…” he hissed, his eyes closing at the sensation.

“What if I want to? That, ok?” You breathed out.

He nodded furiously, as you moved your hand up his length, thumb collecting the precum at the top of his cock as you slid it effortlessly at the head back down.

“Think Tiffany would do this for you, Steve?” You asked, lowering yourself down, laying your head on his lap just inches from where he wanted you the most. You turned, planting a kiss to his thigh as he bucked upward.

You decided to take a little mercy on him, flattening your tongue running it up the underside of his shaft.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned out, taking him completely by surprise wrapping your soft, supple lips around his head sucking softly before taking him fully into your mouth.

You hum around his taste, taking the time to look up through your lashes at his fucked-out expression. He's never looked so beautifully wrecked as you begin to bob your head, stroking with your hand what you couldn't fit down your throat.

He reaches for the back of your head, fingers raking up, grasping the loose hair at the nape of your neck.

“Hey, hey” he coos. “You don't have to do all that, princess.” That cocky, Harrington demeanor breaking through, pulling off with a slight pop.

“Too much for you, big boy?” Flashing him a grin, flicking your tongue across his head. His hips suddenly canting upward, chasing your mouth.

“No, shit. It's great… I just thought…” He stuttered out.

“Use your words, Stevie.” You chuckled, rising over him, deftly reaching behind undoing your bra.

The straps began to slide down your arms as your bare chest comes into view. He sucked in a sharp breath, as he looks you over.

“Fuck Princess, you're perfect.” Licking his lips as he let his eyes trail over your breasts.

“Mmmm, yeah Stevie?” Your hands roamed over them making eye contact with him as you do; your nipples stiffen with the touch.

“I have an idea. I'll let you fuck me if you're a good boy. But you have to follow directions.”

He swallows again, nodding, “Yeah, I can do that. I like that idea.”

“Stay right there.” You tell him, as you begin to shimmy your underwear down your legs, leaving your skirt on. They pool at your feet as you step to the side leaving them behind.

No regard for Keith's stuff scattered across the desk, you push it out of the way, as some things scatter to the floor.

Steve has a perfect view of your ass from his position behind you making him groan.

You quickly turn around, hopping up on the desk, spreading your legs slowly for him to see your bare pussy already dripping with arousal.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, wrapping his hand back around his cock searching for a little relief.

“Nuh uh. Keep your hands off. Eyes on me.” You instruct. He does as he's told as your hand travels down. Your fingertips glide through your folds, gathering some slick before circling your clit and releasing a little exaggerated moan.

“Oh, Steve, it feels so good.” You watch through hooded eyes as his cock bobs on its own. He's gripping the chair arms so tight, his knuckles are turning white, and you've barely just started. You knew he wasn't going to last, now it was just a game to see how long it would take before he decides to fuck you senseless.

You toy with your clit a few more moments before dropping to your entrance. Having him watch you was sending your body into overdrive. You quickly inserted a finger, as he leaned forward trying to gain a better look.

“I bet your fingers would feel so much better than mine.” Arching your back, as you insert another. “Yours are so long, and thick. Mmmm… fuck.”

“Yeah? Want me to use my fingers?” Finally finding his voice, eyes trained to where yours keep disappearing inside your tight cunt.

You nod, continuing to fuck yourself, trying to remain in control but you were on the verge of being pushed over the edge already. You threw your head back, your lower belly tightening with each pass and brush of your hand.

You suddenly felt his hand wrap around your ankle, as your eyes shot open. He had made his way over to you, standing between your parted thighs. You were losing your resolve.

“I'm so close, Steve.” You breathed out. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Come on, Princess. You've got it. Keep fucking your fingers, come f’me.” He urged you on, as his hands took up residency on your thighs pushing them further apart.

“Mmmm, fuck Steve.” You whined out, that coil tightening. He eased his thumb up, suddenly grazing your clit. The sensation has your hips bucking upwards as you chase your high.

“Yeah? Keep going.” He sang out, trying not to think about the way his dick was aching, longing to be where your fingers are but he wanted to see you come undone.

Your legs start to tremble, as he begins drawing circles against your puffy clit. He ducks his head down to your chest, drawing a pert nipple into his mouth sucking harshly.

“Shit, Steve! I'm gonna cum.” You huffed out as that coil within you finally snapped, your back hitting the desk, legs closing around your hands as your cunt spasmed around your fingers.

“Fuck, Princess. That was so fucking hot.” He said, as you were trying to catch your breath. You grinned, raising your head slightly to look back at him.

He was lazily stroking his cock, as your thighs parted, beckoning him forward. Coming to slot himself back between your thighs he eased his ministrations momentarily.

“Let me grab a condom,” saying as he reached down into his pants. You gripped his shirt, pulling him forward as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His cock nestled itself against your core as you both moaned out in unison.

“You don't have to. Fuck me, Steve!” You carded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You watched his eyes go wide; pretty sure his brain was short circuiting at the thought.

“Fuck, are you sure?” Asking, as his hands drift down the plush of your thighs, dragging you more toward the edge of the desk.

“I'm sure, Stevie.” You nod, as he brings his hand between you, gripping himself to line up with your dripping entrance. You were aching, your first orgasm doing nothing to quell the need to be filled.

His head caught, causing your back to arch into him as he pushes ever so slowly into you. He was big, the stretch was already overwhelming you causing you to close your eyes, as your fingertips dig into his shoulders.

He watches the way he slowly disappears into you, the way your walls were sucking him could almost push him over the edge.

“Fuck, honey. So, tight.” He hisses out, as he finally pushes all the way in, gripping your hips with a bruising force.

The pinch of him filling you to the brim began to gradually subside into a dull ache.

You looked up at him through your lashes, gaining his attention from where the two of you were now connected.

“Steve, please move.” He nodded, nearly removing himself entirely before snapping his hips back into yours with ease.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss out, as he begins to set a pace that has you both moaning out.

The desk starts to move with each thrust, as papers, pens and loose items begin to fall from the edges.

The small office echoing with the sounds of skin slapping skin as his thrusts become harsher, faster trying to get you both there.

“Think you got one more, honey?” He asked, voice sugary sweet.

You nod, as he once again moves to toy with your clit.

“Come on honey, I wanna see ya’ fall apart on my cock.” He grunts out, trying to stave off his own release.

The pressure had been building, but his words sent you careening over the edge. It was a shock to you both as your cunt clamped down around him. You came with a scream of his name, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him further into you.

He had no choice, the way your pussy was pulsing around him. He felt his balls tighten, thrusting once more harshly before he began painting your inner walls with his sticky spend.

“Fuck, honey.” He hissed, looking up at your blissed out expression. He moved his hand, tucking a piece of hair from your face before smashing his lips to yours. It was sweet, and slow. So different from the way he fucked you moments ago.

You kissed each other until you had to break apart for air, panting in each other's space as he spoke.

“Does this mean you don't hate me anymore?”

You giggled, lightly batting his shoulder.

“You're an idiot, Steve Harrington. I never hated you.”

“Well, I…” His train of thought was quickly interrupted when someone started banging on the door.

“Hey dinguses! You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I eat my lunch in there!” Robin blurted out as you two let out stifled giggles.

“Uh, sorry Rob. We'll clean up.” You sang out.

“Ewww! You're both lucky I love you so much!” You heard her groan, as she marched off.

He slid himself from you, as you released a small hiss. He softly rubbed your thigh before mumbling a quick apology.

You quickly gathered your clothes, putting them on as he straightened himself and the desk up.

“Hey, you want to go out after work? Grab a bite to eat? Movie at my place?” He asked, hand gravitating toward the back of his head, smoothing his hair down. A habit he had when he was nervous. “I mean, I know we may have done this a little backwards, but I like you. A lot.”

“So, Steve Harrington is asking me out on a date? I’ll think about it.” You teased, opening the door leaving him to once again gawk after you for the second time today.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader smut #joe keery

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Pride

Thank you to @ave661 for the eye candy

Price x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, daddy kink, praise kink, semi-public sex, p in v, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, unprotected sex

Reader is early 30s Price is 38 … though in my mind he’s 100% 45 lmao man radiates dilf energy

This isn’t proof read … I love chaos

It’s started as a joke, a tongue in cheek joke aimed towards you Captain over some celebratory drinks in the local pub. It had been a hard mission, alcohol was a must after what you’d been through as a team. It was the middle of December, fairy lights hung above the bar as a roaring fire lit up the snug corner of the pub.

Drinks were flowing, the atmosphere was cosy and conversation was easy. You were sat in the middle of your Captain and your Lieutenant. Their wide bodies crowded you in the booth as you relaxed into the warmth of their firm muscles. As you were drinking Gaz came running up to the table ‘right, I’m off.’ He had a smirk on his face as he downed the last of his pint, noticing a woman stood by the door you threw him a wink ‘she’s very pretty Gaz. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’

Soon after Johnny slipped away, telling you he was meeting up with an old friend. Even your stoic Lieutenant had been making eyes at a lucky woman at the bar. Turning to your Captain, your head swimming in alcohol you pouted at him. ‘What’s the matter cap? Worried you’re a bit too old for these spring chickens in here?’ You smiled as you said it, rubbing your tongue over your teeth.

‘Careful love’ he growled, just low enough so only you could hear, ‘could teach you a thing or two yanno.’ You scoffed rolling your eyes, you dropped your eyes to his lips as you bit yours softly. ‘An old man like you? What would you know about pleasing a woman?’

And that’s exactly how you ended up in the back of his car, laid out, bottom half bare as he ran his tongue up and down your cunt. You gripped the leather seats as his tongue swirled around your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure to sent jolts of electricity through your body.

Your sweet moans filled the car as Price inhaled them like the very oxygen he needed to survive. Arching your hips into him you craved more. He was holding back. ‘John … please’ you begged as you gripped his arm. ‘What’s the matter? Old man too much for you?’ He questioned, his deep blue eyes fixated on your glowing body. ‘Feels so good John, don’t stop.’

With your permission he grazed your slit with his thick fingers, gathering your arousal. The sound was sinful. You bit your lip as he gently pushed into you, stretching your hole as you gasped for breath. You couldn’t see it, but he had one hell of a smug grin over his face. If it was one thing the Captain took pride in? It was how he could fuck.

He picked up his pace as he slowly added a second finger, stretching you further. He watched as his fingers moved in and out of your glistening hole, conducting a chorus of gasps and moans from your lips. He kept thrusting his fingers, watching your body writhe from pleasure. Your chest heaving and panting, your eyes screwed shut as you clenched your thighs around him.

‘Pretty little thing ain’t you?’ He cooed, before adding his thumb to your swollen bundle of nerves. A sharp gasp left your lips at the sudden intrusion. ‘Shit, oh my god’ you whimpered, burying your face into the leather seat. He leant over you, still keeping his punishing pace, lips hovering just above yours. ‘Not god love, just John.’

Feeling you begin to clench around his fingers he replaced his thumb with his mouth. Nipping, sucking and licking your clit, pushing you further and further to the brink of your orgasm. A string of incoherent words emerged from your throat as you threw your head back. ‘That’s it, give it to me love’ he whispered against your cunt, his beard tickling your sensitive skin.

Pushing your fingers through his hair you gripped it, pulling his face further into your aching pussy. He smiled against your folds savouring your arousal on his tongue. Your orgasm rushed over you in a tidal wave of unbridled pleasure. Completely blinded by your orgasm you hadn’t realised what you’d moaned.

Opening your eyes you saw Price staring down at you, a devilish glint in his eye. ‘Daddy huh?’ Oh god no. You didn’t realise you’d said it. He nuzzled into your neck nipping it softly between his teeth ‘mmm let daddy show you how well he can fuck eh?’ It was a growl, a low rumble from the depths of his chest.

He pulled you up onto his lap as he kissed you, his arms wrapped around you as he cupped your head into his. The kiss was messy and desperate, tongues fighting for control amongst the mass of teeth and lips. Rolling your hips into him you felt his hard cock against your core. ‘Fuck me John, now’ you demanded. Never being one to say no he quickly pulled out his cock and lined himself up.

You sank down onto his cock, both gasping as he filled your hole. He gripped your hips and began guiding you, rolling you back and forth as you covered his cock with your arousal. ‘Keep goin love, just like that … pussys so good’ he praised. He licked his lips as you began bouncing, wrapping your arms around his neck you nipped his bottom lip.

The windows were steamed up, the car filled with the sound of skin on skin, your pussy being filled and fucked. But the good Captain wanted more, wanted to show you how good he really was. In a swift motion he placed you face down on the back seat, instinctively you arched your hips up to meet him. He slipped back into your cunt, both of you gasping once more.

You pushed back into him as he began to thrust, gripping both your hips he slammed into you. A truly punishing pace, his cock felt so good as it ground against your core. He let out deep satisfied moans as he fucked you from behind. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling completely cock drunk. ‘Oh fuck daddy!’ You wailed as you scrambled to grip onto the leather seat, his pace was unrelenting. ‘That’s right’ he growled, ‘let daddy take this of this pussy.’

Spanking your ass he watched as the muscle juggled with each thrust. His eyes glued to the shape of your body beneath him, he snaked his hand into your hair. Pulling you backward causing your to arch your back further, your tits bounced each time he slammed into your pussy. ‘Oh fuck, right there, right there daddy’ you spat through gritted teeth.

‘Good girl, takin’ this cock so well.’ The praise drove you wild, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Your skin felt like it was on fire, he rubbed your back, each fibre of your being lit up as he caressed you. ‘More daddy please, please please please’ you muttered, it was almost like a mantra. He spanked you again ‘little whore cock drunk already? Daddy’s doin a good job huh?’ He groaned under his breath.

You felt yourself tighten against his cock, ‘fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum’ you said, your voice strained from pure pleasure and desire. He dropped his hand from your waist to your clit, toying with it between his fingers. Daring you to come on his cock, pushing you further and further. He couldn’t not make you come again, his pride wouldn’t let him. He needed to hear your pretty little moans again, feel your cunt constrict around his cock.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you pushed your forehead into the seat beneath you. No sound came from your mouth as your orgasm ripped through you. John wasn’t too far behind, he pulled out and flipped you over, shoving his cock down your throat. You gagged around him as he came down your throat. Looking up at him through hooded lids, tears stung the corners of your eyes as you swallowed.

Whispered grunts and whimpers fell from his lips as his cock pulsated in your mouth. Your sweet saliva coating the entire length of his sensitive shaft. He offered you a warm smile as he pulled out, tracing your jaw with his thumb. ‘Now. What do you say to daddy?’

With a content sigh you licked your lips as you grazed his muscular thigh with your nails. ‘Mmm thank you.’

————

Taglist - @luminousbeings-crudematter @griffmors

I low key hate this lmfao daddy kink makes me shudder but it fit - thank you to @johnnytavish who suggested the daddy kink lmao

#call of duty #cod mw22 #captain price smut #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x you #modern warefare 2

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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 5 months

Text

WILDEST DREAMS.

Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x pregnant!Reader

Neither of you would have thought you‘d ever end up like this — dating for hardly a year and you pregnant with Aegon‘s child. Yet he still has another surprise up his sleeve.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, pregnant sex, pregnancy, lactation kink, semi public sex, daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink

WORDS: 3.5 K

NOTES: Thanks to @lovelykhaleesiii for this amazing request! This can be read as part of the Mine and Mine only universe. 🤭

White Harbor has never looked more peaceful than it does at this moment.

Just two days ago, the sky above the harbor was lit up by fireworks with thousands of people watching, and now the only lights you can see are the ones on the docked boats, and the street lights and buildings surrounding the harbor.

Instead of a formal dinner with his friends, just like he has celebrated every year, Aegon has chosen to invite his younger siblings and their respective families to White Harbor to celebrate the New Year, renting a penthouse overlooking the impressive harbor. It was meant to be a trip no longer than three days, however, all parties involved have quickly decided that it would be better to extend the trip by a few more.

You and Aegon have been dating for hardly a year, meeting by chance in the very same spot you sit in right now, and, after you have found out that you both live in King’s Landing, decided to enter a situationship because you enjoyed each other’s company but weren’t looking for something serious.

Until he got you pregnant by accident.

After you both agreed to keep the child, you could swear you had spotted a few tears brimming in his eyes as you handed him the positive pregnancy test, you could observe from day to day how he became more and more absorbed in the father’s role.

You’re seven months pregnant by now, and, except for the ridiculous amount of milk your body already provides for the child, you have little to no symptoms. The child has been moving quite a bit ever since you’ve hit the six month mark, but you have gotten used to it by now.

Aegon’s arm is draped over the back of your chair with his fingers drawing mindless patterns along your upper arm, and you two bask in each other’s company and the silence surrounding you. You’re nursing your second glass of non-alcoholic wine, one hand resting on the swell of your bump and feeling the kicks of your child.

While your eyes are fixed on the tv in the adjoining living room, the Disney movie still running that was meant to keep Helaena’s children occupied during dinner, Aegon has his eyes solely locked on you, watching you gently caress your protruding bump.

He places his hand over yours, the sudden warmth prompting you to meet his loving gaze.

You lean into his embrace, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his all too familiar, comforting scent.

“You know they won’t come back, right?” you ask, voice slightly muffled because of the position of your face.

Aemond and his wife left two hours ago to feed their little boy and bring him to bed, and have not returned ever since to do God-knows-what. Helaena and Cregan were a bit more persistent with both their children occupied by the television, before they eventually departed to bring them to bed, too.

That left Aegon and you all by yourself without the hurry to get to bed.

He chuckles at your words. “I figured as much,” he says, pinching your chin to bring your lips up to his. “We have this evening all to ourselves now.”

Knowing exactly what he is hinting at, your eyes take over a half-lidded gaze almost immediately, your hormones having you feel positively bubbly.

“And I suppose there are plenty of ways we can entertain ourselves in the meantime,” you purr against his lips, pecking them once. He has parted his lips when you pull back, clearly having anticipated you to deepen the kiss and not pull away after just one chaste peck.

A growl rumbles in his chest as he’s figured out your teasing, and his voice is husky when he speaks again, “are there now?”

His eyes spark with the joy of mischief at his own words, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

Aegon’s hand drops lower onto your hip, drawing you closer to him to the point you have to get up to straddle his lap. Just at the sight of the pregnant you climbing him, he could feel his crotch growing tighter, much more at the realization that it was his seed doing this to you.

The skirt of your dress rides up your thighs as you make yourself comfortable to accommodate the space your bump creates. The fabric rucks up just below your belly, and your bare skin is too inviting for your boyfriend not to rub his hands up and down the outsides of your thighs.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, and lean in to connect your lips with his. Aegon meets the kiss with passion, his arms snaking around your frame to pull you closer. Your lips press together with urgency, your tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

You run your fingers through his short, silver curls and hold him tight to you as the kiss deepens. You’re both eager to get as close as possible to each other, and you feel the evidence of your proximity and his desire pressing against your clothed and swollen pussy.

Aegon draws back slightly, and you chase his lips for another kiss. It was passionate but short-lived with him lowering his head to kiss your jaw.

He caresses the swell of your belly as he trails his lips to your neck, shoulder and then your collarbone. You whimper and whine at the heat on your skin that follows his lips, tilting your head to the side to grant him even more access.

Teasingly slow, he hooks his index finger beneath the strap of your dress and drags it down your shoulder, completely unphased as he starts to nibble your skin. He proceeds to do the same with the other strap, letting them dangle in the cooks of your elbows with your arms bent.

He brushes his hand over the side of your bump up to your heavy breast, cupping it through the fabric. “You haven’t worn a bra all day long,” he rasps against your collar bone, looking up at you with dark blown eyes. “Such a little minx. Bet you didn’t even think about how badly I would have to hold myself back, huh?”

The touch to your breast sends a tremble through your body, and you arch your back into it. Biting your lip as you look down at him, you whisper teasingly, though there is a hint of glee audible in your words, “not one second.”

His piercing blue eyes widen for a moment, the true meaning behind your words slowly settling. When he squeezes your breast, you tug on his hair in return, causing him to groan, and with his head already tilted up, he presses his lips to your jaw.

“You’re a very, very naughty girl… mommy.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, and his words make your body hum with desire.

You lick your lips, and bow your head to meet his, kissing him deeply. You start to grind over his clothed cock, eliciting sharp and heavy breaths from him and quiet whines from yourself whenever your lips parted for air.

Resting your forehead against his, you rub your hands over his shoulders, squeezing them. “Mommy can be very naughty,” you say, pecking his lips once. “If she gets what she wants…”

“And what does she want?” The grin he has on his lips is perfectly audible, you don’t even have to see it. He knows all too well what you’re going to say, he just wants to hear it.

“You, daddy.”

You can tell he’s taken by surprise at the nickname, since you’ve never used it with him before, his eyes widen as he pulls back to regard you. But nevertheless, a low groan leaves his lips.

Having always been insatiable and hungry for each other, it’s no surprise which direction it all takes when Aegon cups your ass and lifts you up to carefully sit you down on the table, standing between your parted legs. You bury your fingers in the hairs on the back of his neck again, and watch him carefully.

“Say that again.”

With a cheeky grin on your lips, your eyes visibly trail from his to his lips and then down to his crotch, the bulge perfectly visible. “Daddy,” you reply to the command, innocently batting your eyelashes at him.

Aegon groans again, and when his hands tug on the front of your dress, you shimmy out of the straps to allow him to free your full breasts. It’s impossible for him to tear his eyes off of them, watching mesmerized how your nipples harden as the chill air hits them.

You don’t even have to say anything for him to lean in and wrap his lips around one bud, skipping the teasing to suck on it immediately, swallowing your milk like a man starved. The stimulation and relief it brings has your back arching once again, all but shoving your breasts against his lips and into his hand.

He’s pinching your other nipple between his fingers, coaxing drops of your milk to dribble down the curve of your breast while his lips greedily lap at your other.

“Fuck,” you mewl, scratching your fingers over his scalp in a comforting manner.

Aegon’s spurred on by the way your body writhes beneath his touch and your legs clamp around his hips, locking him in and prompting him to rut his hard cock against your clothed pussy.

But as much as you yearn for the relief his lips bring you, the aching between your legs is too much and needs to be soothed by him.

“I need you, Aeg,” you whine, grinding yourself against his hard-on.

A deep groan rumbles in his chest at your words, stoking the already blazing need you have for each other. To your surprise, he pulls back from your breast with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your hard bud and his swollen lips.

They are curled into a smug smirk, the expression that so often blesses his chiseled features. “What was that?”

You sigh, biting your bottom lip to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You know what he wants to hear. “I need you… daddy.”

Like a man possessed, Aegon pushes the skirt of your dress up and reveals your cotton panties. You haven’t worn thongs in ages, and he’s used to them by now, though it took him some while.

Noticing the damp spot in the center of them, Aegon scoffs. “God, fuck, how I‘ve missed you,“ he husks, his eyes solely focused on the outlines of your swollen folds against the cotton. He‘s not talking to you, obviously. “So eager to be filled by me, baby, mh?”

He fists the fabric between his fingers and just rips it apart as if it‘s nothing, briefly meeting your pouting gaze. “I’ll buy you prettier ones,” he replies.

His hands curl around your thighs to pull you closer towards the edge of the table, and you lean back and prop yourself on your hands, watching almost eagerly as he undoes the zipper of his pants and pulls out his cock. The tip is covered in an angry red, beads of pre cum glistening at the slit, looking all too painful and begging for relief.

Fisting the base of his cock, he drags it through your swollen folds, soaking it in your arousal before he presses the tip against your entrance, meeting resistance. You brace yourself for the delicious stretch, and release a shuddered breath when he finally breeches your hole.

Aegon doesn’t know where to look and touch you. Every inch of your body looks far too inviting, and he’s sure he could cum just knowing that he’s the one responsible for the swelling of your body. The half lidded gaze you flash at him doesn’t help either, driving him mad.

A husky groan slips past his lips as your walls squeeze him ever so tightly, throbbing and twitching as you choke him like a vice. “Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I’m not gonna last long,” he rasps.

One hand comes up to grope at your breast, while the other rests on the swell of your bump, splaying over it.

As he pulls his hips back, you wrap your legs around them in a fruitless effort to force him back into you, but he is stronger and merely keeps the tip of his cock inside of you.

“So eager to have me inside of you?” he teases, and your reply dies on your tongue as he thrusts sharply back into you.

There’s a suppressed urgency in the way Aegon snaps his hips into yours so quickly and harshly, repeatedly bullying the sweet spot inside of you that makes you putty in his hands. The vigorous pace of his pounding leaves you scrambling for support, and you opt to prop yourself up on your elbows instead of your hands to steady yourself.

Your head tilts back, and your mouth falls open, but you quickly clamp it shut to stop any wanton moans to fall from your lips. You can’t risk being too loud, as you don’t want anyone in the bedrooms far down the hallway to hear what you’re up to.

The pleasure envelops you, and when you look at him, you spot him biting his bottom lip harshly, clearly struggling with staying quiet just as much as you do. What seems to distract him at least a bit is the way your breasts jiggle each time his hips meet yours, sending tremors through your body.

Toe curling pleasure overtakes your body, and you can’t help but fondle the breast that isn’t groped by him, teasing your nipple to the point beads of your milk dribbled out of it again. The sight has him groan out, a tad too loud for the both of you.

“So fucking pretty carrying my child,” Aegon grunts, the praise making your pussy throb with pleasure and your head fuzzy. He gathers some of your milk on the pad of his thumb, bringing it up to his lips to suck his digit clean. “Pussy or tit – you just taste divine.”

The obscenity of his words coax a renewed wave of your arousal to ooze out of your cunt, soaking his throbbing cock and the table below. You don’t want it to end just yet, but with the knot in your belly tightening, there’s no way to escape.

Your heels dig into Aegon’s ass cheeks to slightly decelerate the pace of his thrusts and force him to go even deeper, intensifying the sensations you feel.

“Fuck… please,” you whimper with your face contored in pleasure.

Aegon wrinkles his nose, looking at you from under the strands of hair that have fallen into his face. “Need something, mommy?”

Your hips roll against his as best as they can, the swollen belly not making it easy, and your mouth falls open again with breathy whimpers leaving it. “I-I’m close,” you mewl, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Wanna cum, daddy… please.”

You spot the hint of a smile dancing over his features, before he peels your hand off of your breast to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

His other hand has found its way down to your pussy, skilled fingers dragging over your bundle in the rhythm they have long internalized. He knows you like clockwork, knows what gets you going and what makes you take just a little longer.

“Cum for me,” he pants against the back of your hand, not once breaking eye contact with you.

You collapse on the tabletop, the coldness of the wood hitting your flushed skin sending a shiver up your spine that goes so devilishly well with the fire that suddenly courses through your veins.

Just in time with your orgasm washing over you, Aegon places his hand over your mouth to stifle the loud moans and whines, knowing damn well that even though he can hold himself back, the same doesn’t apply to you.

You squeeze his cock so tightly as you fall apart beneath him, your back inevitably arching off of the table.

“That’s it, mommy,” he coos while he fucks you through the orgasm, the toe-curling pleasure overtaking your every being. He watches in awe as your face contorts in pleasure, taking pride in it since it’s him that’s responsible for it.

Only as he feels your body relax and your breathing turn more shallow than heavy does he bring his hand back down to your breast, the aftershocks of your high clearly subsiding.

Aegon keeps on going despite the overstimulation taking its toll on your body now, clearly racing for his own completion. His other hand shows mercy on your sensitive clit and instead pays attention to your hip, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Taking me so well, fuck, just a little longer,” he rambles, his head bowing forward to watch where he‘s repeatedly disappearing inside of your tightness.

Your head lulls back again, and your walls flutter and clench from the overstimulation, in dire need to take his seed and bring it to an end. Both your hands fly to the edge of the table for leverage, while his hands grope every inch of your body they could grasp.

Being overstimulated by him isn’t new to you, yet the moment the discomfort melts into plain pleasure always mesmerizes you.

Your body feels as if it’s on fire with the knot in your belly tightening for a second time, the high approaching faster and harder than before.

“Would’ve fucked a child in you if you weren’t pregnant already,” Aegon mumbles, and you can hear the strain in his voice, seemingly having troubles staying quiet.

You whine in return, and it must have been the way your walls choke him for a second time, but Aegon brings his hand between your bodies again, pressing his thumb to your sensitive clit.

“Cum with me,” you all but whine, eager to have his seed paint your walls. “Fill me up, daddy, pleasepleaseplease.”

The interplay of his cock bullying your sweet spot and his thumb dragging over your clit has you toppling over the edge once again, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip to silence yourself.

But even if you wanted to moan, you couldn’t, not with the white, hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your lips part with no sounds leaving them, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

It’s not long after that Aegon comes undone, announcing his own orgasm with a stutter of his hips and a hoarse “Fuck, I–” escaping his throat.

Your clenching walls are milking him for all he got, making sure every drop of his cum is accommodated and doesn’t go to waste.

Two more thrusts are given to your fluttering pussy before Aegon stills his hips, collapsing forwards with his hands braced right next to the swell of your bump.

He’s towering over you, a lazy smirk on his lips as he meets your gaze, and beads of sweat cling to his flushed skin.

You rub your bump in circles as you look up at him, calming yourself as you regain your breathing.

And you want to speak, but Aegon beats you to it.

“Marry me.”

A gasp escapes you as you process the words, and your belly immediately churns with arousal and desire.

As his words ring in your ears, you lick your lips and gaze up at him lovingly, though something mischievous glints in your eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

His face softens, but his lips curl into a smirk. “I was waiting for the right time, but I didn’t know whether it would come at all.”

You giggle at his words, and also roll your eyes, as it was typical Aegon. But even if the moment isn’t perfect, your heart still beats rapidly, having a hard time to handle the overwhelming emotions his proposal causes you.

“But there’s still going to be a real proposal, right? With a ring and all that?” you tease playfully.

Aegon chuckles and helps you sit upright again, cupping your belly with both hands. “Of course, you’ll get a beautiful ring and everything else that comes with it. You really think I’d half-ass something like this? You deserve the most extravagant proposal.”

You sigh, savoring the feeling of his hands on your body, his softening cock still inside of you and the weight of his words.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

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chellestrash · 4 months

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A long road ahead

Shane Walsh x Female!Reader

summary: bored in the car with your boyfriend you decide to make the drive a bit more fun for both of you. warnings: pet names, explicit language, explicit content, teasing, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected sex, car sex, pure smut, not much plot to it word count: 2.2k a/n: i literally got the idea and then sat down and wrote it in like the same day? Had to get it out of the system before I work on some bigger projects, hope you'll enjoy it!

You watch the not so well, lit road from the passenger's seat of your car while Shane drives you both to a little party at one of your old friend's place, a couple of cities over. It's not a short drive, but you figured it won't be too bad on a Friday evening, and you quickly realize your assumption was correct. It's not bad, but it is boring, the road is long, and you start to get bored...quickly.

You turn to your boyfriend, watching as he skips through the radio station for a bit before setting on something that seemed semi familiar to both of you. He clears his throat, tilting his head to the side, as he goes back to watching the road in front of him. Your eyes linger on his arms for a bit, the fabric of his t-shirt tight around his bicep as he grips the steering wheel after changing the gear. You trace your eyes down his body, from his rough side profile, over that pretty neck, down to his broad shoulders, his chest and the down and down and lower until you stop right between his legs.

Your mind wanders, pretty quickly finding its way back to yours and Shane's favorite ways of passing the time together, and you suck your lower lip in between your teeth.

Watching him for another moment, with your mind occupied by the memories of his body, your hand slowly finds it way under your dress and make up your mind the second your boyfriend's voice brings you back to him.

“You okay?”

He asks, eyebrows pulled together as he turns from the road to you and back to the road again.

“Yeah.”

You answer quickly, and he glances over at you again, scrunching his nose up slightly as he does his best to figure out if you mean it or not.

“You sure?”

“I'm fine, Shane, watch the road.”

You instruct him, and he does as he's told. After turning to face the window on your side of the car, you prop your head in your palm and watch the dark buildings pass by behind the glass. It doesn't take more than a couple of minutes for your brain to wander back into the place Shane managed to, oh so effortlessly, pull you out off.

Rubbing your thumb over your thigh, you slowly move your palm higher and higher up your leg before pushing it under the fabric of your dress.

“What are-”

Shane starts, catching your hand move out the corner of his eye, but chokes on his own words once he turns his head to look at you, his eyes immediately falling between your legs. His jaw drops, eyes widen when he registers the subtle movements of your hand under the fabric, and you take this opportunity to make the ride a bit more interesting for both of you. Lifting your ass up from the seat, you quickly pull your black panties down, opening your legs slightly to allow them to fall onto the floor of the car.

“Shit-”

He curses, dropping his hand to the now, growing bulge in his jeans, doing his best to keep the car in the right lane without looking at the road too much.

“Wait- wait wait wait - fuck what-”

He tries, but you speak over him.

“I'm sooooo fucking bored, Walsh.”

You tease him with a whine, pulling the dress up just enough for him to catch the glimpse of your pussy before finally touching yourself properly.

Humming, satisfied with the sensation, you rub your fingers over your center for a moment before spreading your legs open some more to focus on the clit.

“Shane! The road!”

You point out after a moment, realizing he probably didn't look away from you since the panties brushed over your ankles. He doesn't listen, reaching his hand over to your side, trying to touch you.

“Don't-”

You push his hand away, and nod towards the road in front of the car.

“Walsh! You want me to call the cops on you? Watch the damn road!"

You warn, hand never slipping away from your center as you address him directly.

“God- fuck-, god damn it!”

He huffs, slamming his hand into the steering wheel, frustrated as he focuses back on not causing a major car wreck before reaching over and pushing your hand away from your pussy.

“Don't fucking do that then.”

He warns you, and you give him a shocked smirk.

"Or?"

You push your hips forward, the hand immediately back between your legs.

"Hey! What'd I just say, what-"

Shane glances between you and the road, trying to focus on both things at once, but you won't let him win.

"What'd i say?!"

He warns, harsh, loud voice fills the car but, you know him, it doesn't work on you.

Propping your knee on the ledge by the window, you spread your legs open even more, making sure to turn in his direction slightly, wanting him to get the best view possible.

“Oh, I don't know...didn't hear you."

You point out as you continue to rub your fingers over your clit, feeling the warmth between your legs growing more and more the more you touched yourself, but most likely the more he watched you do it. It wasn't the first time you did shit of this sort in the car, but it was the first time you decided to not let touch you, at least not yet. You wanted to tease and get to him, and that's exactly what you wear doing. Judging by the now, completely hard cock staining against the fabric of his jeans, you deserved some praise.

You moan theatrically, earning yourself another “made you look" point before, he glares into the mirror and onto the side of the road.

“I'm pulling over-.”

“Don't!”

You protest.

"Yeah, you think I'm gonna listen to you now?"

He mumbles, eyebrow raised as he glares at you and into the mirror again.

"Think I'm gonna-"

“You pull over, I'll stop. You got that?”

He turns to you quickly one more time, and you know if looks could kill, Shane Walsh would be a murdered right now.

“You're on- real thin ice right now, you know that-”

He warns you, but you manage to cut him off yet again, the wet sounds of your fingers slipping inside you cuts off any sort of communication between his brain and his lips.

You watch the way his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel as you continue to do to yourself, what he wishes he was doing right now, when the car suddenly stops.

The intersection feels like a gift from God when the red light forces him to stop the truck.

Fighting with the buckle of his belt with one hand, he undoes the seatbelt and leans over to your side of the car before ducking down, between your legs. You slip your fingers out and lift your hips up slightly to make it easier while he grunts into you. Your mouth falls open and eyes shut tight when you feel his tongue press hard against your sensitive clit.

“Oh shit- oh shit.”

You push his head harder against you, the short, buzzed hair prickling your palm while he hums loudly, licking up your slick. Digging your nails into his back, you attempt to pull him even closer, feeling the climax building up deep under your bellybutton. You don’t even dare to think about it too much, but to be completely honest, you’re pretty sure, despite the late hour, if someone looked at the car even for a moment, they’d figure out what was going on.

“Shane-”

You half gasp, half moan when the green hue of the streetlight snaps you out of the pleasant moment.

“Fuck- Shane!”

Taping the side of his head with your hand, you attempt to get his attention, but he only lifts his head up once the car behind you hooks impatient.

“Fuuu-”

He pushes his head up, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand quickly before doing his best to frantically get the car in gear before stepping on the gas. Your slick shines on his lips in the lights of the streetlamps while he speeds down the main road, pushing his hand into his boxers at the same time. You watch the fabric move as he strokes his cock again and again and again, biting into your lower lip at the site

“Pull over.”

You finally get the words out, feeling way too close to stop now, but not wanting to come without him.

“I'm fuckin- tryin-”

He almost shouts now, glancing around the car's surroundings.

“Shane…”

You warn, and he catches your hips buck up, pussy clenching around nothing, the last straw.

“Fuck- don't, wait, god fucking-”

The car jerks to the side as he cuts through the two lanes and comes to a sudden stop on a small dirt road off the side of the main one. It's, in no way, secluded, not any more than the main road, but neither of you care enough for that fact to stop you. Not at this point.

You pull your hand away from yourself and Shane yanks his jeans and boxers down, his cocks springing out, hard for you already, before he pushes his seat back enough to make room for you.

“Fuck, fuck f- c'mere darlin' c'mon-“

He grabs onto your arm desperately, helping you throw your leg over the middle of the car, and you wait exactly half a second for him to line his cock up with your entrance before taking him in at the same time as he bucks up into you.

“Oh shit- oh shit, god-fuck!”

He curses under his breath as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate to his size. His hands drop to your hips, under the dress, fingers digging into your ass when you begin to ride him, both of you working on the deep thrusts. You throw your arms over his neck, head falling back slightly, your nails on his back again as you feel his cock drag out of you before pushing in, nudging right under your stomach on the inside.

His lips find yours as the trusts speeds up and so does your breathing. You taste yourself on him and hum into the kiss before he pulls away, pushing his face into your neck with a loud grunt as he feels himself almost falling over the edge now.

“Fuck-fuck- oh shit- “

As his hips speed up even more, he pushes his hand between your bodies, and you feel his fingers on your clit.

A loud moan lets him know they're in the right place, and he scoffs loudly, smiling wide as he watches you fall apart on top of him.

Your climax hits, harder than you've anticipated, definitely harder than what you've expected when you slipped your hand under your dress a couple miles ago, and he lets you ride the high out on his cock before finally letting himself come as well.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck-”

You grip onto his torso as he fucks through your body's post orgasm clenches, listening to the wet sounds filling the car. He grunts, loud, really loud, and you know he's there.

“Ohhhh there he iiiiis. Good boy Walsh!”

You tease immediately after, not really giving him even a second to catch his breath. Resting his forehead against yours, he pants loudly, swallowing hard as he does his best to speak up now.

“Fuck you.”

He mumbles, and you laugh out loud, pressing your lips into his before dragging your hand down his face to clean him up a little bit.

“Again? You wish”

He scoffs loudly this time, rolling his eyes at your words, before wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you even closer to him.

“Think anyone saw us?”

He asks after you sit in silence for a moment, your body rising and falling with his chest, your fingers scratching the back of his neck gently, his hands on your lower back under the fabric of the dress, thumbs brushing softly over your skin.

You shrug, not really sure if it honestly matters much to you.

“The car behind us at the stop light?”

He laughs loudly, looking off to the side, out the window and back at you.

“Yeah, shit. S'what i though too.”

You breathe out a laugh and shrug your shoulders.

“Well, if they did, then…lucky them, I guess.”

Shane nods, approving of your answer with a quiet chuckle, and you smile at the sound.

“Lucky them.”

He repeats before sighing loudly.

“Christ…don't know how we didn't fucking crash.”

He mumbles, holding your hand as you stand up and pull off of his cock before falling back onto your seat before he slowly and gently tucks his cock back into him boxers then pulls his jeans up.

“Should we try the party still?”

He asks, watching you lean down to pick something up from the floor.

“Eeeh I don't know.”

You state, not even turning to face him before hanging your lacy black panties over the mirror before turning to face him again.

“Your choice Walsh. We still have a bit to go."

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh smut #jon bernthal #shane walsh fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #jon bernthal smut

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jordyn14 · 29 days

Text

Don’t Think, Just Do | Joe burrow

Summary: Right after Joes season ending injury, he decided to have Thanksgiving dinner like always with his family. During the dinner, It seems like everything had to go wrong before it could go right.

Pairing: Joe burrow x first person fem reader

Words: 4343

Notes: this fic takes place after Joes season ending injury, so if you’re not interested, please just skip. I hope you enjoy!! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

It was finally Thanksgiving, which meant for the entire day, the smell of delicious food flooded the house. Like most of us already know, Joe hates turkey, so for every thanksgiving we have been together for, ham has been on the menu. There was currently a ham in the oven, along with mac and cheese that was in the fridge waiting for me to put it in the oven, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, and cheesy potatoes, all of which Joe helped make. The entire day was spent making the foods for dinner tonight. On thanksgiving every year, there is always a semi big gathering. Among those people are Joe's parents, Joe's grandparents, and Joe's brothers and their wives and kids. Because of everything that's been going on and the stress of picking out a doctor for joes surgery, we were all a little unsure of how thanksgiving was going to be, but Joe insisted that it needed to be the same as every year, and this year, since we just moved into our new house, we were having it over our house.

Every single food on the menu was done and either in the oven or in the fridge that was going to be heated up prior to dinner, so right now Joe and I were making the dough for the pumpkin pie. Usually I would stick to the lazy and easy side of things and use a premade crust, but since it was thanksgiving and Joe deserves it, I was making a homemade crust. Because we made sure to start everything early, we were right on track to have the pumpkin pie in the oven just in time for the guests to start arriving since everyone came about an hour or two before we ate dinner. In the background, the song New Person, Same Old Mistakes, by Tame Impala started to play from Joes speaker. Joe has some songs on his playlist that I don't like since I don't like a lot of rap songs, but he has a few that I really love, and this is one of them. I never knew about tame impala until he introduced me to them a few years ago, and now I love them.

I started to bop my head to the song and move my body to the rhythm of the song while putting the dough into the pie container. I moved my shoulders and body to the beat, and soon Joe joined in and started to dance with me a little bit. I couldn't help it, I loved this song. I grabbed the rolling pin that I set down after rolling out the dough and held it up like it was a microphone. "I can just hear them now, 'how could you let us down?' But they don't know what I found, or see it from this way round." I started to sing into my 'microphone' while dancing some more and walking around the island. "Oh yeah, now it's gettin' lit." Joe laughed and grabbed onto a spoon so he could sing the next lyrics. "Feeling it overtake, all that I used to hate. One by one every trait I tried, but it's way too late. All the signs I don't read. Two sides of me can't agree. Will I be in too deep?" Joe sang and gestured to me to sing this next part.

While we sang, we were a laughing mess. The both of us sucked at singing, although we loved to sing. "Going with what I always longed for...feel like a brand new person." I sang. "But you'll make the same old mistakes." Joe sang the next part that was quieter. "I don't care, I'm in love." I sang while making a little heart sign with my hands at Joe. I spun in a little circle and reached Joe who grabbed ahold of my hand and raised it above my head so I could spin. "Stop before it's too late, I know there's too much at stake." I sang. "Making the same mistakes." Joe sang. After he sang this, I prepared myself for the next high note and sang, "and I still don't know why it's happening." The both of us laughed, knowing I totally butchered the high note.

When the song was over and we sang pretty much the whole song, give or take a few lines that we missed while we danced, we went back to making our pumpkin pie. Once we were all done with it, Joe stuck it in the oven and I sat myself down on the island counter and kicked my feet while waiting, my stomach growling a little bit. Joe looked at me sitting on the island and started to walk my way. I spread my legs apart so Joe could step between them, so when he did, I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively and pulled him closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his soft hair. Joe put his hands on my waist.

"I love Thanksgiving so much, mostly for the food" I laughed. Joe nodded with a sigh and kissed my lips. "I love any day I get to spend with my wife." Joe said. My cheeks flushed red and butterflies soared through my stomach. "Damn, you fluster so easily." Joe said with a little chuckle. "It's the Joe Sheisty effect, I swear." I laughed. "Ah, okay, we can go with that." Joe joked. The both of us looked into each others eyes for a second too long until our eyes shifted to each others lips and then back up to each others eyes. After a few seconds, Joe leaned forwards and captured my lips in his. I turned my head to the right for easier access as our lips moved in perfect harmony, like they were made for each other. As we kissed, Joe slipped one of his hands under my shirt. I let out the faintest moan when his cold hands hit my skin, not expecting the cold, and I arched my back slightly.

With his hand under my shirt, he began to run his cool fingers up and down my back as we kissed. With the other hand, he brought it up and cupped my cheek. I ran my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, down to his biceps, then his back muscles. Our hands explored each other's body's as if we hadn't touched each other in years and forgot what we felt like. Joe released my lips and began to kiss my jaw which then turned into my neck. Joe began to suck and kiss at my neck, making sure not to stay in one place too long and leave magenta marks. I sucked in a small breath at the feeling of his lips on my neck and leaned my head back slightly as Joe moved my hair out of his way. I repeatedly let out soft moans. I felt his teeth graze my soft skin before he got to the spot that always felt amazing. He began to suck and kiss even more, knowing this was my spot. I let out a few more soft moans, loving the feeling and not wanting him to ever stop.

"You are the most gorgeous woman in this entire universe," Joe said, taking his hips off of my neck for a second, "in any universe." His lips attached to my neck once again as butterflies fluttered their tiny wings in my stomach at Joes words of affirmation. I started to lift up my skirt for easy access while Joe leaned back slightly. Just as Joe started to unbuttoned his pants and unzip them, I heard a car pull into the driveway. "Shit." Joe and I said at the same time. "Shit." We both said again once we realized what we were about to do. Joe zipped his pants back up quickly while I situated my panties and then jumped down from the counter. We both laughed at how in sync we were and then I looked down at Joes hard-on. "Do you think you can really be in front of your family like that?" I asked Joe with a small smirk, knowing he didn't fully realize yet. He probably felt it, but didn't realize how bad it was. "What do you mean? I thought you liked this shirt." Joe said. I couldn't help but laugh at Joe and how he was so unaware of what was going on. "Do you really want your family to know what we were doing before they got here?" I asked Joe.

Joe just raised an eyebrow out of confusion and said, "how would they know?" I slapped my forehead a little bit and then said, "you have a fucking boner Joe." I started to laugh when Joes eyes got all wide and looked down to see the tent in his pants that was gradually getting bigger. "Shit." Joe said quickly and covered himself with his hands. "Go upstairs and take care of...that," I said, gesturing to the tent in his pants, "and I'll go get the door for whoever is here and tell them that you spilled something on yourself and needed to change." I said. "This is your fault." Joe said with a little laugh as he started to run up the stairs. "What? You started it" I laughed. Just as I started following Joe to the stairs that were near the door, someone knocked at the door. "If you weren't so gorgeous, I wouldn't get horny." Joe said just before he turned and started to sprint up the stairs.

I shook my head with a laugh and then walked to the door. I unlocked it and then opened it up to greet whoever was standing outside of it. My face lit up when my eyes landed on Robin and Jimmy, who of course were the first ones here, like always. "Hello my favorite daughter in law! Oh, the house looks amazing!" Robin said and pulled me into a ginormous and tight hug. "Thank you!" I said and smiled at Jimmy who was looking at the place with a big smile on his face. After I hugged Robin, I hugged Jimmy and then I invited them inside. After I invited them in, Jimmy was holding in a laugh on the side of Robin who started laughing. "What? Come in!" I said, excited that they were going to be in this house for the first time since it's been decorated since we just moved in a week ago.

"I think you got a little something on your, uh-chest." Robin said, her face slightly red from laughing. I looked down at my chest to see Joes hand print he made with the flour that I was totally oblivious to. I brushed the flour off of my shirt as fast as I could while my face flushed red out of embarrassment. I moved to the side so Robin and Jimmy could walk in and then shut the door behind them with a little sigh and said to myself, "you're an idiot." When I turned back around, I gave a quick smile to Robin and Jimmy who were still calming their laughter after what they saw. "Where's my son? Don't tell me he's playing video games." Robin said. "He's upstairs changing, he spilled something on himself." I said. "Flour?" Jimmy said with a laugh.

With a little groan and then a laugh, I walked past them and they followed me to the living room. Because I knew more people would want to see The house in its entirety, I waited to give the tour of the house until everyone showed up. When Joe came down, he greeted his parents and then one by one, more people arrived. First, it was Jamie and his wife Stella, and their son Justin, and then Dan and his wife Jenna, and their daughters Penelope and Emily, then Joe's grandparents. Once everyone was here, I gave them a tour of the house while Joe got all of the food ready and brought it to the dining room table. Through most of the tour, there were ooh's and awe's, especially in the game and bar area downstairs and the movie theatre. When we were done with the tour, we made our way to the living room where we talked for a little bit and then we finally decided it was time for dinner.

We all sat down and started eating right away, all of us starving because we made sure to save lots of room for food. There were conversations all around the dinner table between multiple different people, but I was currently talking with Jenna and Robin about Jenna's new therapist job that she just got. She was working for a smaller company, but after a lot of consideration, she decided to move to a bigger company. "I was just unhappy at my old job and this new one offers a lot more than the other place...and the money isn't bad either." Jenna said with a little smirk and head tilt at the end. "Girl go get that bag. Plus, life's too short to be miserable in any aspect of it." I said with a little shrug, justifying her decision. "Amen to that." Robin said and pretended to cheers her wine and then took a hearty sip.

As the dinner went on, I noticed that Joe started clenching his jaw next to me, obviously agitated by something. I was initially worried that his hand was bothering him, but realized that for a lot of the dinner, Jamie has been constantly talking about Joe's injury. He wants to know more about it like where he's getting the surgery, if he knew he was done for the season when he felt it pop, how much it hurt, among other things. Also for a lot of the dinner, Joe's been trying to change the subject by giving short responses and then talking about something else, but it always came back to Jamie asking about the injury or football in general. "How is rehab going to work this time? You going to the same place in Cali like you did with your knee or staying here?" Jamie asked Joe. From the end of the table closest to me where Robin was, and the other end where Jimmy was, I could tell they knew Joe was agitated, but it seemed like Jamie couldn't tell.

The last thing I wanted was for Joe to blow up or say something that would make Jamie mad. Then that would lead to Jamie getting upset, and then the whole night would be either ruined or just awkward. "Yeah, I don't know. Still trying to figure that all out." Joe said, his voice sounding upset and annoyed. When Joe said this, he reached up and started rubbing the back of his neck, clenching and unclenching his jaw some more. Glancing down, I reached for his hand in his lap and then gave it a small squeeze when I got it in my hand. Joe glanced at me with a small and thankful smile before looking straight ahead so he could take another bite of his food. "Did you know right away how bad it was?" Jamie asked him from across the table. Instead of answering his question this time, Joe adverted his attention to his dad and asked him something that I couldn't quite make out.

Since Joe got away from the football talk, I turned my attention back over to Robin, Jenna, and Stella since we were all talking about the house. "Hey mommy?" Emily asked who was sitting next to Jenna. "Yes sweetheart?" She asked and tucked a piece of hair behind Emily's ear. "Can I have more stuffing?" She asked. "Of course you can." Jenna said and scooped some more stuffing on her plate. I smiled down at Emily who shoved a ton of stuffing into her mouth while looking at me. "How do you think the Bengals are going to do without you?" Jamie asked. Whipping my head over towards Jamie, I was about to say something but Joe smashed his left hand on the table, making everyone jump a little bit, shocked at his reaction. From the hard contact, all of the glasses on the table shook like crazy; I even grabbed onto mine just incase it decided to tip over.

"Can we talk about something other than football for one god damn second?" Joe raised his voice. We all looked at Joe as he stood up from the table abruptly and then stormed out of the dining room and towards the living room. I watched Joe walk away before he left my sight. The only thing I heard other than our forks dropping on our plates was the sliding back door open and then close with a lot of force. With a little sigh, I turned my attention back towards the table where everyone was trying to act like nothing happened and continue thanksgiving dinner. From everything that was going on, I felt tears prick my eyes. Trying to keep myself from crying, I lifted my hand up and put it under my nose, trying anything to calm myself down. Robin, seeing that I was a little emotional, reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a little squeeze. Looking over at her, she gave me a reassuring smile.

"Geez, what did I do? I didn't think I said anything bad." Jamie said while he wiped his mouth off. From across from him, his grandparents and wife were about to say something to Jamie, obviously angry with him, but I intervened. "This is his second season ending injury in 4 years, he is frustrated right now, and talking about football doesn't help. The only reason he told me that he still wanted to have this dinner was because he thought it would be a good way to forget about his injury, but instead, that's all you're talking about. Put yourself in his shoes and cut him some fucking slack, Jamie." I said. I dropped Robins hand that was holding mine and left the table, storming off just like Joe did. "What the hell are you thinking, Jamie?" I heard Jimmy ask Jamie. "Please wait." Robin called after me as I walked out of the dining room.

After I walked out of the dining room, I headed towards the back door so I could go to Joe and see if he was okay. As soon as I looked outside, I saw Joe sitting down on the couch which was surrounded by the other patio furniture we needed to prepare for winter. Joe was staring straight ahead. Looking at his expression, I could tell he was upset but trying to hide it. Ever since his injury, he’s been closed off, which is typical for him during an injury. We haven’t even really talked about it yet because I always let him come to me instead of me pushing him to talk to me about it. As soon as I slid the door open a little bit, Joe immediately looked up to see who was walking outside. When he saw that it was me, he gave me a small smile and scooted over so he was on one side of the couch and then patted the side next to him, wanting me to sit next to him. "Why didn't you stay and eat? You didn't have to come out here." Joe said.

I walked over to him and then sat down right next to him. Once I did, Joe put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. "Yes I did, plus, I kind of went off on your brother, so it would've been awkward if I stayed." We both laughed for a few seconds before I rested my head on Joes shoulder. There was a moment of silence before I spoke up, "are you okay?" I asked Joe. There was a definite sigh from above me as I pulled away slightly to look into his eyes, but we both kept our arms around one another. I could tell that he was carrying a lot of stress and anxiety. He was tensed up and doing his best to hold back, but I knew if I put a little bit of pressure, the flood gates would open up, and that’s what he needed right now. He needed to talk about it.

"Are you okay?" I repeated as a tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek only to get caught by my hand that quickly wiped it away. As I looked into Joes eyes, I noticed that he was trying his best not to cry, but I knew he wanted to. I knew he wanted to open up and talk about his pent up emotions but was struggling to. "I'll be fine. After my surgery I'll get back at it, just like with my knee." Joe said, but his bottom lip started to quiver slightly. His voice was shaky, his eyes were glistening with tears, and his breathing was heavy and uneven. He was trying so hard to hold back. "Joey, tell me how you really feel, it's okay." I said and ran my fingers through his hair slightly.

With a gentle shake of his head, Joe bit his bottom lip to hide the small quiver and said, "I can't feel sorry for myself, and I don't want you to feel sorry for me either." I brought my hands up and cupped the sides of his cheeks, making him look over at me. “Opening up and showing a little bit of emotion doesn’t mean you have to feel sorry for yourself. This is a big deal, Joe, and holding back your emotions is only going to make it worse. You have to let it out before you can move on." I said. Joe took a deep breath and sealed his eyes shut. His shoulders dropped low and he eventually let a few tears slip from his eyes which rolled down his rosy cheeks. Joe let out a shaky breath and bit the inside of his cheek. “I just came back from an injury...I just started to feel 100% again and was ready to prove that to everyone," Joe started to say, "Now I'm out for the season, and it feels terrible. I feel like I was just down on the field after fucking up my knee and missing the rest of the season, now I have to miss the rest of this season." Joe said.

"I get it, Joey." I said, encouraging him to keep going. "This past offseason and training camp I was supposed to be healthy, but I hurt my calf. So, I hoped that this next offseason and training camp I would be 100% healthy, but once again, I won't be. I will have to go back to rehab for yet again another injury...but this time I don't even know if I'll get 100% of my strength and grip back." Joe said, more tears escaping his eyes as he poured out all of his emotion that he had, until there was nothing left. Joe said everything that he was keeping bottled up inside of him. After staring at the ground for a few seconds, he finally looked up and into my eyes. We held eye contact for a few seconds. We both didn't move, we just looked at each other while we both cried and took deep breaths. "It's going to be okay." I said.

"How do you know?" Joe asked me. With a deep breath, I said what I truly felt. I let my heart instead of my head do the talking. "You are Joseph Lee Burrow. You came back from your hand surgery and being the backup to the backup. You came came back from your sprained knee. You came back for the first game of the season after appendix surgery just a few months prior and made it to the AFC championship. You played with a messed up calf and still managed to pull out some wins. You tore your ACL, MCL, and PCL your first ever year in the NFL, worked your ass off every single day to get better and made it to the Super Bowl. The fucking Super Bowl, Joe. You are incredible and there is nothing you can't do, I believe that and everyone else does too. You should to. No one is expecting you to be 100% right now, so you can sulk for a little bit, because this sucks. I know it does. I know how hard it is to be in this spot again after everything you've conquered. I also know that when you're done sulking, you're going to grind and work hard every single day until this is a thing of the past." I told him.

"You are so strong Joseph Lee Burrow, physically and mentally. I know you will work hard and never give up on rehab, no matter how hard it is for you. It's hard? Suck it up. You’re strong enough to do this. And I'll be here every step of the way just like always. All you have to do is believe in yourself." I said. "I just keep worrying and thinking that-" Joe started to say but I cut him off. I placed my forehead on his and said, "Just Stop thinking, Joe. Don't think, Just Do.” I started to stroke Joes cheek as he processed everything I said, and then he said, "You said that to me about colleges on our first date and when I was on the fence about LSU and when I hurt my knee and then after the Super Bowl." Joe smiled slightly. "Exactly, now look where you are. What's another setback?" I asked him. Joe took a deep breath and nodded a little bit while maintaining eye contact with me. "Alright." Joe said.

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kaleldobrev · 4 months

Text

In the Cover of the Night

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Felix Catton

Summary: Felix fingering you on the steps in the middle of the night

Word Count: 939

Warnings: Cursing (5x), Smoking (Brief), Smut (Fingering - Semi-Public) & Praise Kink (Implied)

Authors Note: Semi-public sex tag as this is taking place outside | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

There was a slight summer breeze as you sat out on the steps with a lit cigarette between your fingers, looking up at the almost full moon in the starry night sky. You were severely under dressed to be outside this time of night; only wearing one of Felix's light dress shirts with absolutely nothing else underneath, as it was the first piece of clothing you had managed to find from the scattering of clothes on yours and his floor from the needy and desperate sex the two of you engaged in after yet another Catton dinner party.

As you placed the cigarette into your mouth, you turned your attention to yours and Felix's bedroom; the darkness completely consuming the space — the moonlight trying it's best to make it's way into the room but ultimately failing because of the curtains completing covering the windows.

You heard footsteps coming from behind you, and you turned to see who it could be. Your first thought was Venetia as she would usually be the one to come and spend time with you this time of night; the two of you often enjoying staring up at the moon together. But it was Felix who was making his way toward you with an already lit cigarette in hand wearing just his robe and nothing else. "Were you peeping at me before you decided to come and join me?" You asked, as your boyfriend took a seat on the same steps your feet were placed on.

“For a bit. You look very tempting like this; couldn’t help myself,” he smiled, popping the cigarette between his lips.

"I was just having a little smoke and looking up at the moon. What's so tempting about me this way?" You asked as innocently as you possibly could while nonchalantly starting to part your legs, and putting out your cigarette on the steps.

You noticed his eyes starting to move from your own to your legs as he placed a single hand on your thigh, smirking as he did so. “You’re wearing one of my shirts with no panties on, love,” he stated. As he spoke, his hand moved up your thigh slowly, stopping at the hem of the dress shirt. “And you know how much I love fucking you in my clothes,” he added, keeping that signature smirk of his on his lips.

He removed the cigarette from between his lips, and put it out in a spot next to yours before his fingertips started to inch their way higher so they were completely underneath the shirt. He brushed them ever so slightly against your clit, and you were starting to get wet from the insanely brief contact that he was giving you. You used to be embarrassed by this, embarrassed by how turned on he had made you by barely doing anything; how instantly there would be such a pool between your legs the second he even remotely looked in your direction. But as time went on, you didn’t care, didn’t care because you knew how much he loved having this kind of effect on you, because you had the exact same effect on him.

“Always so ready for me,” he whispered; two fingers running up and down your clit. “Want to fuck you just like this,” he whispered again, his fingertips still teasing the outside.

“Then do it,” you stated; and his smirk grew even wider — you didn’t think it could get any wider. He didn’t say anything in response; he simply just started dipping his two fingers inside of you, starting to fill you with the sensation you always seemed to crave. Despite having sex with him only a few hours prior, you would never get tired of the feeling of him filling you up.

Your head automatically went back and you shut your eyes; but it was so brief as his other hand went to your jaw, making you focus on his face. His fingers went in deeper, slightly curling. “Lift up the shirt a little so you can look,” he said, an octave above a whisper. “Want you to see how beautiful you look like this.”

Without hesitation, you did as you were told, and lifted the hem of the shirt more, your pussy completely exposed out in the open as you watched his fingers disappearing and reappearing inside of you — the moonlight providing the most erotic looking type of light. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, and he finally leaned in to capture your lips; which caused his fingers to go even deeper inside of you. You moaned into his mouth as you kissed; his fingers starting to pick up the pace just only slightly. Your moans were so muffled, and that's one of the things he had loved when it came to fucking you like this out in the open. He loved how you tried so hard to remain quiet, but always failed.

You started to clench around him, and he smirked into the kiss. "Does my girl need to come?" He whispered in your ear; slightly nipping at your earlobe before starting to kiss your neck.

"Yes," you moaned out, as he continued to suck and kiss your neck — ultimately wanting to leave hickies on your skin.

"Then come," he said softly, his lips attaching themselves to your chest; almost peppering kisses just below your collarbone.

With a few more pumps, your whole body started to shudder as you came; but his movements didn't let up as he helped you ride out your orgasm. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come," he praised against your skin. He always praised you.

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#felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #saltburn #saltburn one shot #saltburn imagine #saltburn drabble #saltburn drabbles #felix x you #felix x reader #reader insert #female reader #felix catton

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lessi-lover · 6 months

Text

jealous darling? II l.williamson ~

06 ★ l. williamson

your heart swelled with pride whenever you watched your favourite blonde play, especially in those times when the defender had her best moments. there was a magnetic energy about her on the pitch, she was nothing short of extraordinary on the field, a force to be reckoned with in the world of football. her skills were unparalleled, and her determination was unmatched. with a ball at her feet, she gracefully glided across the grass, making every movement seem effortless, yet incredibly precise.

today, she played exceptionally well, making smart passes and moving up the pitch when needed, showcasing her ability in all areas of the sport. you had always enjoyed watching the game from afar, but seeing her play brought an entirely new level of joy towards the english sport. as the match ended with a 4-1 score, you joined the other family of the players on the pitch to celebrate the win. wearing her number and name proudly on your back, you couldn't help but beam as you spotted her jumping up and down with her teammates. her face lit up upon seeing you, and she climbed over the barrier with a large grin that showed her post-match high.

"you were outstanding, as always, williamson," you complimented her as she reached you. her smile widened at your words, but not before telling you off for the replacement of her favourite name, - babe. feeling like you were sorry enough, she leaned in and smashed her lips against yours for a special celebration kiss. "your into the semi's!" you exclaimed joyously, her excitement visible from head to toe. "and you're wearing my shirt," she responded, clearly delighted at your choice of clothing. you giggled at her energy, her gaze never wavered from you, admiration evident on her features.

she pulled you in close to her arms, voice carrying a sense of intimacy that made your stomach flip. "couldn’t have done it without you my girl," she murmured against your lips, her proud smile never doubtful.

"it was all you, my love. I just showed up," you chuckled, reaching up to peck her still red and puffy cheeks. "you played so well." "thankyou," she blushed slightly at your praise, grin never fading as she tucked her head tightly into your shoulder. "did you enjoy the game?" she asked, her eyes searching for any sign that you hadn’t had fun. it was her caring nature that made you love her ten times more.

"always. i love watching you play, leah," you replied and her heart swelled at your confession. ”Cmon, let's get out here.” she whispered into your ear, quickly collecting your stuff and making your way out of the stands.

_____________

the celebrations continued for hours after the game, many of the arsenal crew - including you and leah, had organised to have a gathering in a quiet bar you were all familiar with. unfortunately, this resulted in a lot of alcohol being passed around, which meant the majority of the celebrants were teetering on the edge of full-blown drunkenness, something the blonde wasn’t too fond of participating in the middle of a season.

you found yourself heavily engaged in an intense debate on why spitting on the pitch is a complete ick, between the new ‘it couple’ of the arsenal squad - caitlin & katie. “it’s not on purpose, it just happens.” katie defended, her accent somehow even thicker at the unhealthy amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night. revelling in the playful banter you were able to create, you added that “it’s not impossible to not do it," and that you had successfully managed to get your stubborn girlfriend to quit it. amidst the laughter and lively conversation, you felt a pair of familiar hands wrap tightly around your hips.

"leah!" katie greeted her. "have you come to save me from your dreadful girlfriend? I swear all she does is complain." katie joked, jabbing you lightly in the shoulder, which resulted in a glare from you. "she's gorgeous, so watch your mouth miss yellow card." leah retorted, referring to the yellow card the left-winger had received in the game against brighton.

"i'm afraid I have to end your little debate though, sorry girls." katie grabbed caitlin's hand leading them away, but not before brushing passed the blonde, whispering something in her ear. her grip became more and more possessive, as she pulled you even closer into her body. she led you away, pulling you into an empty room, seeking a little bit of quietness, all the loud bar sounds. making it hard for you to hear each other "what's wrong, my love?" you asked, trying to remember what happened during the night, if anything had upset your favourite girl. she held you firmly, arms tightly secured around your waist. "you're mine." she murmured against your neck, her tone possessive yet still loving. "i only want you to celebrate with me.” Her voice carried a subtle pout, eyes fixated on you as though you were her entire world - you were.

"feeling possessive today, are we?" you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. leah made a dismissive noise, clearly unfazed by your sudden brattiness, - she'd deal with that later. “stupid katie," she muttered, peppering soft kisses on your collarbones. "what did she say to you?" you questioned, intrigued at whatever the blonde would say next. "don’t worry about it, not important," she replied, obviously more engaged in making out with your neck, instead of answering you. snd there it was, clear as day, - jealousy. s newfound trait, which intrigued you to try and see how far the girl would go. "jealous, darling?" you teased, your eyes glinting playfully. “it’s baby to you.” she scolded. amused by her sudden possessiveness, you continued to tease her, your grin unwavering. "perhaps you're just jealous because you've never outplayed katie in the midfield," you said, the smile on your face matching your teasing tone.

how much could you wind up the blonde you wondered."you're mine, don’t forget it." she responded simply, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

#leah williamson #woso blurbs #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #woso

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pirateprincessblog · 10 days

Text

the other man

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: READ PART ONE HERE, also not completely proofread because i've been so tired and bloated these days i have no energy :( feel free to message me about mistakes!

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after finding out you were used by your brother to get rid of someone he simply didn't like, you go on a break. every time you see that place or the man, you get reminded of another one who hugged your legs while on his knees, before he was dragged to his downfall. just why can't you escape it, no matter how hard you try? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x f!reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: prison theme, criminal!mingi, prisoner!mingi, doctor!reader, evilbrother!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: semi public oral (f!receiving)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gore, v*olence, swearing, stalking, m*rder

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"no! no, god, no! please!"

"get off me."

"please, please! yunho, please!"

"get" smack "the fuck" smack "off me!" smack.

you fall on the floor, knees hurting from being dragged across the floor all the way to his office, and cheeks red from all the hitting. you don't let go of his shirt yet, the fabric securely scrunched between your fingers.

"i'll do anything," you wipe your tears with your elbow, "anything!"

"anything?" he raises an eyebrow, lowering his hand that was about to land on you one more time.

a glint of hope appears in your eyes, and you straighten your posture. still on your knees, you put your palms together, ready to beg more. "yes, anything."

yunho is silent for a few moment, looking at you with an unreadable expression. and it kills you, that he can mask emotions so well. he crouches, getting down to your level. he cups your jaw in his big hand, and you suddenly feel shivers running down your spine.

"come with me."

his gentle touch turns into a painful one, his hand moving from your face to your hair in a split second. he drags you across the hallway, into the elevator, and throws you against the mirror wall. you barely have time to reach for the little pole to hold onto, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts you so that you stand up.

"listen to me."

"please-"

"listen to me!" he grabs your face again, fingers digging into your cheeks and making your lips purse. "you act like a whore, you'll get treated like one. hell, i'll let everyone have their way with you, if that's what you want. but do not interfere with my work. never, ever again."

"but i-"

"have i made myself fucking clear?!"

"yes, yes!"

he finally loosens his grip, making your body slide down the wall and find peace on the floor. he punches the floor number, then leans on the elevator door. you look up at him, disgust and resentment painting your face. you hope the doors open and he falls head first on something sharp.

"don't look at me like that. this isn't my fault."

if only you could say something back, but fear has swallowed you whole. so you stay there, resorting in only sending him glares.

"frankly, it's not mingi's fault either."

"don't say his name, you don't get to-"

"it's your fault."

"it's not."

"oh, but it is. see, i warned you, little sissy. but you just don't know how to listen."

the doors open, luckily for him. you stand up, following him down a poorly lit hallway. you pass multiple metal doors, with a small window on top of each. until you stop by one right at the end. you gasp, then scream, along with the person inside. it echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and torturing you.

"no, no!" you scream, trying to turn around. but yunho holds you still in front of the window, making you watch as mingi gets sat on a chair you thought you'd never see in real life. "god, please, please!"

"i said i'd make you watch."

"mr jeong!"

"watch."

"mr jeong!"

the voice gets closer, and mingi has more belts holding him with each second that passes. one of the guards stands aside, waiting for the final belt to be secured across his chest, before putting a metal electrode cap on his head.

"mr jeong!"

"what, what, what?!" he yells, letting go of you and turning towards the young guard running towards him. "do you wish to fucking join him?! how dare you interrupt-"

"inspection, mr jeong."

yunho takes a step back, breath halting for a moment. your fingers hopelessly scratch at the tiny window, eyes burning with tears as you watch the strapped man stop struggling and accept his fate. he doesn't look at you, but you know he hears you. he grimaces at your wails, avoids your gaze, and silently cries.

"fuck! go back to your position, tell barnes to start protocol b."

"what about protocol a?"

"are they in the building already?"

"yes...?"

"then, it's too late for that. protocol b starts now. block the doors as soon as the execution is done, and get rid of the evidence through the gate f." yunho then grabs you by your elbow, throwing you into the guard. "take her to elijah, let him escort her to my house. no witnesses."

the young guard nods, then guides you away from the doors. yunho opens the door, for a split second letting mingi's pained moans and wails escape the room of torture. it shatters your heart, weakens your knees, and makes you want to vomit right there. the ground sways under your feet as you try to reach the exit, the sign section Z being the last thing you see before collapsing.

when you open your eyes again, it feels like your lungs are on fire. you have been crying in your sleep, dried lines on your cheeks being proof of that. you remember waking up for a few seconds, elijah making you drink a sip of water before helping you into your bed again.

now, it is almost four in the afternoon, and you feel as if you dreamt the whole thing. but when you see elijah's note on the nightstand, you are reminded of the grey reality. the note states that yunho has ordered you lunch, and that it is in the fridge. barefoot, still in yesterday's clothes, you walk downstairs to the kitchen. you open the fridge, finding a plate of steak with grilled asparagus and mashed potatoes, along with a little bottle of orange juice. how kind of him to order you his favorite meal.

you scrunch the paper in your hand, anger making your vision red. you take the plate out, then set it on the kitchen counter. as you cut into it, you realize it is rare, blood dripping from it and soaking the mashed potatoes. it is like irony, red staining the yellow just like mingi's blood stained your dress in the cafeteria. is it some sort of a cruel joke coming from yunho? did he want you to feel sick and not eat? you slam the knife into the steak multiple times, ruining it and sending red drops of liquid everywhere. you slam your fist into the mashed potatoes, then take the asparagus and throw them at the white wall. the juice bottle shares the same fate, the knife piercing through it and letting the yellow juice drip on the marble tiles.

before you know it, the kitchen is coated in the sticky liquid, walls are poked with whatever your hand could grab, and the living room became the new victim. the recently bought leather couches were ripped open, cozy cushions no longer cozy, but only balls of cotton and feathers, and the glass coffee table was only a skeleton now, the glass shattered and digging into the rug.

you sit in the middle of it, pieces of collectible vases, statues and painting surrounding you. the sight is an invitation for yunho to strangle you right then and there. but you don't give him a chance. you gather clothes into your backpack, hygienic things and his spare wallet, then take his most favorite car out of five of them. you don't leave before keying the other four, despite the weird glances your neighbors throw you. you only smile at them, then nod your head as a greeting. they must think you are crazy. you can't wait until they tell yunho on you.

you have found peace in a cozy little hotel in a town nearby. you don't use his cards, in case he tries to track them down. he has enough cash to keep you there for at least a year. besides, you're already looking for a new job. working in a coffee shop seems promising. the fact that you know nothing but an espresso and hot chocolate doesn't seem to bother the manager. your eagerness to learn is enough for her to consider you a candidate.

if yunho has tried reaching out to you, you don't know. you got rid of your old phone, immediately upgrading to the newest one, with a fresh number. you didn't try finding out about him either. you don't care. you only hope elijah didn't get punished for your actions. after all, he only brought you home.

the hotel room is a bit cozier now that you've added your little decorations. from fake vines and fairy lights you bought from the dollar store, to expensive books and posters you got from the bookstore down the street. it is only temporary, until you decide exactly what you wish to do with your life. you've lived in yunho's shadow, having him decide for you and write out your future without asking you. and you never questioned it, really. did you dislike it at times? yes, you did. did you dare say anything? no, hell no. now that you have freedom, you are lost. yunho was always the one guiding you, and now you were alone.

"you're hired!" you hear the very next day, as you sit drenched in nervous sweat.

you breathe out, relief washing over your body. finally, a start. the first paycheck has you almost crying. people really live like this? the second one isn't a complete shock like the first one, but it could be better. by the third one, you have already accepted that you cannot live lavishly anymore. so you stop visiting the bookstore, stop buying pastries after your shift, and start cooking yourself. you didn't know it would be this hard. but it is too late to back down now. there is no way you're going back to yunho, not if you want to live.

"hey, can you help me out? it's like everyone made a decision to sit in my section today!"

your coworker is drowning in tickets, loose strands of hair falling out of her once perfect bun, and her apron is already smudged. you nod, hurriedly running over to the tables that have just sat down, again, in her section. your section is quiet, mainly because the sun is hitting it and it is way too hot to sit there.

three tables are done, and you have only one left. the man sits alone, typing something on his laptop. hopefully he didn't notice how long he had to wait. you finally approach it, eyes not leaving your notepad. "i am so sorry for the wait, we didn't expect the rush so early."

"no worries, i understand."

time stops around you, only the two of you stuck in a bubble. your fingers hold the notepad, losing colour in the tips from how hard you're gripping it. you gulp, audibly, before lowering the pad and locking eyes with brown ones. you almost run, seeing the bone chilling smile on his face.

"yunho." you gasp, fear swallowing you whole.

"iced americano, please."

you clear you throat, and finally write it down. "right. anything else?"

"no, that would be all." he goes back to typing on his laptop.

you are scared to pass by him, but remember that you are in a crowded space. he wouldn't do anything here, would he?

"oh, right."

"y-yes?" you turn around.

"a pistachio doughnut to go."

"right away."

shakily, you prepare the order. even the manager gives you a side eye, not used to that behaviour. but she doesn't say anything, assuming that you are just tired since it's almost the end of your morning shift.

"hey, could you please give this to table-"

"oh my god, i'm so sorry, but i can't. i have like four tables waiting for me, and i still haven't brought out that cookie for table six."

worth a try. you approach the table in the corner, trying to sneak a glance at the laptop screen. but yunho slams it just in time, depriving you of nosiness. you set the cup on the table, along with the paper bag with the doughnut in it.

"thank you." he says, handing you a big bill. "keep the change."

"uh, this is too much-"

"it's fine. you look like you need it."

with that, he sends you another smile and stands up, and if you didn't know him, you'd think it's genuine. but you know it's dripping with venom, and if you were alone with him somewhere, he would snatch you in a split second and have you in that very chair you keep having nightmares about.

"have a good day, miss...?"

"edwards."

"right, miss edwards."

you watch in terror as he exits the shop, not sparing you another glance. fifteen minutes ago, you just couldn't wait for the end of your shift. now? you're dreading it. up until the moment you hang the apron in your locker and gather your things, your hands don't stop shaking. not even when you exit the shop, head frantically turning in search of two brown eyes. walking to the hotel, you have time to think. he hasn't changed much, except a healed scar line near his eye. you wonder what happened. you wonder if the inspection managed to find anything. you hope they did. in revenge for mingi.

"good day, miss edwards." the receptionist greets, a smile always on her face.

"good day, rita."

"ah, that visitor of yours is so cute. is he single?"

you turn abruptly, head almost turning like an owl. "what visitor?"

"oh, the cute one! brown hair, brown eyes, very tall? he was so nice to me, even gave me a tip."

your legs have never been faster, bringing you into your room in under a minute. you barge in, like you were expecting to find your partner with a lover. you drop your work bag on the floor, approaching the unmade bed that you distinctly remember making. there is muddy footsteps all over the floor, and a familiar paper bag on the nightstand. you leave the door open, just in case, before approaching the bed. you take the paper bag in your shaky hands, eyes skimming over the written note on it.

for miss edwards, from her dear brother. miss you. x

the door slams shut, and you jump. the bag drops on the floor, and you squeal, turning around. but nobody is in the room. once you make sure you really are alone, you open the bag. you find the very doughnut you packed. you plop on the bed, scanning the food. it does look like originally packed one, so you bite into it, thinking about your next move. you can't stay here, now that he knows where you are. just how did he find you, anyway?

you take another bite, but this time your teeth stumble upon something hard. you let go after struggling, realizing it is not bits of pistachios, but something more dense. your eyes drop on the pastry, and when you can't decipher what it is, you pull it out, only to throw it on the floor with a scream. it is a chopped off finger, the small fix on tattoo on it very familiar to you. you gasp, hand flying to your mouth to stop a sob from escaping. how cruel, sick and twisted does someone's brain have to be to think of and pull something like this?

not even a week after the incident, you receive a call from your work that a costumer keeps leaving tips for you even when you're not here. the description fits yunho, but you haven't seen him at all. he knows that his name alone is enough to terrify you. this is worse than what you initially thought he'd do if he found you. it is slow torture, and you can't escape it.

you ask for a break, knowing damn well that you are safer there than you are in the hotel. but you keep messing up people's orders, spilling their drinks, and there's always missing cash from the register. your manager almost squealed with joy when you asked her for a few days off. you use the time to start thinking about alternatives. do you move towns again? do you go back to him? do you call police?

all three seem stupid and useless. for now, you'll focus on eating healthy and having some self care days. one thing is clear, if jeong yunho has made it his goal to harm you, he will do it; one way or another. he might be delaying it, toying with the prey before killing it.

you don't go back to work for another week, desperately searching for a way out. but you are bombed with random flowers, presents, and similar things waiting for you when you come back from your daily run. it has become a habit, for you to enter the room and immediately toss the unwanted gift into the hallway. you keep the severed finger in a tissue on the nightstand, each night patting it sleepily and saying good night in your head. crazy, but it is the only part of him you have left. and it makes you feel a little more at ease now that you know he is resting, not in pain. and at least you get to have proper sleep, since yunho never seems to disturb you during the night.

but universe loves to prove you wrong, because you get awoken by the door opening. you sit up straight, still halfway asleep. the person in your room halts, flowers secure in their hand and a hood over their head. you barely have time to react, because the person is quick to put a hand over your mouth. you don't see the face, from the dark and the hood, but you recognize that touch and smell anywhere.

"hush, doctor."

tears roll down your cheeks, horror and relief fighting for dominance in your body. you feel four fingers over your lips, the pinky missing. the very pinky you have in the tissue, now drained of colour.

"it's just me," he whispers, taking the hood off with his free hand. he still holds the flowers, not letting go yet.

you are overwhelmed by emotions. from relief, to fear, to sadness. you jump into his arms, without thinking. but there isn't much to think about. you only need to look into his eyes, to know that you are safe.

"mingi," you finally exhale, head buried into his neck.

"my doctor," he coos, hand rubbing your back as you cry into his hoodie, "my pretty little doctor."

now, you are confused. if mingi is holding the flowers, does it mean he was the one entering the room and leaving you presents? what about the doughnut and the finger? did they run into each other? do they work together now? what if there is a bigger story behind all of this?

"i can hear you thinking, doll."

"i'm sorry, i just-" you sob mid sentence, "i just don't know-" hiccup, "what's going on?"

"come on, lay down with me."

mingi sets the flowers right next to the scrunched tissue, then lays down and opens his arms for you. hesitantly, you lay on his chest, allowing him to wrap his warm arms around your shivering body.

"it is too much for you to handle, i know. you saw me on my death chair, and now i'm here. how about we go to sleep, and i'll tell you all in the morning?"

"no, i can't."

mingi nods, understandingly. "then, i better get to explaining.

when you fainted, yunho was called over, and it was too late for the execution. apparently, they never do it without him. sick bastard likes to watch. so, once again, i was saved by you, unknowingly."

you scoff through tears, hitting his chest gently. "right."

"i managed to fight them off and escape, and yunho had no time to deal with me because he had the inspection at his throat. he found me a little later, tried to kill me, but i managed to flee again. i cut him pretty bad, don't know if you've noticed. i was pretty proud of myself for that."

"near the eye?"

"bingo. glad to know that he has a reminder of me on his stupid face now. just like i have one." he looks down on his injured hand.

"were you the one leaving the presents for me all this time?"

"all this time? how long are we talking?"

"weeks."

mingi stills underneath you. so it isn't him. you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay sane.

"yunho found me."

"oh."

"he gave me your finger."

"he what?!" he sits up straight, visibly distraught. "he fucking what?!"

silently, you reach for the tissue, handing it to him. he takes one glance at it, then at his hand. his expression is unreadable, something between hatred and disappointment. you've never seen him like that.

"he has been terrorizing me since he found me, leaving me creepy presents and stalking me. i don't know what to do."

the man sighs, also thinking. "we could run away."

"where?"

"anywhere. just you and i. to start fresh."

"but you're an escaped convict."

you regret saying that, seeing a hurtful expression on his face. "i was wrongfully imprisoned."

are you finally getting his story from a first hand source? is this the right time to be excited about it? "why? didn't you kill your sister's boyfriend?"

"he deserved it. he was hitting and raping her."

"you aren't the one to decide who gets to live or die."

"and your brother is?"

you move away from him, jaw dropped. "he is not my brother, and you know that."

"you know what? you're the same as him. only using people when you see benefit in them." he spits, getting up from the bed and taking the flowers back.

"how dare you?!"

"watch your tone." his voice is no longer warm and cozy, but cold and stern. he looks at you with ice cold eyes, his posture different. "do not yell at me again, i am warning you now."

"what the hell is wrong with you? it's like you're an entirely different man-"

"i am. i am a free man. away from wrongful convictions, away from the abuse. i am a different, better man."

he steps closer to you, causing you to step back. your back hits the door, hand desperately searching for the door knob. he stops in front of you, mere inches away.

"but you don't want that, do you? you want the vulnerable mingi, the mingi that kneels in front of you and begs for your affection. guess what? things are different now."

this is what yunho was warning you about. and you see it just now. mingi is a criminal. a prisoner. an escaped one now. oh, how you would love for yunho to barge in and save you. but you fucked it up. you had it good, and you didn't even know it.

"that bastard deserved to get his head blown up, and i won't hesitate to do the same to the person that continues terrorizing you. you're mine, you said so yourself."

"i- i thought that was only-"

"what? dirty talk? no, no, my sweet little doctor. you are mine, and mine only." he takes your jaw into his hand, thumb caressing your tear stained cheek. "nobody can have you. nobody but me."

his other hand reaches behind your back, finding the doorknob for you. but instead of opening it, he locks it, then puts the hand on your waist.

"mine." he growls, before pressing his lips against yours.

it doesn't feel right. he is rough, not loving and warm at all. but you go with it, not having any other option available. he doesn't fight you on it, seeing that you aren't as enthusiastic as him. he pulls away, finger still cupping your face.

"come, you need some sleep."

and you listen. you go back to bed, getting into his embrace once again. only this time, it isn't anything like the first time. you fall asleep, scared to death, knowing that you now have two men who are a great danger to you. lovely.

in the morning, you are awakened by kisses on your neck. you rub your eyes, adjusting to the lighting.

"morning, darling."

"morning," you mumble, stretching.

you look down at the man, expecting to find the same possessive and cold gaze from last night. but his eyes are back to soft, and his tone is caring. what in the world?

"sleep well? i hope i didn't kick in my sleep. i tend to do that, since i'm used to sleeping alone and had barnes as my roomie."

"uh, no..." you say, puzzled. does he not remember what happened last night? or does he choose to ignore it?

"i ordered us breakfast. hope you're in the mood for waffles."

"mingi-"

"here," he adjusts your pillow against the bed frame so you can sit up straight, "i'll bring it to you."

you think this is a joke. a trap. is this the calm before the storm? if yes, how do you escape it? seeing mingi set the wooden tray on your lap so carelessly, as if you didn't fall asleep last night startled to death, makes you wonder if you should give yunho a call. would he even take you after the stunt you pulled? you eye the waffles, topped with various berries and honey. a glass of cranberry juice sits in the corner, as inviting as ever. but you don't touch it. you're too busy calculating in your head, even mingi notices your hesitation.

"what? want me to feed you?" the man in front of you jokes, popping a blueberry in his mouth.

when he sees your further lack of reaction and only your focused face, his smile drops. you gulp, hoping that last night won't happen again.

"i get it, i'm acting too normal for the situation we are in. but that's sometimes my only way out; to act like everything is fine. but everything can be fine, if you would just come with me."

"where would we even go?" you dare ask.

"anywhere you want." he replies, reaching for the knife and making you jolt. if he notices, he doesn't react. instead, he plays with it while thinking of his next words. your eyes follow as the tip of his finger runs down the sharp edge, as if determining whether it's sharp enough to use it. "just name it."

"with what money?"

"we'll figure it out. from the looks of it, you aren't doing too bad. i'm guessing you treated yourself with yunho's possessions?"

"you think nobody will recognize you?" you push. "you think yunho hasn't already sent out your photos and-"

"what the fuck is wrong with you all of a sudden?!" mingi roars, flipping the tray of food over and spilling the cranberry juice all over the white sheets. you shriek, then cover your ears as your body drowns into the mattress and beneath the covers. "answer me, dammit!"

his hand grips your wrists, pulling your hands away from your ears so he can yell at you more. you can only close your eyes, in hopes of making him disappear just for a split second.

"i came here knowing the risks, i'm offering to protect you from your awful brother, and i want to love you!"

"mingi please-" you beg through sobs, hands desperately trying to find their place back on your ears.

"why won't you let me love you?!" he then grabs you by your shoulders, shaking you. "answer me!"

the door swings open, hitting the wall with force and shaking your recently decorated shelves. books fall on the ground, but jeong yunho couldn't care less. he steps over them, grabbing mingi and landing a punch on his face. mingi stumbles, but regains his stability and wastes no time in giving yunho a taste of his own medicine. their faces soon match the colour of the spilled juice on the sheets, both of them wiping red trails from their lips and noses.

"get away from her." yunho demands, not having to raise his voice in order to make himself look intimidating. his calm expression as blood runs down his chin and onto his white shirt is scary enough. "now."

"i'm not letting her go back with you. not in that shithole."

"and i'm not letting her go with you."

you sit still on the bed, not moving a muscle and afraid to breathe. both of them look at you at the same time, causing you to squeal and jump out of the bed, legs carrying you to the door. yunho grabs you before mingi can, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe in his hands. you waste no time in wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your soaked face into his ruined shirt.

"i think it's pretty clear where she wants to be." yunho spits, protectively putting a hand on the back of your head and using the other one to push you further against him. "leave now, and i will leave you alone. you won't hear from me ever again. from either of us."

"no. i don't trust you one bit. doll, come back to me." mingi calls, putting his hand out for you to take.

you only glance at him, still in yunho's embrace and eyes full of tears. you shake your head, causing his face to drop. he frowns, then straightens his posture. something snaps inside of him, you see it. and you are grateful to have someone here, otherwise who knows what might've happened. something similar to the previous night, only worse?

"very well. that might be the stupidest decision you've made in your life."

with that, he passes by you, hitting yunho's shoulder in the process and causing you to jolt. but yunho doesn't budge. instead, he waits for the other man to leave before finally pulling away from you. you are overwhelmed by the situation, sobs finally leaving your mouth loud and clear as you try to process what just happened within a day.

"look at me," yunho says, voice soothing. "you're okay. he can't hurt you anymore."

when you only respond with a new fit of sniffs and sobs, he sighs and pulls you into a hug again.

"it's my fault."

"huh?"

"back in the elevator. it's not your fault. it's mine for keeping him alive."

"don't say that."

"you can't possibly- after what he's done to you? you still protect him?" the dark haired man scoffs in disbelief.

"no, i just- i don't like hearing you speak that way. can i just- have a day of not hearing anything about dying or living?"

yunho nods understandingly. "what do you want to do now?"

"what do you mean?" you ask, busying yourself by collecting the ruined sheets and avoiding his gaze.

"do you wish to come back and continue living with me?"

you halt your movements, trying to figure out if he is genuine or not. your eyes find his, and you try to read them as best as you can. but yunho maintains his poker face, causing you to step back.

"no prison, no anything. you can find a different job, i'll help you." he offers, seeing you put your walls up again.

"really?" you ask, not yet convinced.

"really. it's the least i can do." he looks down on the floor, admiring his shoes. "after everything i did to you."

you truly hope he is genuine. if not, well, there's nothing much you can do about it.

"okay."

the house looks the same as before your little renovating process. same pillows, same coffee table, same wallpapers. you forget how filthy rich he is. in contrast, your room was left untouched. messy, just how you left it when packing hurriedly. yunho didn't ask for his wallet or car back. he let you keep it all, even brought you job applications from nearby coffee shops on his way back from work.

"would you like to open your own?" he asks one morning, casually eating his cereal.

"what?!" you shout, causing him to flinch. "sorry, i just- what?"

"your own coffee shop. do you want it?"

"i'm not sure i'm ready for that. it's a lot of responsibility. besides, you'd buy it for me just like that?"

"yes. why not?"

you think about it, comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. you hear light crunching coming from his side of the table, the spoon gently grazing the bowl and milk dripping into it. it is the calmest morning you've had with him, and you can't help but feel grateful. you watch as he eats, wearing a simple nike set and fuzzy slippers you bought him when you were still a teen. he looks so... normal. like he doesn't torture people for fun during his working hours. like he didn't aim a lamp at your head and serve you a human finger. like he is your normal brother and this is a perfectly normal setting.

"what's on your mind?" he interrupts your thinking. "mingi?"

"yeah," you admit. "it's so weird. he was so nice in the cell, and when he came to my room... he was nice, then mean, then nice again. i'm confused."

he finishes his cereal, then brings the bowl to his lips and slurps the remaining milk. you roll your eyes, seeing the liquid drip down his chin and onto the table.

"yunho-" you cringe, watching him wipe it with his sleeve.

"i'll clean it up." he waves his hand, then reaches for paper towels to wipe his creation. "you were saying?"

"right," you clear your throat, gaze dropping on your own empty plate. "it's just- his behaviour is weird. he is so nice and loving, and the next second he is yelling at me and grabbing me like that. i've read his file, doesn't say anything about it. i've looked after him in his cell for months, he never had a rage fit. he never showed a hint of anger, let alone tried to do something to me."

yunho sighs. you look at him, eyes squinted. there's something he isn't telling you.

"yunho?"

"he has a personality disorder."

"what? why isn't that written anywhere? why didn't doctor maslow tell me?"

"listen, we made a deal, didn't we? me telling you this is my own free will, and i will tell you as much as i want."

you remember the deal, the one you've made the day you came back to the house again. if you're not going to work at the prison anymore, you don't get to interfere or ask him about it. and you accepted, gladly. you don't want to be connected with that place in any way.

"he has a personality disorder, i didn't inform you for my own private reasons. but since you came along and decided to help him, he was different. no more rage fits, even barnes was getting irritated because he had no reason to beat him."

but he still did, you want to say. and yunho knows, because he chuckles at your disgusted face.

"at first, he didn't remember the incident at his house. he was completely numb when we managed to enter the house, and was very much confused during the interrogation. even we were lost, because he was genuinely trying to help us figure out what happened. and then, when he heard a guard making a comment about his sister, we all figured it out. mingi jumped on him, bit his ear off, and that explained to us what's going on."

"oh."

"and that also explains what happened at the cafeteria, and why he was talking about protecting you. he was reliving the same story, and he couldn't contain himself."

you sit in silence, memories flooding back in. the prisoner with his throat bitten off, yunho holding mingi down, your dress soaking up the blood from the floor, all while mingi looks at you and doesn't fight back, only makes sure that you are okay.

"that's..." you huff, overwhelmed with the information you just found out, "...quite messed up. all of it."

"i know."

"if you see him again, will you bring him back?"

"no." he simply says, and with that, takes the bowl to the sink and approaches you. he plants a kiss on your head, something he hasn't done in... ever. "don't you worry about those things anymore. open a coffee shop, find a cute nerd and get married already."

"already? i am only-" you hit his shoulder, and he ruffles your hair.

"yeah, yeah. i'm leaving! don't wait for me, i won't be back until late tonight."

"yunho?" you call, voice small.

"yes?" he doesn't turn around, busy discarding his fuzzy slippers and putting his sneakers on.

"am i supposed to forget the lamp and finger incident?"

he halts his moves for a second, but pretends to be unbothered. you manage to see a frown on his face, no matter how much he tries to hide it. "that's behind us."

"i'll forever remember it." you admit.

"okay."

and with a door slam, he leaves you alone in the house. okay. it's not okay. not one bit. that part of this whole situation is still not resolved, and it is bugging you. will he do it again? is that why he isn't acknowledging it? you sigh, then make your way to bed. you rot in there all day, doing nothing but eating sweets and drinking cans of soda, your favorite show rolling on the wall tv. as the sun goes down, your eyes grow tired and irritated, and no matter how hard you try to stay awake, your body gives up.

you wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat. you keep dreaming of cells and mingi's screams, and it doesn't help that yunho isn't home most of the nights. everything is scarier when it's dark and yunho isn't here. especially tonight, when you reach for the bottle of water on your night stand and instead touch something soft. you turn your head, sleepily rubbing your eyes before taking a good look at the item.

a bouquet of tulips, with a note attached.

your heart stops, head frantically turning in search for a familiar figure hidden in the room. the window is wide open, a sign that you aren't or weren't alone. with shaky fingers, you reach for the note, using your phone light to read it.

𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒅𝒐𝒄. 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘? 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚.

𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊.

you rip the note in tiny bits, then throw it in the trash and mask it with spare junk around the house. yunho can't see that. especially because you really plan on going.

fixing your favorite dress, taking your pepper spray just in case, and putting your newest sandals on, you make your way to the city library. you quietly walk among the shelves, like you once used to walk among the restricted sections. you pick a few books along the way, to look less suspicious. your heart pounds inside your chest, threatening to jump out. one part of you hopes he isn't here. you're not sure if you're ready for that encounter. the other part is getting disappointed with each section you pass, his figure not appearing yet.

you didn't quite think this through. frankly, you never do recently. how do you approach him? what do you say? what do you do?

you reach the end of the maze of shelves, letting out a disappointed, yet relieved huff. now what? the back of the note said ten in the morning, and it is now almost eleven. turning on your heel, your gaze remains on the random books you've picked.

"princess?"

you stop, head raising to find the source of the voice. song mingi stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and a hood over his head. words are lost in your throat, struggling to come together and leave your mouth. you step back, unsure of what to do. mingi steps towards you, and you continue like that, until your back hits the wall covered in shelves and massive history books.

"say something."

you fail to, only gulping and staring at him instead. his hands cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes scan your features.

"please." he whispers.

"hi." you say, stupidly.

he chuckles, then presses his lips on yours. it doesn't feel wrong this time. it feels familiar, and sweeter than ever. he plants small kisses all over your face, from your cheeks, to your forehead, and then on your neck.

"mingi-" you stop him, dropping the books on the floor and putting your hands on his chest.

"i've missed you. please."

"you wanted to meet so you can fuck me?" you ask, disbelief evident on your face.

he pulls away immediately, but his hands stay on your face. "no, of course not. i wanted to talk to you, but now that i see you... i remember how much i miss you."

"this was a bad idea. i have to go."

you try pushing him away, but he grabs you by your waist and pushes you against the shelves. he drops down on his knees, hands sliding down your clothed hips and down to the bottom of your dress. you shiver as his cold hands touch your bare legs under the dress.

"mingi..." you say again, each time less convincingly.

"just... ten minutes. give me ten minutes."

his fingers find the outline of your panties, and you don't protest. remembering the last time his hands were all over you, you give yourself to him. his head disappears under your dress, hot breath caressing your clothed clit. he licks a strip over the panties, causing you to squirm. his grip on your legs hardens, spreading them in the process and making you stay still. your hand grips his hair as soon as he pulls your panties aside, hot tongue teasing the tip of your clit.

you shudder, body getting used to the foreign feeling of pleasure. mingi devours you like a starved man, sucking on your clit, licking up and down your folds, and teasing your entrance.

"you taste as sweet as you look." he pulls away just to say that, then wastes no time in picking your body off the floor and putting your legs over his shoulders.

you gasp, losing control of your body. "what if someone- ah! sees?"

"let them."

his fingers find comfort in your tight walls, scissoring and stretching you. the noises alone make you even wetter than you already are, mingi's hums combined with the slurping and squelching making you dizzy with pleasure. a knot forms at the bottom of your stomach, his fingers toying with your sensitive buttons and helping you reach the peak.

he doesn't silence you, instead, lets you moan his name as you grind your hips against him, riding out the last bits of orgasm. he licks up the remaining liquid, before putting your panties back in place and setting you down on the ground.

he finally takes his hood off, and all the pleasure and bliss you were feeling up until now disappear. his face is more wounded than ever, purple and red spots scattered on it.

"what the hell happened?!"

"yunho's men found me last night after i left your house. tried to kill me. again."

"oh my god," you put a hand over your mouth, not believing your ears. who do you even trust at this point?

"run away with me, doctor. please."

"i- i don't know." you avoid his gaze, looking at the long forgotten books on the floor.

"nobody will ever love you like i do. nobody knows you like i do. so please. make this easy for both of us and come with me."

you want to. you really do. but yunho-

"yunho is a bad man. i know he's your brother, but he is a monster. maybe you don't know, or maybe you do, but i wasn't the only one who had to endure that torture. countless of us, but only i found a way out. well, the way out found me. you found me."

you never thought about it. you only ever saw and heard of mingi, but who knows how many of them there were.

"how about this? i'll take you to my house, and while i finish some business, you can think about it. if you really don't want it, leave while i'm gone, and i'll never look for you again. however, if you do want it, there's spare clothes and a suitcase. you know what to do. that sound good?"

you nod, grateful that he is giving you time to think. he plants a kiss on your forehead, then takes your hand and leads you out of the library. you don't question where he got a car from, you like peace(lol). the house is almost an hour drive away from the library, and soon enough, you realize that it is the very same house you saw in the files back in prison. you walk the same path yunho has probably walked, only unarmed and with the person he came for.

the inside of it is mostly empty, besides a sofa in the living room and empty kitchen cabinets. there's multiple packets of cereal on the counter, and two or three unwashed bowls in the sink. is that what he has been eating since he got out?

he notices you staring at the place, a question mark almost visible above your head. "neighbors raided the house as soon as they moved out."

you hum, not sure what to say. he offers you a can of coke, which you politely take, but don't open yet. he sighs, seeing your hesitation.

"i'll be leaving now. feel free to explore, i have nothing to hide."

that was a lie, because as soon as you see him disappear down the street, you raid the house. everything seems normal, except a picture frame on the wall. you tilt it, noticing that it hangs weird. and indeed, you find something he is hiding. a hole in the wall, with a few weapons and bullets, stacks of money and jewelry. above it, a picture of you and your brother, with a knife stabbed into his face. you immediately figure out just what kind of business mingi has to finish.

yunho closes the door to your room, sighing. you texted him this morning, saying that you were meeting up with a friend. but you are not back yet, and his calls aren't reaching you. he has sent both barnes and elijah to look for you for almost an hour now, but all he has is we are close to her, sir.

he walks into his bathroom, ruffling his hair. his light blue silk sleepwear is suddenly uncomfortable, knowing that you are somewhere out there this late. he wishes you could only send him a message that you are fine. he wouldn't demand that you come back immediately, you are an adult. just to let him know that you are okay.

the man splashes his face with cold water, grief eating him inside out. every time he closes his eyes, he sees yours full of fear looking at him. as soon as you come back, he'll apologize. for everything. he will admit that he doesn't know why he did what he did. the power must've consumed him, he can't find any other reason.

he opens his eyes, looking at his drenched face and eyebags. he hasn't slept well in ages, but he is so close to it. little by little, he is working on making the prison what you wanted it to be; a place of rehabilitation, not torture and punishment. he sighs, reaching for the towel and burying his face into it. the scent of the fabric softener calms him, along with the soft texture of the towel. folding it neatly and setting it down, he glances at himself one more time. a hooded figure stares back at him, right behind him.

"FUCK!"

yunho jumps, hand grabbing the first thing he could. he shudders, for the first time ever in front of someone, when he sees the gun pointed at him in contrast to the electric toothbrush in his hand. he gulps, then glances at the open door. he runs into the dark room, hand reaching for the drawer where he keeps his weapon. but no matter how much yunho tugs, it stays shut. that bastard.

the other man catches yunho off guard, turning him around and hitting him with the weapon. yunho stumbles back, nose and teeth in incredible pain.

"fucking hell, i thought i killed you!" yunho says, spitting blood on the floor.

the hooded man in front of him only smiles, still holding the gun up. he tilts his head, somewhat creepily, sending yunho shivers up his spine. he takes a step back, realizing just how unsafe he is in his own home.

"third time's the charm, right? you failed the first two, even when you had the upper hand. now that we are even..." the hooded man tosses a spare gun on the floor, then kicks it yunho's way, "...let me see you. do your own damn dirty business."

"where is she?"

"safe from you."

"where the fuck is my sister?!"

"TAKE THE DAMN GUN AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN." mingi booms, having enough of the man in front of him.

yunho takes it, wasting no time in pointing the gun at mingi, finger hesitating to pull the trigger. mingi only laughs, not showing fear at all. yunho steps back, as if that's going to save him. he only hopes that you didn't willingly go with mingi. that no matter how bad it sounds, you went against your own will. he would be very disappointed if the first thing is true.

"pull the trigger, yunho."

something is not right.

"go on, that's what you wanted."

he is too calm.

"think about your little sister."

no, not you. he can't die and leave you behind.

"pull the damn trigger, jeong yunho!"

and yunho does, except, no bullet comes out. the weapon only clicks, and yunho barely has time to think of his next step when he hears a gunshot. he doesn't feel pain. he only feels weak, body threatening to fall. is this what it feels like to die? you don't feel anything? you just get dizzy and fall asleep?

"doc-" mingi gasps, and yunho finally looks at him. "what have you done?"

his eyes fall on your figure at the door. you hold a gun in your hand, shaking. mingi falls on the ground, and you run to yunho, handing him the weapon.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you sob, hiding behind your brother.

"it's okay," yunho says, shielding you from mingi.

he doesn't really have to, because mingi coughs on the ground, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin. why, he repeats, eyes piercing yours. you want to help him, even though you brought him to that state. but yunho stops you, keeping your body behind him as he points the loaded gun at the wounded man.

he doesn't need to shoot again. mingi lets out a final cough, hand slipping from his wounded chest and on the floor. his head falls to the side, eyes still locked on you, lifeless. you sob, loud. you now have someone's blood on your hands. not just anyone's, but blood of the man who your promised to heal. instead, you killed him. but it was either him or yunho, and you didn't have much choice. keeping both alive was impossible, and you didn't want to lose yunho. not your only family. family that is finally starting to feel like one.

yunho drops the gun on the floor, turning to hug you. you wail into his chest, fingers gripping the silk and tears wetting it. he hushes you, hand rubbing your back as he shields you from the unpleasant sight.

"it's finally over. you're safe now."

taglist: *i tagged everyone who wanted a part two, if you want me to remove you, please dm me :)

@mingitheii @biancaness @dionysushyung @pearltinyy @jeon-ify @staytiny23 @vantediary @mingiswifeyyyy @aricebxmb @jadenance @seoft-for-seo @sunrins @mimisamisasa @nini4m @kyolovescats

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 month

Text

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

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ricciardosgirl · 5 months

Text

" just friends. "

tw ; smut , smut and more smut.

situationship , rough sex.

————————————————————————

you were friends , until he had you bent over some random dorm room sink. you were friends until he fucked you. you were friends. just friends. nothing more — nothing less.

passing glances , agony fills your system each time he pretended to not know you. fallacious hope after every night he ravaged you. you'd be lying in his dorm room. he's sat on his windowsill , cigarette in mouth as he ignores you . . waiting for you to just leave.

you'd hesitate , eyes wandering around his crowded messy room — taking a moment to breathe. " round two or are you leaving ? " he'd ask coldly , not even turning around to face you. he already knew the answer , you always stayed.

he'd only talk to you in private , and even then the conversation barely lasted — the only thing it seemed that the two of you had in common was love for the art of fucking. it had been a common dance between you two , varying from time to time.

sometimes , he'd be sweet. you'd almost think he's making love to you , but he's just doing this to make you stay. other times , most times , he'd fuck you so hard to where you could barely move afterwards.

" yeah , you like my cock ? say it. " he'd spit on your face , large hands grasping at your throat just right. you gargled out something , but that wasn't good enough. " say it. " he would slap the soft flesh of your ass.

once , only once , he papered you. on your birthday of all things. it was the only time that you ever felt like he gave a fuck about you. he laid on near the edge of your bed , mouth covering your soft sensitive bud. his face already soaking wet and practically dripping onto the sheets as he edged you closer and closer to your release.

that was a good day , a long time ago however. you still think about it.

maybe you aren't friends , maybe this is more than that , maybe it isn't. you saw him take orher girls into a party bathroom or his dorm , it bothered you. and it bothered him because it wasn't you.

" such a fucking whore for me. " face squished into the mirror , farleigh's hands cupped your cheek - his thumb in your mouth. he was driving himself so deep into you . . all you could do was sit there and take it.

" need a cig ? "

he asked , eyes stare over at your semi - covered figure. this was the first time he'd ever said anything different. the first time he actually offered something. " sure. " you came over , joining him on his windowsill after a long night of intense fucking.

you expected something good , something worth coming over for. you lit the cigarette , taking a long drag before he spoke.

" we should stop. " cold , your heart stung. " why ? " he should have at least some integrity . . he should tell you. but instead , he stayed silent.

you walked away that night , tears streaming down your face pathetically.

so much for friends.

#saltburn #farleigh start #smut #i heart saltburn #i cannot get him out of my head #fanfic #oops i did it again #i need to like not write so much for him

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sannasruins · 8 months

Text

it didn't hurt, right?

bakugo katsuki x reader

type: angst

warnings: cheating (on reader), smoking, f!reader

a/n: hi it's been a while, got writer's block but then something bad happened to me which always makes the writing juices flow, also i didn't proofread, i will never proofread

word count: 2k

The strike of a lighter lit in front of your face, you weren't one to smoke, in fact, you had never smoked a cigarette before. After all that had happened to you today though, you thought you needed a vice. You needed something, anything, too dull, to numb, to take your mind off what had happened. What you had heard, and now this dull ache refusing to leave your chest. You let the flame go out.

Leaning against the cold brick wall in the dark, in the alleyway of the convince store where you had just bought a pack of Marlboro's, the pretty sad girls always seemed to smoke those, and a matching red lighter. You huddled into yourself, hands stuffed in your jacket pockets, fist clamped around the box you had just bought. Your chilled body illuminated slightly by the neon lights of the city that spilled into your hiding place, you shakily take out the box, struggling for a second on how to open it before, with shaky hands, successfully ripping into it. You tapped out a single thin white stick and brought it to your lips, before restriking the lighter and bringing it to the tip.

You inhaled deeply, and paused before you began coughing, it felt as if you were going to cough your lungs right out of your body with how hard they were wracking your entire being. You bent over, hands on your knees as your whole body shook with the motions of your coughs, the cigarette, forgotten and extinguished on the ground by your feet, while this was a miserable feeling, you thought to yourself, it did replace that horrible knot of anxiety in your stomach for a few moments. Maybe it was worth it.

You thought back to what had caused this rash change in behavior for you, it wasn’t too long ago, just a few weeks, maybe even a handful of minutes if you didn’t count the foreboding feeling leading up to it.

You had been dating your boyfriend, Pro Hero Bakugo Katsuki for 2 years now, but had known him since the days that he was an upper classman for you at UA high, you in the support class a year under him, got semi acquainted with him as he frequently was breaking his equipment. After he graduated you both lost touch but when you graduated and found a job as a hero equipment repair apprentice at the same agency he was working at, the two of you began to interact once more.

You had had a crush on him since your schooling days, your girl friends always calling you crazy for liking such an abrasive boy, but you liked his candor, and his mental fortitude. The two of you found your quick wit in common and you could sympathize with him in a way that it seemed that a lot of people could not, which you didn’t fully understand but you didn’t let it get to you.

He asked you out 2 years after you had started working at the pro hero agency, he had brought a bouquet of your favorite flowers, you were surprised he had known them, but you happily said yes with years in your eyes. Your girlhood crush had been realized; how many people can say that.

You asked him later what made him ask you out, what he liked about you. He told you he liked your sweetness, your kind eyes, and maybe it was a red flag that he didn't mention how brave you were, or your quick hands, or your impressive talents. But maybe not, it’s hard to tell at this point.

He was sweet for a while, attentive, present, though it did drop off eventually, maybe after a year, maybe a bit sooner. You could shrug that off though, he was a pro hero, he was busy protecting the city and the entirety of Japan.

The two of you moved in together on your one-year anniversary, you thought it was so sweet when he presented you with the key to his apartment in a little box with a bow. Though was that just lazy behavior? Did he do that because he didn’t know what else to do or didn’t care to do anything else? You were questioning everything about the of your relationship at this point.

You hadn’t brought much from your apartment, just a couple boxes of stuff besides clothes, since his place was already furnished with things much nicer than yours. You didn’t think you would be needing any of your old furniture again, no point in paying for storage for things you don’t need, so you sold it off for a little bit of money to put into your savings, you secretly had the thought of ‘wedding’ when saving the money.

You chuckle bitterly in the alleyway you’ve been reminiscing in, “stupid” you murmur to yourself.

It was definitely dumb of you to sell almost all your belongings when moving in with your first serious boyfriend, but you were young and dumb and in love.

You were happy cooking lunches for the both of you, and then making breakfast, before going to work an 8-hour shift, often having to put in overtime due to unexpected or urgent repairs needing to be done, and then coming home, cleaning your shared living spaces, and starting on dinner before he came home. It became a routine, and you didn’t mind, he worked hard, and you loved him, so putting in some extra effort didn’t hurt, right?

You loved him. He loved you. It didn't hurt, right?

He had been acting a little more distant than usual in the last few weeks, you had tried talking to him, getting him to open up, letting him know you were there for him, giving him his space, but no matter what you did, nothing seemed to work, he just seemed to be getting further and further away from you, coming home later, pushing his dinner around his plate but not eating, and even when the two of you slept in the same bed, side by side, it was as if you were worlds apart. You had no idea what was going on, you equated it to his job, it was hard, he had to watch people get hurt, he had to watch people die, he had to bear the guilt of not being able to save those claimed by death. You felt helpless sitting there watching him drift away but you tried everything, there was nothing left for you to do.

He came home earlier than his new normal that day, the sun was still in the sky, albeit, setting, the orange fingers of light stretching out through the clouds as if grasping onto the day, not wanting to leave the bliss of unknowing.

“Oh, hi honey!” you greeted him as you heard the door unlock and swing open, “you’re home earlier than you’ve been, so I don’t have dinner ready quite yet,”.

You continued to happily babble as he took off his shoes by the entrance and closed the door behind him before making his way to the kitchen where you stood and took a seat at the dining table. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling the spikes slightly, in a way he did when he was anxious, but you didn’t see the movement as you had you back turned, happily stirring away at a pot on the stove.

“We need to talk.” He stated.

You felt your stomach drop in anxiety, you didn’t like his tone of voice, it was curt, it was clipped, it was cold. It was unfamiliar.

“O-” your voice caught in your throat, “Okay Hun, well dinners almost ready so, like 10 more minutes and we can talk over it okay? Thats fine, right?” you asked, more trying to reassure yourself than anything else.

“Y/n,” again, the unfamiliar tone, “turn off the stone, that can wait, we need to talk now.”

You slowly released the iron grasp you didn’t know you had on the wooden spoon you held in your hand, a sizable lump growing in your throat, before you inhaled through your nose and acknowledged him.

“Okay, Katsuki.” you turned the burner off, and whipped your palms quickly down your jeans once, steeling yourself before you turned to face him, sitting at the table, which suddenly looked alien to you.

You walked stiffly towards the chair you always sat in, opposite him, and looked at his face, there was an indescribable expression on it, but it was stern, and chilly. His lips were pressed into a hard line, and his eyes had a storm of emotion in them, determination, but behind that, maybe, guilt.

You pulled the chair out and sat, dread already filling your stomach as your mind filled with 1,000 ideas as to what he had to say, though nothing could have prepared you for the words that were about to leave his mouth.

“I found someone else.”

Time slowed for you.

He continued, “and I think I love her, more than I love you, I think more than I could ever love you.”, every second felt agonizing as you processed what he had just told you, someone else? You had a million questions, and they all started falling out of your mouth, tumbling and choking you along with your tears.

“Why? Who? For how long? When did this start? Where did you meet her? What do you mean? Can’t I do anything to fix this? Why are yo-,” You were stuttering and stumbling over your words before he held up a hand to stop your onslaught of questions.

“I can’t say why, I didn’t do it to hurt you, I still care about you, I do still love you, I just,” he paused and put his head in his hands, sighing, “I love her more.”

“I can’t tell you wh-” you stood up, the sound of your chair scrapping against the wooden floor cutting him off. Fat, hot tears ran down your cheeks and you walked past him and towards the front door.

He stood up as you passed, the sharp sound of his chair on the floor abrasive in your ears, and you flinched, squinting your eyes closed.

He grabbed your arm tightly, perhaps he didn’t know his own strength, but the force was bruising. You tried once to shake him off, but he didn’t let go. “Y/n, sit back down and listen to me,” he tried to command you.

You tried again to shrug him off, and when he again refused to release you from his grasp, your voice, raspy and harsher, and in a tone, he had never heard escape from your lips, confronted him.

“Let me go Bakugo.”

His hand loosened and you were able to finally shrug your bicep out of his fisted hand.

He stood there silently watching as you made your way to the front door, shoving your feet into the first pair of shoes you saw and grabbing a jacket, before opening the door and heading out, slamming it behind you.

That is how you had found yourself, now sitting on the ground in the alleyway on the side of a convenience store, knees to your eyes as you shook silently with sobs.

You lowered your knees and again reached into your jacket pocket, pulling out the little box and lighter, deciding to try again. You brought the cigarette back up to your shaky lips and repeated the steps, click of the lighter, bring the flame in close, let the flame die, inhale. Ignore the burn in your chest, exhale.

It didn’t hurt, right?

a/n: there will not be a part two, this was lightly based on an experience that happened to me, and i won't want to write a fake future. even if his actions end up coming and biting him in the ass though, i have moved past it, as i am not going to spend my youth full of regret and rage, it doesn't hurt anyone but me. I hope all of my readers understand. <3

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