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#only you
hotboyssstuff · 2 months
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God… Henry Carvill It's so tasty... I just wanted one of these
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dumblr · 4 months
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What I have with you, I don't want with anyone else.
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themachronou · 4 months
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Only you, 1994
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wrongplacerighttime · 2 months
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agent!harry x agent!fmc
part one here ᵕ̈ // little bunny masterlist
the one where grace and harry don’t want to admit their feelings, then another undercover opportunity comes up, this time at a swinger party. harry gets jealous, grace hates him and swears she’ll never speak to him again (but does she really?) // little bunny part 2
ITS FINALLY DONE!!!!!! Im sorry it’s SO LATE ksckskckskc you can be mad it’s okay i understand im terrible.
wc: 6.1k
tw: mentions murder, swinger party (not harry and grace), jealous!harry, angsty vibes, unprotected sex, little bit of fluff at the end
Only You
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“No! Absolutely not!” Grace snapped at Harry, stomping her foot like a Kindergartener who didn’t get their way. Harry grins at her display of frustration while crossing his arms over his chest, the sleeves around his biceps tightening. She doesn’t ever want to go undercover again, not after the last time. “You could ask literally anybody else.” She gestured out of the conference room window to their coworkers Gina and Kelly standing around the desk of a police officer, one whose name Grace didn’t remember. They’re discussing details of the most recent case before they go out to the latest crime scene.
“Yeah…but they don’t always fit the profile.” Harry argued back, then his smile grew. “You, however…you always fit the profile, bunny.”
She straightens, her mouth opening to speak before she quickly snaps it closed when she can’t gather her thoughts fast enough to answer. A heat swirls below her belt, one that she can’t blame on the Dallas climate. The weather was brutal, and to top it off, the air conditioning in the station was out. Stand up fans and box fans littered around the station only blew hot air around, not giving them any reprieve. She feels a bead of sweat trickle down her temple, her eyes trail over Harry, flicking to the three buttons of his shirt that were undone and showing just enough of his chest and the light sheen of sweat. She licks her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth, her mind wandering. He looks like sex, standing there with his hands on his hips and his gun holstered on his belt. She imagines herself striding the short distance over to him and crashing her lips to his before dipping her head down and trailing her tongue over—
“Besides, I was just asking in case we did need to go undercover again, would you?” His voice pulls her from her daydream. She blinks the imagery from her mind, forcing herself back into the mindset she needs for this case.
“No. Final answer. Ask someone else.” She turns on her heel, walking out of the room before she can’t satiate the heat pooling between her thighs.
“Way to be a team player!” He yells from the doorway, causing heads to turn her direction. She doesn’t turn around, instead flipping her middle finger up towards him as she creates more distance between them. She rounds the corner, eyes falling to the floor as she makes her way to the breakroom. She grabs a water from the fridge, leaning against the counter before downing half of it. She breathes a heavy sigh, making a mental note to tell Aaron that she needed some time off after this case.
Grace and Harry haven’t been together since the case in Seattle. The martini’s she had that night forced her into a brief lapse of judgment, as gin usually did. Her clouded mind made her desire for a man who didn’t want her grow into something unfathomable. That night, after they left the room, Jesse made his move on Grace like they expected he would. His partner, the woman whose name they later found out was Margot, had cornered Harry when Grace went to retrieve her coat. Once Harry was distracted, Jesse followed Grace out the door and down the sidewalk, what he didn’t expect was Aaron to be following him as well. She knew Aaron wouldn’t let Jesse get too far, but she was still scared when he grabbed her from behind and dragged her into a dark alley. He put a knife to her throat and whispered in her ear about how she was a disgrace, pathetic and powerless for cheating on her fictional husband. She almost grabbed her gun from her coat pocket, but she wasn’t expecting Harry to be the one pulling her away, holding her to his chest as Aaron grabbed Jesse and put him in cuffs. And even though Grace wanted to be the one to do it, she found in that moment, that she didn’t care. She was just glad they got there before he slit her throat.
She shakes the traumatic memory from her mind, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Maybe it was just the heat, or maybe it was the fact that this case was almost too similar. Except now their new suspect was targeting young married couples. They don’t have much to go on yet, but they knew they needed to act quickly. Grace turns information over in her head, thinking, trying her hardest to come up with some idea. The first couple found was assumed to be a murder-suicide, until the next couple showed up a week later with the same exact MO. They know he forced them to have sex before he kills them, but he makes them wear a condom. To them, it makes no sense. The couples are married, and why would he make them wear a condom if he was just going to kill them? He’s in control of the entire situation, making them comfortable before shooting them at point-blank range after the husband “finishes”.
She combs through the information over and over, forcing her mind to find any new angle that she can come up with but she fails. She rubs her sweaty palms over her jeans and walks back towards the main area of the station. Gathered around a whiteboard, Harry and Aaron are discussing possible motives with a few officers. Harry mentions their last case, the sex club and asks them if there's anything like that around this area. An idea sparks in Grace’s mind, and she makes her way to them.
“What if it’s a swinger community?” She blurts out and they turn to look at her, Harry raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing we have suggests that.” Harry mutters and her nostrils flare, because of course he would be arguing with her. That’s what he does best.
“Nothing suggests another sex club either, jackass.” She snaps at him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “How would he get them to even agree to go anywhere with him unless they were already open to the idea of having a third?” Harry’s eyes travel down to the V in her shirt, giving him a view of her chest that’s speckled red from heat before he rakes them over the curve of her hips. His eyes flick back to her face studying the baby hairs stuck to her temple with sweat while she talks. His jaw ticks once and he turns back to the whiteboard.
“I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume that, Styles.” Aaron interjects, and Harry rolls his eyes, capping the marker he was holding and walking away. When no one shares his theories, he gets angry because he can’t piggyback onto them for defense. “I’m going to call Agent Morgan and Agent Jones, tell them to find out whatever they can about the swinger community in this area.” Grace nods, walking towards the door in hopes she can find any reprieve from the stuffy heat inside the station. Once outside, she leans against the building, running a hand over her forehead damp with sweat and swears under her breath. She could already tell it was going to be a long week.
By Wednesday, they were fed up. With the case, with the heat, and with each other. It was the hottest day of the week by far. They were shedding any layers they could while still maintaining modesty, but thankfully, the officers were understanding when they walked in to see the women in tanktops and the men with their buttons undone down their chests. They had it worse, and Grace felt sorry for them, always having to have a full uniform and heavy gear strapped to their belts. Grace flicks her gaze up from a file she was reading as Lieutenant Nathan Davis strides through the door of their conference room carrying a file. He smiles at her and she mirrors it back to him, everyone noticing that he’s taken a quick liking to her. Something she’s never been good at identifying.
“Hey, I think I have something here.” He says, laying the file of the most recent murder on the table before pulling over the one from the first. “Both husbands, they’re what one could consider “alphamales”. They go to the gym and work out relentlessly, they have high-power careers. People who knew them said they had kind of overbearing personalities.” He points out highlighted areas and Grace nods. Harry narrows his eyes.
“But they have no specific traits that make them similar. The women however…” He trails off, turning to look at the board with their pictures pinned up, and it was uncanny, the similarities between the two women. Once they noticed, an uneasy ambience settled over the room.
After a few hours, most of the team had checked out and gone to the hotel. The lieutenant was still in the conference room, sat next to Grace and attempting to make small talk while they worked. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he worked on the geographical profile, facing away from them as to not give away his expression.
“So, how's life in D.C? Is it as busy as everyone says it is?” Nathan asks her and she nods, eyebrows pulling together before she relaxes the muscle.
“It’s always busy. But it’s not so bad. I like it there, lots of history in that city. I’m into that sort of thing.” She answers as she highlights part of the coroner's report.
“I’ve been thinking about making a trip there. Maybe when I do we could get together.” He suggests and she grins.
“Oh for sure! I could show you the best museums.” She says, and looks back down at the report in front of her, not picking up on his flirting. Harry rolls his eyes, turning around to grab another push pin. He peeks up from his lashes, catching the way Nathan keeps flicking his eyes down to Graces lips, and the way he scoots his chair closer to her but she scoots away and creates a distance between them. He almost laughs, but covers it up with a cough causing the both of them to glance in his direction. He didn’t look up at them, instead turning to the board and putting the red pin in its rightful place, hiding his smirk from them.
Grace and Harry stayed at the station until the night dissipated into morning, the orange sun rising in the sky as the rest of their team made their way into the conference room. They relayed information, dismissing themselves to the hotel to get a few hours of sleep. Grace tried all night to have conversations with Harry but received one word responses or a cold shoulder in general and she was at her wits end by the time they were walking down the block towards the hotel.
They walked in silence, and Grace felt like she was running to keep up with Harry’s long strides, and it wouldn’t take an expert to see that he was tense. His expression was hardened and his fists were shoved deep into his pockets, eyes never straying from the path ahead of them. She swallows, opening her mouth to speak and before she can even get a word out he interrupts her.
“Don’t.” He warned, and her mouth snapped shut, looking down at the ground with a sigh.
“Noted.” she muttered under her breath, acknowledging he wasn’t in the mood to speak to her. She doesn’t know if he’s upset at her or frustrated with the case, but she decides on the latter because she can’t think of any reason why he would be angry at her.
They go their separate ways once they reach their floor, Harry going straight and Grace turning right off the elevator. She fumbles with the keycard, pushing the door open as soon as the light turns green and locking it behind her. She trudges to the bathroom, peeling off her clothes and taking the coldest shower she can stand, washing the sticky feeling sweat had left behind on her skin. Refreshed, she dresses into a more comfortable outfit and slips on a pair of shoes, deciding she was going to walk down the hallway and see if Harry wanted to get something to eat before they inevitably passed out from exhaustion.
She knocks once, and the door swings open. He’s standing there, towel wrapped around his hips with water dripping off the ends of his hair. He huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles in his arms popping at the position. She swallows the nervous lump in her throat as he stares at her, his gaze making her almost uncomfortable.
“I-I just wanted to check on you. It just seems like something is bothering you and I just wanted to see if—”
“See if what? If you could fix it?” He interrupts her, and she shakes her head in shock at his tone. “What if you’re what's bothering me? Then what, Grace?” He tilts his head, studying her, and it's almost condescending, the way he’s speaking to her.
“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“You think just because we fucked one time I’m going to be nice to you?” He stares at her with a hardened expression and she’s confused. She doesn’t understand the change in his mood, and he’s never spoken to her this way before. He stands there, looking down at her fiddling with her fingers and he almost caves. Almost. He needs to push her away, he doesn’t want her to get comfortable with him. The only way to do that is if he’s callous towards her so she’ll run away from him, then he’ll have his sanity back. Because the truth is terrifying to him, and since the moment he crashed his lips to hers in that club, the only thing he can think about is the way she tasted. They way she squeezed around his cock just right. The way she whimpered into his mouth when he thumbed over her clit. He’s craving her. But, he can’t face the feelings he has for her. He doesn’t want to admit that he was jealous watching Nathan flirt with her at the station…and Grace couldn’t tell he was wearing the mask that he’s become so comfortable behind.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay…and if you wanted to get breakfast since we were at the station all night…” Her voice trails off and she feels small under his patronizing stare, her eyes flicking down to her feet and the floor.
“You should go ask Lieutenant Nathan if he wants to get breakfast with you. The man already has a hard on for you and if you ask him he’ll probably cum in his pants.” He sneers and she snaps her head back up to him, he’s leaning against the doorframe, and she doesn’t know where this is even coming from.
“That’s what this is about?” She becomes defensive now, and she scoffs. “Are you jealous?” She laughs, a laugh laced with sarcasm and he grips his bicep, the muscle dimpling under his skin at the force. “That’s rich coming from you Harry, really. Just because a man is being nice doesn’t mean he’s flirting. And you have no right to be jealous even if he was.” Her breath is heavy with rage in her lungs, and his eyes flare with something she can’t quite pinpoint. She feels her cheeks redden from the anger taking over her conscience.
“You know, I don’t want to tiptoe around your feelings, Grace.” His voice is low, and her hands ball in fists at her sides. “You’re just…pathetic and helpless…like a little bunny.” The words come out before he can stop them, the same words Jesse used against her in that dark alley less than three weeks ago, and she visibly flinches, the fire in her eyes dying out. His flare for a moment longer before it dissipates and the reality of what he actually said hits him. His expression softens, and he reaches for her. She steps back, moving away from him like his touch would burn her. Her gaze hardens again, the heat behind her cheeks simmers.
“Fuck you, Harry.” The words fall from her lips, burning like venom and she storms away from him. Her steps come faster, and then she’s sprinting down the hall far, far away from him. No amount of distance feels like enough. The combination of tears falling down her cheeks and the wind from running cools her burning skin. Rounding the corner, she fumbles with her keycard as she reaches the door, her vision blurring making it hard to see the slot, but once she jams it in she throws the door open and shuts it behind her, leaning against it and sliding to the floor. She sobs, thinking of any reason why his words would affect her like this. He’s always been an asshole, always saying things to get under her skin…but none of them have ever hurt in this way.
Behind his door, Harry is pacing, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the root. He didn’t mean to let his anger take over, speaking for him in a moment like that. It was a terrible form of self-sabotage, the way he always let his emotions get the best of him. He wanted to go to her, apologize (something he never did), but he had a feeling he just fucked up any chance he had with her.
Grace had moved to the bed at some point, hugging her knees to her chest before she drifted into sleep. In her dreams, all she saw was the anger behind Jesse’s eyes when he grabbed her, her eyes close as Jesse gets close to her face, his words spitting from behind his lips, and when she opens them, it’s not Jesse holding her against the wall. It’s Harry.
She jolts awake, sitting up in the bed, pressing her fingers into her eyes to force the image of him away. She checks the time on her phone, jumping from the bed and throwing on an outfit that better suits her line of work. She straps her holster on her belt, walking out the door. She makes her way down the street to the station, going inside to find her team gathered in the conference room, minus Harry. She sighs with relief and finds a chair, joining in with conversation as Aaron informs them about new information pertaining to their case.
“We have found out that this man has to be married, there’s no way for him to get into the swinger parties without a partner. We don’t suspect the wife has anything to do with his crimes, or if she even knows he’s committing them.” Aaron pulls a chair out, sliding into it and his eyes move to movement coming through the doorway. Out her peripheral, Grace see’s Harry pull up a chair to the table.
“We want you to go undercover again, Grace.” He clears his throat once, and her eyes meet his. “You’re his type…as uncanny as that sounds.” Just like last time.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” she mutters, picking at her fingernails. Her mind wanders away from the conversation. Her teeth sunk into the skin of her lip, the metallic taste of her own blood meeting her tongue. She tried to stay out of her own mind, but it was hard when the only thing she thought about was if she would be in danger again. She feels Harry’s voice fading in through her thoughts as she forces her attention back to the conversation.
“...and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me and Grace to go undercover together again.” His eyes flick over to her momentarily before he looks back at Aaron.
“Well, I guess it could be—”
“I could do it.” A voice behind them speaks and they all turn to see Lieutenant Nathan standing in the doorway, holding a folder in his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just overheard the conversation. I’m willing to go in there, with Grace.” He looks at Harry once before going back to Aaron, then to Grace. “I’d just need a little bit of a rundown on what to do.” He says to her and she nods.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She agreed. “I can give you the basics.” Her voice is low and he nods at her, and she stands, following him out the door.
Harry watches her go.
She’s nervous, she can’t deny it. Nathan holds her hand in his, fingers laced together as they stand in front of the mahogany door. He rings the doorbell, reminding himself of the backstory they decided on and straightens his posture. Grace fiddles with the earpiece tucked behind her hair, feeling like something is sticking out of place and poking her. She tries to ignore the feeling as she looks up at Nathan, waiting. The door opens and the hostess of the party smiles, making room for them to walk through the door. She introduces herself as Diana, and informs them of the rules for the night. She knows who they are and why they’re here, Aaron giving her a rundown when he called her into the station. She was sworn to secrecy, and more than willing to let them into her house to catch the man who was killing people she had considered friends.
She knew that Aaron and the rest of the team were set up down the road, sitting and waiting in their SUVs for the signal once the suspect was in their car with them and driving down the road to their secondary location. She felt a little bit of comfort knowing that they would arrest him before he even got the chance to hurt them, but she was still terrified after her situation with Jesse and she didn’t want to risk being put into another situation like that.
She felt Nathan's hand squeeze hers, silently reassuring her that he was here and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her…a stark contrast to the touch she received from Harry when they were in their similar situation. She was just thankful that she didn’t have to walk into this party wearing almost nothing. Her eyes flitted over the room of people, looking for anyone who fit their profile. He would be a little jittery, but nothing that would be noticeable to any unassuming person. He’s going to be someone people trust, someone who could easily lure them away. A familiar face in the crowd for the unsuspecting party goers.
Nathan rests his hand on the small of her back, pulling her to his side to show affection like a typical married couple would. He bends over, kissing her temple once and her cheeks heat from the gesture.
“You look really nice, by the way. I didn’t get to say that before we came in here.” He whispers in her ear and she looks up at him, giving him a small smile. She glances around the room once more, trying to put a face to their profile. She breathes in once, seeing a man chatting up a couple before his eyes glance around until they meet hers. A man with short, dark hair. About 5’7” in height. He takes a seat beside them on the couch, introducing himself as Steven Durst. He’s married to a woman named Billie, who’s also around the house somewhere he states. He doesn’t elaborate on much, only telling them he’s the manager of a hedge fund that deals with something outside of Grace’s realm of knowledge. She clocks his mannerisms, noticing the way his leg bounces up and down, and the way he chews on his lip. She notices his attention on her for the entirety of the conversation he’s having with Nathan.
She excuses herself to the bathroom, walking down the hall and slipping behind the safety of the door, locking it behind her.
“Aaron, I think we have our guy. Steven Durst.” She speaks quietly to him and her voice comes through the walkie he has in the cupholder between him and Harry. He relays the message to the police department, and they have a file on this guy in a matter of seconds. He looks over to Harry in the passenger seat, tense and looking out the window into the distance. His brows are furrowed together but he doesn’t say anything to him.
All Harry has heard for the past thirty minutes is Nathan complimenting and flirting with Grace and it’s making him resentful of a man he doesn’t even know. He’s staring at nothing, thinking about how he should be the one in there with her, he shouldn’t have backed down from the job when he was asked.
His thoughts race but he’s pulled from them when he hears the click of the gear shift as Aaron puts the car in drive. They follow the car that Grace is in with their suspect, and he swears he’ll kill this one if he even thinks of touching her. They drive for what feels like forever, keeping their distance a few cars back as they hear Steven Durst through the earpiece saying sinful things, things Harry could never think of and implicating himself. He feels his anger bubbling in his chest at the thought of this disgusting person saying these vile things to Grace. His Grace.
Whatever happens next is a blur to him. They pull into the parking spot beside Nathan’s car and Harry pulls Steven from the back seat before Steven can even get his gun from his waistband. He pulls it out for him, chucking it into the grass and putting the man in handcuffs. He pushes him over to Aaron, who takes hold of the chain between the locks and walks him to a police car. Grace walks away, going to the other car and not the one Harry came in and jumping in the backseat without so much as a glance in his direction. He drops his hands to his sides, defeated before getting back into the passenger seat and sitting in silence as they make their way back to their hotel.
Grace is brushing her teeth when she hears a loud banging on her door, and whoever it is sounds impatient as they persistently bang their fist against the metal. She looks at herself once in the mirror before going to look through the peephole. Standing on her tiptoes, she sees Harry standing there, unable to read his expression because his head is tilted towards the floor as he waits for her to open the door. She sighs heavily, debating on whether or not she should open it…but then he bangs his fist again and she’s had it.
“What the fuck do you want?” She sneers as she opens it and he doesn’t acknowledge her, just storms his way into her room right past her. She lets go of the door, allowing it to close as she follows him deeper into the room. She sees him standing with his back towards her. “Hello? You can’t just barge in here like—”
“You’re a real piece of work, Grace.” He laughs, but it's not one of humor. He turns to face her, and his pupils are blown. She knows that look. It’s the same look he gave her in that private room of the club. The one she saw when he was driving his cock into her deeper than anyone else has ever reached. And even though she’s still angry, she can’t help the heat that swirls in her chest and travels straight to her thighs.
“What now, Harry? Please enlighten me.” Her sarcasm has him shaking his head, running his tongue over his bottom row of teeth before he answers.
“Think I liked listening to that fucker flirt with you all night? Trying to win you over with a cheesiness that would make any sane person cringe.” He states and she narrows her eyes at him.
“Aaron asked you if you would—”
“No. You were pissed at me, and that would’ve given us away too quickly.” He interrupts and she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, then you have no reason to be mad when you declined the offer.” She crosses her arms, and his eyes trail over her body. Her shirt that was oversized and dropped just down to her thighs, thighs he wanted wrapped around his waist more than anything else. “For the record, I’m still pissed. Now leave.” She points to the door and he smirks.
“Do you really want me to though?” He slowly closes the distance between them, and she retreats away until her back meets the wall. He cages her head between his arms, head dipping to her line of vision. His lips are so close that she could pucker and they would touch. She keeps them in a thin line, not wanting to give away her guise. He nudges her nose with his. “He’s not me.”
“Maybe that’s what I like about him.” Her words come out breathless, her voice betraying her. Her lips brush his as she speaks and he hums.
“Y’know…ever since Seattle, can’t stop thinking of the little noises you make, the way you squeeze around me when you cum. The feeling of your fingers twisting in my hair…You ruined me for anyone else, bunny.” He mutters and she whimpers, her eyes fluttering closed. He pulls away. “But, call Nathan. Tell him to come fuck you.” He drops his arms, moving towards the door but she grabs his bicep before he can get too far.
“No. Want you.” She assures him and he surges forward, lips crashing into hers as he captures her face in his hands. And it’s blissful, the way his tongue dances with hers. She whimpers again into his mouth as he fists the hair at the nape of her neck. He trails his hands down her body, tapping her hips once and she jumps, he catches her on the back of her thighs as she wraps her legs around his waist. He carries to the bed, the kiss never faltering. She wraps her arms around the back of his neck as he lays her down. He pulls away momentarily as he pushes her shirt up, exposing her body to him and he lets out a groan, his head dropping to her chest as he pulls the shirt over her head. He wants nothing more than to taste her and have her squirming and shaking just from his tongue lapping at her. She watches him admiring her body, knowing he’s just taking her time to make her beg, make her needy like he wanted her to be the first time.
The heat between her thighs grows and he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, hooking his arms under her thighs and pulling her to the edge of the bed. He drags his lips lightly up the skin of her inner thighs before his hot breath blows over her clit and makes her buck her hips upwards towards him. She whines and he backs away, creating distance.
“Let me take my time, Grace.” His voice is sweet and honeyed, making her breath catch in her throat. She almost argues, but before she can get a word out his tongue drags through her folds and flicks her clit and she lets out a moan so loud her neighbors would think she’s watching porn. He hums with satisfaction as his mouth closes around her and the vibrations send waves of pleasure straight down her spine.
“Taste so sweet, bunny. Never gonna be able to give you up.” He mutters against her and her hands find his hair, grabbing and fisting as she pulls his head back to her. He licks and sucks at her clit, eating her like a man starved and his name falls from her lips between moans over and over, bringing her closer to release. She glances down as his eyes come up to look at her. He smirks and lets his eyes flutter closed, getting lost in her and she doesn’t think she can hold on any longer.
“H-harry. Gonna cum.” She breathes out and her chest heaves as her breaths become labored.
“I know, sweet girl. Let go for me.” His encouraging words mixed with him pushing two fingers into her is all it takes. He pumps his fingers, hooking and curling finding just the right spot, and she tumbles over the ledge, crying his name over and over as he works her through it. He comes back up to her, kissing her and tasting herself on his tongue is the most erotic she’s ever felt.
“Please.” She begs against his lips and he doesn’t waste any time pulling his heavy cock out of his pants and stripping his shirt off his torso. Her nails rake down his chest and he pumps once with his hand before lining up with her entrance, dragging the head of his cock through her arousal. He pushes in slowly, dropping his head to her shoulder as he groans. He stills once he’s fully inside her, allowing her to adjust to him. She grips onto his biceps as he pulls out to the tip and slowly goes back in. He moans against her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder and her eyes flutter closed, feeling every ridge and every vein. He brings his forehead to meet hers, lips enveloping hers as he pushes in and pulls out, and she knows he's holding back.
“More. Please.” She whines against his mouth and he fulfills her request, picking up his pace as he sits up, pulling her legs over his shoulders and somehow he hits deeper than he already has. She cries out again, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle her moans of pleasure. He grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away and shakes his head.
“No. Wanna hear those pretty noises, bunny.” His voice is low and breathy, hips smacking against hers and her eyes flutter closed. He doesn’t relent, keeping his pace and trailing his thumb over her open lips before pressing it against her tongue. She wraps her lips around it, pulling it further into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. He groans, the image of her on her knees and taking him down her throat on his mind.
“Nobody but me, Grace. Nobody can fuck you like I do.” He says between gritted teeth and she looks up at him with round eyes, his thumb pulling her jaw open and she whines. “You’re mine.” She nods.
“Yours. Only yours.” She says between breaths. His movements begin to falter at her willingness to comply with his words.
“Fuck.” he curses under his breath, letting her legs fall from his shoulder and bending over her as he drives into her. She clenches around him, willing him to come inside her again, craving the feeling it left her with. “Such a good girl.” He mutters against the valley between her breasts. His tongue darts out, licking a stripe up to her neck and pulling her skin between his teeth. His hand comes between their bodies and he presses his thumb against her already sensitive bud. Her hips buck against his hand, and he rubs small circles with light pressure.
“One more, bunny. Need you to give me one more. Know you can.” His movements grow sloppy and her eyes squeeze shut and pleasure sends her brain into a frenzy. The coil snaps and she’s a mess of whining and moaning his name over and over. He follows her as she squeezes around him, his cock twitching as he releases and he holds himself up on wobbly arms.
They lay there for a few minutes, catching their breath and he strokes his thumb over her temple and pushes her hair away from her face. She smiles at him, dazed from the high she’s still coming down from. Their hearts pound in synchrony behind their ribs and he pulls out of her, leaving her feeling empty.
He rolls onto his back beside her, pulling her to his side and holding her for a moment, something he didn’t get to do after the first time, and it was something he thought about every day since then, wanting to shower her with affection afterwards. He nudges her forehead with his nose and he brings his lips to plant a light kiss on the bridge of her nose.
“Only you, Grace.” He says and she smiles. “Only you.”
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azrielsdove · 3 months
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Only You: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Knife-play, Blood, 18+
***
You stumbled down the halls, the bottle of alcohol in your hand sloshing around. You hummed to yourself as you took another deep drink. “Stupid,” you cursed, chiding yourself. You pushed further down the hallway, aiming for the stairs to the training ring. You slowly made your way up them, sticking the bottle into the sand after taking a final swig. “Idiot,” you muttered, tripping over your feet on the way to the weapons. You picked up two daggers, relishing in the feel of the smooth hilts against your hands. These will do.
You moved over to the throwing board, imagining your own face on it. “He will never want you,” you sneered, a taunt to yourself. You threw the first knife, landing it in the perfect middle despite your drunken state. “Ridiculous,” you said as the next blade embedded itself into the wood. You walked up to it, pulling the daggers out with a little more force than required. You were seething with embarrassment and anger at yourself, the sobering feelings ruining the perfectly drunken state you had created.
You continued throwing and retrieving the daggers for a while, letting the cool night air clear your head. Your anger leaked out with every “thunk” in the wood, the blades allowing you to channel your emotions. You plucked them out of the board once more, walking back to your spot as your mind replayed the events of the night.
You had made a fool of yourself at dinner. You knew it had pissed him off, the point of your game. You smiled at the thought, throwing a dagger again. You were fed up with his little act about Elain. While nothing had ever happened between the two of you, he was yours. Or at least, he used to be.
You had hit your tipping point tonight, watching him so delicately help her. Delicate, as if. That was not a word you typically used to describe him. The second dagger flew from your hand, landing perfectly with its sister. You paced over to them again, the repetitive act soothing your hurt. You spun the blade in your hand, feeling the cool metal against your skin. It took all of your self control to not squeeze your fingers around it.
Truth be told, it was his own fault you acted like you did. If he had just pulled his head out of his ass, (or Elain’s ass, whichever you prefer), he would have seen the frustration he was causing you. You wouldn’t have had to make a scene just to get his attention. A smile ghosted on your lips as recalled the red in his face at your words. You raised your hand to throw the dagger again, heart stopping when a cold fist wrapped around your wrist.
“Playing with yourself, are we?”
You knew he intended the double meaning in his words, that he wanted your cheeks to flush. You turned your head towards him, a sickly sweet smile on your face.
“Azriel. What a pleasure.”
He scoffed, the hold he had on you tightening. “What kind of game are you playing, hmm?” He leaned down, his breath ghosting over your ear. “If you wanted me to fuck you that bad, you could’ve just asked.”
Your blood ran cold at his words, at his tone. You had never heard that deep rasp of his voice before. You hated the fire it ignited in you. “You think rather highly of yourself.”
His nose traced along your neck, inhaling deeply. “Do I? Your scent tells me otherwise.”
You ignored the heat pooling in your core, his hard body pressed against your back. “I know how to appreciate an attractive male. It’s unfortunate that body is attached to you.” You shot back, twisting to face him. He held strong to your wrist, a darkness in his eyes you’d never seen.
“What was it you said at dinner? To ‘just screw her already and get over it?’.” He stepped closer to you, chest pressed against yours. “Did you mean her, or were you talking about yourself?”
Your breath hitched at his words, at the way he was looking at you. His gaze was roaming over your body, like you were a dessert he was barely holding himself back from. “Don’t be stupid. Why would I want you?” You knew your words were a lie, and by the look on his face he knew it too.
His other hand slid down to grab your other wrist, slipping both of the daggers out of your grasp. He pressed the flat of one of them under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m tired of this attitude.” He snarled, the cool metal sending a chill through you.
In a flash of silver he had sliced the other dagger down the front of your dinner dress, the fabric falling away from your body. He traced the blade down your chest, your stomach, catching on the waistband of your underwear. Your body was burning under the cold daggers, mind clouded by desire.
“Not so snarky now, are we?” He teased, dragging the blade under your chin down to cut the center of your bra. His shadows swirled up, sliding the destroyed garment off of your shoulders. He hummed in appreciation, using the dagger to circle just outside of your nipples. Your breathing was heavy, an incessant need tugging in your mind.
The dagger on your underwear moved to the sides of the lace, a quick slice happening on both of your hips. You gasped as you felt the blade dig ever so slightly on your left side, drawing blood. The lace fell to the ground, leaving you fully exposed to the Shadowsinger. He ran a thumb over your hip, slowly bringing it up to his mouth. You could’ve finished then, watching him suck your blood off his finger, eyes locked onto yours. “Az,” you murmured, transfixed on his actions.
“I like you like this. Letting me do whatever I want to you.” He brought one of the blades up to your lips, nicking the skin on your bottom one. You felt the blood trickle down your chin, eyes wide with desire. He leaned closer to you, dropping one dagger on the ground to cup your chin with his hand. “So obedient.” He hummed, tongue darting out to lick over your bleeding lip. You couldn’t help the light moan at the feeling of him licking up the blood that had fallen, an act that shouldn’t be as sexy as it was.
Your eyes fluttered closed as he sucked on your bottom lip, tongue running over the wound he had made. You felt his shadows wrap around your thighs, your arms, your stomach. You felt them nudge your legs apart, pressing you closer to him. You needed him to touch you, to kiss you. You tried to move your mouth down just enough so he could, a sharp bite on your lip stopping your actions. “Don’t be greedy now. Not when i’ve waited so long to have you like this.”
His words were accompanied with a harsh slap in between your legs from the flat of the blade. He held the cold metal against your heat, enjoying the desperate moan that fell from you. He trailed the dagger down, circling the soft skin on your inner thigh. You hissed when he dug the tip into you, the pain and pleasure overwhelming. He dropped the dagger with the other when he was done, pushing your head down to force you to look.
You took in the crude “A” on your thigh, inches away from your center. He had marked you. His fingers were tracing the initial now, spreading the blood around like it was paint. He trailed those fingers up your body, bringing your face back up to his. “Beautiful.” He sighed, looking at you like he could see what no one else could.
“Azriel,” you said, “please.” He smiled, one arm wrapping around your waist and holding you close.
“Please what?”
“Touch me.”
You had hardly finished speaking the words when one of his shadows swirled up, vibrating and circling against your clit. You gave a shout, knees buckling. You dug your nails into the shirt he wore, holding yourself up as his shadow worked you. He watched you as you gave into the pleasure it was giving you, observing the way your eyes rolled back in your head at the sensation. “Az,” you breathed, wanting him to touch you.
“Not yet, pet. Let my shadow undo you for me.” He stroked his hand down the side of your face gently, almost lovingly. The shadow working you increased the vibrating and circling, your back arching into him. Your legs were shaking and you were already embarrassingly close to falling over the edge. Azriel held your head up so he could watch the pleasure take over your features, reveling in the sight he finally got to take in.
You gave a loud, gasping moan as his shadow pushed you over the edge, working you harshly through your orgasm. Your nails dug into his shirt so hard it tore, not that you noticed. The shadow didn’t let up as it pushed you through, a silent scream on your lips. “Az, Az, Az” You gasped out, his name a beg.
“It wants you to go again. Can you do that for me?” He asked, lips close to your ear. You shook against him, the pleasure too much. “Let it take care of you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss just under your ear. Your mind was blank with pleasure as the shadow worked you towards another orgasm, not giving you a break after the first one.
“Az, I cant, I cant-“ You breathed out, words cut off by a scream as your second orgasm washed over you. He let out an approving hum, calling his shadows away from you. You collapsed against him, gasping for air. He pulled you into his arms, carrying you to the edge of the training ring. He propped you up on one of the low stone walls lining the edge, one arm tight around you. You looked behind you just a hair, dizzy from how far away the bottom of the mountain was.
“I’m going to fuck you here, and you’re going to scream for me. I want my name to echo around the mountains around us. Do you understand?” His words brought your attention back up to him, breath catching at the hardness he ground against you. “Answer me,” he growled out, kissing and sucking down your neck.
“Y-yes. I understand,” you moaned out, lost in the bliss from his lips.
“Good,” he said, finally pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was harsh, punishing. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking every inch of it. His hand fell down to circle your abused clit, a whimper coming out of you. “Be a good girl for me, give us another one, yea?” He asked, kissing you between each word. You nodded against his touch, words failing you. He dragged one finger down to your opening, thumb moving to continue the assault on your clit. He pushed ever so gently into you, exploring the area.
“Az,” you moaned out, “please don’t tease.” He laughed but obliged, pushing his finger deep inside of you. Your head rolled back at the feeling, how good just one of his fingers felt inside you. Azriel groaned at how wet you were for him, how welcoming you felt. He slid another finger in, curling them perfectly inside. You moaned his name, encouraging his actions. He kissed you again, swallowing the moans coming from you. His fingers sped up, hitting you in a way that made you know you were seconds from another orgasm.
His thumb gave another circle, his fingers thrusting and curling inside you, his lips working yours to the point of bruising. You cried out against him, body tensing as your third orgasm washed over you. This one was even more intense than the first two, breathing stopping as the pleasure took control. He continued his movements through it, only stopping once your body relaxed back into his. “Such a perfect girl for me, aren’t you?” He said appreciatively, undoing the lacing on his pants.
Your jaw dropped as he pulled himself out, the length and girth like nothing you’ve seen before. He pumped himself a few times, thumb spreading the bead of precum on his tip. Your mouth watered, imagining how he would taste. He caught your thoughts, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Next time,” he promised, lining himself up with you. “I need to be inside you now.”
You brought your eyes back up to him, tangling your arms around his neck. The arm around your waist tightened, pressing your body against his. He slid himself through your slick one, two, three times before slowly pushing in. The first inch of him had your eyes rolling back in your head, the pleasure already more than you had ever experienced. He pushed in inch by inch, stretching you in ways you didn’t know were possible. You arched against him, breath catching when he bottomed out. The two of you sat still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size.
“Azriel,” you breathed, “Move.”
He pulled nearly all the way out before thrusting fully back into you, your head falling back with a scream. He kissed and sucked the exposed skin of your throat, hand gripping onto your hair. He groaned against your skin, the sound adding another layer of pleasure to you. You weren’t going to last long after three orgasms, body screaming for him to give you another.
You forced the feeling down, wanting to finish with him. You brought your head down to his, pulling him close for a kiss. You relished in the way he moaned your name against your lips, lost in the pleasure of you. “That’s it,” you hummed, reaching a hand out to stroke his wing lightly. He growled at the feeling, thrusts coming harder and sloppier.
“I won’t last long if you keep that up,” he warned, soft moans interrupting his words as you ran your fingers over the most sensitive parts of his wings.
“Good,” you breathed out, arching your hips up to meet his. “I want you to cum in me.”
He let out a delicious groan at your words, his lips capturing yours again. The hand on your waist was digging into your skin so hard you hoped there’d be bruises tomorrow, a reminder of his desire. You felt that familiar tightening in your abdomen again, preparing for your fourth orgasm to take you. You pushed into each thrust he grave, fingers working his wings until he shook against you.
He roared into your mouth, thrusting as deep as possible inside you when he came. You allowed your own release as he pulsed inside of you, screaming his name just how he wanted. He rode you through the end of your orgasm, never wanting those screams to stop.
He slowed as the pleasure ebbed away, standing still against you. He kissed your swollen lips sweetly, a hand coming up to brush the tears of pleasure away. “It’s always been you,” he whispered, a new vulnerability in his eyes. “I never wanted anyone else. I’ve only ever dreamed of this with you.”
You were overwhelmed with emotion at his words, unable to believe the male you had wanted for so long felt the same way. “I just assumed…” you trailed off, leaving the implication of your words in the air. He nodded, pulling out of you slowly. You whined at the loss of him as he tucked himself back in his pants, pulling his torn shirt off to wrap around your bare body. He cradled you into his arms, carrying you back inside.
“I know. I did too good a job at hiding it.” He said, pushing the door open to his room. He laid you on his bed, moving to draw a warm bath for your sore body. He came back, pulling you into his arms again. “I thought you didn’t feel the same, until you yelled at me tonight. I saw the look in your eye, the same jealousy I had felt every time you laughed too hard with Cass or blushed at Rhys’ words.” He placed you into the warm water, an appreciative moan coming from you as it soothed your body. He pulled his clothes off, sliding into the warmth behind you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, the other wetting your hair so he could wash it. “I realized you felt the same, and that I was a fool for letting this go on so long.” He massaged a sweet smelling shampoo into your hair, your eyes falling closed at the sensation.
“I saw you up there, throwing those daggers in that tight little dress. Any restraint I had snapped.” He explained, soothing fingers running through your hair. “I wasn’t too harsh, was I?” He asked, the hand on your waist falling to brush the “A” he carved onto your thigh.
“No,” you shook your head, “never too harsh.” You had enjoyed every second of his control over you, mind already beginning to dream of the next time. Azriel sensed the thought on you, laughing lowly as he rinsed your hair.
“My insatiable girl.” He mused, massaging the conditioner a little too sensually into your hair. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that clung to your lips. “You’re mine now, yea?” He asked, his breath tickling the back of your neck. You nodded, leaning further into his touch. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear.
“If you ever allude to me wanting someone else, i’ll fuck you right in front of them.”
***
pleaseee let me know your thoughts on this one!!!! <3
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yellowbugifs · 20 days
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69/365 days of regina mills
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emichen88 · 1 year
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“Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle” or in an easier form, ROTTMNT was THE show that broke my art block. This was my first time drawing them and it’s SUPER rough but I was able to find the energy to draw something I really liked. 
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neblisi · 2 years
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heartofmuse · 12 days
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Every day I realize a little bit more how in love with you I am. I have no eyes for another, no desire for anything but you. I want to spend all my time with you. Talk to you about everything, hear your thoughts, and know what is in your heart. I want to embrace you with the best parts of me and give you everything.
e.v.e.
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catholicdog · 7 months
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some of my fave albums/eps 💿
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like-meme · 7 months
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hotboyssstuff · 2 months
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More from Jacob Elordi with Calvin Klein 🔥
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dumblr · 1 year
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I only want this with you.
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aprilblossomgirl · 11 months
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Man Trisanu as Jeng Kittiphong and Ben Bunyapol as Pat Phakphum in ATLAS - รักเธอ ONLY YOU (Ost.ค่อย ๆ รัก Step By Step) Music Video
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wrongplacerighttime · 2 months
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agent!harry x agent!fmc
the one where grace and harry are working a late night at the office. he follows her into the supply closet and things get…interesting…and grace realizes just how much she doesn’t hate him // a blurb for little bunny
part one here // part two here // little bunny masterlist
wc: 3.5k
tw: this basically just filthy, dirty smut. MDNI!! 18+. sir kink, breeding kink, little bit of degradation. not sure what else. lemme know if i missed anything. :)
yes, sir.
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It was late, and the last thing Grace wanted to be doing was typing reports. She had her headphones on, working double duty playing music and holding her hair back out of her face. Her fingers were moving rapidly over the keyboard trying to make the work go as quickly as possible. She had more involvement in the most recent case, which meant there was more paperwork on her part that she needed to make sure got filed properly. She reminded herself this is why she liked to sit back and watch more than she liked to be in the field. Grace also had been consulting on a string of murders around LA county and she was waiting for an email back from the chief of police before she left, and the time zone difference meant she would be here for a while longer. She glanced at the clock, the seconds hand ticking and dancing over the numbers, almost taunting her in a way. Her molars clench together in the back of her mouth stifling a yawn growing from her lungs. It really wasn’t that late, but it was December and the darkness crept into the sky earlier and earlier as the days passed and they were in the thick of the season, winter solstice just around the corner, making 8:00pm feel like 10:00pm, and she was ready for bed.
It didn’t help that Harry was sitting across the room at his desk, working on his own reports and throwing the occasional ball of wadded up paper Grace’s way to get under her skin. She had put the headphones on hours ago to drown out his incessant pen clicking and finger drumming that had caused her to lose focus more times than she could count. She had asked him to stop once but he made it a point to do it more obnoxiously and after she had put on her music to drown it out, he resorted to the paper throwing to continue to get on her nerves. A paper landed right on her keyboard and that was her final straw.
“God damnit Harry! Can you just leave me alone for once?” She rips her headphones from her ears and slams them down on her desk…or rather her keyboard and whatever combination of keys being pressed results in her entire file disappearing, whooshing away into inconceivable nothingness. Her eyes ignite with anger and she launches the paper ball back in his direction, hitting him in the face. She should've thrown something heavier, like her headphones.
His eyes narrow at her before a smirk grows on his face. “I don’t like your attitude, Grace.” He teases in a sing-song voice, heckling her.
“Fuck you. I’m trying to work and you’re distracting me.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair, tipping her head back and looking at the ceiling. “And you just made me delete this whole file so now I have to start over.”
“I didn’t make you do shit, you should have been more careful instead of throwing a fit like a toddler.” He says matter-of-factly with a shrug and she scoffs, rolling her eyes before opening an empty document and deciding it was better to just ignore him. They’re quiet for another moment, Grace trying to calm her breaths while attempting to recall everything that was on her document as Harry’s fingers clicked over his keyboard, humming a familiar tune under his breath. His actions were maddening, but it didn’t stop her eyes wandering over his slightly unbuttoned shirt exposing his skin...didn’t stop her gaze trailing over the tendons in his forearms flexing and relaxing as he typed. She felt the fire traveling down the wire of her spine, settling right in her belly. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and turns back to her computer and sighs.
“What case are you even working on?” She asks, and he glances over at her quickly before looking back to his blank screen. The truth is, he hadn’t really been working on anything at all. They’d been so busy recently, and he had stayed behind during their last case. It had been weeks since they last fucked. He just missed her. He wanted to just be in her proximity, alone, for a little while before he left…but a little bit turned into three hours. He’s been here, with her, daydreaming about taking her into the supply closet and bending her over a shelf.
“Consulting on a suspected LDSK in Denver.” He lies through his teeth and her nose crinkles at his answer.
“I don’t remember seeing that on the list Aaron sent out?” Her statement sounds more like a question, and he scrambles to come up with an excuse.
“Uh, he just put it on my desk this morning. I’m waiting for an email back from the police department.” His jaw ticks once and she knows he’s lying…that’s his tell.
“You’re lying but whatever.” She mutters and he presses his lips in a flat line. She opens the drawer of her desk, looking for a manila folder but instead sees that she’s run out. She stands, walking past his desk on the way to the door. He spins in his chair to follow her with his gaze.
“Where are you going?” He asks, throwing a stress ball in the air before catching it again, repeating the motion but she doesn’t stop walking.
“Supply closet. Does it matter? Wanna come hold my hand so I don’t get lost?” She feigns in a whiny voice and pushes the glass door open, striding down the empty hallway while shaking her head, the atmosphere almost eerie when no one else is here. The hallway is dimly lit from the flood lights, her eyes adjusting to the difference as she rounds the corner and pushes the supply closet door open. She flips the switch on the wall and the door clicks shut. The supply closet was actually an empty office, so “closet” wasn’t the proper label for it. She weaves her way through shelves of office provisions and she hears the door open and shut again. Her heart races, knowing she’s not alone. Realistically, she knows it’s just Harry coming to bother her. They were the only two here. That didn’t make it any less unsettling…something about being in a small, dimly lit space with him making her pulse skyrocket.
“Go away.” She tries to make her words stern, but they come out shaky. She sees his figure standing in the shadows of the room, and she swallows meekly as she turns back to the shelf where the folders are. “You don’t scare me, Styles. If that’s what you’re trying to do.” She feels his presence moving closer to her and her hands shake as she grips the box in her hands.
“Wasn’t. Just miss you.” His voice is low in her ear and he presses his chest against her back, warmth radiating through the thin material of his shirt. He cages her between his arms, his mouth dropping to the crook of her neck and his teeth graze her skin. He bites lightly causing her to wince, then soothes the pain by lapping his tongue over and kissing.
“Miss me?” She twists around to face him. His breath fans over her lips at their close proximity and before she can say anything else, his lips crash to hers and she groans into his mouth. He smiles into the kiss…at the reaction he always seems to be able to pull from her. Their lips move in synchrony, his tongue darting into her mouth the second she parts her lips. Her hands run up his broad chest before going around his shoulders and she tugs the curls at the nape of his neck. She pushes her hips against him, a primal reaction she can never control, her mind forcing her body as close as she can get to him. His strong arms wrap around her waist, covering the expanse of her back and holding her to him as he walks her away from the shelf and backs her into a wall.
“Need me so bad don’t you, bunny? Can't get enough?” He drops his lips to her collarbone as she mewls, her thighs squeezing together trying to relieve the pressure growing between them. And she hates to admit that he was right. She couldn’t get enough. No one compares to him. Nobody ever would…and she can’t help that she craves him. Craves way he stretches her open, craves the way he talks her through it every time…even craves the way he uses the pet name for her because he knows it makes her tummy twist with desire. He ruts his hips into her and she can feel his hardness pressing into her, catching her shirt and exposing her skin to the frigid air in the closet. His fingers dance over her waistband before dipping underneath. He trails a digit between her folds, collecting her arousal before pressing against her sensitive bundle of nerves and her head falls back against the wall, bucking her hips into his hand desperate for more friction. The gates inside her mind were fighting to be let open, and she's holding the mindset she had been so desperate to fall into at bay. She didn’t want to be vulnerable around him, but something about him just had her feeling so hazy, it was intoxicating just being near him.
“Please, sir. Need you.” The words tumbled from her lips before she realized they even came out. She was desperate, her mind slipping quickly into submissiveness, something she’d tried to hide from him for too long. He pulls back to look at her, the title something he’s not used to hearing from her, and he notices the way her eyes are glazed over and her pupils are blown wide inside her irises, her bottom lip jutting out slightly swollen from their kiss. He knows that look anywhere. Maybe not on her…but god did he love it, his own switch flipping inside him and changing his train of thought
“Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.” He hooks a finger under her chin and thumbs over her lips. Grace opens and wraps them around his thumb and sucks lightly, flattening her tongue against the skin. His eyes flutter and he leans his forehead against hers. She watches him through her lashes, doe-eyed and drunk on him. She swirls her tongue around the tip of his thumb and a groan of pleasure escapes from his throat. He feels his cock twitching against the zipper of his pants and when his eyes open, she sees the darkness in his expression and she feels the heat swirl in her belly, one that she’s grown all too accustomed to around him.
“Knees. Now.” He demands and she complies without a second thought. He’s been wanting to feel her pretty lips wrapped around him since the day they met, when she wore the most perfect shade of pink over them. She quickly brings her hands up to undo his belt and he watches from above, his fingers tracing delicately over her jawline.
“Look at you, so desperate to get me in your mouth, like a good little slut.” She whimpers at his words and quickly makes work at the button, popping it open and sliding the zipper down its track. In one swift move she’s greedily pulling at his waistband, yanking the fabric away as his cock springs free and her mouth waters at the sight.
“‘Cause that’s all you are right?” She looks up at him through her lashes and a devilish grin plays on his lips at the sight of her cheeks flustered and he waits for her answer. Her eyes flick down once to his hard dick against his torso, and she nods in confirmation. Her eyes meet his again, pleading for his permission and needing to feel the weight of him in her mouth more than she needs the air she breathes. But before he gives in to her, he wants to hear her say it.
“Words. Wanna hear you say it baby.” He croons and she squeezes her thighs together with a small whine.
“Y-yes, sir. I’m just a slut. Only for you.” She adds and she sees the look in his eyes go a shade darker.
“That’s right, only for me, bunny. Go on. Suck it.” He demands, grinning at her words and this…this is what he’s been waiting for, this scene with her on her knees in front of him…maybe the supply closet where they work wasn’t the best place, but seeing her like this just for him makes up for it. She parts her lips and wraps them around his tip, sucking and kissing, grazing lightly and teasing him just a little. His fingers intertwine through the strands of her hair, gripping at the root and pushing her forward. She opens further for him, tears pricking her lash line as he nudges the back of her throat. She breathes through her nose, and his chin drops to his chest taking in the sight below him. A sight that fills his fantasies, the image he conjured up in his head to help him get himself off on many lonely nights, and it’s better than he could’ve ever imagined.
“Fuck, Grace. Just like that baby. So good. Look so pretty like this.” His words encourage her, wanting nothing more than to please him. Steadying herself, she grips her hands on his thighs, dimpling the muscle under his skin as she pushes herself further, taking as much of him as she could down her throat and swallowing around him. His free hand darts up to the wall to hold himself up, the sensation of her throat squeezing around him making his knees weak. A string of expletives fall from his lips as his eyes flutter closed, rolling back into his head. He pulls away momentarily and she breathes in, before he’s slowly thrusting back in and making her gag around his cock again and again.
“Fucking hell. Look at you…taking it all down that pretty throat. Knew you could, knew you’d do so good for me.” He speaks between gritted teeth. His encouragement sends her mind into a frenzy and she flattens her tongue against him as she pulls her head away, leaving just the tip and she swirls her tongue around it before sliding him down her throat again, repeating the motions. He tightens his grip around the strands of her hair, pulling at the root and she hums, sending vibrations through his length. With a curse under his breath, he pulls her off before she has him cumming down her throat. She breathes deeply, the deprivation of air stinging her lungs as it filters back in through her nose. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths and her lips are swollen, tears stained with mascara streaming down her cheeks from his intrusion. He can’t help but think she looks ethereal like this, all drunk and dumb just from his cock down her throat. “Up, baby.” He commands and she stands, he takes her cheeks between his hands and brings his lips to hers, melding them together and her eyes squeeze shut, still searching for the breaths she lost.
“Please fuck me.” She begs, her voice raspy as she breaks the kiss and he wastes no time as he spins her around, her chest pressing against the wall. He yanks her jeans and underwear down all in one go, running his hands over her now exposed skin as he’s eye level with her dripping hole.
“So pretty.” He mumbles, running his thumb over her and watches as she clenched around nothing. He taps her ass lightly once before he stands and she grins. He guides himself to her, sliding through her arousal and bumping against her clit. Grace looks down, watching the way he slides between her folds and his tip glistening with a mixture of the both of them in the dim lighting. He pulls back and slowly, finally, pushes himself into her and her eyes flutter closed, a garbled groan coming from the depths of her throat at the stretch, feeling every ridge…every vein. He stills once he’s fully sheathed inside of her, grabbing her wrists and forcing them behind her at the base of her spine. He holds them there as he pulls out, cursing under his breath at the way she grips him. He snaps his hips, pushing through her walls without warning and she feels the tears well in her eyes once more, the pain mixing with the pleasure sending sparks down her spine straight to her clit. He drives into her again and again, sweat forming on his hairline and cries and moans falling from her lips.
“Gonna fill your pretty little pussy up, get you all full of my cum.” He leans over her and speaks against the shell of her ear. A pathetic whine leaves her throat at the image of him dripping from between her legs and down her thighs. And she loves it, every single time she can’t get enough, feels like it gets her high. He feels her clench around him at his words and he smirks. “Yeah? Y’like that? Like the thought of me claiming you, branding you with my cum?”
“Yes — god yes..” She groans, the thought of walking around with him all warm inside her making her feel floaty. His grip on her wrists tightens and she bites her lip, the pressure inside her growing and coming to a head.
“Sweet bunny, bet you’d like it if I got you pregnant too, huh — fuck — wanna see that cute little belly swollen, let everyone know who you belong to.” He growls, his teeth brushing the cartilage of her ear, and her head is spinning at the image he’s painting inside her head with his filthy words. His ring-clad hand reaches around her hip and he presses his fingers against her clit, her head falling back against his shoulder. She pants, feeling his broad chest against her back, the friction of their bodies making her skin hot. He pinches the pearl of nerves between his fingers and her mouth falls open.
“Oh fuck Har-Harry I’m gonna —”
“I know, bunny. Squeezing me so tight, cum for me.” He rubs his fingers over her clit and then she’s seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut and his name falling from her lips like a prayer as she pulses around him, pulling him over the edge with her. He grunts and groans against her shoulder, praising her and riding through his own orgasm while holding her up. Her legs feel like jello and when she feels him twitching inside her she hums in contentment. His hips still, and he leaves open mouth kisses against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin and leaving goosebumps.
After another moment catching his breath, he pulls out of her and tucks himself back into his pants. He bends down, pulling her pants up for her and spinning her around to button them. She looks up at him through her dopey eyes and he knows she isn’t quite back down to earth yet.
“Gonna hold all of me in there til you get home, m’kay sweet girl?” He brings his forehead to hers as she nods aimlessly. He pecks her in the tip of her nose once. Then her lips and she lets out a whimper into his mouth. “Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” She mewls and he smirks, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the supply room. He walks them back to their desks, gathering her laptop and papers into her bag as she watches him, her conscience coming back to reality slowly but surely. He doesn’t say anything, offering his hand to her again wordlessly and she reluctantly takes it. They ride the elevator down to the lower level in silence, his foot tapping on the floor. When the doors open, she keeps her head low and quickly exits, making her way out the front door of the building to her car parked across the street. He follows behind her, parked in the same lot. He turns to her before opening his door. She bites her lip, fighting the grin that wants to emerge.
“See you tomorrow, bunny.” He says just loud enough for her to hear, the streetlight casting a warm light over his features making her heart swell. She nods.
“Tomorrow.” They both slide into the drivers seats of their cars. She watches as he drives off, a pang in her chest almost wishing she was going with him. She shakes the thought away, starting her car and driving home on autopilot as her mind wanders, her thoughts full of him…his voice…his eyes…the ink scarred into his skin. She pulls up to her apartment building, sighing and cursing herself.
She thinks she’s falling for him. Grace walks inside, her mind racing around in circles.
She couldn’t be in love with him, because they weren’t supposed to let their feelings get in the way of their job…and whatever else they had going on between them. It was just sex. She runs her hands through her tangled hair as she unlocks her door, pushing herself inside and dropping her bags on the floor. She completes her night routine in record time and climbs between the covers sheets on her bed, her head hitting the pillow signifying her favorite time of the day. Her mind is a little hazy still, and sleep pulls her under into dreamland.
They were filled with him, and she was fucked.
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batwynn · 1 month
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If you grew or are growing up with a family member who did or does Bad/Abusive Things and was, objectively, a Bad/Abusive Person and were ever compared to them, or told you acted like them, or warned that you were becoming them, please take this and hold it in your heart as much as you can.
Any shared characteristics and behaviors, ‘good’ or ‘bad’ do not make you that person. You are your own person with your own path and choices.
Not cleaning your room does not make you that person. Getting angry does not make you that person. Liking the same things does not make you that person. Even looking like them does not make you that person. You are not them. You are fully yourself.
And, in the same vein, if you find yourself behaving in ways that might feel ‘Bad’ or harmful to others, you have the right and the choice to get help to find your way back from that point.
Nothing is enviable, and you are your own person with your own path.
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