#and the world is lucky to have her so !! ;v;

[pretty-circa006]

Sneaking Out

Stepdad! Negan x F! Reader

summary Negan catches you sneaking out to go to a party and punishes you accordingly

tags age gap (reader is 19, Negan is pushing 40), spanking, unprotected p in v, making out, slight dacryphilia, stepcest, nudity, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, vaguely implied underaged drinking, hair pulling, use of pet names, cumshot

this is my first time posting my writing on here, kinda nervy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

wc: 2.65k

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She sat on her bed, crying. Knees tucked to her chest and head held in her hands as small sniffles and whimpers escaped her lips, despite her best efforts to stay silent. She resented her mom for being so strict and not letting her go out to parties like others her age. She was sure her mom would have let up once she graduated high school, especially since she was legally an adult now, but it only seemed like she doubled down even more. Things got even worse once her mom married her stepdad, Negan. Per her mother's request, he installed security cameras in the front of house and the backyard to ensure she couldn't sneak out. And the few times she tried, she failed, because Negan would be up late, playing video games in the living room or smoking a cigarette in the backyard by the poolside, making it impossible for her to sneak out. She was so miserable, watching everyone have fun over the summer before college while she wasted away in her room with her only entertainment being behind a screen or imbedded in the pages of a book.

It was so unfair. Especially because she knew tonight was gonna be the party of the year. One of the rich girls in her graduating class was throwing a pool party at her mansion, her mansion which housed one of the best pools she'd ever seen. And somehow, she was lucky enough to be invited. This was an opportunity of a lifetime and if it meant being grounded for an eternity, so be it.

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She had one foot out her bedroom window when she heard a knock on her door.

"Hey kid, can I come in?" her stepdad, Negan's, voice called from the other side of the door.

"One sec, I'm not decent!" she fibbed as she stumbled back inside her room. She shut the window as silently it would go before she slipped under the covers of her bed, hiding the fact she had on nothing but a tropical, triangle bikini.

"Okay, you can come in now," she called out. Negan let himself in, glancing around her room suspiciously. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, tattoos peeking out from beneath his white t-shirt, and obvious outline of his dick through his gray sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Despite being hidden beneath her sheets and comforter, she felt vulnerable and naked beneath his skeptical gaze.

"You're not plannin' on sneakin' out, are ya?" he asked, tongue seductively swiping across his bottom lip. She nervously swallowed, heat blossoming across her cheeks.

"N-no, why?" came her shaky reply.

"You are a shit liar, kid," he laughed, a handsome smirk on his face.

"Why would I sneak out? There's nothing for me to out there anyway," she doubled down, not feeding into his bait. He stalked closer to her bed before sitting down at the foot of it, hazel eyes boring into her soul.

"So you're not going to that pool party happening right now?" The tone of his voice was sarcastic, hinting that he didn't believe a word coming from her mouth.

"Pool party? What pool party?" She punctuated her question with a fake yawn to try and convince Negan that she really was tired and ready to go to bed for the night.

"If you say so, kid. Just know that if I catch your lying ass sneaking out tonight, you'll be in for a world of hell when I punish you." Her thighs involuntarily squeezed together at his words and the action didn't go unnoticed by Negan. She nodded her head while silently praying he'd hurry up and leave so she can sneak out.

His eyes narrowed at her as he stood up. "Night, kiddo," he said, patting her knee through the comforter for good measure.

"Night, Negan!"

She continued laying in her bed, petrified, for another ten minutes until she heard the door to her mom's bedroom shut. Negan's words did manage to strike some fear into her, but not enough to deter her from her original plan. She was sure he was in bed now and falling asleep for the night. After silently sliding out of her bed, she tucked a few decorative pillows in her previous place in hope they'd fool Negan or her mom if they peek in to check on her.

Her hands were shaky when she re-opened her bedroom window. Nerves were finally getting to her. She could hear her heart beating rapidly in her ears as she began having second thoughts about doing this. Negan was nowhere near as strict as her mom, so his punishment couldn't actually that bad. Not that she'd actually have to worry about his punishment, because she wasn't gonna get caught.

She crept out of her window and stepped onto the roof. She closed her window, only leaving it slightly ajar so she could get back inside later. Careful not to slip on the roof's slippery shingles, she tiptoed to the edge and looked over at the space from here to the grassy ground. Too late to go back now. She sat on the ledge and turned herself around so she could hang from the ledge before dropping into the soft grass.

She looked back at the house, elated she was finally out and what fun was about to come

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The dark morning sky was slowly beginning to turn into a lighter blue as she clumsily climbed the trellis back onto the second story's roof. Her slightly intoxicated brain made it so her movements weren't as agile and quiet like before. She lifted her window open and unceremoniously fell inside, smacking the carpeted flooring with her face.

The first thing she noticed was the potent smell of tobacco followed by his signature whistling.

"Aw, fuck," she groaned to herself. She heard the springs of her mattress release as Negan got up and soon his socked feet came into her view. He reached out a hand and helped her up after she gratefully accepted it.

He looked pissed. His thick eyebrows settled into a frown and his hazel-green eyes were devoid of any kindness. She nervously crossed her arms over her body, feeling naked under his gaze.

"How was the pool party?" he asked.

"I wasn't a-at a pool party!" she lied.

His look only darkened, making her weak in the knees. From fear or arousal, she couldn't tell.

"What kinda goddamn fuckin' idiot do you take me for? You are literally dripping wet and wearin' a damn bikini!" he pointed out the obvious.

"I was swimming in our own pool in the backyard!" she lied with such little conviction that she couldn't even fool herself

He stepped closer to her and if she wasn't already so close to the wall she'd have stepped back. She averted her gaze and chose to look at the chipped, bubblegum pink nail polish that adorned her toes. Negan wasn't having any of it, though, and forced her to look up at him by grabbing a fistful of her wet hair and tilting her head up. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"What did I tell you would happen if I caught you sneaking out?" he asked between clenched teeth.

"That...that you're gonna p-punish me..." The tears were streaming down her face now as she sniveled pathetically.

"Attagirl," he darkly praised, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. The slight praise caused her stomach to do backflips and her core to clench over nothing. Her face felt hot and her breathing shallowed as her only thoughts were what Negan would do next.

His grip on her hair stayed firm as he walked her over to her bed. He released his hold before taking a seat onto the plush mattress. She stood before him, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot and nibbling the skin around her thumbnail, awaiting what was to come. His large, warm hands gripped her hips, pulling her to stand between his legs. She glanced down at him as he looked up at her, but her eyes drifted past his face and down to the bulge growing in his sweatpants. She was embarrassed to admit it, but her mouth watered at the sight.

"Now, I want you to know that this shit could have been avoided had your stubborn ass just listened to me," he stated, his grip on her hips growing firmer. She nodded her head, not knowing what to say and not wanting to anger her stepdad even further.

He pulled the ties on either side of her bikini bottoms and let the damp garment fall to the floor between her feet. She nervously bit her bottom lip and looked down at him, but he was too busy eyeing her cunt and soft thighs, which glimmered with the slick of her arousal. He looked up at her as he licked his bottom lip. He patted his thighs.

"Bend over my fuckin' knee, doll," he ordered. She warily obeyed, despite the humiliation of having him see her bare, wet pussy. His roughish hands caressed the soft flesh of her ass, admiring the mounds. Without warning, his hand came down harshly on her right cheek, earning a yelp from her.

"Keep it down," he hissed before landing an even harsher slap to her other cheek. She only whimpered this time, pursing her lips to fight the noises that yearned to escape. He continued his assailment on her ass, leaving it stinging with numbness. Her whimpers turned into a mixture of sobs and wanton moans which only tightened his pants. By the looks of it, he wasn't the only one getting off to this punishment. Her cunt sparkled with her arousal, arousal which was leaking down her thighs.

"Negan, please!" she begged. Her thighs were clenched together as she tried to rub her aching clit on his thigh.

"What is it that you want, baby?" he questioned. His big hands kneaded at her squishy flesh. He knew damn well what she wanted, but he wanted to hear her beg. Her weeping pussy was practically begging to be stuffed with his big cock.

"Need you! Need to feel you inside me," she begged between sniffles and sobs. She stood up from being bent over his lap and sat on it, straddling him instead. His arms snaked around her waist and hers around his neck before she leaned down almost close enough to connect her lips to his.

"Please, Negan?" she whispered against his lips. His eyes flitted from hers down to her lips which were so close to his. Her eyes fluttered shut as she gently pressed her soft lips to his, his facial hair pricking at her skin. Negan could name a plethora of reasons why this would be wrong, but the one reason it felt right overpowered them all, so he grabbed the back of her head and crashed his lips against hers. The desperate moan she let out gave Negan the perfect opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like some fruity cocktail that was really just a bunch of things mixed together by some inexperienced kid. He'd have to take her out for a real drink one day. His tongue traversed her mouth, consuming her. She desperately ground her bare pussy on his clothed bulge, eliciting pleasured groans from him. His hands felt up her body before untying her bikini top from the back and the neck, leaving her completely bare on his lap.

"Please, Negan, I need to feel you," she begged after pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were glued to her tits, watching them as her chest rose and fell while she caught her breath. He cupped them in his hands before giving them a squeeze. Her head fell back as she let out a wanton moan. The rough skin of his fingertips gave her hardened nipples some much needed friction as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.

"You got some nice fuckin' tits, babydoll," he complimented, only making her wetter.

Her hands slid down his chest, then torso, then stopped at the waistband of his pants.

"Neeegaaan," she impatiently whined.

"Well, baby, if you want it, go ahead and fuckin' take it." His dimpled smile almost brought her to her release right then and there. He lifted his hips so she could pull his cock free. His length audibly smacked his abdomen, the tip an angry, flaming red and leaking with precum. If her core wasn't aching so badly, she'd have gladly taken him down her throat. She took him in her hand. He was so big that her fingers didn't even touch. She stroked him a few times as he sucked bruising marks onto her neck and collarbones. He held onto her hips as she lined him up with her sopping center, stroking him along her slick folds before sinking all the way down on him. The stretch was there, but not painful because she was so wet and ready for him.

"Negan, you feel so good!" she moaned once he bottomed out inside of her. Her nails dug little crescent moons into his skin through his shirt as she began bouncing on his cock. He admired her tits bouncing as she rode him before pulling her closer and taking one in his mouth, kneading the other with his free hand.

The squelching sounds of her wet pussy and the smell off sex permeating her bedroom only made things more erotic. Negan was hitting every spot perfectly, but he wanted more. He freed her tit from his mouth before flipping their position. Her back was now laying against the bed and Negan stood over her, his cock still inside. Now that he had more control, his thrusts came harder and faster, his tip almost kissing her cervix.

"Goddammit, doll, you were made for my cock!" he praised. More profanities and moans fell from his mouth as her wet, spongy walls squeezed his cock. Her moans were growing louder and louder, making Negan worry that they might wake up her mom...who was his wife.

"I know that my dick is the best damn dick you've had and ever will have in your entire goddamn life, but you need to keep it down," he lectured. She rolled her eyes but pursed her lips in a feeble attempt to keep quiet.

They were both close to reaching their peaks and it was obvious by the way his thrusts grew rushed and sloppy and how her cunt was squeezing him.

"I'm gonna-" her sentence was cut off by a scream of ecstasy which caused Negan to cover her loud mouth with his palm. Her cunt squeezed him as her back arched off the bed and eyes rolled to the back of her head while she came. If he was thinking straight, he'd have left her high and dry as punishment, but his own orgasm was close and he'd be damned if he didn't cum. She removed his hand from covering her mouth and took two of his long, thick fingers into her mouth.

"Ho-ly fuckin' shit!" He swore, marveling at the sight. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on the digits.

"That's. My. Girl!" he praised with each thrust.He pulled out of her just as his orgasm came over him and shot his load onto her tits and stomach. He flopped onto the bed beside her and she rolled into his strong arms.

"Y'know I can't stay, gotta get back to your mom before she wakes up."

"Just ten more minutes?" she begged, looking up at Negan with those doe eyes of hers.

He sighed and lightheartedly rolled his eyes.

"Anything for my babydoll."

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback on how i can improve, i'd love to hear it!

#negan x reader #negan x you #negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan smut #negan x y/n #smut #twd negan #the walking dead smut #the walking dead #the walking dead negan #twd fanfiction #fanfic #negan fanfiction #negan #female reader #pwp #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #jdmorgan #negan smith x you #negan smith x y/n #one shot #first post #first fanfic

[badboysupr]

if you folks aren't following my better half over at @howthesleeplesswander, then you definitely should at least go check her out (♡´౪`♡)

i mean

she puts up with me, so i guarantee she's a ray of sunshine and stronger than most people

plus, her writing is the stuff of legends and she's so passionate and friendly and LOVES crossovers so!! you can't go wrong (´∀｀)♡

#(promo) #she just added some teen wolf muses >))) which work really well with pjo folks jUST SAYIN #srsly one of the kindest most talented ppl i've ever met <3 #and the world is lucky to have her so !! ;v; #it'd make me super happy if some folks would at least check her out! #fabulous multimuse with a variety of fandoms ovo/ #and she's always super down to discuss any crossovers so even if there are no shared fandoms #i guarantee she finds a way to make it work eagerly and enthusiastically #let's not even talk about some of our weird crossovers okay #trust me; you can make the strangest stuff Work #BUT YESSS she's a darling! one of my biggest inspirations #love love looooove

[xannerz]

im so lucky ;3; 💘

#i love my friends and birb so much ;o; #like the world's still spinning - work and misc life things are insanely stressful atm and i do feel like i'm near buckling on those fronts #but i feel sooo lucky to have such good people in my life #one of my best friends told me that this has been the happiest i've been in years #and i felt v held by her saying that unprompted tbh ;; #like a promotion at work helped but she could see how much happier ive been since i told birb how i felt and its just. Nice. #there are so many good people and things in my life rn i want to nurture and hold on to them #i love my gf!! so much!! i never experienced this type of love before - could never relate to it. until We Happened ykwim #and im so happy we can share it together ;; 💘 #xangoeswah

[ofgentleresolve]

@jeoseungsaja​ sent in: "You can tell me." (HOW ABOUT? MANA AND YEO, Mana is more than free to yeet him tbh IWUEDHIUWDEH) || new blog but they all still hate vulnerability 🙃 ( you can tell me prompt. )

Hoàn frowns, hands still balled in the pockets of her coat. The summer sun beats down on the both of them in the park although there is shade either of them could take refuge in, Hoàn highly doubts it would do much to stave off the heat.

All the more reason to make her leave- it’s one of the downsides to being a turtle spirit. There’s only so much sunlight her body can take before it hurts. The coat, however heavy, is the one thing keeping the UV rays away, but that doesn’t mean it’ll protect her from overheating. Not even SUNSCREEN would help her there.

( How strange- how does she know about sunscreen? Why did that human invention come to mind first? )

And yet, she stays even with the river only a quick walk away. It’d be easy, maybe, to escape him, the fox spirit. Sure getting to the river would be an issue, but once she’s in the water, she’d be safe.

Foxes can’t swim after all.

But he’s made no move so far to cut her down. Or bite her- she doesn’t know how he fights. It’s smart, really- not showing your hand unless necessity calls for it.

“Don’t you think that’s unfair?” She says instead, still sitting on the ledge of the bench. “You ask all these questions and expect me to be open about myself while you get to stay a mystery? It doesn’t work that way.” She keeps frowning though, biting on the inside of her cheek. It would be…nice though, she supposes to be able to confide in someone aside from Kim Quy. Of course, the Golden Turtle God is her protector in many ways, but there’s only so many times she can take another cryptic response to a question, or even a confession she makes.

Sometimes Hoán just wants the answer straight. Easy to comprehend. Or maybe just someone she can have a normal conversation with.

She leans back, weighing her options. If she tells him and he uses it against Kim Quy, well, it doesn’t seem like he’s any more than a typical gumiho. At the very least, Kim Quy would ( hopefully ) have little difficulty with subduing him. There’d also be the matter of having to explain herself to Kim Quy, but well-

You know what, she can deal with that if such a circumstance ever arises.

Which it might not. Because if he turns out to be decent then-

“You’re lucky. I can’t answer a question I don’t know the answer to myself.” Hoàn throws a look in the gumiho’s direction. “…You happen to know any creatures who were once human and became supernatural?”

#jeoseungsaja #jeoseungsaja ( wang yeo. ) #everything changes everybody changes ( answered. ) #( mana. ) #( verse: hoàn kiếm. ) #well....she didn't yeet him so that's a start fjksldjflskj #not mana thinking he could bite her instead....but then again she's never seen him fight so her assumptions are...dated and uninformed #unfortuniately JFKLSJDFLK #we are v lucky that wang yeo is....at least more patient than detective sourface :'D #but also she's lonely...it's hard to be turtle spirit when your 'mentor' is kinda out of it :/ #BUT ALEX THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN :DD #HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERUL DAY <3 <3 <3 #i believe in a precious world ( queue. )

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks

[moonlesslights]

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #peter b parker

[luvwestwood]

"Working Overtime" - Toji Fushiguro

4,469 words.

warnings. nsfw (18+), toji is your boss, escort reader, thigh riding, p in v, spitting, toji rails you on a balcony, exhibitionism?, toji fucks you on a pile of money, mention of size difference, hair pulling, eye contact, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praising, light aftercare

notes. corporate girlie by day, escorting by night. out of all people, who knew your own boss had to be tonights client? (ok but wealthy toji is such a refreshing experience from broke homeless smelly ass toji.)

art used is by @/yunonoai

Being able to say you work under Mr. Fushiguro meant that you were gifted of some kind. Just having the privilege to do so puts you on top of others in society.

Toji Fushiguro himself possessed a different category of wealth. Any high-rise building you walk into in the whole of New York, you could be 99.9% sure that he owns it.

Five star hotels, bars of any kind, and award-winning Michelin restaurants. Oh, you name it. This was his world and we were just living in it.

On the other hand, the Fushiguro company's pay was decent. Working conditions were way above standard. It was a luxury to work in his office, but knowing you, it just wasn't enough.

You needed more than that. Which is why you took up escorting, suggested by your best-friend one night while the two of you were intoxicated by liquor. She told you that you had the looks, the bod, and a personality anyone would die for. And lastly, you were captivating - you could have anything your way.

At first you took it as a joke. Thinking she was just being a lick ass. But surprisingly you had tried it out not long after the idea was proposed, and you ended up making almost double your annual net salary in just four months. This night job was a secret that only you and your best-friend knows about.

Of course, you worked on the weekends. Choosing to work Monday to Thursday would’ve been self sabotage.

You had more than enough money to buy whatever you want, send your mom on holiday, and you were always on top of rent. Your corporate job was just something to get through the day with rather than rotting at home.

During shifts, you and the other escorts would hang around in the night club changing rooms. Most of the girls were also strippers in the same club, but that wasn’t really your thing. So you just stayed with escorting. Your manager would just assign each of you clients, unless someone has personally booked you in.

Speaking of which, a voice came from the door frame. “Star, you have a client tonight. 9PM.” Star wasn’t your real name, it was just a fake one that you used while you escorted. It was safer, and most of the other girls did the same.

You look at Geto, your boss, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Busy polishing up your eyeliner, you try your best not to poke yourself in the eye. “Name? And did he obey my no-home rule?”

As an escort, you did have some rules for your own service. You figured you’ve been doing this for quite a reasonable amount of time, so you made a personal rule where you’d refuse to go to a clients house. For safety reasons.

“Goes by the name.. uh… Eznin? And he did indeed. Seems like he booked in for the Ritz Carlton on 25 West. Think he’s a first time client too.” He reads the details off his tablet.

Of course, it just had to be one of Fushiguros hotels. You literally couldn’t escape that man.

The other girls in the room purred, “Aren’t you lucky.. Seems like he has money, don’t ya think?” Meimei takes a puff of her cigarette, looking at you in the mirror aswell for a response. “Maybe check for an expensive watch? I’d take it if I were you.”

“Not funny, Meimei.” She was known for stealing from her clients, you never knew how she got away with it. It even got so bad to the point that she sp¡ked a client, taking his wallet afterwards.

Getting up from the chair, you made your way behind the dressing divider, shimmying your robe off to slide on a dark blue lingerie set. Over it, you wore a simple black dress. I mean, you could never go wrong with a little black dress.

Throwing on some matching strappy heels, you stuffed your purse with some condoms and lube. And a plan B, of course.

“Your rides sorted,” Geto stood back from the door frame. “I’ll text you any further details.”

“Copy,” after spritzing on some perfume, you made your way out of the club.

An all-black SUV was waiting for you outside the entrance. Your favourite driver, Todo was standing beside the car door, smiling as you approached him.

“Hi, Todo.” You smiled as he held the door open.

“You look wonderful miss.” Todo smiles back before closing the door, walking around to the drivers side.

The car drives on, and as you were securing a secret mic in your purse, (for safety reasons but the client never knows) Todo speaks.

“Ah- Miss, not sure if I should disclose this information but your client tonight is.. very wealthy.” His leather covered hands clutch onto the wheel. “I’d be more demanding if I were you, make the most of it.”

Breaking out into a laugh, you stop fiddling with your bag, to look at him in the rear view mirror. “..Is that so?”

“Yeah… thought I might let you know.” He grins, bringing the car to a stop. Todo quickly scurries out of the vehicle before you could, opening the door for you.

“Thanks for the ride, Todo.” You slipped a $20 bill in his hand. “I’ll text you when I’m finished.”

He nods, getting back into the car as you made your way inside of the hotel.

Checking your phone for updates, Geto sent you a text with all the details around five minutes ago.

Eznin Caln 30 years old, Net worth- $307,473,297 Floor number 43, he’ll let you in.

You walked over to the elevators, luckily one was already open. Taking a look at the buttons panel, you looked for a 43. Noticing it was the last highest button, you raised an eyebrow before pressing it.

Clutching onto the straps of your purse, the doors closed. You could only look at yourself in the metal reflection, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, you made sure to send a text back to Geto to let him know you were at the hotel.

Although you were decently experienced in this job, you’d still get nervous each time you were about to meet your clients.

Setting down the fly aways in your hair, the elevator came to a halt.

*Ding!*

The metal doors opened before your eyes. Hesitant, you walked inside, the bottom of your heels tapping against the wooden floors.

“..Hello?” You peeked inside the other rooms in the penthouse, one being a mini office that seemed like someone was just there, the other being a bedroom with big windows and a balcony, overlooking the city.

A deep voice spoke behind you. “Can I help you?”

You gasp, clutching onto your chest as you turned around. “I’m so sorr- Mr. Fushiguro?!”

Your eyes widened, and his mouth wide open. He was only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair wet from a fresh shower. You couldn’t help but ogle the drops of water that decorated his muscular body.

“…Are you.. the escort?”

Unable to form words, you swallowed your spit before speaking. “I.. I am.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the ground.

“Alright, make yourself comfortable.” He eyed you up and down, a mini towel in his hand to dry his hair. “Sorry you have to see me like this, excuse me while I put some clothes on.”

Is he not going to question anything?..

Your breath hitched, God, did he know I was eyeing him? “Okay..”

He turned around to go back to the bathroom, but looked over his shoulder as he was doing so. “Just call me Toji, we’re outside of work.”

You watched as Toji continued to walk away, “Well.. I’m basically working, aren’t I.” you muttered under your breath, making sure he doesn’t hear.

Looking around, you remembered that he owned this hotel. I should’ve known when I was going to the 43rd floor, he doesn’t let anyone in here.

You walked over to his bedroom, it was bigger than your own apartment. The sheets were neatly made, and a bottle of Malbec sat on a table near the window.

Placing your purse on small sofa, you removed your jacket, neatly folding it over the arm rest aswell.

You made your way to his closet, in search for a white robe. There was a robe on the hanger beside his freshly dry cleaned suits. You took it out, tracing your fingers over “The Ritz-Carlton” that was embroidered onto the front in cursive.

Sliding your dress off, you covered yourself in the robe, only the dark blue lingerie set underneath. Afterwards you tied a knot around your waist with the belt. Kicking off your heels, you placed them inside the closet, along with your dress that was neatly folded.

Although you were an escort, you made sure to clean up after yourself. You hated leaving a mess around, so you respected your clients by making sure to leave the place clean.

You could hear Toji walk into the bedroom. Closing the doors of the closet, you turned to him, and he was already busy getting the wine bottle open with a corkscrew.

Taking a seat on the armchair in front of him, causing you to be at crotch level with Toji. You watched as his arms flex each time he handled the bottle.

You noticed Toji was in a more relaxed outfit. He wore a dark grey cotton longsleeve that sculpted over his muscles like paint, with bottoms in a matching colour and fabric.

“Toji,” you called out his name.

The pouring of the wine stopped, his fingers gently pushing the glass towards you. “Hmm?”

Taking the glass by the stem, you twisted it between your fingers. “Do you regularly hire escorts?”

Toji walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. He sighed, looking at the city view in front of him. “No,” taking a sip, he continued. “This is my first time, actually.”

You did the same, but taking a tinier sip. You didn’t want to be tipsy while carrying out your service. It was too dangerous. “..Oh.”

Looking back at Toji, he was busy staring at the red liquid swirling around in the glass. “I dont even really know how they work.”

As you were about to take another sip, you paused. Your eyes looked at him over the rim of the glass, before placing it back down on the table.

“You can just do whatever you want with me, really.” You crossed your legs, exposing the bare skin on your thigh to him.

"I see," he nods, slightly leaning back onto the bed, using his hands for support.

"So, you made up your mind yet?" you got up from the arm chair, making your way to Toji who was on the bed. "What you wanna do?" You stood yourself between his legs, as he tried his best to hold himself back from pulling on the knot that was holding your entire robe together.

Toji's hands rested on your hips on top the robe, dangerously close to your ass. He made sure to bring you closer to him, almost pressing your chest to his face at this point. "I don't know," His free hand tugged on the knot of the belt, slowly unraveling it until the robe slid off your body. "Maybe you, if that's an option."

He could feel his cock strain against his pants as he took in the sight of you in nothing but lingerie, it felt like he was opening a present on his birthday. Blue was his favorite color.

You choked on your words at his response, he sure did have a way with his words. "I don't usually allow that, but maybe I'll let it slide tonight."

Toji caressed your wet lip with his thumb, gradually sliding it inside of your mouth as you sucked on it gently. He stops and moves you to the side by the waist, getting up from the bed.

Confused, you stay standing in front of the bed, watching Toji as he grabs something from the drawer. He eventually makes his way back onto the bed, but this time, leaning his head back against the head-board.

Toji takes out his wallet, pulling a $20 bill out and placing it on the nightstand beside him. "..Crawl over to me."

Your lashes flutter as you watched him place the bill on the night stand, you could only obey what he asked you to do. 'I'm just doing my job.. this doesn't mean anything. He will forget about this.' You constantly chanted this in your thoughts, completely disregarding the fact that he was your boss.

You crawled onto the bed, and slowly to him. Toji's eyes watched you closely making sure to tell you, "Stop," as you were just about to crawl onto his lap.

He takes out another $20 bill from his wallet, this time, two. Toji gently raised his knee, just enough for it to rub against your warm cunt that was covered by the lace panties. "Ride my leg, until I tell you to stop."

Aroused, which you are not meant to be, you couldn't help but sink yourself down onto his leg. Part of you wanted this, but you did at good job at not showing it.

You slowly started to move your hips back and forth on his lower thigh, placing both of your hands down in front of you for support. Toji's hardened cock begging to come out as he watched you closely.

If you were to lift up his top, you’d be able to see his leaking top peeking out of his waistband. The straps of your bra slowly fell down off your shoulders. Toji could almost groan at this lewd sight in front of him.

"Good girl," He did his best to hold himself back from holding onto your hips, "Keep going."

A spot on the fabric of his pants turned into a darker grey than before, your slick making its way through your panties. Nothing can be done.

Breathy moans started to crawl out of your throat, Toji noticing as you started to grind on his leg harder and slightly faster. "Stop."

You whimpered quietly as Toji retracted his leg from underneath you, observing the newly made wet spot on his pants. "Look at this mess you made all over me.."

Speechless, and breathless, you fell back onto your heels in front of Toji, he took another bill out, but this time $50.

"..I want that bra off." He slaps the bill onto the growing pile on the nightstand, followed by another 50. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. "And the panties. They're kinda annoying me now."

Doing exactly as he said, Toji's hand rested on his crotch, aching to palm himself through his pants. You slowly, but teasingly unclasped your bra, Toji clearing his throat by the time your tits were finally on display to him.

Followed by your soaked underwear, which at this point was no use. They managed to fly across the bedroom, hanging off a small statue that was on top of a console table.

He just wanted to wrap his mouth around each of them, or even motorboat your titties.

Toji propped himself up in a less relaxed position. "Lie down on your back, legs spread."

Your last sight was him before you fell back on to the bed, your head nearly hanging off the edge. Toji noticed your nipples hardened as soon as your skin made contact with the cold satin sheets. You felt the weight of the bed shift around, as Toji grabbed both of your legs by the thighs, positioning his head between them.

Squirming about, Toji peppered kisses on your inner thighs, his large hand wrapped around one of them. Wasting no time, he went straight to sucking and softly biting on your folds, using his tongue to lap at your bud until it was swollen. Moaning into your pussy, he softly massaged the flesh of your thigh, the vibrations from his grunts adding more to your stimulation.

Busy sucking away, wet noises from his tongue and the slick of your dripping pussy echoing throughout the bedroom. His hand reached behind him, then slowly went back over his shoulder. It was a $100 bill, tucked between his index and middle finger.

You were too busy hanging your head off the edge of the bed in pleasure, grabbing the sheets beside you and wrinkling them as Toji devoured you like he hasn't eaten for weeks.

The paper bill fell onto your stomach, tickling you slightly. You could feel Toji spit onto your pussy, the saliva trickling down almost into your hole before he slurped it back up, sticking his fingers in there instead. You felt them slide into you with ease, Toji swirling his warm tongue around on your clit.

"O-oh God.. To..ji." You managed to choke out a moan, your manicured hands clawing at his hair and eventually messing it up.

Letting go of your thigh, he used his now free hand to fondle with your breasts eagerly, twisting your nipples between his fingertips before giving them a slap.

One last lick on your clit, Toji removed his head between your legs, this time his whole body kneeling between them. You sneakily push up against him, his bulge through his pants grazing against your bare cunt.

Using your strength to lift your head from the edge of the bed, you watched as he took off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. Its neckline was soaked from eating you out earlier, but we don't talk about that.

Panting, his hands frantically rummage through his wallet. You noticed it was still bulky, as if the previous cash he pulled out didn't make any difference to the amount he had now.

Toji pulled out $1000 all in 20 bills, your eyes widening, wondering if he was serious.

"Please.. let me fuck you." Toji also sat back on his heels, $1000 in his hands as you were underneath him, fully naked. He just wanted to indulge himself in you, and if he could, he'd make this night last forever.

You slowly nodded, honestly begging to having his cock inside of you too. Before you knew it, your vision was filled with the $1000 raining down onto your body, and by your sides on the bed. He quickly pulled his bottoms down to his knees, before realising they were too annoying. He proceeds to fully kick them off.

Toji glances around the room for a condom, before you stopped him. "..Is it okay if we don't use one? ..I want to feel every inch of you."

You read his mind. "Anything you want, gorgeous."

His large hands shuffled through the pile of cash that was over your body, making sure that he could still see your tits and your beautiful face.

One hand grabbed onto your waist, and the other was used to align the tip of his cock with your hole. As soon as he slightly pushed the tip in, both of his hands were on your waist now.

Toji carefully slid in, making sure you take every inch of him. He closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels your plush walls clench around him, Tojis grip on your waist intensifying.

And, god was he big. In both cock, and Toji in general, he could destroy you if he decided to use full stength tonight.

"Y-you're too.. big," Toji not even halfway, you cry out, only wrinkling the sheets more to the point they weren't tucked into the frame hotel-style anymore.

You could feel both of his thumbs caress the soft skin of your sides as he cooed, "I know baby, I know," Toji let out a grunt as he tried to move in and out of you.

The difference of size between you and Toji made you throb, at this point he could just use his hands to fuck you on his cock back and forth like a doll in his grasp.

Toji starts to pant as he picked up the pace of his ruts, your tits bouncing, only adding to the pornographic sight in front of him.

Covering your face with your hands, you moan into them, the feeling of being full with Tojis cock was driving you mad. You could feel one hand let go of your waist, bringing it to your wrist to pull it away from covering your face.

The rustling of the cash beneath you and the sound of skin slapping echoed out into the living room from the bedroom. "Look at me when I fuck you," Toji says sternly, causing you to whimper in agitation as you did your best to keep your eyes on his.

"To..Toji.." You moan out, choking on your words as your hand grabbed onto his that was wrapped around on your waist.

"Come on doll, say my name." Turning feral, Toji pounds into you like a fleshlight. Voice shaking as you try to moan out his name, and by tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised if you lost your voice.

He comes to a halt, completely. Toji slides his cock out of you, a creamy white ring formed at the base. You whine before he hushes you. "Y'know what," He picks you up, cradling you in his arms.

You switch positions, instead you lock your legs around his waist, as the two of you made your way to the balcony door of the bedroom. Is he..

*click!*

Toji slid the glass door open, the two of you stepping out into the balcony. It wasn't cold, and you could see the still busy city carrying on with life underneath the hotel.

Suddenly, Toji peeled your legs off his waist, making you face the railing, and the city in front of you. You gasp as he roughly positioned your body, placing one leg up onto the rail, your two hands clutching onto the cold metal.

He slides into you again, but this time not allowing you to adjust. Toji immediately goes in with brutal force, your ass ripping against his pelvis as he drilled into you. On the balcony. For anyone to watch.

Toji spits again, his saliva falling onto your asshole and soon enough drips onto his cock that was continuously pounding in and out of you.

Your moans broke out into a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, Toji couldn’t help but smile at your reaction.

Both hands on your waist, Toji groans in pleasure and praises you non-stop for taking him like a good girl. His hand wrapped around your lower stomach as he felt you give in, your legs unable to support yourself. "You're doing so good for me," he whispers in to your ear, only to leave a trail of wet kisses down your back afterwards,

You moan continuously, for sure, everyone below could hear. Your hand made its way to Toji's nape, bringing him closer to you as he repeatedly fucked into your sweet spot.

"I’d do anything to be able to see a view like this one for the rest of my life," his left hand made its way down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles.

This just did it for you, lowly moaning, you let go of Tojis neck. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on the metal rail ontop of your same hands that were grabbing onto it. But a certain someone didn't let you do that.

Toji immediately grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back against his chest, taking your leg off the rail. You felt him interlock his hands around your inner elbow, suddenly fucking into you upwards as you grab onto his bicep for support.

"G-o-d Toji, please just f-u-ck your c-um into me." The enunciation of your words came out in bits, as Toji drilled up into you at a brutal pace.

He grinned against your necks skin, leaning further to plant kisses on your jaw."You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?"

You frantically nod, but that wasn't enough of an answer for a man like Toji.

"Oh baby, use your words." He purred into your ear, holding his orgasm to make sure you get it when you deserve it.

"I need it- I need it so ba-ad." You whimpered out, squeezing onto his bicep. "Please, Toji."

He whined, balls tightening as he heard you beg for him. You already drove him crazy, and that only drove him crazier. With one deep thrust, his movements come to a halt, allowing his warm, thick seed to fill you up completely.

Toji placed more kisses onto your back and your neck, making sure to never lose grip of you in case you go all jelly. Followed by him, slowly pulling his cock out of you, his load dripping out of your hole and onto the balcony flooring.

He stuck two of his fingers back into you, slowly fucking the load inside of you to make sure it stays inside. With his cum covered fingers, he slid the two of them past your lips and into your mouth. You sucked on them, humming as it covered your taste buds, and eventually swallowing.

Toji slapped your ass, and you yelped, giving him a glare. He chuckled before picking you back up bridal style, carrying you back inside the penthouse.

He gently and carefully placed you on the bed, quickly cleaning a bit of the mess you two made around the room.

"How about I go run us a nice bath, hmm?"

Fiddling with your thumbs, you watched as Toji neatly fold the pile of money together alongside the one on the night stand. Of course, it’s still yours. "That sounds good," You smiled as he walked over to give you a peck on the forehead.

The dripping of water from the bath tap rang throughout the room, Toji leaning back against you as the two of you were in the tub. You squeezed a sponge over his abs, the hot water dripping down his skin as he closed his eyes.

"..Toji," you called out his name, and he hums back in response.

You gently rubbed the sponge up and down his arm, "Would you say this counts as me working overtime for you?"

He smiles, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'll add another $500 bonus and a shopping spree if you ride me in this tub."

You scoff, letting go of the sponge as you sulk against the marble of the tub. "I'm literally stuffed with your cum. I think you had enough, thank you very much."

Toji only laughs, "Aren't you forgetting you got an asshole and that throat of yours? We can easily squeeze in three more rounds."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #jjk fushiguro

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Real Pretty

pairing: joel miller x reader

(AO3 mirror) summary: You and Joel are not in a relationship. But Joel gets jealous anyways. 

author's note: Timeline's a little hazy, au where Joel, Ellie and Y/N stay in Jackson and nothing bad happens ever. 

warnings: fluff, Joel's OOC as shit (what's new), filthy filthy smut (you have been warned), 18+ minors DNI

wc: 1.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can't stop staring. Oh god, he's pretty. You steal a glance at him with a mouthful of food by the canteen table. He's just woken up, by the looks of it: shirt a little wrinkled and hair all over the place. With a yawn, the base of his denim shirt lifts up to expose his tan belly, right at the v-line, with a dark tuft of hair leading right down to.. 

SLAM! Ellie bangs her tray on the table and clatters into her seat. 

"You look like shit." she says with a toothy grin. 

"And you smell like shit, you little gremlin." You snap, without missing a beat. Woah. Too much, maybe. 

She just laughs, her smile a bit wider, and that glint in her eye. "Oh yeah? Well I heard that somebody had a real good night yesterday." 

You pause to give Ellie a look. A look that says she's too young and too nosy. And, most importantly: what the fuck was she talking about? 

"That guy? Paulie or Peter or what's-his-face? Heard he slept over at the clinic." 

"Huh?" you splutter, almost choking on your food. 

"Kathy's mom saw him walking out of the clinic this morning. Using the backdoor. Everyone's talking about it." she tells you like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ellie, nothing happened. And if it did it would be none of your business."

"Uh-huuh." 

"I'm serious. Nothing. Happened. You should know better than to trust gossip. This kind of thing can be really hurtful and you're lucky I don't-" 

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Joel definitely doesn't know." 

"Joel doesn't know what?" He walks up and pulls out the chair next to you, plate of food in one hand.

"Somebody," she looks you dead in the eye. "boinked Petey last night in the clinic but doesn't want to admit it." 

That last line made you squint. Ah. Now you get it. Ellie's attempt at revenge for teasing her about a certain crush she 'doesn't want to admit'. Touché. 

"Boinked?" Joel coughs into his eggs. "Jesus, forget I asked."

~~~

Later, Joel meets you in the makeshift office of the clinic after hours. It had been surprisingly quiet considering the bustle of the previous week. So much so, that you jolt at the knock at the door. You forgot he was coming over to mend a broken cupboard. 

He comes with a toolbox and kneels by the cupboards, propping up the broken door with one hand and a screwdriver in the other. The very door you had struggled to open and close not too long ago. He had picked it up with ease, and you watched in awe as his hands took out the worn screws, dexterous and nimble. The room was so quiet, you couldn't help yourself. 

"I patched him up and worked late. He took one of the beds and was out like a light, I swear." 

"I believe you." He doesn't look up. Is he mad? Jealous, even? His face was stoic, unreadable and so you kept going. 

"I was just taking inventory. And I can handle myself, you know that or else I never would've taken the chance." 

"I know." Nothing. Again. You slump in your chair and watch him finish up in silence. 

"Sweetheart," he says, packing up. "You're thinking out loud again."

His voice is soft and it makes you melt. "Everyone thinks something happened Joel. They're gonna think I'm a slut, or something."

He pads over and kneels so he's level with you. Gently, Joel cups your cheek with one hand, and puts his hand on your thigh with the other. 

"That's because you are a slut, sweetheart."

He kneads your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your core. "You're the prettiest fuckin' slut I've ever seen." 

Your mind goes blank when Joel's like this. Voice as soft as butter whispering the filthiest shit whilst stroking your pussy. His fingers ghost over your jeans and you whimper. "I'm not a- fuck!" 

He dips his hand into your underwear. Soaking wet and he's barely touched you. He keeps it slow, drawing lazy circles around your clit whilst holding you close. 

"Don't like hearing those things about you. They don't see you -fuck - like I do. You didn't fuck him, darlin', I know that. But he wanted to. You can see it in his eyes." He's faster now, dipping a finger in and out your hole like it's his job. You hold onto his forearm to steady yourself and hump his hand. Desperately chasing your climax. 

"That's it, that's it. Good fuckin' girl. You wanna cum?" He asks and you nod your head dumbly. "Use your words, darlin'. Need'ta hear you say it."

"Yes, yes, please Joel…. wanna cum-" 

He nods and you throw your head onto his shoulder, shaking as you cum into Joel's hands. He pulls his hand out of your jeans and licks them clean with hooded eyes. He's hard, cupping himself over his trousers and rocking slightly to relieve the pressure. What a sight; Joel Miller on his knees for you, because of you. 

You grab him by the lapel of his shirt and fall into a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You motion to take off his shirt and start to strip yourself. When your shirt comes off he presses hot kisses into your bare skin; mumbling profanities into your collarbone and the peak of your tits. 

His pants come off and you reach to pump him; his tip red and sticky with precum. He groans and grabs your hand, lips plump and swollen from kissing you. 

"-shit, not yet," He helps you stand, and bends you over the desk, bow-legged. You're hot and sticky and desperate now, whining for him to fill you up-

-and he does, in one swift motion, without any warning or prep. "You're gonna take what I give you, ain't that right sweetheart?" 

You nod haphazardly, whining under his grip. His hips piston into you at just the right angle, so fast you're seeing stars. 

"No-one else can fuck you like I can, don't forget that. Next time, a little shit like Petey comes round, you tell him you're mine, won't you?"  You're babbling now, incoherent as pleasure builds in your gut. "All mine. All. Fuckin'. Mine." 

With that, a coil snaps, and your legs collapse under the pleasure that washes over you. Joel is quick to follow, turning you around so that when he cums on your stomach, he can see the bliss on your face. Gently, he picks you up like a blushing bride into the next room, onto one of the treatment beds. He gets a towel from the supply cupboards and cleans you up, kissing your forehead. He clambers in next to you. It's a tight fit but he manages to snake an arm around and pull you towards him. Soft breath in your ear as you both stare up at the mottled ceiling, speckled in fluorescent light. Well, he did, anyway. You turn to look at him. 

He was even prettier this close. Real pretty. 

#i neeeeeed him #look me in the eyes and tell me he's not possessive #joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x reader #kat_writes😼

[lunajay33]

Save a Horse🍂

Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader

Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose

Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎

•Masterlist•

The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road

Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope

My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days

Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane

“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia

I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it

After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by

Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front

Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks

“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling

“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him

“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong

“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope

“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest

“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”

“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company

“You like it?” He asked from the doorway

“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh

“How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”

“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”

“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”

He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks

“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like

He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs

“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy

“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”

“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”

“20 you?”

“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”

“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath

A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it

“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day

“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say

“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry

“You think I don’t hear you?”

“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is

“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn

OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long

I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name

“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid

“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”

“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me

“Just touch me”

He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face

“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”

“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses

“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile

“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed

Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked

“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire

“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs

“No, no one’s ever…..”

“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties

“Only you” I moan needing more

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him

“Stop!……keep it on”

“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked

“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good

“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet

“I need it please”

“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me

I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts

“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free

“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit

I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant

“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain

“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time

“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach

“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper

My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess

Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine

“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him

“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head

I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest

“I want more”

“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”

We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good

“Glad you found my horse that day”

“Me too Negan”

I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd negan #daryl dixon x reader #negan smith x you #negan #negan x you #negan smut #negan x reader #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan smith #negan smith x y/n #Negan cowboy #negan smith smut

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Flock of Birds

Pairing: levi x gn! Reader

Summary: You’re injured, disoriented, and alone in the middle of the forest with your thoughts. The rest of the Levi squad is dead. You’re hoping death comes sooner rather than later, but luckily your Captain finds you in time.

Warnings: angst, descriptions of violence, reader hoping for death, happy ending.

**something to get me back into writing, and apparently symbolism is hard for me to write. Takes place during season 2 and reader is apart of his og squad.

Their relationship can be read as romantic or platonic, it’s not really specified.

The birds never looked so free. A small flock flew above you in the typical ‘v’ form. Sasha said they do that to keep track of each other. To keep each other safe while migrating and make sure no one gets left behind. Were they ducks? No, no, they had to be crows. Maybe they’re- who cares?

You’re mind was fuzzy.

Vision was blurry.

And of course it had to be raining.

But… the sun was out and the sky was clear.

Then why was water running down your face? The slow tickle of the liquid trailed down your face and down your jaw until it fell on your white pants.

Blood.

Oh. That explains it.

How long have you been out here? What time was it.. what day was it?

The ringing in your ear slowly dissipates and your vision starts to clear. You’re sitting down.

Why? Captain Levi gave you and the rest of his squad orders to stop the Female Titan. This isn’t making any sense.

Where was Petra? Eld?

God, your head hurts.

Maybe they found their flock of birds and flew to safety? But without you?

Nothing makes sense.

All you can see are trees, granted you can’t even move your head around fully. But, the Scouts are in titan territory, this was no time to be sitting.

You try to move your legs that sprawled in front of you, but the small movement makes you release a strangled cry.

Oh. It’s all coming back now.

Your squad, no, Levi’s squad… they’re all gone.

The female Titan elbowed you while going after the others. You must’ve hit the tree and only suffered a few broken bones before you went unconscious.

Perfect.

The sun was starting to get lower in the sky and you realize the scouts must’ve made their way back hours ago.

A small and bitter laugh escaped you. This is how you die? Alone and surrounded by the corpses of your comrades? What a sick world.

Maybe, just maybe if you close your eyes, you won’t wake up. The painful yearning for death in your sleep was no more than a miracle. And miracles don’t happen. Not in this life.

No, a Titan is bound to grab you at any moment, squeezing your body in its hand until your bones crack and blood is pouring out of your mouth. Death only comes once its teeth bite down on your skull.

That’s how you’re supposed to die.

Then why weren’t there any titans?

Not that you minded, but it was very peculiar. This was prime Titan country and you should’ve been dead before you’ve even woken up.

A faint noise catches your attention. That sounds like… odm gear.

With your rotten luck, they’ll fly past you, not noticing you’re still alive. Thin tears leaked from your dehydrated body. You’ll have to suffer a cold night by yourself, then get plucked off the ground by a Titan once dawn approaches. If you’re lucky, you’ll die during the night.

“Captain!”

A voice shouted out as the odm gear sounded a lot closer now. It was a female voice.

Was it Krista? No, her voice is too soft.

Sasha? No, it couldn’t be.

“Captain, they’re alive!”

Oh, it was Mikasa. She was cool.

Thumps and the sound of the twigs and leaves snapping as the two made their way over to you.

Which Captain was it?

Wait, wasn’t there only one Captain?

Yes, he wasn’t just your Captain, he was your squad leader.

Your head tilted to the side and through half-lidded eyes, you saw Captain Levi standing there in shock. Mikasa quickly rushes over to you and scans you for any lethal wounds.

“T-they hit their head pretty hard it looks like.” She says with tears brimming her eyes. Levi finally snaps out of it and remembers his authority.

“Scan the area for any Titans until I get them on one of the branches.” Levi crouches down in front of you as Mikasa leaves. “Hey, hey, can you hear me?”

His hands carefully grasp at your face to steady your head. “Y/l/n, I asked you a question.” Your eyes locked with his. The sharp grey eyes bore into yours just like so many other times, but this time you could tell there was a sense of longing and concern within them. Your hand reaches out to grasp the wings of freedom patch on the shoulder of his jacket.

That’s when your emotions took over. Tears leaked from your eyes and you gave out a cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Captain. We t-tried to stop her.”

The disappointment in yourself rang through your body. You were still alive. Everyone else was dead. So why you? You were the first one down and couldn’t even follow your captains orders.

“Shut the hell up.” Levi interrupts your thoughts.

“You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” He breathes out and rests his forehead on yours. “Thank god.”

More tears. “B-but the others-”

“We can mourn when we’re all safe. Right now, we have to get you out of here.”

Levi takes out a roll of bandages and starts to bind them against your head wound. “Don’t die on me yet, kid.”

“I’m only a few years younger than you.” You gave him a weak smile.

“Save your energy, brat.”

There’s the Captain you know.

Once he bandages your wounds, he sets his arms under you to carry you. You let out a small cry at the movement of your leg.

“Shit.” He mutters and moves to take off his cloak. “There’s nothing I can do for the pain. Just hold on until we can get to the wagons.”

“Okay.”

His thumb wipes away a few of your tears and he rips a strip off his cloak and rolls it up. “We can’t have that loud mouth of yours attracting more of those ugly bastards.” He hold it up to your mouth.

“Bite.”

The cloth is pressed between your teeth and acts as a bite guard.

You couldn’t help the muffled groans of pain as he lifted your body up. He tied more pieces of his cloak around you both to act as a harness so you were strapped to his back.

“You alright?” Levi asked once he stood up. He only got a muffled grunt in response.

Without another word, he took off into the trees.

“Mikasa, let’s go! We’re meeting up with the others.”

The other scout soon joined you two and she gave you a worried glance.

Your arms were limply resting around Levi’s neck as he moved and your head turns to the side.

Birds flew next to you.

“To keep each other safe.” Sasha’s voice rang out in your head. “When my dad was teaching me to hunt, I always wondered why birds flew like that, too.”

“Aw, so they’re looking out for each other?” You asked, splitting your slice of bread in half and handing it to her. “That’s cute.”

She eagerly took it, “Yeah! It’s to make sure no one gets left behind and makes communicating easier.”

Who knew one of Sasha’s old stories would play through your mind at a time like this.

Levi landed on his horse and was careful with you and his own injured leg. The forest was becoming smaller and you could see the walls in the distance.

You’re gonna be okay.

Levi’s hand gripped both of yours around his neck and he held the reigns in the other.

Sorry fate, you weren’t getting left behind this time. Maybe miracles do happen. You might have lost some along the way, but the birds must stick together, especially in this world.

———

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @sad-darksoul @cullenswife

(If you wanna be added or removed, lmk!!)

#aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot drabbles #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi headcanons #levi angst #aot angst #aot x gender neutral reader #levi x reader angst #levi x gn!reader

[theemporium]

It was meant to be a cute date day out on the yacht during summer break.

You had dedicated a week of the summer break to spend in Monaco, to just relax and spend time with each other without the concerns of flying anywhere around the world (though you knew your boyfriends would have probably booked a few getaways for you to ‘surprise’ you with in the following week). And it had been perfect. 

You had spent some time with friends you missed during the first half of the season. You shared a few meals with the Leclerc family. You basked around your shared apartment and enjoyed being lazy after such a hectic schedule for the last few months.

It was Charles’ idea to take the yacht out on the water, and you and Lando had eagerly agreed.

Charles just didn’t really think it through. Between the hectic schedules, jet lag and hangovers that hit their bodies a little harder than not sometimes, it was rare to find moments to fully indulge in you and Lando without having some sort of stressor over your heads. 

Whether it was late nights with the risk of missing early morning meetings, or the fans spotting you as you stumble around a club together. Whether it was exhaustion taking over your bodies through work and travel, or even just one of you not being in the mood. It was harder than people assumed to just sleep with your two partners.

And it seemed like the weeks had built up for the Monegasque. 

His thoughts were anything but innocent when the three of you boarded the boat, waiting until you were a few minutes away from the dock before you shedded off some layers. His mind was spinning when Lando pulled his shirt off, the low-rise swimming trunks giving him the perfect view of his tanned torso, chiselled abs and v-line disappearing beneath the waistband of the trunks. His head was going to explode when you pulled your cover-up off, exposing a little red bikini number he had never seen you wear before as you pranced around the boat without a care in the world.

Charles Leclerc was losing his damn mind, and it was purely his partners’ faults.

It took an hour before either you or Lando noticed how touchy and clingy Charles was. It wasn’t something completely out of the ordinary for Charles’ hands to linger or for him to place a few chaste kisses here and there—but this was something else. 

You noticed the way his fingers would always trace along the waistband of Lando’s trunks whenever he was within arms length. You noticed the way his gaze would always drop to his stomach and wander lower. You noticed the way his fingers playfully tugged on the strings of your bikini top. You noticed the way his focus always seemed to be on your lips whenever you spoke to him. 

You noticed the bulge in his swimming trunks, but he wasn’t doing much to hide it either.

“Is this what you wanted, Charlie? Wanted to see our pretty girl on her knees?” 

Charles let out a groan as his head fell back against Lando’s shoulders, his hands reaching back to hold the boy close to him as he tried not to come in seconds. Because he could have. He could have done so far too easily and he didn’t really want to deal with the embarrassment of it. Nor did he ever want this moment to end.

“Look at her,” Lando murmured, his voice a little breathless as his eyes locked on you. “She’s so good for you. Fucking lucky too.”

“Wanna be good for both of you,” you murmured, the fabric of your bikini top abandoned somewhere by one of the deck chairs as you squeezed your tits together. You leaned forward, bouncing up and down as your tits enveloped Charles’ sensitive cock. 

“You’re so good, cherie,” Charles mumbled breathlessly, his chin tucked against his chest as he looked down at you. He bit down on his lower lip, a muffled moan leaving his lips as he watched the way his cock slid between your tits, the way your tongue darted out to tease his tip, the way your eyes never left his. “Feel so fuckin’ good too.” 

“She always looks pretty with your cock,” Lando murmured, trying not to sound too whiny but Charles read right through him as he turned his head, his lips pressing against the Brit’s in seconds. “Mphm.”

“Don’t be jealous, mon cher,” Charles murmured as his tongue darted out to tease the Brit who whimpered in response. “M’gonna take care of you too.”

“Yeah?” Lando whispered, blinking a little dazed. 

“Yeah,” Charles groaned as his hand reached back to tangle his fingers into Lando’s curls, keeping his lips close as he playfully nudged their noses together. “Need you to be a good boy for me too, gonna need you to clean up the mess I make on her tits, okay?”

Lando whined, nodding his head.

“Mes amours,” Charles groaned proudly before kissing Lando senseless, letting his other hand gently caress your head as you continued to squeeze his cock between your tits until he blew his load all over you.

.

#cece's smutober #charlando #charles le #lando norris #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris smut #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #formula one smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot #f1 smut

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

You came — you called. II (+18) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦ PART I ✦ Word count: 2.2k ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ✦ Summary: After having a little non-friendly chat with your abuser, Simon comes back home to find you asleep in his bed. ✦ TW and general warnings: +18 NSFW, SMUT, lots of porn, p in v unprotected, some dirty talk, size difference implications, he's got a big cock, fluff, open ending sorta ✦ AO3 | Masterlist

A/N: well, since you guys liked part I and I was so fucking inspired I decided to write part 2; honestly thinking of writing a part III I seriously need to stop 😭 I hope you guys enjoy it! x

taglist: @abbiesxox

2am - world was on fire and no one could save me but you

“Y’know,” Simon starts, his legs spread across the armchair. His chin rests on his hand, nothing on his face but an indifference fashion, almost like the blood dripping from that guy’s mouth was another Tuesday to him. “You’re quite lucky, mate.” He stretches and leans his body forward. His elbows rest on his knees and he bends low enough to stare eye to eye into the face of the man who dared laying hands on you. “Know why?”

Your abuser flinches, and doesn’t answer; he couldn’t even if he wanted to. 

His body doesn't move more than inches without feeling pain. He had lost count of how many kicks it took Simon to take him to that state - when you said your ex boyfriend was in the military, he didn't imagine that kind of military. There wasn't even a report he could possibly make. It didn't have a face, it didn't have a name - all he knew was that this man, your punisher in the skull mask, coded himself as Ghost.

And he knew that this man - this living ghost, this new alive fear of his, had made him spit blood for every slap, every squeeze, every bruise he left on your body. It would be too much for your tired, melancholic head to notice that whenever he contoured one in your back as he gave you a bath, he was counting. To each one, he’d punch him twice. Face, legs, stomach. He wanted to see blood.

“No?” He asked, licking his lips. “You fuckin’ pussy…” He scoffs, his voice ever so low, almost a whisper - almost like he could wake you up in his house, from this distance, by talking loud. “Because if it wasn’t for my girl, you’d be dead now.”

To your abuser’s silence, Ghost stands up and steps off avoiding the bleeding fucker in front of him. “And let it be known, I am not one to make noise. If you come after her again, you won’t know where the shot came from.” He states over his shoulder, before opening the door and leaving it open for the ambulance that’s yet to come - because, especially after you, he’s not a monster. Just a ghost.

4am - strange what desire will make foolish people do

The shower is on. You don’t hear it, blame it on your tough sleep; can barely hear your own alarms when it’s morning. 

It is almost morning. In a few hours, the sun will rise in the horizon of the simple window by Simon’s bed side and invade the room - equally humble - annoying you. Right now, although the sky is still dark blue, the only light source poorly illuminating the room is the dim, yellow light that comes from the bathroom while Simon finishes his much deserved bath. 

The bloodstained hoodie and his mask are thrown aside in the laundry basket and now quietly replaced for a pair of sweatpants - his pajamas. He walks towards you in mute steps, the mattress sinking from the pressure of his two hands against it, on either side of your waist. You feel the warmth of his freshly bathed body against your skin as he shelters you from the night cold breeze with his own body. It covers you entirely, and you mumble in your sleep, “Mmm, Simon.”. 

“Hm…” His raspy voice asks, against your ear; your body, still drunk in sleep, shivers at the contact. You move slightly, while his nose brushes against your cheek, and continues down to your neck. Simon takes your smell in like a drug, shit, how painfully hard he misses you.

“You’re back…? Hm- what time is it?” You ask in a drunken voice.

His hand caresses your bare thigh under your shirt, his thick palm scraping up your skin till he reaches your belly; it covers, almost entirely. You mewl, “Simon…”

“Late.” He replies simply, warmly, against your ear. His dog tag swings in the short space between the two of you, and brushes against your chest. You turn a little, now awake enough to be able to speak at least, and your eyes meet his staring at you, drinking in the details as if all that time away from you has made him forget how beautiful you look when you just woke up.

“You smell good.” You admit in a mutter, feeling his hand sliding up from your belly to your waist in explicit desire. Though the two of you reluctantly tried to withdraw from each other, you couldn't deny it - it was mutual. “Are you calm now?” You ask, your hand takes hold of his dog tag and your index finger wraps around the chain; slowly, you wrap yourself around his neck, and before he can answer you, your lips take his in a quick kiss.

“No…” He replies against your mouth, in a breath. The sound of fabric moving fills the room as he repositions himself over you, and his hand moves up, tracing your curves to the top of your breast and cupping it; “Needin’ you right now.” He whispers in between slow, passionate kisses you both share. 

Your leg curls around his waist as you kiss him desperately, like he could vanish from

your hands any second. “Ask me.” you whisper against his lips and your hand grasps his dirty blond strands as his hand tightens around your breast. “I like it when you ask…”

He closes his eyes feeling a chill rise in his belly hearing you moan, and smirks in both pleasure and pride knowing he was the one to cause it. 

“Can I fuck you?” He complies, pushing his hips against you almost unconsciously, and you feel your body burn, feeling the big bulge in his pants press into your core through the fabrics that separate the two of you.

In one deft movement, Simon lifts your shirt up to your face level and you obediently offer to hold it between your teeth as his mouth proceeds to feast on one of your breasts while his hand massages the other.

“Simon- ah…” You groan, as your body uncontrollably squirms a bit and your lower half pushes up against him, begging him for some more.

Your body relaxes as your soft spots tighten, and after minutes of satisfying your needy breasts, sharing his tongue's attention between the two of them, Simon finally starts to run his wet kisses down your belly - calm as a sea breeze, hot as hellfire, different than it usually is when the two of you meet on an empty night, still enraged by the last time you left each other, fueled by hate, no - this time it's something different. 

“I still think about you everytime, y’know, kitten?” He admits with a faint smirk as his hands pull your panties down your legs and quickly get rid of them, exposing now your needy and soggy core to his own view. “Nobody tastes sweet like you.” 

His hand cups your ankle and he spreads your legs; his other hand cups your pussy, his fingers parting your folds as his middle finger rubs you slowly, torturously in that sweet spot of pleasure. 

“S-Shut up…” You try to say, but your voice is caught in your throat by a sudden moan as his tongue takes place between your legs. In circular, slow and skillful movements, he sucks on your swollen clit - whatever you wanted to say is now replaced by heavy gasps and low, muffled moans as you bite down on your hand trying to hold it back. He disapproves, almost instantly, with a tight squeeze on your thigh and you can’t hold back a loud groan in response.

When he feels you're getting too close to your climax, Simon swaps the intense, slow strokes for even slower ones, his tongue barely touching your clit yet - that tiny tip of contact causing all you get is the intense desire and the twitching of your legs in a near-orgasm that's thwarted so many times, it gets you insane. 

“Simon, p-please for fuck sakes…” You cry, your eyebrows furrowed in lust. His cock almost pierces the sweatshirt at this point, his veins visible on every possible part of his body - his arms, his temples, his crotch that shows when he straightens up over you as his pants lower to his waist, with that small clump of hair showing. “Don’t fucking make me beg…” You curse once again.

His tattooed arm grabs your waist and moves you over him; his hand grips your ass and moves you against his lap, your hands look for support around his shoulders and your hips instinctively continue the movements he started.

“Take it, c’mon.” He teases you. “It’s fuckin’ ripping my pants already, baby.” He grunts in your ear, his breath gets heavier when he pulls down his pants only enough so he can pull off his rock-hard large twitching cock; he stares into your face as his hips press forward, running his length against your slit, slowly. 

“Ah, fuck.” You curse under your breath as you lift your hips until his tip is against your entrance, and slowly start lowering yourself. Simon holds back a growl as your tight walls begin to swallow his cock, inch by inch, slowly. It's almost too much for you, like you lost practice by fucking guys that were smaller than him; it’s not a hard deal - he’s really too big. His fingers dig onto the skin of your waist trying to restrain himself as he holds you steady and gives you some time to get used to his length filling your whole cunt. 

His low groans flood your ears as after a few painful seconds, you begin to move up and down, slowly at first but quickly getting faster, deeper - the excruciating pain of feeling him stretching you up entirely as if it was your first time again, gives in to the deep pleasure of having him hitting your spot each time you thrust against him.

Simon is a groaning, gasping mess beneath you; his hips move uncontrollably against yours, he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it back exposing your cleavage to him, so he can suckle onto your soft skin - leaving marks all over you.

“Mine, aren’t you.” He groans while fucking you hard, kissing all over you like a dog who crawls back to its owner. “You feel so fuckin’ good- ah-” he takes you in a sloppy kiss, your hands digging his back in raw flesh; 

“Y-Yours.” You reply in a gasping voice, almost out of air yourself. 

Without much time to tell beforehand, your eyes roll up and his movements grow faster. You grab his shoulders, feeling your own climax start to flood through your body intensely, your legs tighten and your walls tighten against him; your clit throbs, and you grunt.

“Simon- I love you-” You moan, and your inability to keep moving now, with all your muscles suddenly relaxed and your cunt painfully overstimulated by his continuing thrusts, causes him to grab your waist from both sides and lift you without further difficulty - like you’re lightweight. He fucks you through your orgasm with his thrusts getting stronger - feral, animalistic, as his stomach tightens and his muscles jump even more defined than they already are, a few beads of sweat trickle down his chest as he grunts in pleasure. 

Simon pulls out the instant he feels that crossing of lines where his consciousness loses itself to pleasure and surrenders completely to you - fast enough to spend himself on your thighs, partially, in a mess of grunts and gasps. 

Your body collapses onto his and he holds you, both of you still trying to recover from so much intensity in so little time. Little by little, he regains consciousness as he smells your hair against his nostrils; vanilla ice cream. And then, the feeling of your body against his, your thin arms seeking support around his neck - your voice, saying you love him.

Minutes later, after taking care of your needs - water, a hot shower, another clean pair of clothes, you finally find yourself snuggled in his arms. Simon’s eyes are fixed on your face, and he looks tired, but not willing to fall asleep anytime soon.

The tip of his finger caresses your arm, and the morning sun starts to come through the window.

“Do you think we’ll ever work together?” You break silence, gazing through his eyes with uncontrollable love. He sighs tired, and after a couple seconds, replies.

“I’ll break your heart once or twice; you’ll break mine. Isn't that how every relationship is supposed to work?” 

“Yes, but if so, why didn’t it work before then?” You close your eyes. He caresses your scalp, your beautiful hair, and closes his eyes as well.

“You look beautiful in the morning.” He mutters. “Not only in the morning, of course.”

“Simon…”

“Come back to me.” He asks, and it sounds like begging. Like crawling. 

You open your eyes, but his are still closed. You smile.

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #cod fic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod ghost #cod mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x reader

[alexialuvrr]

I Put My Hand On A Star, To See If I Still Bleed

Alexia isn't playing well after returning from her injury and needs to feel something.

(AU where Arsenal and Barça are in the same group in the 2023/24 UWCL)

CW: smut, sub!alexia because there isn't enough of it in this world, strap-on, lil bit of blood

Back during the 2021/2022 season, you and Alexia would hook up all the time. She barely spoke English and you barely spoke Spanish, but during an Arsenal V Barça game, you both felt an attraction for the first time, a connection, and that connection turned into a hook up at a hotel after the game. This happened again after the teams' next meeting, and after that, whenever you were in Spain or she was in England for whatever reason, you two would meet up and hook up at some hotel, always in secret. This was never spoken about between the two of you, whenever you were at award shows, you'd see eachother, perhaps make casual conversation with as much of the other's language as you could, but almost always in the company of other players.

It'd been over a year since the two of you had hooked up, you'd seen eachother at the Euros, but her injury kept you two from doing you usual thing, and there was far too much going on at the World Cup for you two to do it either.

The next time you saw eachother was in a Champions League group stage match in Barcelona. She looked different, her hair was platinum blonde, she looked older, more mature, and the innocence that was in her eyes before was gone. It worried you a little, it made you sad to see her like that, clearly in emotional pain, but there was something about it that attracted you to her- that loss of innocence. She had always been older than you, a good ten years older than you, but you never really noticed it until now, her maturity was showing and you liked it. Everything about the way she looked had lost its innocence, had changed since you last saw her. You didn't know exactly why you liked it so much, why it turned you on so much, but it did.

She scored in the second half after a string of missed shots. It wasn't a brilliant goal, but it was a goal all the same. You watched her as she celebrated, no smile crossed her face like it used to, and as she turned away from the crowd you saw a look of deep contemplation in her eyes as she looked down-

She knew she wasn't in form, not that she could expect to be so soon, but it was still hurting her. She wanted a better goal, several goals. A better game.

Katie scored a few minutes later, bringing the scoreline level, until Aitana scored in the 68th minute, and the match ended like that, Barça 2-1 Arsenal.

You shook hands and hugged after the match, you asked her if she was okay, you hadn't seen her smile the entire time, not even after the final whistle. She hesitated before nodding, and then leaned in closer to you before whispering "What hotel are you in?"

You told her the name of your hotel, as well your room number, letting her know you could do it there. You were lucky that you were rooming alone on this trip, last time you'd had to fuck Alexia in another hotel a few miles away from the team's, and you barely made it back in time before they noticed you were gone.

"No roommate?" she asked.

"No, we have the room to ourselves, the whole night."

"Ten O'Clock." she said.

"I'll see you then."

She ran her hand across your waist as she walked away, the first touch of affection you'd gotten from her in a long time, and you needed it. You missed that feeling more than anything, it was like a drug- the strongest drug you'd ever had.

Ten O'Clock couldn't come soon enough. There was still half an hour to go. You were talking with the girls in Leah's room, and you couldn't stop glancing at your watch, lamenting how slowly the hands were moving.

"Why do you keep checking your watch?" Katie asked.

You looked up, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Um, I dunno," you were panicking, "I think it's broken, the hands aren't moving right, I'm gonna go get my digital one."

This was a lie of course, there was nothing wrong with your watch, but you did need to get out of the room for a moment and make sure everything was ready in yours.

You opened the door to find Alexia on the bed, who sat up quickly as the door opened.

"What are you doing here? It's not ten yet."

Alexia didn't say anything, instead she quickly lifted herself off the bed and walked towards you pulling you in for a kiss, her hands grabbing your shirt just below the collar. The kiss was eager and breathy, passionate, and it became clear to you why she was early. You pulled her body in closer, with your hands on the back of her waist. Her lips moved to your neck, making you lose your breath for a moment, her movements still eager and passionate. You toyed with the hem of her shirt, subtly asking for permission, before she took it off herself, tossing it aside. She quickly unbuttoned yours and pulled it off you by running her hands over your shoulders and underneath the fabric, admiring how muscular you were, more so than the last time you'd met. She wasn't the only one who looked more mature.

A slight pause in her movements led you to pick her up and place her on the desk at the side of the room, your hands roamed her thighs as you stood in-between them, and you began to tug at the fabric that was still covering them as you kissed her. As you did, her arms left the position of being wrapped around your neck and travelled down your torso, one landing on your waist and the other over your crotch. Her breath hitched and she pulled away from the kiss as she felt the bulge of what you were packing. It was big, bigger than anything she'd taken before, and she liked that, she needed that. Her eyes darkened sensually, and she gripped it tighter, causing a wave of pleasure to move through you. You backed away from the desk pulling her off of it so she could remove her trousers as you undid your belt and removed yours. She sat herself back on the desk and pulled you in towards her lips. You kissed down her neck and her chest, moving her to lean back slightly as you dipped a finger into her core- she was more than wet enough, it was beginning to coat the insides of her thighs so you knew she needed to be fucked more than anything.

"You ready?" you asked, your voice low.

"Yes." she said, breathlessly, needily. You loved when she spoke English, her strong accent made it so sensual.

You kissed her softly once more before looking down, you held her by the hips and slowly put your cock in her and she groaned at the pain as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you right into her body. Her whimpers and moans turned you on more than anything, you loved how she sounded when you fucked her. The raw skin on skin contact felt incredible, you loved feeling this close to her, you needed it. With you inside her and her legs wrapped around your waist, you picked her up again and placed her down gently on the bed. You sped up and her whimpers turned into whines, echoing around the room. She bit her lip to try and stop herself, but it didn't help. You slowed down and increased the pressure and depth of your thrusts, which turned her whines into loud, open-mouthed moans. You kissed up her neck and her cheek as you fucked into her, knowing that she would appreciate the intimacy now, given what you were about to do.

You knew how she liked to be fucked, and how she wanted to be fucked, even if she hadn't said it, that was part of your connection, you just knew.

You pulled out of her slowly and whispered in her ear, "Turn over."

She did as she was told, turning over to lay on her stomach. You admired the view infront of you, her muscular back, her thighs, and the best ass you'd ever seen.

You slipped it back in her again, and she moaned, gripping the bedsheets as she did, her hands above her head.

You lowered yourself onto her back, getting that raw skin on skin contact as you rubbed together that you both loved so much.

The friction on her back made her seek friction on her front, desperate for some pressure on her clit, making her moans and whimpers grow louder with overstimulation.

"Shh sh sh." you whispered, stroking her hip, remembering that the other girls were in the room next door.

She quietened slightly, biting the bed sheets.

"That's it, you can take it, you're doing really well." You praised, and she really did deserve it.

"Get up on you knees for me." you said.

She always did as she was told when you had her like this.

She got up on her knees quickly, her back arching and her arms out infront of her, grasping the bed sheets.

"I'm sorry princesa, this is really going to hurt."

You took your cock out, noticing how it was glistening, covered in her arousal, and you slipped it in her ass. She was much tighter there, and you could feel it as you fucked into her. She cried out in both pain and pleasure, and she quickly propped herself up from her elbows onto her hands, unsure how to deal with the intensity of it all. Even between gasps and moans, her mouth remained open.

"You're okay, I've got you." you said, holding onto her hips and rubbing gently with your thumb.

She whimpered, nodding slightly, then dropping her head.

"Good girl."

You kissed up her spine and placed gentle, soft kisses on her hips. Her breathing was shaky and tears began to run down her cheeks, but she didn't want you to stop, not for one second. She hadn't felt this much in months, and she needed it.

You sped up, seeing her body rock back and forth, under your complete and total control, was beautiful. She was beginning to bleed, but she showed no signs of wanting to stop, and you found beauty in that too.

Blood and arousal were dripping onto the bedsheets, not that you cared, all that you cared about was pleasuring Alexia. Seeing her cry from pain and ecstasy was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, she'd moved back to holding herself up on her elbows and had her hands clasped together, trying to cope with the pain and overstimulation. After a few minutes, you could tell she was getting used to that pain, as her whines and whimpers turned into moans.

You decided it was time to add to her pleasure by placing two fingers into her core. She gasped at their sudden presence, but she was soaked from the inside out and her dripping cunt welcomed you without any resistance.

She moaned in pure ecstasy at your movements inside her, as you were stroking gently with a steady pace matching the one you were fucking her ass with.

Her reactions were becoming more erratic and you knew she was close. She moved her arm from it's position of support and held onto your wrist and hand, pushing you further inside her slightly and giving her more pressure on her clit, as she let her forehead fall to the bed. She was purely in pursuit of pleasure. She looked so gorgeous this way, totally at the mercy of her own body.

You leant down onto her back again.

"You ready to come for me princesa?" you said, pressing open mouth kisses against her back, dragging your teeth across her skin, leaving red marks.

"Ye- yes, please." she said, breathlessly

"Such a good girl, aren't you Ale?" you said, smiling. The question was rhetorical, and she knew that, she knew it was just to remind her of what made her a good girl- being fucked bloody and teary-eyed, crying in pleasure on her knees, desperately holding your hand inside her with your palm against her clit.

She moaned one last time, her jaw slack, eyes closed, head thrown back then dropped forward as her back arched and her legs shook. You slapped her ass hard as she came, adding to her waves of pleasure as you came a moment later. Both yours and Alexia's movements continued through her orgasm as you let her ride it out.

"Look at you, you did so well." you smiled, you were so proud of her, she'd never taken it like that before.

You pulled out of her and discarded the strap, tossing it onto the chair.

She turned around to face you, sitting on the bed with you kneeling in front of her. She wiped tears from her eyes and noticed the bed sheets.

"Did I bleed?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"Yeah, you did." you replied, helping her wipe the tears away.

She was still shaking so you pulled her close to you, her head resting on your chest, and you began stroking her hair as she closed her eyes and a final few tears fell gently down her face.

You helped her off the bed as she winced and whimpered from the pain of moving.

"It's okay," you reassured her "it'll hurt less tomorrow."

She held onto you tightly as you helped her move. You pulled back the duvet and helped her lay down slowly. Her breathing was heavy and her whimpers didn't stop. You loved seeing her like this. You got into the bed yourself and pulled the duvet up to cover the pair of you. As soon as you did, she rolled over, seeking contact and comfort from you. She placed a long soft kiss on your lips before laying her head on your chest and placing her hand beside her face, her palm on your skin, right over your heart. She kept her legs closed, it being too painful to open them, and you placed one hand on her back, stroking up and down slowly, and letting the other just rest on her waist. You were both exhausted, and you fell asleep quickly after that.

You were awoken the next morning by the sound of the girls talking next door. You checked the time, it was half past ten, you'd slept for nearly twelve hours. It was then that Katie and Leah suddenly walked into your room, you quickly pulled the duvet over Alexia's head- it was still obvious that you had a woman in bed with you, but at least they wouldn't know who it was, or so you had thought until you remembered there was a jacket with a Barcelona logo on it slung over the chair, which you saw Leah notice as Katie was looking at you.

"So this is why you didn't come back to Leah's room last night- I shoulda known." Katie laughed.

"C'mon Katie, let's leave them be." Leah smiled. Always the more mature out of the pair.

You pulled the duvet back down, revealing Alexia's face, you ran a hand through her platinum blonde hair, and smiled.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso community #womens football #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso smut #woso imagine #woso x reader

[chrisevansonly]

𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 = 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝? | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

᪥social media fic

᪥charles should have known when he started dating you that he’d end up around the horses as much as you are

᪥another charles post, also because i grew up riding and still do so this was v special for me❤️

y/n’sinsta

liked by longlinestour, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 5M others

such a great few days in Paris for the Longlines Championship Tour! my girl never fails to disappoint and i’m so happy with our results, merci beaucoup Paris!!🤍

tagged longlinestour

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username yay!! congratulations y/n!!

username i was there, you rode beautifully!!

scuderiaferrari we think coco needs some red in her life

liked by charles_leclerc and y/n’sinsta

>y/n’sinsta coco would agree ❤️

charles_leclerc so proud of you mon ange, you and coco did amazing❤️❤️

>y/n’sinsta thank you charlie, couldn’t have done it without you there❤️❤️❤️

username my favourite power couple 😭😭

danielriccardo save a horse ride a cowboy right @/charles_leclerc?

>charles_leclerc 🙂🙂🙂

y/n’sinsta added to their story!

weeklyformulagossip

liked by formulawags, f1gossip, username and 3K others

charles recently spotted in france for his girlfriends show jumping tour!! he took photos with fans before getting into a car and heading towards the venue in paris! when asked about y/n he said ‘i’ve never been more proud of her in my life’ queue our crying

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username he talked about y/n and coco for so long and then realized he’d be late if he didn’t leave 😭

username he’s such a horse girl now 😂

formulawags we loves charles as a wag🤭

username THESE TWO 😭

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n’sinsta, pierregasly, longlines, f1 and 9M others

thank you for allowing me to watch you shine and do what you love best in the world. I am extremely lucky to see you and coco in your element almost everyday, je t’aime tellement chérie, je suis très fière de toi ❤️❤️

tagged y/n’sinsta

longlines so great to have you join us charles!!

pierregasly charles is in his horse girl era

>landonorris cowboy charles

>charles_leclerc how about you both shut up

username THE GIRLS ARE ARGUING!

y/n’sinsta oh charles 🥹🥹

y/n’sinsta i love you, thank you for supporting me and loving me the way you do, i’m so lucky to have you mon bébé

>charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️

username I CANT HANDLE THESE TWO😭😭

y/n’s insta added to their story!

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #charles leclerc fake instagram #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fake social media #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x girlfriend reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x wife reader #formula 1 masterlist

[tremendum]

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Me and the Devil; i

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next

word count: 5.3k

summary:  Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.

notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33

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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation

In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041. 

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There was once a time when green was your favorite color. 

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you. 

When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones. 

Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.

Black, white, and red. 

They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.

Your na-Baron. 

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could. 

After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then. 

The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already. 

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet? 

After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands. 

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger. 

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.  

He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms. 

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.

Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change. 

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.

There is a loud noise just outside; blades. 

For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again. 

You almost wish he will. 

When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.

You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in. 

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.

The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage. 

Why did you wait so long to rescue me?

You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left. 

Your blade falls within minutes.

You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after. 

You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour. 

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"My Lady."

You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty. 

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.

Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.  

He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head. 

He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan. 

Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs. 

You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.

Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.

 Hello, sister.

You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green. 

There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him. 

But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke. 

Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.

"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy. 

Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore. 

Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat. 

"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home." 

"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.

For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday. 

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.

Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play. 

Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. 

Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted. 

You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted. 

Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves. 

"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you. 

It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss." 

Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier. 

Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.

"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."

The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon." 

What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer. 

The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead. 

When you respond, your voice is frigid. 

"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution." 

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The rain is gone by the next day.

In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water. 

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes. 

Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures. 

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night. 

Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed. 

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you. 

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows. 

And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.

Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold. 

After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."

His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten. 

"Are you one of them?" 

Them?

You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut. 

"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.

You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators. 

Paul is likely the same. 

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years. 

His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit." 

Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes. 

After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."

When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.

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"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.

He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him. 

She is telling the truth. 

His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty. 

But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.

But his father's words burn sharply into his mind. 

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.

By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him. 

"I was supposed to be a lot of things." 

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.

You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition. 

You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone. 

Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person." 

Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him. 

So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.

"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle." 

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.

An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing. 

"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land." 

The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat. 

"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me." 

He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please. 

His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.

His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him. 

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#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul atreides i need you so bad #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #me and the devil; series #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune fanfiction #dune smut

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓞𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼

Javier Peña x afab!reader

Summary: You’re a sociology student writing your final thesis, you shouldn’t care whether the new DEA attaché is an asshole, you shouldn’t be getting on his nerves every chance you get, shouldn’t be dreaming of him the way you do, and you certainly shouldn’t be bent over his desk in the middle of the night– letting him fuck you senseless.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, big girthy age gap [reader is in her early twenties Javier is in his mid 40s], petnames [sweetheart, girlie, baby, babygirl etc], smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy kink, dom!Javi, mean brat tamer! javi, sub!reader, major size kink, reader is a menace and a brat, cheek pulling, like two spanks and a slap, minor choking, degradation, name calling, fingering, semi public sex [in his office], rough sex, unprotected P in V [don't do it you’re better than them!!] let me know if I missed anything!!

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: Lotsa porn, lotsa plot. Filthier than I’d like to admit but here we are. Javier is emotionally unavailable but I don’t care. Enjoy nasties. Mwah 💗

Masterlist

My old man is a bad man, but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me

He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

You were sure you looked nothing short of unstable– the way you were smiling to yourself as you hit the ‘submit’ button on the first checkpoint of your research paper. The past few months had been absolute chaos, and you weren’t really sure what was worse; the fact that your workplace had become an HR nightmare, or the way you were enjoying every goddamn second of it. 

Not long ago you’d been lucky enough to pack your bags and board a flight to Bogotá, where you were going to be writing your final sociology thesis. You’d fought tooth and nail with the department for this opportunity, and the fact that you were finally going to be there doing the work you’d always imagined– it was a dream. While you were initially a little weary of having to go through the American embassy to access records, and archives, you knew this was the best deal you were going to get, so you pushed your hesitation aside and took them up on their offer. You were obviously aware the department was going to give you hell for it– your work would be put under immeasurable scrutiny, they were going to bother you with emails all day every day, snoop around your work through their contacts at the embassy, and take any chance to fly you back. But it didn’t matter; it was going to be a dream. 

Impressing the ambassador was your top priority, impressing everyone around you really was. For as long as you could remember your bright smile, hard work and sunshine attitude had only worked in your favor. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was the great privilege of being all your professors’ favorite student. That’s how you’d even convinced them to let you travel thousands of miles away on the university’s dime in the first place. 

The world of academia was hard, especially when you were starting out, everyone you dealt with wasn’t a progressive professor who valued your opinion despite your age and gender. Sometimes you needed help from the sleazy HOD, or the grumpy receptionist and neither cared about your expertise on Helmut Schoeck. It didn’t bother you, all you cared about was the quality of your work, and you were not going to let anyone get in the way of it. So, if good work and behaviour didn't get you what you wanted you just used your batting eyelashes, innocent pout and harmless bribes– the receptionist had mentioned liking strawberry shortcake nearly two years ago in passing, and that information sure as hell came in handy when you needed to get your paperwork sorted out. 

Boy did that skill of yours come in handy during your time in Bogotá

No one was going to make this experience anything but splendid, you were going to get to the embassy, meet the ambassador, charm her and all her coworkers in no time, make some trusted allies and go about your research unbothered and unfazed. You were determined. It was going to be a dream. 

That was until it was an absolute nightmare. The moment your plane’s wheels hit the tarmac you were slapped with wave after wave of absolute frustration. Your phone was inundated with missed calls from an unknown number, and when you called back you were promptly informed by the Ambassador’s secretary that due to spacing issues you were being relocated to the DEA offices at the far end of the embassy. 

Great, nothing better than being around a bunch of cops 24/7 .

You hadn’t made it three steps off the aerobridge before two men– both of whom looked terribly out of place in their baseball hats, grabbed you by the arm and dragged you through the airport. You wouldn’t say the word ‘accosted’ was dramatic when describing the way two employees of the American embassy had apprehended you. They didn't seem much older than you were, but they sure as hell thought they ran the damn place. When you thought about elitist diplomats thinking they were doing god's work you could be sure you imagined Agent Daniel Van Ness and Agent Chris Feistl’s faces before you’d even met them. 

“Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Van Ness pretty much tossed you into his suspicious, unmarked vehicle, and as if you weren’t sore from your excruciatingly long flight you were sure you were going to need some ice packs when you got to your service apartment. “Okay, let's not make a scene, as I said we were told to get you as soon as you got off that plane” Feistl started the engine with one hand, and put the other one up in mock surrender. 

“Didn’t know kidnapping was part of the Ambassador's agenda in Bogotá” .

The car ride to the embassy was mostly quiet, and you took the time to enjoy the beautiful Colombian city as it came into view, clear your head and mentally plan for your stay. That was, save for the two men’s grumbling about a certain Javier Peña. “Yeah, we miss this meeting and Peña’s gonna be on our ass for the next week” You’d quickly learnt he was a little bit of a hero in the DEA world, whatever that meant– took down Escobar and all. And if you couldn’t loathe him more already he was now promoted to attaché. From what Van Ness and Feistl told you  he sounded like a character– hard ass, stubborn, insolent, the list went on and on. This Javier must really be something

How bad could he really be? Probably some grumpy old guy you’d run into once in a while at the water station or fax machine. He’d pay no mind to you; some irrelevant college student. Besides, you’d win him over with your signature smile. Who knew maybe you’d even become friends? “Well Im looking forward to meeting this Javier Peña” 

 “No one has ever said that. I don't think his mother said that when he was poppin’ out.” 

And boy were they right, Javier Peña really was something. The elevator doors opened to what would soon become a familiar sight– Javier trailing the ambassador as she tried to escape him and the DEA offices. “With all due respect, if I wanted to be a babysitter I would've taken up a job with the RIPs”  She turned to face him, her back to you. “Agent Peña, I'm going to repeat myself one more time, and I really shouldn't have to, but please stop referring to them as the “RIP’’s ”. Talk about professionalism, you definitely weren’t expecting whatever the hell this was when you thought of diplomatic work. 

Noonan almost unceremoniously bumped into you as she skirted away from Javier, raising her hands in absolute elation now that he had to take care of you, and couldn’t bother her any longer. “There you are, perfect! Agent Peña show her around, and please, be nice.” She all but pushed you into him, and you heard Javier helplessly and pathetically yell after her as she walked to the elevator. “I still need that clearance ambassador–” 

Despite the fact that he was looking at you like he wanted to tear you apart you didn't let that distract from the absolute marvel Javier Peña was. If you didn’t know any better you’d be on your knees for the man, and you couldn’t trust that you did. With the way his hair sat messily ruffled atop his head in soft curls, falling dangerously close to his eyes, or the way his now crinkled button up from the tiring workday hugged his forearms, who could blame you? Who knew, maybe you even liked the way he looked at you? 

You shot him your signature smile, and extended your hand to introduce yourself. Forget about Noonan, she’d probably retire soon anyway, it was his approval you really wanted now. With brows raised he took his time assessing you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes raked over your body, or the way he chewed on his lip as he did so. Feeling a little, or maybe very, hot under his gaze you shifted uncomfortably, still holding your hand out politely, but all you got from him besides his shameless gawking was a condescending chuckle, and he was turning away and walking back inside. 

So he really was an asshole. 

You stood in shock for a moment. Was this some sort of odd hazing process at the embassy? What the hell was going on? His voice zapped you out of the absolute embarrassment of an interaction you just had. “You gonna stand there all day?” God he was such a prick. You’d barely been there two minutes and you were already on Van Ness and Feist's team. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like if he was your boss. Or could you? 

Your gaze hardened at the realization. If there was one thing you were not going to do it was lust hopelessly after a man who didn't even want to give you the time of day, someone who thought he was so much better than you were. You were not going to inflate his already massive ego by crooning for his praise, no! You were not going to let him wield that kind of power over you. 

You watched as he walked through the office, the man sucked the air outta the room with the way he quite literally strutted across it. Practically dragging yourself behind him you tried your best to compose yourself, you were not going to let Peña and his asshole ways ruin your stay– he was going to like you, going to give you the time of day– and if hard work and a good attitude didn’t do it, your batting lashes certainly would.  

—

Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples

You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh, yeah

In the subsequent days you surprisingly had made yourself quite at home in the embassy– after all you did spend almost all of your day there. Van Ness and Fiestl soon became great friends, and would often drop by your workstation during breaks, or to invite you out for drinks after work. Things were going rather well, there was nothing much to complain about. The people who worked at the embassy were really friendly, and many of them took a liking to you. If charming your way into everyone's good graces was still your plan it sure as hell was working. 

You’d even met a certain blonde haired, blue eyed office heartthrob. While they were both certainly easy on the eyes, Agent Murphy was otherwise little like his partner, he was friendly, helpful, and generally in a good mood. Hell he even wished you ‘good morning’ when he got into work everyday. In due time you could even say Steve Murphy had become somewhat of a friend, he was quite fond of you– then again everyone in the office really was. 

That is almost everyone. 

Progress in the Javier department of your life had barely made moves. He was such a dick. On your second day you remember knocking on his door and politely asking if he could sign some papers that would get you some cultural records in Bogotá. You didn’t know what response you’d been expecting, but he'd essentially told you to leave him the hell alone.  

You wondered if being such a bitter jerk was exhausting. “Now girlie, runalong..” And with that he shut his door. You didn't want to let it affect you, but it did. You crooned for his attention, but he was so cold and detached, and nothing seemed to get through to him. The smiles, the ‘good mornings’, the way you’d offered to drop his files at the Ambassador's on your way there, it did nothing. He only smiled at you condescendingly, and at one point even joked about how he wasn’t sure you were capable of making it to the other side of the building. 

“Don't worry your head about these files, wouldn’t want you wandering around, lost, tryna find Noonan’s office.” 

Not to mention how he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your “silly little paper”, how your work was “cute” or “funny”. God, you couldn’t stand it. The way he leaned over your desk, jumbled up your resources while he carelessly looked through them. With his messy, loose tie, and his sideways smile, and warm, comforting brown eyes, and that mocking teasing tone…... 

—- 

My old man is a tough man, but

He got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam

And he shows me, he knows me

Every inch of my tar-black soul

“If he can’t drink it, or fuck it, he’s not interested.” When Feistl had told you that on your first day you scoffed, but it proved to be valuable, and unbelievably, true information in no time. Unintentionally Javier had condemned himself to an eternal state of perdition, you were not giving up, and this time you were going to drive him crazy. 

He surely wasn’t prepared for the little menace you became in the following weeks. You only felt pride when you’d catch him looking at you– embarrassing how he couldn't keep his eyes off. You and your cute little dresses, skirts, those you didn’t initially plan to wear to the office. His glare almost burnt a hole in your back everyday at midday, hotter than the afternoon sun peaking through the blind covered windows as you sat on Van Ness’ desk, laughing at something Feistl said. If there was one thing worse than an HR violation, it was an HR violation with a girl nearly half his age.

You’d found a fancy for discovering his ticks, new ways you could push his buttons. When you weren’t calling him sir as you addressed him, or taunting him with your dopey eyes and girlish smiles you were making his life a lot less convenient. 

“Where the hell is Peña” at least twice a week Stechner would all but slither into the office, talking about congress people, funding and how the DEA was raining all over his parade. As much as you hated the man, he was your trusted ally in trying times, especially when you decided breaking the office’s unspoken rule was going to be your new favorite pastime. That rule was of course, never telling anyone, especially his colleagues, where the hell Javier Peña was at any given time. 

So when Bill walked up to you and leaned beside your desk you faithfully pointed to the filing room you knew Javier was quite literally hiding in. When he walked, more like stormed out with Bill you were sure he could break you in half, the way he was looking at you, but you had given up lying to yourself, you loved it. Every morning he’d come into the office and have to find other places to escape to– from Noonan and Murphy and all other accountability. But for a cop he was pretty shit at it, and you always found a way to tell where it was he'd gone to. It also helped that nearly everyone enjoyed it when Javier had to deal with the bureaucracy, it was free reality tv, and you could be sure if you didn’t know who or what he was trying to avoid, someone else in the office surely would.

You had simultaneously become a great asset to Steve Murphy, who was, more than you expected, willing and enthusiastic about getting shit done, shit that Javier’s stubbornness would only prolong, especially because he knew the mix of Peña and the CIA was anything but productive. Whether it was distracting him while he got support for their missions, or rushing to answer the phones and covering for him and making Javi deal with Noonan you were always game. Murphy was always appreciative. 

“Steve’s out right now, but Javier’s in his office if you’d like to speak with him…” Steve pretty much cackled behind his desk as you handed the phone’s receiver to Peña, and watched as he exhaled heavily through his nose, using every bit of restraint he could possibly muster not to kick the two of you out of the building. He settled for flipping Murphy off instead. 

As someone who wasn’t an embassy employee you pretty much had free reign over the place, and you knew it only made Javier more upset knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. You were thoroughly enjoying your time in Bogotá, you knew Javier was thinking about you, you knew how much you got on his nerves, you loved the way he’d glare at you, boss you around, get annoyed at your little antics. You craved his attention and you were finally getting it. 

Though every once in a while you’d feel a little pang in your chest, at the way he’d roll his eyes at you, be his regular mean self. But you shoved that feeling aside, you did not want his approval. That would be pathetic. You just wanted a little payback.

—

He doesn't mind I have a flat broke-down life

In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me

Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone

Javier had been avoiding you like the plague for a good two days. That was after he overheard a conversation you were having with your supervisor he wasn’t really meant to be a party to. You remember twirling the cord wire between your fingers as you updated her over the phone. “Yeah, I need to get to the congress library, they have all the copies there.” You pushed the speaker button, letting go of the receiver to sift through the piles of printed paper on your desk. “Do you have access, did the embassy get you an ID? I spoke to Noonan but she’s busy babysitting her employees.” You bit back a smile. Javier and Murphy sure were a handful. 

“No, of course they didn’t. They don’t give a rat's ass” Frankly, you were exhausted from having to get or find somebody to do anything around there. Noonan was practically no help until the dean was breathing down her neck, for people who had been working in Bogotà for years very few in the embassy knew the directions to anyplace that wasn’t a bar, and everyone was far too busy kissing each other’s ass to get things done. “The DEA can go, can't they? Get one of em to take you” Before you could respond you heard the rattling of the water cooler behind you, and you caught Javier’s half shocked half annoyed expression in the reflection of the window as he scrambled for a paper napkin to wipe the water off his dress shirt.  

“Hmm, I didn’t think of that…..that's a great idea” 

That was on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent turning in the opposite direction anytime you approached him, sneaking past you on his way in and out, and begging Murphy to take that trip to the Congress library instead. On Thursday you were sure you won the lottery. 

Both Murphy and Carillo in the same room, and better yet in the office before Javier had made his grand entrance. They stood over what looked to you like a large map, arguing about something with far too much energy at eight in the morning. You saw this as your little opening. Where the hell was Peña? 

Turns out he was with the Ambassador.  

—-

Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Château Marmont

Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup

Glass room, perfume, cognac, lilac fumes

Says it feels like heaven to him

“And you’re going too?” Ambassador Noonan sat back in her chair, twirling her pencil between her fingers, looking expectantly at the irate face in front of her. You thought you’d spare Agent Peña his white lies, answering promptly in that sweet voice of yours.  “Yes, Agent Murphy told me, and besides, if he's around I can access all the archives..” You shrugged your shoulders and shot her your most persuasive smile. “Government ID an’ all” . You almost felt bad for Peña, the way his friends were so quick to rat him out. But then again he’d stirred up enough petty fights over the years so that nearly everybody was quick to get their petty revenge. That jerk was planning to take his little trip to the library– with Carillio of all people, and he was going to leave you behind? Not anymore.

“Well, I don't see the problem, just take her to the goddamn library. Jesus Peña why is everything so difficult with you.” Javier shot you a glare you could only describe as deadly, but you could only giggle at his exasperation. He rose from his chair, leaning on her desk, like he was trying to seduce her into getting out of this situation. You wondered how Noonan showed so much restraint, if you were her you’d be giving into anything he said no questions asked. 

“Ambassador, really, all that is below my paygrade, don't ya think?” Your mouth fell agape, and you turned to him to find he was smiling, looking directly at you. Asshole  “This whole conversation is below my paygrade. You’re bothering me Peña, get to work..” and with that the two of you were practically kicked out of her office and thrown into the hall,  where in the deafening silence you heard the large wooden doors slam behind you. 

You were lucky there was no one else around, especially when he practically slammed you against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Tryna fuck my whole day over baby?” You had to physically fight yourself to not give into the death grip he had on your shoulders, to hold yourself up as he caged you against the corridor.  “I just really need these papers, and only you can get ‘em for me ” You bat your lashes at him, and he pressed his forehead against the wall beside you in complete frustration, sighing. He knew that wasn’t true, and he knew you did as well. Any intern could have gotten them for you, but who was an intern in comparison to him? 

“I won't bother you again, promise” you bit your lip and held your pinkie finger up in what Javier saw as practically an act of war. His hands moved from your shoulders to grab you by the waist as you looked up at him. Despite your smiley exterior you were all giddy on the inside, especially when he leant beside your ear and warned in his low whisper, thumbs drawing circles on your flesh. 

“You're playin’ with fire baby..” 

— 

I'm off to the races, laces

Leather on my waist is tight, and I am fallin' down

I can see your face, is shameless, Cipriani's Basement

Love you, but I'm goin' down

As much as you wanted to bother Javier during his little snoop session with Carillo, you still had a job to do, so you shoved your brattiness aside for a few hours and got to work finding the documents you needed from the archives. You were honestly expecting a medal for your self restraint, because once you were done you waited patiently till he strutted outside after his meeting, barely holding up the heavy box with all your findings. You’d been standing there for almost two hours, and the jerk hadn’t even given you a heads up so you could sit inside.

“Finally.” He rolled his eyes, and like he was running some sort of marathon didn’t bother even helping you, speed walking across the parking lot as you stumbled and struggled behind him– attempting to keep up. 

“We gotta get back, now.” 

You buckled your seatbelt as he pulled out of the driveway, and relaxed against your seat as you caught your breath. “Where’re we going?” He turned to you and smiled, but it was in that signature condescending way that he always did. Meanie You thought to yourself. “We are not going anywhere. You are going back to the office, and I am going to take care of something you don't need to worry about.” You didn't know whether there was any use still being offended by his patronizing attitude, he could’ve just said you were going back to the office, but that was too normal, too dignified of a response for the great, cartel busting Javier Peña 

“I could come.” He laughed at your pout, as he turned to look at you, rounding the corner. “Baby, don’t ya’ think that's a little ambitious comin’ from someone who got winded carrying a box across a parking lot.” You scoffed, yes, it would've been nice to have some help. “Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to do with whatever it is you're going to do, anyway” Wanting to turn away from him you looked out the window, but that only lasted so long. 

“If this lead comes through, everyone in Bogotà’s gonna want everything to do with it.” You watched as the setting sun drenched your surroundings in a golden glow, and you couldn’t look away from the way Javier’s brown eyes too turned into pools of gold as the sun caught them. His voice a low hum just a little louder than the radio he habitually played as he drove around. It took a special type of maniac to go on missions off the clock. 

“Who’s it for, the lead?” He hummed, and smiled to himself as he spoke, that look on his face you couldn’t quite place– like he was just waiting for his opponent to slip up.  “One of the big guys. You should meet him when we bring him in– you’d get along–  he's a pain in my ass” 

You turned your gaze from the opening embassy gates to meet his eyes, your own narrowed into slits as you stared him down– he was smiling, and you hated it. “Mean.” He shook his head at your irritation, and wordlessly pulled up into the driveway. “Now, you're gonna take those files, and you're gonna sit your bratty ass down, and you're gonna work on that silly paper of yours” You were halfway out the door, lifting the giant cardboard box off the floor of the car with embarrassing difficulty.

Great, there was another thing he could berate you for. 

“That's a lot of instructions..” Your voice was muffled behind your paperwork, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it when he tried to boss you around. 

“Well here's another– don't touch anything while I'm gone.” He laughed to himself as he caught your rolling eyes peering at him over the top of the box, that being the only part of you that was really visible to him. Waiting for you to make it to the entrance he watched as one of his colleagues, one of the many heading out for the day, took it from you, and helped you inside. 

The low hum of the radio replaced the sound of your voice, an old spanish tune coming over the static as he drove out and away from the embassy. 

—

God, I'm so crazy, baby

I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raisin' hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it

“Didn't I specifically tell you not to touch anything” You lifted your head in the direction of that familiar voice, irritated as usual, but also a little more gruff, a little more tired. For a moment you regretted annexing his office while he was away. You watched as he sauntered in and towards his desk, opposite the little workstation you’d set up on a spare table where he’d dumped his tie and blazer for when the Ambassador popped around. He propped his hands on his desk, leaning against it to meet your gaze. 

God did he look good, the day had taken its toll on him, but it was only doing him favors. That soft brown hair had been ruffled out of place, and that crisp button up sat wrinkled on his back, loosely and messily tucked into his navy dress pants, sleeves haphazardly rolled up his forearms. While he looked like he worked a regular nine to five, from the little you knew about his job, an intentionally minimal amount, you were sure the unkemptness was the result of some high stakes chase, raid or whatever it was he’d set his head to doing that day.  

“‘M not touching, I just needed the AC” He rolled his eyes, but his neatly hung blazer and rolled up tie caught his attention from across the room. “See.. Untouched” You shot him that smile that you knew drove him up the wall, and he shook his head, now concerned more with sorting the paperwork splayed out in front of him. “Must be real hard, highlightin’ all that paper” He pointed to your reference material. As bad as the day was, it wasn't bad enough to persuade him to stop being a jerk.  

The place was a mess, and he couldn’t leave it this way till the morning, that would be a hit to his professionalism far worse than any of the shady shit he’d done over the years. He didn’t have time for your childish antics. At least for the moment. It’d been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to get it over with. Boy did he look like he needed to let off some steam, and while at first glance your actions were doing anything but helping him relax, couldn’t he see you were just begging for him to use you for exactly that? 

Maybe it was because he was tired of your shit, or because he was far too preoccupied with his work at the time, or because the office was dark and quiet and cold, but the next few minutes passed in uncharacteristic silence. You gazed up once in a while to see Javier’s scrunched brows sort through an abundance of filing. He’d sigh heavily every once in a while, and you could only wonder what or who, besides you, got on his nerves that much. You were almost eager to eliminate the competition. The world drowned out in the white noise of shuffling documents and clicking pens and you were once again lost in your paper. 

Every part of you really wished he wasn’t such an asshole. What had you ever done to him anyway, for him to be so cold and mean? You couldn’t pretend you had nothing to do with it, you'd egged him on beyond measure, but you’d only ever wanted him to like you. Okay maybe you thoroughly enjoyed his irritation, but you only really ever wanted his attention. Pathetic.. You thought to yourself. You pretended he wasn’t bothered by you taking over his office for a moment.

“Done yet?” You hadn’t even realized how or when Javier had crossed the room and made his way in front of you. His fingers danced on the edge of your laptop screen. You didn’t feel like answering just yet, so you typed away at your keyboard for a while longer. The silence wasn’t appreciated, and you could feel the exhaustion radiate off him like heat. You caught him fiddling with the pens on your desk, and skimming over some of your printed material from the corner of your eye, and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter when he chucked it back on your desk in what you assumed was complete disinterest. He was going to try harder to get your attention. 

You weren't prepared however when he practically slammed your laptop shut, forcing you to stop ignoring him. Talk about disrupting the workplace. Groaning, you rested your chin in your palms and peered up at him through dopey eyes. A man who had been driven to the edge, that's the gaze you met. It was not going to affect you, that muted rage, that wrought iron glare. You promised yourself. But your desires were already betraying you.. you rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache. 

“There a problem?” With a tone that set his last teeth on edge you kept up the facade, against your better judgment. It was just too much fun not to. When you looked up at him through your lashes you could almost see the slight tick in his jaw, and your mind wandered to what other ways you’d like this type of view. “Yes, in fact there is. It's 1am” He leaned forward, dangerously close, to the point you could feel the warmth of his breath fan against your lips, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You caught the faint smell of cigarettes off his disheveled clothes, the scent of whiskey on his lips. You felt your breath hitch, but you hoped he didn't notice. How naive, that was. 

“And” Your eyes darted to his mouth momentarily as you spoke, voice wavering. He raised his brows, almost to tell you not to push him any further than you already did. It was too late, however. Whatever this was had spiraled far out of your control, and he could see the way you squirmed under that commanding gaze of his. Your brain was screaming at the attention, and you had to inwardly yell at yourself to stop being so needy. 

“And?” Your brows furrowed, your lips forming that signature pout when you heard him mock your tone, your voice.  “I've had a long day, baby, and I wanna go home” You huffed girlishly at his ridicule, the way he liked to humiliate you by throwing your attitude back in your face with his snide imitations, his raised brow and faux sympathy. He talked like one does to a misbehaving child. In that patronizing, explanatory melody. You watched him chuckle with slitted eyes, though you were slowly turning to a puddle underneath it all.

“Go home then Mr. Peña. I'm not stopping you am I?” You watched his eyes darken, and you weren't even sure that was possible, but you didn’t have much time to think because before you knew it he was pinching your cheeks between his fingers, his other hand still holding him up on the table. You could only whine under his rough touch as its effects licked between your thighs. He laughed when you mewed at the sting. 

“Oh but you are. You're just beggin’ me to stay, aren't ya’ baby?” Your soft and pathetically unconvincing ‘no’ was muffled as he squeezed your cheeks in his large hands, yanking you in his direction as you fruitlessly attempted to free yourself from his grip. Unable to help yourself you were almost crooning into his touch, your body basically begging him to rough you up. “Such a fuckin’ brat. Runnin’ your mouth all day, showin’ up in those clothes, fuckin up my schedule, acting like a whore” His soft whisper made you shiver, your skin now on fire. He spoke slowly, and every syllable made you want to drop at his feet with a vigor you could only be embarrassed of. He made you feel small, made you feel helpless under his touch. 

You wanted to push back, wanted to defy his accusations.“‘m not a whore” He smiled at your whining, and if you were delusional, and you were, even hopeful,  you’d say he did so endearingly. But Javier Peña didn’t care about endearments, and after the way you’d acted you’d be crazy to think he thought there was anything endearing about you. “Right baby. You're not. Gotta pay girls to act this way ‘round me. But look at you. Didn’t spare you a fuckin dime.” 

He had let go of your face, and had in a moment, quickly and uncaringly dumped you on the table in front of him. You let out a soft “ow” when you felt your knees bump the wood before your legs were dangling off its edge. You were far closer to him now, and if you had felt small before you thought you were only shrinking in comparison to his domineering frame– physical, mental, everything. Your brain was mush, your body was mush, and you could only lean into his touch– benevolent or not. 

In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture he patted your cheeks with the palm of his hand, lightly, as if to soothe the sore flesh, but it only made the way he pulled them mockingly far more jarring. “Know what that makes you babygirl?” He paused for a moment, knowing you couldn't answer, looking down at the way your eyes were now welling with tears at the pain, and reveling in the sight. 

“Makes you a little slut” 

You wanted to respond, wanted to defend yourself, but you could only settle for grabbing his dress shirt in the balls of your first. The fabric of your panties had pretty much soaked through, and you felt it cling to you uncomfortably as you shifted on the table to pull him closer. Practically begging for his touch. 

He let go of your face, but he didn’t plan on being any more gentle. He knew there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say at that moment, and he took full advantage of your silence– telling you everything he’d wanted to scream in your face for the past month. It was even better now however, because as a fun bonus, for his superhuman self control, you were even pleading for him to do so. He could see it in your eyes, feel it on your hot skin, the way you subtly rolled your hips against the table to ease the pang between your thighs. He reduced you to a dumb, empty headed bimbo, with his words alone. He couldn't help but rub it in a little. “Aw baby, no words for me? Where’s that snappy mouth now?” That faux sympathy was back again

His hands rubbed up and down your sides, moving to toy with the buttons of your top as he spoke. Fiddling with them he popped the first few open, enough to expose the swell of your breasts to the cool of the air conditioned office. With lust blown eyes he trailed his thumbs along your collar bones and then down to your admittedly skimpy lingerie– you gasped when he yanked it down, practically tearing if in a swift motion. He admired you for a moment, held you in place when you squirmed against him, wrapped your legs around his waist. 

You shifted on the desk, leaning your face against his torso, looking up at him,  pleading with your eyes. “Like you better like this, clothes half off like a desperate slut that couldn’t even wait to get undressed.” He paused, still admiring, tracing your cheekbones with his thumbs. “Oh, and fucking quiet”  he flipped you on your stomach, your legs dangling of the table when you writhed under his punishing grip– pushing your face down against the wood, bending you over it. “Whaddya think baby?” 

As if he had enough of just looking you felt him flip your skirt up with his vacant hand, and yelped when his palm came down harshly on the flesh of your ass, the sting only egging on your tears of desperation. “You know what I think baby? Think I needa fuck some manners into you.” He smoothed his hands up and down your warm thighs, fingers finding the soaked fabric of your panties as you moaned and sighed above him. He knew what he did to you and he loved it. “Can pretend there's anything in that head of yours besides the thought of goin’ dumb for me”

You lifted your head to look up and behind you, you’d give anything to witness the sight you’d touched yourself to for the past month, but Javier was quick to slam you head back back to where it came from, and send your eyes rolling back into your head as he shoved your soaked panties aside and roughly pushed two fingers into your sopping cunt. "Fuck, look at this tight little pussy, can barley take my fingers." He groaned in your ear, leaning up against you as his digits fucked you at an agonisingly slow pace, just barely soothing the burn of desire building in your core. “Bad girls don’t get a view.” Light headed, you could only squeal, could only hide your face from him as he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your knitted brows and that pout. 

"Y'know how messy y'are baby? Feel how this pussys cryin' for me, drippin' all over my hand?"

You kicked your legs in protest, salty tears streaming down your face and pooling at its side on the wood beneath you. He wasn’t happy when he found you pushing back against his fingers, grinding helplessly on them. For a moment you thought your wish was granted, but he was only yanking you off the desk so you could have your back flush against him, and he could get his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Still languidly pumping his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy he turned your face to meet his, and sneered as his palm collided with the side of your cheek. 

Smack 

“Watch it” You wanted to be a brat, wanted to defy him, but it was all too much to handle at once. You felt fuzzy all over, and who were you kidding you were always going dumb for him. Besides, how could you even keep your mind steady, not when you felt his hard length against you. You gazed right up at him, pushed back against him, eyes rolling back into your head as you did. He only laughed. “Oh baby, think it's gonna be that easy? Think ‘m gonna let you cum jus’ like that? After you've run me up the wall?” He squeezed your breast in his palm, bending you back over the table, now more gently, extending the olive branch, giving you a chance to repent. “‘M not a needy slut like you baby, those little tricks ain't’ gonna work” Javier was an asshole, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting to ruin you. But first he wanted to have a little fun. 

“Please, please, promise I'll be good.” He hummed, pretending like he was debating whether he was going to give into your pleas yet. He wasn't. He wanted to soak in the sight– you splayed out on his desk, begging him to fuck you sensless, his hands roaming your body torturously teasing you as your pussy clenched around nothing, dripping for him. 

“So now ya wanna be good? Well baby I'm not buyin it yet. Gonna take a lot more convincing than that.” His fingers found your clothed cunt once again, drawing soft circles on your clit. You wailed, knuckles going white when you gripped the table edge in front of you. "Feels good doesnt' it babygirl, I know, feels so good when you finally fucking listen." You pushed back against his fingers, practically humping his hand. The tears were back, and he loved them. “Aw, poor baby, too much?” He wasn’t asking, and you knew he didn’t care what you had to say anyway. He wanted one response, and you were far too wound up not to give it to him. 

“Please please please. Won't be a brat, wanna be your good girl.” He kept you waiting and distraught, fingers still rubbing you through your panties as he spoke, knowing very well you could barely concentrate when he touched you, the squelching of your wetness only drove you towards the edge. “Now babygirl, you're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen good, and do exactly what I say. Ya hear?” You nodded your head vigorously, but a smack to your ass reminded you to use your words. “Yes. promise” He laughed. “Such an easy little slut.” You heard the jingle of his belt behind you. 

You shivered when you felt his cock drag against your drenched cunt, tip bumping your clit with every pass as he wet himself with your slick. Your hips moved frantically, unable to get enough of the friction, but he held you back just enough, to where you would remain unsatisfied and frustrated.“Say" I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry for being a tease.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and the command alone was enough to send you over the edge. 

“‘m sorry for being a tease daddy ” 

“Say “I'm Sorry for being an easy whore”” 

“M’ sorry for being an easy whore” You’d never been more shy in your life, forget around Javier, who could never guess you had it in you. “That’s my good little slut.” But the way he was speaking to you, teasing, mocking, telling you what to do, what to say– you were hot all over with humiliation. You hid your face, pretty much smashing your forehead against the table, making sure no matter how far he lent he couldn't see the way you were coming undone under him. 

He could probably sense it, though, especially by the way you reacted to his little praise. “That's it babygirl. Comin around now are we?” You didn't want him to have that on you, but you were lucky, in a way, because he didn’t care much to tease you anymore. He grabbed your hips harshly and with a rough thrust of his hips he was fucking you into the mahogany desk, your ribs bruising as he held you down against it. He wasn’t wasting any time, wasn’t stopping or going slow to let you adjust, he was reminding you of how tightly you’d wound him up.“So fuckin tight” his voice was a strained whisper behind you, and you made a noise you could barely recognise as your own at his words. “Hurts” you were whining again,this time at the sting,  and you knew he didn’t care but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah baby hurts when daddy stuffs you full of his cock? My poor thing.. But you like it don't you babygirl? Like it when I stretch you open” he wasn’t wrong. The feeling of him splitting you open had turned you into a puddle, a moaning mess. “”S too big” his hands smoothed up and down your back erratically.  “I know baby, I know, but you’re gonna take it aren’t you? Gonna take it how I give it to you dirty little girl?” You were, you took it how he gave it to you. “Gonna ruin this pretty lil pussy” He squeezed the flesh of your hips till you squeaked, the pain only adding to the pleasure as his hips smacked against yours. 

You felt your legs shake as his cock pounded your aching pussy. “Jus’ needed daddy to fuck all that brattiness outta ya huh?” You nodded your head and he cooed at the way you melted into his touch. “Oh baby, that’s it, just like that.” Gazing up with hooded eyes you caught his reflection in the glass of his office window, half illuminated by the dim lighting– his own face scrunched up with pleasure. The sight only had you fucking back against him. You felt like jello, your heart pitter pattering at his little praise. 

“My good little slut” 

Wrapping his arm around you he grabbed your face roughly again, dragging you up and against his chest again. 

“My slut, hear me?” 

Yours, yours, yours 

Your brain was a fog, and the only thing you could focus on was the way his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you clench around him as that burn built in your core– a string of incoherent “daddy’s” being the only thing you could manage to get out your mouth.  “My dumb fuckin baby, my whore, squeezin’ my cock”. You repeated like a broken record; “daddy’s, daddy’s daddy’s”, the feeling of your slick running down your thighs making you go dizzy. 

“Look at you, daddy’s little cumdump” your cheeks were burning, your eyes barley staying open. He pulled your face up from the desk. “Can barely look straight huh baby? Gettin all cock drunk on me.” You made out his dark eyes in the reflection. But you couldn’t bear to meet them. It didn’t matter. He was always looking at you.

“Only for you daddy”

Your release was building, like an inextinguishable fire, your pussy throbbing with need, just begging for it, and he knew it too, the way your walls quivered around him, the way you were moaning and panting, whispering soft calls of “daddy” when he held you against him. “Gonna cum babygirl? Gonna cum on my cock, bent over my desk? When ’m usin’ ya like a fuckin toy?” 

Your body went lax in his arms as you came, your lips parting in a wordless cry, eyes fluttering shut. “That's it… cum for me”. You cherished that almost gentle encouragement as you came undone, tummy swarming with butterflies as you shook in his arms. He was still fucking into your sensitive pussy, pushing you further into the desk as he neared his release. You heard a strained curse behind you, before he was fucking you full of his cum in deep, hard thrusts, your legs dangled off the table as you milked his cock. Shivering at the feeling you closed your eyes, his spend leaked out of your sore pussy when he pulled out, dripping down your inner thighs obscenely. You heard his belt jingle again as he caught his breath behind you, and you felt silly for the way you missed his warmth when it was replaced by the chilled office air. He quickly shifted your panties back in place, making sure you stayed stuffed full of his cum. You winced when he smacked your pussy lightly. Raising your head you caught his reflection again, but you hid your face back against the desk almost immediately when you saw the way he admired his work in the reflection, like he could see the way he’d fucked the brattiness out of you. 

With closed eyes you hummed as he turned you over and sat you on the desk. Now that you’d finally got Javier’s attention you were satisfied– all sleepy and fucked out. You wished he’d hold you, but you had to remind yourself fucking you hadn’t taken the asshole out of him. He was still Javier. Hardass DEA attaché Javier. You sat there for a while, and when you opened your eyes you saw him picking up his blazer and briefcase. 

“If you're not up in 10 seconds I'm leavin’ ya here.” He was back to usual in a moment, and in your fuzzy little head you heard a well meaningness in that tone. “In those messy panties.” You pouted at his words, once again, and he watched as you hopped off the table, rubbing your eyes as you gathered your things, albeit clumsily–your knees wobbly to the point where you could see Javier’s smirk behind you as you shoved your laptop into your bag. 

Turning off the table lamp he motioned with his head for you to get moving along, and you rolled your eyes at him as you walked out the door, stumbling slightly as you did. He gave you what you now recognised as that look, brows raised, and you didn’t have the energy at the moment to be combative. 

Maybe you didn’t want to be. 

“Come on now, runalong”

—

My old man is a thief, and

I'm gonna stay and pray with him 'til the end

But I trust in the decision of the Lord, to watch over us

Take him when He may, if He may

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

And we're off to the races, places

Ready, set, the gate is down and now we're goin' in

To Las Vegas, chaos, Casino Oasis

Honey, it is time to spin

Boy, you're so crazy, baby

I love you forever, not maybe

You are my one true love

You are my one true love

You are my one true love

Let me know what you think please!! I’d love to hear your nasty thots. I really hope you lovelies liked it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work. You keep me writing! Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗💗🐝🐝

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