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cozymaples · 5 months

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job offer

a/n: part 2

warnings: age gap (within reason, the reader is not a minor of course !) workplace fucking, power imbalance ig? , degradation, cumming!inside without clear consent

steve "i've got a job for you" raglan, who's so desperate to fuck you he doesn't even care about your credentials. steve raglan who can't stop staring at your tits as you sit across from him. "i really need a job," you'd pleaded, desperately.

"you need a job?" he'd ask, hips snapping against your flesh as he pounded you from behind.

you were facedown, bent over his desk, the tits he once ogled at now pressed into the cedarwood beneath you. he keeps his hand beneath your jaw, cradling your neck, but not pressing too tightly.

"uh-huh," you'd answer, though the phrase is stretched through a desperate whine. you can hear him grunting above you, every ounce of his effort poured into fucking you. his pace is agonizing, and you feel your eyes lull back into your skull with pleasure. the only other noise you can hear is his coffee mug, rattling against the desk with each thrust, threatening to spill over his morning dose of caffeine.

"a good pounding is what you needed," he disagrees. "good fucking to get you nice and set, yeah? nice and ready for your workday?" you can't even answer him, moans spilling from your mouth. they double as he degrades you, and you can't explain why it makes you so wet. "harder-!" you plead, and you hear a low snarl rip through his throat. his grip around your neck that had once granted you ease now squeezes tightly with dexterity, and you don't think you could breathe even if you wanted to. you're all fucked-out, near drooling and dizzy and reaching your orgasm. both of you are holding your breath, only moaning through exhales every few seconds. his grip on you is deathly, his cock ramming into you the only thing keeping you grounded.

"come for me, you fuckin' slut. you whore," he antagonizes, demands. it somehow makes your clit throb more, aching with each slap of his balls against it. "wanna hear you," he demands, and his grip on your throat releases just enough for you to spill each and every noise that's been bottled up. "mr. raglan-fuck-!" you spill over, fingernails dragging along the wood beneath you as you unravel him.

"there you go, you fuckin' slut." he coos, "hold still." you gasp as you feel his load shoot inside of you, writhing beneath him. he finally parts from you, and you immediately stand up, turning around to face him as he sits you on his desk. "you're lucky i'm on fucking birth control-" you sputter, and he chuckles. "yeah, well. you're lucky i fuck you at all, so..keep that routine up, if you wanna keep this routine up." you're taken aback at his confidence, and how quickly it makes you succumb to his demands. "..okay." you say, nodding as you smooth out your skirt. "and thank you, by the way-for, um-" you stutter, gesturing with your hands as you gather your belongings. he watches in amusement, and unbeknownst to you, adoration.

"same time next week?" he asks, twirling a pencil between his fingers. you nod rapidly, a small grin growing on your features before exiting the office.

this was a routine you could get used to.

#fnaf smut #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x reader smut #steve raglan fluff #steve raglan x reader fluff #steve raglan x reader imagine #matthew lillard smut #william afton x reader #william afton smut #steve raglan oneshot #steve raglan smut #maple writes raglan!

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 4 years

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"Letters to the Editor - That Penitentiary Hospital." Daily British Whig (Kingston, Ont.) September 11, 1920. Page 4. ---- Kingston, Sept 10. - (To the Editor): One is pleased to read the frequent reports of men invited to visit the penitentiary hospital, and report that all is well. It reminds one of the Crimean situation, when Lord Raglan sent his principal medical officer to visit his hospital on the coast. A fresh coat of whitewash had just been added in honor of his visit, and the old man returned with the report that everything was right.

As the result of many complaints and the assistance of W. W. Gibson, a little eye-wash has been added to our penitentiary hospital, and now the curtain has been lifted to let a few inexperienced men visit and report.

Mr. Woodside, from Ottawa, has made a visit and is satisfied by comparison with the sandbag hospital in Maple Copse. I propose to carry on the comparison. The site in Maple Copse was never dignified by the name "hospital." It was merely an advanced dressing station, a series of dugouts where sick and wounded men were kept for a few hours. Just behind was Zillebeke Lake, almost in the same position as Lake Ontario to the penitentiary hospital. In this bund or bank of Zillebeke Lake were the summer and winter homes of many officers and men. Now when Mr. Woodside or any press reporter visited the station at Maple Copse, he would always find one medical officer, at least, on duty day and night. It is quite true this medical officer might have crossed Zillebeke Lake and have taken up his summer residence in the bunde or bank; or he might have taken the punt on Zillebeke Lake and with some bombs enjoyed a day's fishing, leaving his sick and wounded to the orderlies.

If Mr. Woodside would visit penitentiary hospital for twenty-four hours, he would find the sick for twenty hours of that time in the care of an unqualified pharmacist and untrained nurse.

I agree with the words of Mr. Woodside when he writes: "With some slight alterations and perhaps additions." Yes, a new hospital is yet to come and is coming.

But I do not agree with him when he says, "that hospital is plenty good enough for its purpose." This is a true statement of the attitude of the administration - good enough for the convict..

Who is the convict? Read further down the article "a well cared for brute." This is the true attitude of the administration to the whole subject. All convicts to them are "brutes" for whom "the briny organs of sentimentalists drip tears."

This is the spirit of those who run the finest penitentiary on the whole North American continent.

A. E. ROSS.

[A. E. Ross was the Ontario MPP for Kingston until 1921 and would be the MP for Kingston, after that, FYI, and was a brigadier-general in the Canadian forces, head of the Medical Services.]

#kingston ontario #kingston penitentiary #letter to the editor #healthcare in prison #health in prison #world war 1 #canadian veteran in politics #a. e. ross #member of parliament #penal reform #prison conditions #1920 kp rcmp investigation #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #let in the light #world war 1 canada

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cozymaples · 5 months

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job offer (part 2) | steve raglan x reader

a/n: hi hi!! he's back.....! also, you literally do not have to have read part 1 for this, but that link is right here in case you decide to! contains: degradation, bondage, breeding kink, power imbalance, afab!reader, age gap (however the reader is not a minor of course!) DUB!CON, very brief, reader says she doesn't like something when answering a question, but does, and clearly gives consent following.

word count: 2.1k

It had been two weeks since you’d seen Steve. You’d started your new job, as promised, but you couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t called you, and you couldn’t help your mind from racing. Did he bend every girl looking for a job over his desk like that? Is that why he has such a high success rate? Your typing grows more aggressive on the keyboard in front of you as your thoughts wander, finally sending your last e-mail of the day.

To be fair, your new job was good. Great, even. You’d made a great first impression on your boss without fucking him, and people seemed to like you well enough. You collect your belongings, heading out for the day with a sigh. Giving a small wave and grin to your coworkers on your departure, you finally exhale all of your stress as you leave the building. You check your phone, reading the time. 5:15. You knew that Steve’s hours of operation were at least until six, so what was the harm in dropping by?

When you arrive, it’s desolate. The last few employees are packing up their things, and suddenly you feel like a burden-not wanting to hassle anyone. You opt for a middle ground, walking up to the receptionist window with a warm grin. “Hi,” You say. The woman looks back at you, silent. Irritated. “I just, uh, I was wondering if Mr.Raglan was still here?” The woman looks..confused. “Sure is,” She says, assuming you're a late appointment. “You head on back, though. He’ll lock up.” You can tell she doesn’t want to be there a minute longer, so you nod gratefully. “Of course, thank you so much.” You grin at her, and she offers a small one back.

Making your way down the hall, you see the bold letters of his name embellished on his door, which is ajar. You knock lightly, sticking your head in first, cautiously. He looks up from the stack of papers he’s got piled on his desk, meeting your gaze. His expression goes from stressed to amused..perceptive. “Hey, you.” He says, sing-songy. His eyes return back to his papers, and your brows furrow at the reaction. You take the opportunity to walk to the chair in front of his desk, plopping yourself down as you fold your hands in your lap. You’d expected more of a reaction, and he can tell. He sighs, a smug grin adorning his features as he looks up at you, finally putting the papers down to settle.

“Job not what you were lookin’ for?” He asks.

“You didn’t call me.”

“Didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You sputter, scoffing at his words. “You didn’t-you didn’t know?” You repeat. He shakes his head, elbows on his desk as he holds up his hands with a defensive shrug.

He has to be joking.

“You have all of my contact information, I mean-” Is your next line of defense. He raises his hand in a ‘stop’ motion to quiet you, easing you into silence. “And you..wanted me to..go through a private file of employee confidential information for..what, exactly?” You can’t tell if he’s testing you, but the way your clit is throbbing makes you want to ace it. “To fuck me.” You say, plainly. Clearly there’s no other way around this, and if he wants to hear it, so be it. He chortles, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“To fuck you.”

“Yes, but if there’s something funny about that to you, then I can just-” You start, aggressively, wondering why you even came here in the first place. “Shhh,” He hushes, raising his hand gently once more. He stands up, closing the door to his office. You swallow harshly. He walks slowly back to his desk, coolly, speaking softly to you. “Come here,” He says, gently. You’re confused at the sudden change of heart, but oblige anyway. You can’t ignore how badly your pussy needs him anymore. You walk around his desk, standing where his chair would normally be. It’s pushed back behind him, to grant you more room. He stands in front of you, towering over you as he cups your face in his hands. You take a step back, gazing up at him, doe-eyed as he studies your features. “Pretty thing like you came all the way back here for me?” He asks.

So it was a test.

“Yes.” You say, nodding.

“Good.” He says. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before lowering himself to his knees, guiding you up onto his desk as he sinks lower. When you’re finally adjusted, he’s knelt in front of you, large palms running up and down your nylon clad thighs. The skirt you’re wearing gets bunched up from the motions, hiking higher and higher up your legs. “See you couldn’t be as much of a slut today, considering your new job and all.” He says, referring to the nylon tights as he pinches a piece of the fabric between his fingers. He pulls it from your skin, letting it snap back against your flesh as he lets go. You nod, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Corporate job.” You say. “Yeah, I know.” He replies. He seems uninterested, but it’s far from the case. He just..knows. Knows what you’re going to say before you say it. Knows what you’re thinking, too, it seems.

Before you can say anything else, he roughly rips the tights off, and you gasp as the fabric tears. The sudden movement causes you to lean backwards, leaning on your palms for support. It’s as if you’ve fallen into a trap, but one that you want to be in. One that you shouldn’t want to be in, but you do. He spreads your legs for you, the torn fabric falling around your thighs as he tears the only thing left in his way; your panties. The actions leave him eye level with your exposed cunt, and you gasp harshly.

“Jesus, do you have to destroy everything I own?” You’re exasperated, trying to catch your breath just from that alone. “Watch your mouth.” He replies. Your breath catches in your throat, and you can only nod in response. He tugs you closer to him, leaving you on the edge of his desk. Your palms once again steady you, of which he takes note. “Good girl. Keep yourself steady-can you do that?”

You nod. “Yes-”

His mouth finally latches to your pussy, and you gasp loudly as you fall back onto your elbows. “Fuck!” You hiss, and you can hear him chuckle into your pussy, the vibrations against your clit making you dizzy. His mouth works on your clit, spitting on it just to lap it all back up. Moans spill tirelessly from your mouth, and you finally lay fully on your back. He uses the opportunity to tug you fully towards him, shelving your legs on his broad shoulders. You lay there, your hands lunging from your sides to tug at his hair, babbling his name over and over again. He’s quiet, which normally would irritate you, but you don’t want to risk making him talk right now; considering the way he’s feasting on your pussy. You feel yourself dripping, even more so when he slides two thick fingers inside of you. “Ah-!” You gasp, and he soothes you, pulling his mouth from you. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re alright, yeah?” He asks, feigning sympathy as he rubs his thumb against your clit, his fingers no longer pumping inside of you; only a standstill.

You nod rapidly, desperate for him to do anything. “Uh-huh, m’okay, please-” You beg, “Want more, m’sorry-”

“Bet you are.” He tsk’s, resuming the motion of his fingers pumping inside of you. You tilt your head upwards, chin to your chest as you look down at him. You whine, desperate for his mouth, but willing to take anything at the moment. He talks to you again, still on his knees. “Gave you that job, now you wanna come here and have me fuck you, again, after hours, nonetheless.” He scolds, and you whine. “Spoiled fucking rotten is what you are. Fucking whore.” You can’t help the way your pussy clenches at his words, sobbing from pleasure as he licks at your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of your dripping pussy. You hear him moan from beneath you, chuckling softly afterwards. “Yeah, you like that, huh? Like when I call you a fuckin’ slut?” You writhe above him, your elbow knocking his mug off of his desk, hearing it clatter against the floor as it shatters. He’s unphased, still waiting for an answer to his question. “No,” You say, but your moans prove otherwise, as does you clenching around his fingers. “No?” He repeats. “I’d say you’re fuckin’ lying. And lying sluts get nothing.” You whine, tugging at his hair.

“Of course I fucking like it-is that what you wanna hear?” You pant.

“Only wanna hear it if it’s true.”

“It’s-!” You want to scream, wondering how someone so collected and calm can make you so frustrated. “It’s true! I swear, it’s true-” A thin layer of sweat graces your features, and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. “God, m’gonna fucking-” You babble, and he immediately pulls away.

Now you really want to scream.

“Are you kidding?!” You ask, your features flushed and cherried red with warmth. You regret your sentence as soon as you hear the jingle of his belt coming undone, tossing it harshly to the side as it hits the radiator with a clang!

“You’ve got some fuckin’ mouth on you, you know that?” He asks, and you immediately retreat back into submission. “I’m-I just don’t understand!” You snap, exasperated. He makes fleeting eye contact here and there, focusing on the surroundings as he lines you up at the edge of his desk. You can tell he’s frustrated, and it’s your fault. “And what don’t you understandl? Huh?” He asks, lining his cock with your entrance. The way the head of his cock brushes against your clit makes your eyes roll backwards, lips parted and jaw slack as it bumps into the bundle of nerves. “F’you even want me here or not-” He laughs, as if he’s never been asked something so ridiculous before. He slides his cock into you, pulling you closer by your hips to help you sink further onto it.

“If I even want you here.” He repeats, baffled. He holds you steady, and you’re hanging off of the desk just enough for him to fuck into you steadily. He wraps his arm around your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You breathe heavily, expelling moans as you stay chest to chest. He presses his lips to yours, and you feel your worries wash away. Why did you even have worries? This was disgusting-vile-to return to the workplace of a man older than you, just to have him fuck you.

“Do you-think-I don’t-want you here?” He grunts through thrusts, pounding into you deliciously. You shake your head rapidly, wondering why you would even care if he wanted you here in the first place. The way he’s fucking into you makes your brain go fuzzy, dumb with lust. It makes you anxious, fearing you’ll say something you shouldn’t under the guise of intimacy. “Do you want me to want you here?” He asks, the question buried into the flesh of your neck as he kisses it. Your head lulls back, feeling like putty in his hands. “Yes,” You answer, and he groans into your flesh. “Fuck,” He takes the confession as a cue to fuck you harder, which you’re not complaining about. Your arms drape over his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer into you. You’re both flushed, features graced with rosiness. His thrusts grow more sloppy, inconsistent. You know he’s close and you nod rapidly. “Come in me.” You beg, plead. “He pulls his head from the crook of your neck, holding you by the back of it, free hand tight on your hip. “Of course you’d want that.” He scoffs, but who is he to deny you?

You feel his load shoot into you, warm and thick as you babble his name, cumming around his cock as you drain him. As he finishes, he still holds you close to him, both of you steadying your breathing. He finally pulls his cock from you, his load pooling onto the desk beneath you. You quickly avert your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. It seems you’re both thinking the same thing, and he dresses himself in the silence.

“We shouldn't.” He says, gazing at the wall with folded arms. “But we are.” You reply.

#maple writes raglan!#this is insane i know #part 3??? mayhaps.#steve raglan fluff #steve raglan x reader smut #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton #matthew lillard smut #matthew lillard #fnaf #fnaf smut #steve raglan imagine #steve raglan x reader imagine

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