#i mean sure it raises some questions about consent

[sweetpapercroissant]

“dean winchester is a misogynist because he lies to women to get them to sleep with him and therefore clearly doesn’t respect them”

then you actually watch the show and every time dean sleeps with a woman he’s soft and there’s a gentleness even in his passion and he always makes sure his partner’s satisfied/comfortable and he does form genuine connections with the women he sleeps with even if he lies about his name and job (which is completely understandable and actually the sane thing to do considering most of america knows him as a serial killer and there’s not a lot of people around who’d bother talking to a guy who claims he hunts monsters for a living) (or for fun ig since there’s not a lot of ‘living’ in this profession) and he spends time getting to know them and offers the little bits of himself that he can and most of the time that dean has sex with a woman he sleeps over and they see him off in the morning with a goodbye kiss and genuine affection for him and if they ever run into him again they’re clearly fond and look back on their shared memories with satisfaction if nothing else and. this is the guy who doesn’t respect women? how? by believing they are adults who can want and enjoy a night of sex with no strings attached (something he’s always straightforward about btw)?? and more importantly it’s always consensual and they like him as a person and they’re clearly both enthusiastic about it (in fact there’s actually instances where dean isn’t completely enthusiastic but never the other way around).

also any time he’s been in a serious relationship where he was going to be a part of the other person’s life he tells them the whole truth, about hunting and monsters and his role in it and what being with him would entail. so i’d say he respects women just fine but maybe you need to seriously evaluate why you feel having casual sex with women is inherently disrespectful of them.

not to mention that the sex does mean something to him. even if he didn’t it wouldn’t be “wrong” or “misogynistic” to want to have sex with a woman without a relationship BUT. the sex does mean something to him. because he craves intimacy and human contact and affection and being liked and wanted and so often when he’s going through something he’ll open up to these women (jaime, anna) and they’re willing to listen to him without judgment and they’re gentle with him, with his grief, his trauma and the sex is a way for him to connect on a deeper level with them and it helps him and he’s spent almost his entire life isolated from society and can’t form long lasting relationships for much of his childhood and youth but he actually cares about them as human beings and he feels affection for them and it fulfills his desire for tenderness that he can’t expect from anyone else. and there’s nothing wrong with any of that.

#this has to be one of the dumbest things i’ve seen people say about it #i mean sure it raises some questions about consent #but even when he lies about his job he never pretends to be a different person than who he is #what you see is what you get with him #and even when he lies about his job with #motive (???) beyond that. information or just flirting (although let’s be honest it’s the former WAY more often than the latter) he never #actually has sex with someone who he thinks might want to sleep with him just because of his job. #that has never happened #sometimes he just likes playing different parts because it’s fun #and there’s nothing wrong with that either #and he isn’t the only character on spn who’s done this so why is this question only raised when it comes to dean? #and #some of y’all straight up have a weird relationship with sex #supernatural #dean winchester #dean and sex #dean meta #.txt

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)

word count: 3.5k

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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 

Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 

Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 

Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 

The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 

You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 

“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 

There it was. The truth. 

Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 

Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 

Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 

You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.

 It was a guard. 

So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 

He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 

“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 

Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 

You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 

You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 

Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 

With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 

“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 

Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 

And so they did. 

The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 

 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 

This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 

Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 

But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 

“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 

He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 

Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 

He had to pay for what he did to you. 

And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 

The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 

The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 

“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 

His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 

And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 

Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 

You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 

Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 

The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 

You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 

“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 

Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 

The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 

Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 

“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 

You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 

Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 

“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 

Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 

“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 

“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 

You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 

“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 

You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 

“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 

Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 

“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 

“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 

You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 

“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 

Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 

“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 

He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 

You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 

“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 

You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 

You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 

“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 

Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 

“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 

“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 

You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 

“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 

“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 

“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 

“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 

You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 

You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 

One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 

Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

[luvf4ngz]

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly. 

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention. 

 "You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed. 

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him. 

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was. 

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.” 

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?” 

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention. 

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice." 

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied. 

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now. 

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle. 

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen. 

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch. 

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event. 

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things. 

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned. 

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?” 

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance. 

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest. 

This was a much better use of his time. 

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast. 

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands. 

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page. 

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you. 

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.” 

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?” 

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body. 

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.” 

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this. 

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!” 

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand. 

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.” 

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing. 

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.” 

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes. 

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm. 

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist. 

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming. 

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher. 

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping. 

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out. 

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter. 

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you. 

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation. 

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you. 

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one. 

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly,  and he never wants to stop hearing your voice. 

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?” 

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body. 

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you. 

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed. 

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame. 

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins. 

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud. 

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face. 

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub. 

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could. 

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths. 

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason. 

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him. 

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you. 

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard. 

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him. 

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you. 

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break. 

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue. 

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins. 

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia. 

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew. 

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in. 

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole. 

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore. 

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small. 

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his. 

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips. 

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh. 

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again. 

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt. 

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms. 

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over. 

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat. 

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask. 

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”  

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers. 

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language. 

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting. 

He’s…. big. 

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance. 

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists. 

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter. 

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again. 

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother. 

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside. 

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos. 

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him. 

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.” 

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble. 

“Isn’t it?” He grins. 

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock. 

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come. 

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body. 

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust. 

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins. 

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat. 

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls. 

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once. 

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp. 

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder. 

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”  

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.” 

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred. 

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him. 

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly. 

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

#sumi — dc. #sumi — my love. #sumi — works. #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #dc x reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

-

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend… And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip. 

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat. 

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick. 

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos. 

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again. 

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. ���Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

#ikea writes 💚 #asks #cod smut #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley has piercings change my mind #reqs #gazghost #ghostgaz #ghaz #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #ghost smut

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Trigger Points

Pairing: Erotic Massage Therapist Ezra x f!reader (not romantic)

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Medical kink, massage kink (is that a thing?), erotic massage, mentions of sexual dysfunction and difficulty orgasming, consent forms, the clinical is erotic now, power imbalance due to the masseur/patient dynamic, mentions of uhhh *checks notes* anal massage, lots of vaginal fingering I mean massaging, pelvic floor massaging but make it erotic, dubcon only in the sense that Ezra says orgasm is not the goal and then definitely deliberately gives her one anyway, g-spot orgasms, squirting, Penny gets on her soapbox at the end

Summary: Ezra is a massage therapist. What kind, you ask? Internal massage. That’s it that’s the fic.

A/N: I wrote this in twenty-four hours in a horny unhinged writing frenzy. Am I embarrassed that this came from my brain? Yes. Am I posting it anyway? Also yes. Thank you to @littlebirdsbookshelf for the beta (and all of the screaming) and to @leslie-lyman for egging on the medical kink that I definitely don't have.

Masterlist

You aren’t sure what you’re doing here.

This isn’t like you.

As you stare at the nondescript building–no sign, no name on the door–you think back to the seemingly random circumstances that brought you here.

The party you hadn’t wanted to go to. 

The friend–acquaintance–who insisted.

The man with a distinctive blonde streak that kept lingering by the snack table and popping cocktail shrimp into his mouth with an enthusiasm that had made you look twice in wary amusement.

Like so many men, he’d taken your glance in his direction as an invitation to come over and start a conversation, but the resulting discussion was decidedly unlike any other man–or human–you’d come across.

Loquacious to the point of being humorous, the man–Ezra, he told you–was disarming and insightful. You opened up to him immediately; he seemed to have this uncanny ability to pull your life’s story from your lips, much to your surprise and chagrin. Did you really tell a strange man at a party that you’ve been from doctor to doctor, complaining of sexual pain and dysfunction, only to be given dismissive, unhelpful advice? Have a glass of wine, one said. Use different soap, said another. Make sure your laundry detergent is fragrance-free. 

“I think I’m just built wrong,” you said bitterly, taking a sip from your wine glass. “Anyway, it’s fine. You didn’t sign up to listen to a stranger’s problems at some house party.”

“On the contrary,” Ezra replied mysteriously, raising one eyebrow as he regarded you with amusement. “I think our fortuitous meeting must have been arranged by the universe itself.”

Fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, he had handed you a business card that had only his first name–Ezra, no last name, and a phone number.

“I just happen to be a certified massage therapist, trained to assist with the very complaints of which you speak.”

“What kind of massage?” you’d asked, scrunching up your face in skepticism.

“Internal massage.”

You may have told him to fuck off then and there. You may have made your excuses and left the party in your embarrassment over having spilled your heart to a stranger with a questionable line of work, to say the very least. 

…You may have called two weeks later to inquire about an appointment.

The woman who answered the phone in that same kind of warm, soothing tone that seems to be common in so many legitimate massage practices made you feel slightly less insane about calling. The lengthy consent form she emailed after hanging up, however, sent you spiraling again.

Extensive questions about sexual history, your beliefs about sex, your relationship to sex, your experience with pain, dysfunction, your sexuality, etc. Check boxes indicating your level of experience and comfort with a number of sexual acts and situations. And at the end, three check boxes asking whether you would like to be massaged vaginally, anally, or both. 

A bell tinkles pleasantly when you open the door, and the scent of lavender fills your nose. Soft, soothing music plays from a hidden speaker somewhere, and one of those self-contained rock garden water fountains bubbles away in the corner of the brightly lit waiting room.

A woman behind the desk greets you–it must be the same one you’d spoken to on the phone–and checks you in. She walks you through what to expect during the appointment–first, you’ll meet with Ezra to discuss the consent form, then you’ll be asked to disrobe and lay on the massage table under a sheet. The type of care you’re given, she tells you, depends on what you put down on the consent form, which of course she hasn’t read, so she can’t tell you any specifics. 

“But he specializes in women with sexual dysfunction?” you ask skeptically. It had said as much on the forms. 

“Oh, yes,” the woman nods enthusiastically. “I know it’s an unusual service he provides, but Ezra is a professional, conscientious, and passionate about the work he does.”

You nod slowly, and she flashes you a warm, comforting smile before instructing you to sit anywhere.

You do, trying not to look too nervous as you wait.

Thankfully, you aren’t there for too long before a door opens, and Ezra softly calls your name.

Your nerves cause you to babble as you follow the man to the quiet, dimly-lit massage room. “Sorry I told you to fuck off,” you say. “That was pretty rude, and I’m sure it’s weird that I’m here now even though I clearly thought you were a pervert at the party, and–” you trail off, standing awkwardly beside the massage table as Ezra sits on a rolling stool.

“Now, now. Water under the bridge, I assure you, sprite. My profession is often met with skepticism at best and outright hostility at worst, but I let the testimonials speak for themselves. I assume you’ve read them?”

You nod, thinking back to the paragraphs of women saying they’d never known their bodies were capable of such pleasure before experiencing what they had called erotic massage.

“And I have read your consent form very carefully; I like to commit these things to heart, you see. Helps me do my job to the very best of my ability. Now, I did have a question about your very last answer: you made a checkmark indicating you were interested in vaginal massage only, but drew in a little question-mark next to anal massage.”

“I’m not sure yet,” you say, too quickly, jumbling the words together. “Depends on how… how…”

“How everything goes. Of course.” Ezra nods, making a quick note on your form. “I’ll consider you to be a vaginal-only patient for now, to be revisited at a later date if so desired.”

“Kay,” you squeak.

“Allright, let me give you a rundown of how this works. I’m not a sex worker; my job isn’t to make you orgasm. Like any massage therapist, my job is to find muscles that need to be worked out, and work them out. I just happen to specialize in muscles that other areas of practice typically ignore. This will involve both internal and external work–you might find that I might press on your lower abdomen, for example, with the other hand inside you. I always start slow with new patients; I’ll begin externally, massaging the entire pubic area and finding spots that might require extra attention. When you’re ready, we’ll move to an internal massage starting with one finger and seeing how many is most comfortable for you right now. Eventually, as we progress through your appointments, the goal is for the internal massage to involve two hands.

“Now, all that being said, the goal of these sessions might not be orgasm, but I want to let you know that it is normal and okay if that happens during your massage,” Ezra continues. “This is a safe space, and your comfort and pleasure is encouraged through this process. All of that seem hunky-dory?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod rapidly.

“Perfect. If you’re ready to get started, I’ll leave the room so you can get undressed. You can undress only from the waist down if you’re comfortable, or you can disrobe completely; the rest of you will be covered by the sheet, so it’s all down to what you prefer.”

Ezra leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, and you take a few moments to steady yourself before taking off only your pants and underwear. Grimacing at the awkwardness, you tuck the underwear into your jeans and place your shoes on top of both on the spare chair in the corner of the room. Then, you lie down under the sheet and wait.

Ezra taps lightly to herald his return before opening the door. “Good,” he says, seeing you laying stiffly on the massage table. “I’m going to check in many times during this first appointment especially,” he explains. “So much so that you may tire of it. You may simply say ‘good,’ when I ask how you are feeling, and I will continue. If you do not feel good at any point, I must ask that you say so. Sound okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, this massage table is custom made for my area of practice specifically,” Ezra explains, reaching under the table and unfolding a pair of stirrups–the kind you’ve seen many times at the gynecologist–and you grimace.

“Ah, I know, most people on this table do not have the most positive memories associated with these,” Ezra tuts, “and if you aren’t sure about using these, we can simply rest your legs on either side of the table.”

“I think I’m okay,” you tell him, cautiously reaching your feet out until your legs are uncomfortably splayed open. 

“You tell me if that changes.” Ezra sits down on the stool and rolls it over to sit at the front of the table. “I’m going to do the external massage with the sheet down,” he says. “No need for a cold breeze if it isn’t necessary, after all. As discussed before, I’m going to feel around the entire pubic area, finding anything that needs extra attention. If you’ve gotten a regular massage, you might notice that this one is much gentler; there won’t be any harsh poking or prodding, just light pressure and rubbing. If that’s all good, sprite, say the word and I’ll begin.”

“I’m good.”

“Very good. First, we’re going to warm up a little by touching your inner thighs. All muscles in this area are interconnected, so this will help soften things up as well.” 

You keep your eyes closed and let out a slow breath through pursed lips as you feel Ezra’s large, warm hands slowly working out the tension in your thighs. The unfamiliar feeling of someone’s hands in such an intimate area is an odd one, at first, but you can’t help but slowly begin to relax as he works out the delicate muscles of the upper-most part of your legs.

“Checking in again, sprite, how are we feeling?”

“Good,” you answer, with a little more confidence this time. “It’s good.”

“Excellent,” Ezra praises. “If we’re feeling nice and comfortable about it, I’m going to start to move upward and inward. You’ll feel me touch your outer labia, your perineum, and your pubic bone as we move forward. How do we feel about that?”

“Nervous,” you admit, giggling awkwardly. “But good.”

“Of course, sprite, it’s normal to be nervous about an unfamiliar sensation. Always remember that you are able to say ‘stop’ at any time.”

At your nod, Ezra’s hands shift, his thumbs beginning to rub up and down the outside of your labia. He rubs little circles around the entire area, including–something that makes your entire body flush with heat immediately–the skin just above your little puckered hole. 

“I know, I know,” Ezra soothes. “Just trying to get a complete picture here. We aren’t doing any internal massage in this area, but you may feel my fingers on the skin around it occasionally.”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding again.

“You’re doing so well, sprite. I’m going to stay external, but we’re going to start to examine a little deeper, does that sound okay? I’ll be rubbing your inner labia this time, spreading them apart to examine your vulva, urethra, and clitoris with my fingers. This is where it might start to feel pleasurable, or it could feel odd and uncomfortable as you become accustomed to this type of massage.”

“Yep,” you say, voice tight with anxiety again.

“I need a little bit more than that, sprite,” Ezra chastises. “Are you good to continue?”

“Yes. Good.”

“I can tell you’re nervous; why don’t you take a deep breath in for me for the count of five…” he counts slowly as you obey, “...and as you let it out slowly, you’re going to feel my hands move inward.”

The feel of Ezra running his slicked fingers up and down your inner labia doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable as you’d feared. You’ve never been touched like this, or even touched yourself like this. It’s an exploration of sorts, collecting some data that means something only to him, perhaps. After a short time, he pulls you apart with his thumb and forefinger, spreading you open. 

“I’m going to rub back and forth just on the surface level,” Ezra says, “You might feel my thumb press down on a few places to locate any areas to focus on later.”

You take more slow, even breaths as you feel his warm thumb move from your perineum to your clit, then back down again. In a few places, he presses down, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as he locates some unknown source of tension.

“How well you're doing,” Ezra praises warmly. “I've definitely found some areas of tension that we can work on during your sessions. This isn't the end of the external massage, per se, as I'll still want to work on some of those spots, but this is where I start to add an internal component, if you're up to it. What are we thinking?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I'm okay with that.”

“Good. As I explained before, I'm going to start very slow. I work with clients with a wide range of comfort levels and ability, and I'm not going to push anyone too far before they're ready. Not to be glib or reductive, but this is not dissimilar to a basic shoulder massage. I'll be working all along the muscles of your vaginal wall. We'll start with just one finger, and if that's comfortable for you, we'll see how it goes with two. I'm going to slowly slide one finger in, let you adjust to how that feels, and then I'll begin the massage on your right side, moving to the back, the left, and then the front, around in a little circle like so. At the same time I'll be gently pressing with my other hand so that I can get a feel for the muscles that are stiff, sore, or carry any tension. If at any point any sensation is unpleasant, please bring it to my attention immediately. In that event, I will stop and reassess. If that discomfort is the result of muscle or pelvic floor tension, we will slowly, slowly work through it without causing you any pain. Is all of this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“And am I okay to begin your internal massage?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. Just as before, I'm going to spread open your labia nice and wide, only this time you are going to feel my finger slowly enter you. Once inside, we'll take a few deep breaths together, I'll ask if you are comfortable, and I'll begin the massage.”

As Ezra speaks, he does each action in turn. You feel your labia being parted, and then one slick, warm finger slips inside. It hits a bit of resistance when he passes your pelvic floor, but doesn't cause any pain. At his instruction, he guides you through three deep breaths as you become accustomed to the sensation.

“I'm going to begin moving now,” he announces. “Beginning on your left side.”

It's an odd feeling to adjust to, the way Ezra’s finger moves inside you. With his other hand pressing sometimes on your hip, sometimes at your side, you can feel him pressing against your wall in–true to his word–the same way one might massage a shoulder. This is just… very different. Or perhaps it's the same, and your brain only perceives it as such. 

Despite the awkwardness of having someone rubbing such an intimate, deep, vulnerable part of your body, you can admit that something does feel good about this. Ezra is right, of course; there are muscles internally as well as externally, and you've never had yours attended to in such a way before. 

Ezra’s finger rubs this way and that, covering all possible knots and tense spots on that particular side. 

“Checking in, sprite,” he intones gently. “How does it feel?”

“Weird… but kinda good. I think I understand why you say it's just like a shoulder massage–I never really thought about having muscles there, but… I can feel them relaxing the same way they would as… as if it were my shoulder.”

“No physical difference between the two,” Ezra says, voicing your earlier thought. “Only up here do we make a distinction.” He taps the side of his head and gives you a sideways grin. “If we’re feeling pretty good with one, would you like to try adding one more? It all depends on your level of comfort, but it is easier to get at the muscles with two, rather than one. Would you like to try?”

The gentle loosening of the muscles you hadn't even known were tense is surprisingly soothing, so of course, you agree.

“You're doing so well at checking in with me,” Ezra says. “Take a nice deep breath for me, and we’ll switch to two fingers. Ready?”

You make a little noise of assent, and as you exhale, you feel the pressure inside you increase as Ezra slips another finger inside you. 

“Doing good, sprite. I’m going to move to the muscles at the back of your vaginal walls now, which means my other hand is going to be pressing up on your lower back and buttocks. Is this fine?”

“That’s fine, yeah,” you nod, and at your consent, Ezra goes back to his steady, methodical working of your pelvic floor. 

At this new angle, the sensations inside you are new and different from before. When he was massaging your left side, all you could really feel was the gentle push and pull as your muscles were soothed and relaxed. You can still feel the muscle tension easing away… but it’s very quickly being replaced by a different kind.

You try to focus on taking deep breaths in and out of your nose as Ezra seems to draw heat into your core with every stroke. You stop focusing on the relaxation entirely, instead concentrating every effort to not make any awkward noises that indicate how much your body is responding to his touch.

You really should have known better.

“Many people find that different areas of the vaginal wall can cause different kinds of sensations,” Ezra says quietly as he gently rubs small circles from within you while pressing just above your puckered hole. “The front vaginal wall, of course, has the tendency to produce the strongest impression because of what most people call the g-spot, but the rear wall is also very responsive. I want to remind you of what we discussed earlier; that you are welcome and encouraged to lean into those feelings. It is common for patients to come to orgasm multiple times during a session, and can be helpful for further muscle relaxation. All this to say, sprite, you don’t have to work to suppress the fact that this feels pleasurable. Of course it does. It’s far more advantageous for you to allow it to happen rather than spend the session working to rein it in. Understand?”

“Y-Yeah,” you nod, trying to sink back down onto the massage table again and stop fighting against your body’s automatic responses.

Even so, you don’t really believe you could orgasm from just this. Hell, you can barely orgasm during sex even when you use a vibrator. Your body’s need for intense, prolonged clitoral stimulation is simply a fact. A law, as immutable as gravity, and no amount of “internal massage” would ever have the same effect. 

“If you ever do wish to revisit that last little question on the consent form, one type of treatment that can be incredibly effective is to massage the area in between, if you take my meaning,” Ezra comments lightly, as though discussing the weather. “It’s perfectly workable through what I’m doing now, of course, but even though I’m capturing the same general area, in my years of practice I’ve actually found that anal massage is an important component in achieving a comprehensive relaxation of all pelvic muscles.”

“Okay,” you say dumbly. His words–all the more impactful because of the detached clinical tone–combined with the constant pressure of his fingers, are creating a maelstrom of pleasure in your brain. You still aren’t sure if you’re “allowed” to find this entire situation to be incredibly erotic, but you worry you’ll soon have no choice, especially if your mind keeps conjuring up how it might feel to have both of Ezra’s hands rubbing something deep within you. How full you might feel.

“Nothing that needs to be discussed now or even in the near future, sprite,” he adds. “But just something to keep in the back of your mind as we progress through treatment.”

“Mm,” you agree. It’s–oh God, are you going to come? The pressure is building, building inside you, and even though there’s nothing touching your clit, it feels as though you might be reaching that point of no return. You make a soft, whining, desperate little sound as Ezra massages your vaginal wall with methodical precision.

“I know, I know,” he soothes in that syrupy voice of his. “Take a few deep breaths for me–I promise, it’s okay to let it go. Allow your body to do what it’s meant to do.” At this, he presses down even harder, and you gasp as you suddenly begin to clench around his fingers. Your chest heaves as you ride the waves of pleasure until they subside to a gentle ebb. Ezra remains still throughout it all, waiting patiently until you stop twitching with aftershocks.

“See? So much better when you listen to your body,” he praises. “Can you feel that? It causes your muscles to relax even further, so much more effectively than even I can manage. Feel the difference right here–” he rubs a wide circle up and down your wall, “–there’s so much less tension now, isn’t there?”

“Yeah,” you agree, still catching your breath.

“Let’s do a quick check-in before I move on,” Ezra suggests, “and while we do, I’d like to make a quick recommendation, if you are amenable.”

“That’s fine,” you answer. 

“Give us a quick run-down of how you’re feeling,” he says. “Any pain? Discomfort?” When you shake your head, he continues. “How about mentally? Orgasm can make us feel vulnerable, and that’s perfectly okay, of course, but not if it leads to feeling uncomfortable or unsafe.”

“It still feels a little… strange, but I’m okay.”

“Ah, of course. Now, as far as my recommendation… Now that you’re far more relaxed, I think it might be helpful to switch to three fingers. How do you feel about that?”

You swallow. “It might feel like a lot,” you admit quietly.

“Indeed,” Ezra agrees. “As a general rule, the more fingers I am able to use, the more effective the massage. The ideal internal massage would be either with all four fingers on one hand, or a combination of three and two. If you’re feeling at all apprehensive about discomfort, however, I think it would be better to wait and see, yes?”

“Yes,” you nod gratefully. 

“Moving on to your right side, sprite,” he says cheerfully. “Halfway there, and doing great.”

You can see what Ezra had been saying–you can feel that your walls are more pliant and moldable after your orgasm. However, it’s also made your nerves more sensitive to his touch, and the intense feeling of pleasure continues to flicker inside you with every gentle probe of his fingers. 

You begin to float, losing track of time and simply focusing on the sensations within you. Ezra quiets down when he senses your more meditative state, and continues to massage with minimal commentary. When his thick fingers begin to move, pressing upward toward your abdomen, however, your breath catches and your hips lift of their own accord.

“My apologies, sprite. I should have warned you I was moving to the front wall before I did so, but you were in such a state of utter relaxation that I was loathe to speak up.”

“S’fine.”

“You may find this area to be the most intense in terms of sensation,” Ezra comments. “There’s a reason I usually save it for last.”

You make a slightly garbled, strained noise of assent as his other hand rubs gentle circles on your mons pubis while the other continues its deliberate path up and down your walls, soothing out all of the tension and finding some incredibly sensitive spots as it does.

Ezra pauses over one such area, and, in such exquisite torture that makes you actually cry out into the room, curls both fingers up to apply even more pressure.

“Ah, that,” he chuckles to himself. “That thing–the little area they call the ‘g-spot’–it’s not some mysterious, unique phenomenon, nor is it mythological. What they didn’t know at the time–and far too many people still are not aware–is that the clitoris is much larger than just the little bit that we see on the outside.” His fingers rub little circles, back and forth, up and down, massaging so meticulously that it feels almost ruthless. “Sooo many nerves in one relatively small place,” he murmurs. “Stimulating the clitoris is normally the most reliable way to acheive orgasm, and yet so little of it is accessible. But here–” he presses up again, and you gasp, “–here we are able to access the other end of the organ.”

You can hardly concentrate on the original goal of muscle relaxation with so much pressure on your g-spot (or, apparently, the back of your clitoris) but you can still feel Ezra dutifully and clinically working out the tension in your pelvic floor. 

“Doing so well, sprite, so well. One nice, big, relaxing orgasm for me and then we’ll gently explore how the tension lessens afterward.”

Despite his insistence before your appointment that orgasm was not the goal of these sessions, you can’t help but notice Ezra appears to be guiding you towards one with masterful precision. With one hand applying light pressure on your abdomen and the other pressing upward to meet it, it feels as though he’s got the most sensitive organ of your body trapped between his fingers. He plays it like an instrument, each finger working independently to stroke different parts of the soft, spongy membrane. 

Finally, finally, the pressure becomes so much that you simply seem to implode; all at once, you clamp down on Ezra’s fingers like a vice as your lower back lifts from the table. A feeling of pure, hot, wet relief surges through you, and the release feels endless, as though your body simply cannot stop pulsing and contracting. Dimly, you realize that it must be the ruthless stimulation from Ezra’s hands keeping you suspended in what feels like a never-ending orgasm. His fingers press upwards, rubbing quickly and insistently back and forth against the sensitive organ, and the movement draws more and more rhythmic clenches that seem to ripple across the entire area. 

And–Oh, God–with each intense throb, little streams of fluid splash out over Ezra’s hand, and you realize with absolute mortification that the sheet, massage table, and Ezra’s white coat are already soaked with your release.

“Oh shit, I’m sorr–” you try to apologize as soon as you have the presence of mind.

“Now, now, not to worry, little sprite. Any manifestation of pleasure is welcomed and encouraged here, and I’ve been at this long enough to know that stimulating the back of the clitoris oftentimes results in strong and voluminous ejaculations…” You twitch with one last, pathetic aftershock, and Ezra soothingly rubs his fingers up and down your wall in the same way one might rub someone’s back after a long day. “But feel the difference, little sprite. Feel how supple and pliant your muscles are compared to before. This is the state we strive for, little sprite. Complete and utter relaxation. When you find yourself starting to tense up again–such is the consequence of the stressful lives we lead–I want you to call up this moment, and the way your pelvic muscles so easily move for my hand, and try to get back to this state. With enough practice on your own in between sessions, this will become easily achieved.

“I’m going to do a couple of nice, wide circles with my hand to stretch out those muscles one last time, and as I do, I’d like you to take some nice, deep, easy breaths with me. Once we get  to five nice big breaths, I’ll slowly remove my hand. Does this sound good?”

“Yuh-huh,” you nod.

“Nice big inhale,” Ezra reminds you, and you dutifully suck in a deep, cleansing breath of air as you feel his hand circle around your vaginal walls, pressing deep into the muscle as he does. You repeat the action four more times, and on your very last exhale, the light feeling of pressure within you finally abates as his fingers slip out of you. 

“How do you feel?”

“Pretty relaxed,” you say with a relieved laugh.

“Mentally?” he prods.

“I dunno, fine,” you shrug.

“Any feelings of vulnerability are normal,” he says as he stands from his stool and helps you guide your legs out of the stirrups and back onto the table under the sheet. “You may find that these feelings may be delayed by a few days, even, so be gentle with yourself for the next week or so. Light muscle soreness is also normal, in the same way it can occur after a normal massage. If at any time this light soreness transforms into pain, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

Ezra picks up your consent form again and scans it briefly before setting it back down and giving you a serious, thoughtful look. “You told me three weeks ago that you were ‘built wrong,’ and you mention several times in your form that you have difficulty bringing yourself to orgasm. Little sprite, I have lost count of the number of clients who have the same complaints and who have similarly insisted their bodies were simply different from ‘normal’ people’s. Now, mind you, the sample size may be biased, but from this data I can only conclude that no human being is ‘built wrong.’ The problem lies in our minds, and more specifically, in the social conditioning we’ve all received since birth–conditioning that in no way favors the female experience of pleasure. Society has failed you, has labeled your pleasure as secondary, illusive, impossible, or even imaginary. Your sessions with me will help to reverse the physical symptoms from a lifetime of unhelpful social conditioning, and now that you know your body is not only capable of experiencing pleasure, but of doing so in ways you weren’t even aware, your mind will follow.”

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck by how different you feel. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I’ll leave you to get dressed, little sprite,” Ezra says, briefly patting your hand in a comforting manner. “When you’re ready, go ahead and open the door and I’ll walk you to the lobby to schedule your next appointment.”

#ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #pedro pascal #prospect fanfiction

[littlenightma]

Warm Hands | Rusty Nail x Female!Reader | Part 2 (NSFW)

Author’s Note: Part 1

Tags: NSFW content, older man/younger woman, size difference, dubious consent, kidnapping, possessive behavior, Rusty is doting on reader, lots o’ smut.

The convenience store had long disappeared beyond the horizon miles back, but you still stared at the rear view mirror hoping it would somehow appear again or that you would wake up in your bed letting you know this was all just a bad dream.

The snow storm was worsening as time passed, layering the road with snow, ice, and dirt. He took his time driving and acted nonchalant to the fact that he kidnapped you as he occasionally fiddled with the radio when it lost signal.

Your grocery bag sat in your lap, teasing you of what your night could have been. Watching your favorite show while you lounged on couch, eating your snacks and watching as the snow fell peacefully outside.

Yeah, what could have been.

“What’s your name?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s Rusty. Rusty Nail.”

You visibly deflated. “I meant your real name.”

“That is my name.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a nickname. There’s a difference.”

Rusty shook his head, further cementing his previous statement. “I haven’t considered myself that name in years. Everyone knows me as Rusty and that’s what you’ll call me too.”

“Don’t you want to know my name at least?”

His eyes twinkled amusingly. “I already what your name is, [Y/N].”

Your mouth parted in confusion. “Wait — how do you know that?”

Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached into his jacket and pulled out your wallet, offering it back to you. His voice and face teamed up to convey their disapproval and you felt like a child being chastised by their parent for being caught sneaking out at night.

“This fell when you tried running away from me.”

You took your wallet and examined it in disdain. You never realized it fell nor that he picked it up. So now he knew not just your name, but also where you lived. Great. You stuffed it into your own jacket roughly, punishing it for making your situation worse.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Home. It’s not too much further.”

You drew your eyebrows together. “You’re taking me to your home?”

He glanced at you then back to the road. “Where did you think I was taking you?”

You shrugged, mumbling quietly. “I don’t know, some cheap motel or something...”

He sighed heavily through his nose, chest rising and falling with confliction. He then rubbed his chin in thought before finally settling on what to say.

“Well, I ain't, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

You scuffed at his absurd logic. “Yeah, like that’s what I’m worried about.”

Stop calling me pretty.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No, but I know I won’t change your mind either.”

“You could let me go.”

His answer was quick and final. “No.”

You shook your bag in aggravation, crumbling the snacks inside. “Why not? Can’t you find someone else to fuck?”

He raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning glance. “Who said anything about fucking you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. His head had to be screwed on too tight or maybe he was smoking more than just a nicotine cigarette.

“You! Back at the store you said you wanted company for the night. What else is that supposed to mean? I sure as hell know you’re not taking me home to chat about this lovely weather we’re having.”

He chuckled low, long fingers gliding across the steering wheel as he turned it. Those same fingers flexed away from the wheel before going back to gripping it until his knuckles turned white. His voice noticeably deepened in timbre, exacerbated with desire as he spoke.

“I have every intention on getting you in my bed tonight, but it isn’t to fuck you like some lot lizard I found slinking in the streets. Oh no, little one, I’m gonna be to taking my sweet time with you and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.”

In that moment, the truck passed another car who was going just as slow and careful. Their headlights brightened the tenebrous truck and in their hazy glow, Rusty’s blue eyes caught yours. They threatened you with a dark seductiveness and a dangerous allure and had Rusty not kept on driving you would have thought he was getting ready to pounce you right there.

You found yourself struck silent, dumbfounded and uneasy. You wordlessly turned back in your seat and watched as snowflakes hit the glass pane of your window. His words played back in your mind over and over again like it was an old VCR player and somebody was constantly pressing replay.

From his side of the truck, Rusty’s resistance was waning as time passed into the drive and the more he sensed your rising turmoil. He wanted to pull the truck over to the curb and spread you wide over his seats so he could quell your worries.

He had no intention of bringing home any woman when he stopped by the local shop to get a working lighter and a pack of cigarettes. After being on the road for months on end, he was ready to call it quits for a while, get some chores done around the house he’d been putting off and rest up while he had the chance to.

Funny how plans could change in a blink of an eye.

He swore he stood witness to an angel dashing through those sliding doors bearing a halo of snow and a mischievous smile highlighting your pink champagne lips. He smelled your shampoo when you whipped by briskly not sparing him a glance. He peered curiously over the shelves and watched you peruse the store in determination. He figured you were after something important like bread or milk or even a flashlight, but when you came around the corner carrying an accomplished grin and an arm full of sweets, he grinned himself.

Cute little thing.

He thought nothing more you after that, still intending to get his smokes and lighter and head home, but whether by accident or fate, his hand brushed yours when he passed you and it all hit him at once; your soft skin, your slight intake of breath, your timorous glance and just like that you had drawn him in. Rusty was enamored and he wanted nothing more than for you to follow him because between the few steps he took between you and the door, he decided he wasn’t going home alone tonight.

He waited patiently in his truck for you, cock already half-erect and painful from the delicious images in his head. He lit a cigarette and adjusted himself. Inclining his head back, he blew a few rings of smoke up into the air. His bed had been feeling mighty cold lately the thought of you warming it sounded too good too pass up. He looked out the window and saw you walking closer, eyeing his truck with apprehension.

Come to me, pretty girl. Just a little closer now.

He rolled the window down.

~ ~ ~ ~

“She ain’t much, but she’s home.”

He pulled the truck up a long and winding dirt road until a two-story, white farm house came into view. It looked run down and unkept, but it was a lot better than the dungeon you had pictured in your mind on the way there.

He got out of the truck and came around to your side. He unlocked your door with a key he took from his pocket and offered you a hand. You eyed it with uncertainty and glanced behind his raised arm into the vast darkness where the crystalline snow morphed into the black of night. You contemplated whether or not you should make a run for it.

“I know these mountains like the back of my hand. You’d never make it out of them before I or the animals get you and that’s only if you don’t freeze to death first. But—” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “—If you’re that set on leaving then I won’t stop you.”

The chilly night air brushed against the back of your neck threateningly. You pressed your lips together. He was right. Running away would be a death sentence. What made it even worse was that you knew he knew you wouldn’t actually run so him giving you an opportunity to was his way of showing you who was actually in control and it was working. Begrudgingly, you placed a hand in his. He squeezed it, giving you a gruntled look.

“Good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The people pleaser in you delighted in the praise even though it came from Rusty. He led you up the walkway still holding your hand. You didn’t understand why since it should have been clear that you weren’t going to run, but when when you almost slipped on a nasty patch of ice, he steadied you with his strong grip and his refusal to drop your hand became perfectly clear; he was making sure you didn’t fall and hurt yourself.

The inside of his house was interesting to say the least as it looked pretty much abandoned. Cobwebs hung in intricate designs from the ceiling fan and the hardwood floor had long lost its shine due to the several years worth dirt and dust doing their best to speed up the aging process. Various things were stacked into high piles in the corners of the room while others were haphazardly thrown about, forgotten and unused. The house appeared more like a storage unit than an actual home.

Rusty went and turned on a few lamps and the heating system, warming the house both in light and temperature. He came around and took off your coat and laid it on the back of the couch along with his two which left him in a green, button up flannel and a brown t-shirt. He was more well-built than you’d expected and when he bent down to pick up one of his coats that fell to the floor, his arm muscles flexed and you were intimidated by how dramatically they bulged.

He could really hurt me if he wanted to…

Curiosity got the best of you as you wandered the house. You were in awe with how much stuff there was to look at and for a couple of minutes your mind forgot why you were brought here in the first place as you glided your fingers across the different things you came across. Rusty trailed a few feet behind you. He kept quiet, letting you do your own thinking. He found himself growing more self conscious about the state of his house and hoped you didn’t find it too much of a wreck.

“You don’t really spend a lot of time here, do you?”

Rusty shook his head, a hint of regret in his voice. “No, not really. My job requires me to be on the road most of the time so everything in here just sits collecting dust for the most part. Could always use a women’s touch I suppose.”

“You mean to clean?”

Rusty grimaced when he realized how his comment came across and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

You laughed softly. “I know what you meant. Maybe you’ll find someone who will add some life to this place.”

His gaze settled on you, unwavering and penetrating. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You turned away from his unspoken insinuation and met a set of stairs leading you up to what had to be his bedroom. It was the only room you hadn’t encountered yet. No longer feeling up to exploring you tried turning back, but Rusty stopped you short.

“You still have one more room left to see.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to see it.”

He leaned in his closer as if to share a secret. His lips scraped your ear, traveling up to your temple, right above your eye where he pressed a kiss there. The small, loving gesture quelled your consternation, but a thick, foreboding cloud of doubt still lingered because the kiss held an implying promise of what was yet to come. You pressed your face into his chest seeking comfort and he rubbed your back a few times before he turned you around to face the stairs.

“Stairway to heaven, sweetheart. Up you go.”

He lightly swatted your backside causing you to yelp. You felt his chest move as he chuckled and pushed you forward. With your head bowed defeatedly, you trudged up the steps. Rusty couldn’t help but appreciate the sway of your hips and how tight your jeans were.

Entering the bedroom, he slid past you, catching one of your belt loops with his finger. He tugged you with him to the bed where he sat on the edge of it, pulling you between his knees. You wrapped your arms around yourself and waited for his direction. You felt out of place and worried that if you didn’t do good enough that it would cause him to become angry and lash out at you. Without dropping your gaze, he unbuttoned his flannel and peeled it off before lifting the brown t-shirt over his head, taking his hat with it. He threw the clothes and hat, well, you didn’t know where he threw them because you were too busy being mesmerized by his chest.

His chest was a chest belonging to a laborer, well muscled and broad. The temptation to touch him was hard to resist and before you knew it, you were exploring it like much like you did his house, running your fingers through the sparse salt and pepper hair. He radiated warmth like a cup of freshly poured coffee that you couldn’t wait to wrap your hands around and enjoy.

As you marveled his body, the next words tumbled out before you could stop them. “You’re really handsome, Rusty. Like one of those greek sculptures.”

The astonished look on his usual stoic face made you regret your words. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. Embarrassed, you dropped your hands and whispered an apology. Rusty was quick to mend things.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, darlin.’ I just ain’t used to receiving compliments is all.” He grabbed your hands and placed them back on his shoulders and smiled gently. “Will you keep going for me?”

Instead of going back down his chest, you chose to run your hands up the back of his neck to his head. Rusty sat with his hands on your hips, enjoying the attention you were giving him. He closed his eyes when your nails scraped his scalp and groaned loudly.

“Fuck, baby. That feels nice.”

Without his eyes on you, you felt more comfortable to do your own thing and in a spur of confidence, you peeled your shirt off and unhooked your bra. Rusty opened his eyes questioningly and instantly locked onto your breasts that were bobbing teasingly a few inches away. His mouth parted and without a warning he latched onto a nipple and began sucking. His tongue swirled around it, hardening it until it was ripe, and he let it go to do the same to the other one.

Your head leaned back while your chest leaned forward into his mouth. One of your hands cradled the back of his head while the other raked through his long hair, pushing it back from his face so he could suck without interruption. You both groaned in unison from the reciprocating pleasure.

With your hands still lost in his hair, he roamed his own over your stomach, appreciating how perfect and healthy you looked. He wanted to mark you somehow. He wanted you remember this night long after it’s over, like a blood stain that refused to lift.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and hurled you onto your back on the bed. The old springs squealed beneath the toppling weight of you and Rusty. He loomed over you on all fours like a predator ready to ravage its prey. You felt the vibration of your zipper being pulled down against your pussy and it sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. Sliding his hands beneath you, he coaxed you up.

“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

Maybe it was his deep southern drawl or the way he naturally exuded power and dominance that compelled you to obey without question because as soon as he commanded you to, your hips were in the air. He pulled your jeans down until they were mid-thigh and from there he slipped your off your shoes and socks before sliding the jeans the rest of the way. So now you lay in his bed with nothing but a pair of panties and you couldn’t have been more nervous for them to be stripped away too.

You were a perfect balance between shy and tempting. You crossed your legs attempting to hide from his lecherous gaze, but it was fruitless. Rusty had already mesmerized your beautiful body and all its curves and bends. He grabbed the plush muscle of your thighs, kneading it like dough. His eyes asked for permission to go further, to finally touch you where he desperately wanted to. You sucked in a breath and nodded, looking up at him with so much trust. It warmed Rusty up better than any blazing fire ever could.

You’re safe with me, little one. You’ll always be safe with me.

He peeled your underwear down slowly. His eyes never rose until they were completely gone, tossing them aside like everything else. The air swept across your bareness and you knew there was no going back now. When he did finally look, he made a noise low in his throat and his eyes darkened to a deeper shade. Your pussy was already glistening for him. He pushed your knee with a heavy palm, prompting you to spread yourself.

His lecherous stare on any other man would have repulsed you, but on him it only made the butterflies in your stomach flutter eagerly. Gradually, like the first drifts of snow falling from a cliff before the start of an avalanche, the heavy walls you had built finally collapsed and you shuddered happily.

He playfully rubbed his chin on your thigh. The stubble from his jaw tickled your skin and you reacted in a fit of giggles. Rusty visibly lit up at the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard laughter in his house. He did it again, eyes focused on you. He earned another laugh and loved the smile you tried preventing from spreading. You lurched forward and pushed his face away.

“Hey, stop that! It tickles!”

He smirked, feigning innocence. “Stop what?”

Your eyes narrowed. “You know what.”

“Let me just go down lower then…”

His full lips kissed your thighs, going further until they hovered over your folds. Your breath hitched when his hot breath warmed your pussy. He was so close, yet so far away. It was delicious torture. When you lifted your hips up to his mouth, he abruptly pulled away. You noisily voiced your dissatisfaction.

“Want do you want, baby? Use your words. I ain’t no mind reader.”

You lifted your hips again, begging helplessly. “Rusty.”

“Rusty what? What do you want me to do?”

“I want your mouth on me. Make me come, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He used two fingers to spread your lips open and latched onto your clit without mercy. A guttural sound echoed in the room and your eyes widened when you realized it didn’t come from Rusty, but from you. This spurred Rusty on and he sucked your sensitive clit so good that you thought the roof was caving in as your eyes rolled back into your skull. You tangled your hands into his hair, using his face as a make shift saddle and his curls as the reins.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised adoringly between licks. “Make me put my mouth exactly where you want it.”

You tugged his hair and pushed him down in a particular spot that had you shaking and weeping because his stubbled chin rubbed your aching pussy in all the right and wrong ways. Soon you felt yourself drawing close to your release and you grinded fiercely on his face in anticipation.

“Rusty—” you gasped, back arching, “I’m going to cum. Don’t stop!”

You could bring any man to his knees by begging like that and you surely brought him to his. There was nothing Rusty wouldn’t have done for you in that moment if it meant hearing that sweet voice of yours crying out to him in ecstasy.

“Fill my mouth, little one,” he growled, reclaiming your pussy with an animalistic ferocity, hungrily eating you out with his entire face buried between your legs so that only the back of his head could be seen.

Like the good girl you were, you did exactly as you were told. Your ribs expanded from the gasp, head reeling back as your orgasm shook you. Rusty never stopped thrusting his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum. He swiftly pulled you forward so could he drive his tongue further and as expertly as he drove his truck. From his position on his knees, he watched you writhe and squirm, unable to keep still from the intense pleasure that overwhelmed you.

Your thighs locked around his head and covered his ears, muffling your loud moans. Rusty licked everywhere, from the inside of your thighs to the very inner workings of your spasming pussy as if he was a starving man who refused to be wasteful. With a final swipe of his long tongue, Rusty had you cleaned up good. He then placed a satisfied kiss on your pussy before straightening himself.

“How you feeling?”

“I…I need a minute,” you said between breaths. “It’s never felt like that before.”

He kissed your shoulder, purring reassuringly. “Take all the time you need, darlin’. There’s no rush.”

Comforted by his words, you laid back leisurely on his pillows, still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm. Rusty laid beside you, running his hands over you soothingly. The lamp on his bedside table casted a tangerine glow on your body and it suited your flushed face perfectly.

A few hours ago you wanted nothing to do with Rusty or his hands. But now your eyes followed their every move, seeking them out when he raised them away then relaxing when he brought them back down again.

His movements casted a soporific effect on you, and soon your eyes began to flutter close and your breathing slowed down to an even rhythm. Your body sank deeper into the mattress as the tension left your body and to Rusty it only confirmed to him that he had an angel sleeping in his bed.

Rusty bent down and kissed the valley between your breasts, easing you back awake. “Don’t give out on me yet, pretty girl. We’re just getting started.”

#rusty nail #rusty nail x reader #slasher community #joy ride 2: dead ahead (2008) #joy ride 2 #mark gibbon #original writing #slasher x reader #slashers

[poursomesunaonme]

taste you still !

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: you've been the o'hara's babysitter for quite some time; miguel thinks it's time for a raise!

wc: 4k

a/n: i have nothing to say for myself - i wrote this in two hours off two glasses of wine LMAO

cw: minors dni (pls have ur age in ur bio)!, age gap (reader is in college), drinking (clear for consent tho), pet names (sweetheart, bunny, conejita, little girl), doggy, oral (fem and male receiving), handjob, 69, biting, edging, scratching, size kink, overstim, nipple play, squirting, modified missionary, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare!

the tv flickers idly across the room as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt.  gabriella had been asleep for a few hours.  glancing at your phone, you find it’s just past midnight.  it’s a warm, friday summer night.  a soft drizzle begins to come down outside.

classes just finished for the summer.  if it had been any other friday, you’d be out at bars tearing it up with your friends.  however, the single dad you nanny for called you in last minute.  you didn’t mind.

the moist rainy air from the outside defeats the advances of the air conditioner, and it’s beginning to get hot in the living room where you sit.  you’re thankful for wearing light clothes, as it helps with the heat beginning to settle. the warmth and the sound of the rain to help your body settle, and you begin to doze off.

you jump as the lock clicks, signaling the return of your employer.  you clear your throat and check your phone before putting it down, acting like you were watching whatever animal documentary was on the tv.  

2:26am had blinked across your screen.  the father enters the house with a quiet sigh, locking the door behind him.

“hi, mr. o’hara,” you say lightly as he hangs his coat and shakes his umbrella before putting it in a plastic bag to dry off.

“hey, sweetheart,” he says, trying to keep the noise down to keep from waking his daughter as he kicks off his shoes, too tired to care if they land strewn across the floor.

“how was your night?” 

“i need a drink.” he chuckles, his footsteps receding into the kitchen to assuage his desire.  “do you want one?”

he had never offered you a drink before.  of course, you’re of age - it was just uncommon, given your position in his family.  

“i, uh…” you stumble over your words.  “sure.  please.  it’s been a long day.”

“i hope gabriella didn’t give you much trouble.”  the crackling sound of ice breaking under an expensive scotch drifts from the kitchen.

“no, she was great.  she just… she missed you.”

the words unspoken scream that you did as well, but you ignore them.  it was delusional to think of him that way, but you couldn’t help yourself for that split second.  it was rare to spend more than ten minutes with him when you helped him out with nannying - there was no reason for you to feel such an emotion.

“yeah… i missed her too.”

some underlying meaning laces his choice of words.  the sound of his footsteps alert you to his presence before he reaches over the couch from behind you to offer you the glass.  you jump slightly, but accept it.  he sits heavily next to you, the couch creaking under his sudden weight.  you both take a heavy sip of the drink.  it slightly burns your throat, but you manage to choke it down anyway.

you’re aware of his identity, as it was necessary to be privy to such matters when taking care of his daughter.  you had detailed protocols to follow in case of such emergencies and the like, but that didn’t mean that you would ask about his mission.  you assumed the subject was off limits, and that strategy kept you in good graces with the man.  instead, he asks you about how the end of your school was, if there was any issue in securing an apartment for the next semester, mundane things and the like.

you answer all of his questions politely.  as much as you want to inquire about his missions, you refrain from doing so. he finishes his drink in no time, asking if you’d like another.  you eye your drink then finish the whole thing, handing the empty glass back to him.

you swear he mutters “good girl” under his breath.  it makes your stomach churn in a way you could have never imagined.

when he sits next to you with the drinks refreshed, it’s much closer.  you feel the heat radiating off his body.  the alcohol begins to course through your veins, and you can’t control the way your body easily gravitates toward him.  you struggle against the muffling feeling, struggle to keep control of your body that so badly wants to be pressed against his.

“oh, did i make a mistake?” he murmurs when he notices your proximity.  “want me to order you an uber?”

“no, no, mr. o’hara.” you shake off his offer.  “i’m okay.  thank you though.”

he pauses, swishing the alcohol in the glass before downing it swiftly.  “in that case, i’m gonna go shower.  you can leave if you’d like, or you can strip down naked and wait for me in bed.”

so i can finally fucking ravage you is the ending that he wishes to add, but he doesn’t want to scare you.

you’re taking a sip as he speaks, nearly spitting your drink out at his proposition.  however, you keep your composure and say nothing as he finishes his drink in one swift gulp and gets up from the couch, leaving a shivering feeling through your skin.

the second he leaves earshot, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

you’re fucked.

it’s like he knows the way you look at him in those minute moments when he leaves and returns from work. it’s like he knows that you continuously brag to your friends about how handsome he was.  it’s like he knows that you’ve said countless times that you’d jump him if you were ever given the chance.

but that was all just a silly little crush.  you never imagined that he would actually give you the opportunity.

he’d made you an offer you’d be downright stupid to refuse.

which is how you end up splayed in his bed, the cool air of the bedroom chilling your skin.  it was the obvious choice.  your chest rises and falls with anticipation.  the hopes of the man following through with his lewd offer brings on an ever-quickening heart rate.  you adjust your position again and again, hoping that each following pose will please him more than the last and help assuage the nervous feeling gnawing in your gut.

just as you chose the simple option to lay back against the pillows with your legs folded delicately together to one side, the shower turns off.  miguel doesn’t even bother drying off before he emerges from the bathroom in a dramatic billow of steam, wet gray-streaked hair tumbling into his face.  small droplets of water roll off his naked body and splatter against the floor.  the musky scent of his body wash hits your nose.  it makes you dizzy.  combined with the sight of him and the heavy alcohol rushing through your bloodstream, you’re completely susceptible to whatever plans he has in store.  you lose your breath at the sight of his tan, toned body approaching you.

“get on your hands and knees.”  the way he commands you is almost a detached sigh.  you don’t hesitate to obey, however.  without thinking, you get up from the position to poise yourself at the end of the bed in the way he ordered.  your heart speeds up, pounding against your ribcage.  this position already?  skipping to the main event?  you aren’t complaining, just surprised.

that feeling of surprise continues when you hear his knees heavily drop to the floor and his hands cup the globes of your ass and spread them apart.  the cold air hits that warm center and you gasp.  you gasp because the feeling is surprising and his lips press between your folds and you gasp because he groans so deeply at the first taste of you.

you’re fucked.

he takes no time to begin diving into every inch of your cunt.  you clutch at the bedsheets, wincing at the cold droplets from his hair running down the back of your thighs.

“mr… mr. miguel.”  you squeak, unable to muster up the brainpower to say anything else.  he works like it’s necessary for him to keep breathing, like he can’t wait to do anything else, like he’s starving, and you’re the first meal he’s come across in days.  

“is this okay?”  he finally pulls back, drawing a gasp from your lips at the cold air hitting that warm place again.  “just can’t… fuck… hold myself back.”

you make the mistake of craning your neck to meet his eyes at his panting candor.  his face just barely hovers above your ass, hands still spreading you apart.  you gulp at the sight of the shimmer of your essence on his lips.  he pants heavily, broad shoulders heaving with the force of his breath.  his eyes are gleaming, his pupils blown out with lust.  he looks fucking crazy, hair tumbling into his face.

you can feel your face heat up at the sight of him, feel your expression fall as you acknowledge again and again and again: you’re fucked.

a nod is all you can manage to urge him to continue.  you turn around and focus on the shiny silk pillows to ground yourself, bracing for the impact.

he merely grunts and dives back between your legs, splattering the last few drops remaining from his dewy skin onto you.  it takes everything in you not to collapse when he begins working with an increased fervor.  apparently, your words gave him great encouragement, as he intensified the movements, even daring to remove his lips from your folds to plant heavy, open-mouthed kisses on the backs of your thighs - and even daring to nip at the sensitive skin. 

before you know it, you sink down into the comforter, fingers whitening in a death grip on the sheets for support.  miguel doesn’t seem to notice - he’s too lost in the feeling of the increasing warmth on his tongue, of the blood rushing to where your body deems it to be.

just as you’re about to finish, he pulls back.  it draws a whimper from you, but before you can utter a word of complaint, he straightens up and begins to rub his length between the sticky wetness that welcomes him.  you whimper at the feeling, pushing your hips back against him as an invitation inside.  he wastes no time in accepting, pushing into you once he’s amply coated. 

your eyes bulge out of your head and you cry out a stilted moan as he doesn’t stop - not until he’s fully sheathed in you.  you sink down fully into the mattress, only supported by his hands when they grasp your waist to hold your lower body upright.  the beginnings of claws begin to poke into the meat of your hips.  overwhelming feelings circulate through every part of your body.  your mind begins to fog over.  you can’t differentiate the feeling from the alcohol or the pleasure; they work in tandem.

he doesn’t waist time to begin thrusting into you, more surely than he’s done anything in his life.  the rhythm is slow, but deep, and it drives you over the edge in no time.  since he left you hanging from the ministrations of his mouth, the movements of his length deep within you shove you over the precipice of pleasure.

“miguel… please, don’t stop.”  you whimper.  your eyes roll into the back of your head and you feel a great weight press into your back.  his lips appear on the shell of your ear.

“don’t hold back for me, bunny,” is the whisper.  “let go.”

you do as you're told, whimpers muffled against the mattress as you give into the pleasure, squeezing and convulsing around his length.  he licks behind your ear before nibbling on the lobe, drawing an extended moan that takes your breath away.  you can’t muster up any words - no praise, no thanks.  just incoherent sounds that express the feelings that you can’t articulate with the onslaught of pressure.

"mi conejita..."

miguel continues to rut into you like a wild animal.  his body presses flush against your back as his hips move, only going deeper and deeper as he jerks them back and forth.  there’s no relief, no breaks you get from his demanding size, from his desire to puncture you deeper and deeper until he finds his own sense of relief.

just as you finish, you think there will be a moment in the trembling of your legs that miguel will spare you.  however, you’re wrong.  the feeling of you constricting around him ignites a new passion in him, one that results in his lips meeting your neck, your shoulders, your back - one that draws his teeth into your skin.

a gasp escapes at the feeling of him nibbling on that sensitive skin, of the feeling of his hips continuing to mercilessly ram into yours.  you don’t want him to stop.  your hands clutch as the sheets, begging for some stability from the bed, but it doesn’t come.

instead, miguel’s hands wrap around your chest to pull you up as he straightens up.  his grip tigthens as you settle pressed against his sweating, heavily chest.  when you’re secured, his hands begin to move.  first and foremost, they grab your chin to face him and without hesitation, his lips crash against yours.  his fingers squeeze your jaw to pry it open and his tongue shoves down your throat.  you whimper against him.  he eats the sound whole.

his hands don’t stop once they leave your chin, trusting that your lips won’t leave his.  they reach down to pinch and pull your nipples, wander down to rub slow circles into your poor overstimulated clit.  the sound of his hips slapping against your raw skin is overwhelming, you can’t help but lean back into his chest for support, his tongue still craving the inside of your mouth.  he grunts in surprise when you start to suck his tongue desperately.  the sound simmers in his chest as he chuckles.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, little girl.”

you find yourself smiling, find yourself squeezing him as he moves inside, threatening to tear your insides apart.

“fuck,” he moans into your mouth.  “christ, you’re tight.”

you moan and whine into his mouth, and he devours those sounds as well.  the vibrations only spur him forward, only egg him on to continue ramming his hips into your body.  his fingers rub unceasingly against your increasingly sensitive clit.

“i’m gonna-” you manage to slur around his overpowering tongue and teeth.  “i’m gonna cum again.”

he groans, lowly and long.  it’s a lewd sound, one that sends all the heat from your body straight down between your legs.  it’s an encouragement, one that sends you over the edge within a split second.  you moan, legs shaking as you begin to collapse onto the bed again.  you can’t help the weakness, can’t help the fact that your legs turn to jelly as he rams into you with want and need that you can’t even begin to fathom.

you squeal as a fresh spurt of juices flow from your cunt, flow around his length, and down your inner thighs.

he swears again at the sensation of liquid beginning to run down his length, trickling down his own legs.  “shit… shit… i-i need that.  i need you to do that again.”

he pants and pulls out.  you gasp at the empty feeling, but he doesn’t give you much time to process it fully before he lays down on the bed and snatches your waist, pulling you over to align your hips with his face.  before you can utter a word of objection or acceptance, he yanks you into his face, burying himself in the warm grave of your cunt.

you throw your head back and moan weakly, tired and overstimulated from the last orgasms, but he doesn’t stop.  his ministrations are unyielding, even when you plant your hands against his hips to steady yourself.  his hard length stands in front of you, just barely out of reach of your mouth.  you can’t help yourself from drooling at the sight, of precum spilling from the tip and mixing with your juices that still dribble down the veins.

you try to move forward, but he pulls your hips back stubbornly, shoving his tongue into you.  you whimper, opting you reach your hand out to wrap around and pump his length until you can get your mouth on the impressive sight.  he slows as he realizes what you want to do.  he knows how much bigger he is than you.  he slides up the pillows to sit up, closing the distance between you and your prize until your lips suckle on the tip, drawing a hiss from him.  as if an attempt to silence the sound, his teeth sink into your asscheck.

“fuck,” you groan as the teethmarks in your skin join the bitemarks he left on your neck, back, and shoulders, still fresh and throbbing.  you attempt to shake off the feeling and start to bob your mouth up and down on his length, drooling over the musky taste of his precum when your tongue trails down the base, every vein drawn like a map under your tongue.

he doesn’t let you indulge yourself for long before he jerks your hips back against his face once more, drawing your mouth from his length with a soft pop.  you moan in indignation, attempting to lunge back to continue your work.  however, miguel’s grip on your hips, the nails beginning to dig in the muscles, successfully stops you.

instead, you pump down his shaft, hoping that you’re pleasing him as much as he’s pleasing you.  another wave of pleasure rolls over you, and you can’t help but whine at the vibration of miguel’s moans as he gulps down the juices that flow heartily from your center.  his dick twitches in your palm.

“please…” you whimper.  “please fuck me… please…”

“no” is the simple answer.  “you’re cumming on my face, mi conejita.” 

your cheeks heat at his unashamed lewdness, at how he so easily expresses his desire for you.  how long had he been feeling his way?  how long had he wanted to ravish you like this?  he seems so resigned to his desires that he just can’t help himself anymore.

he gets his wish soon enough, pulling you so far onto him that his nose dips into your entrance, triggering an explosion of pleasure within you.  he groans as your legs begin to shake around his face, as you give up on pumping his shaft because you can’t focus on anything else but not losing your mind at how good he makes you feel. 

miguel doesn’t give you a reprieve in his agenda, slapping your ass twice to signal a position change before you can even catch your breath.

“get up,” he growls, and you obey.  he pushes you down on the bed in his place - the pillows are still warm from where he sat, still damp from the juices running freely down his face and jawline to soak the sheets.  without hesitation, he grips your calves and throws them over his shoulders.  you’re completely powerless underneath him when he pushes into you fully, not waiting a split second to begin ramming into you, even deeper than before.

it’s nearly unbearable, especially when he grabs your wrists, crosses them with a single hand, and holds them over your head before his lips crash onto yours.  your moans pour into his mouth, and he takes them without a second thought, returning them with equal fervor.  each pound of his hips forces water droplets from his damp hair onto your shaking body.  the way he presses down into you, the way the weight of him presses your thighs against your chest, the stretch aching, the opening angle of your hips for him to ram deeper into your warmth… it’s too much.

tears bead at the corners of your eyes when you open them to find him watching your face, even as he’s shoving his tongue down your throat.  you feel the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile at the sight of you so weak with want, with desire.  he looks fucking feral.

he pulls back, watching your reaction as he turns his head to press sloppy kisses to your calves, nipping at the skin.  welting bumps appear under his mouth, like he’s decorating you in just the fashion he likes.  when he’s finished, his lips crash onto yours again.  he doesn’t stop, doesn’t show mercy, not even when you’re babbling for him to continue, to push you over the edge once more.

“i gotta…” he pants, finally drawing back from your lips to examine your whole body shaking against the rough motion of his hips bulldozing into you.  a single line of spit still joins your lips.  “i gotta taste you still… fuck.”

he thinks for a moment before his fingers dive between your folds, gathering an ample amount of essence before he raises them to your mouth, spreading the liquid across your lips.  you can barely function at the lewd sight, even when he presses his fingers into your mouth, leading your tongue to swish around them and lap up every last drop.  his face contorts when your lips close around his digits, sucking his digits dry.

his mouth crashes against yours, exploring every bud in your mouth with renewed fervor at the flavor of your cunt all throughout your mouth.  you realize he had let go of your hands and you use the freedom to latch your nails into his back, clawing it to ribbons.  he thrusts into you with refreshing vigor, spurred by the satisfaction of your taste, at your nails sinking into his skin, and the warm, pulsing feeling of your cunt around his length at the same time.  he doesn’t last long, doesn’t make it much more time before he moans and whimpers into your mouth, warm cum spilling into you.  he removes his mouth from your kiss bitten lips and opts to bite into your neck, so hard you’re afraid you’ll bleed - but it’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge with him.  but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s groaning against you, fucking the last bit of himself into you, slowing his hips more and more.

when he’s finally finished, you squeeze your arms around him, removing your nails from his skin, welcoming him an embrace for him to collapse into.  he accepts the invitation graciously, his full weight pressing upon you as your legs fall from their position on either side of his hips.

he sighs into your neck, into the satisfying feeling of his cum beginning to ooze from your warmth, down your ass, spilling onto the bed.  there’s a few moments of wordlessness, the only sound echoing the room is breathless panting.

“well, consider this payment for watching gabi tonight?”

you laugh at his offhanded comment that breaks the silence and press a kiss onto his heaving shoulders.

“no, i’m still expecting the same rate.”

“in this economy?  times are changing, sweetheart.”  he raises his head to meet your eyes as you laugh.  “i hear this is the new salary.  don’t tell me you’re that opposed.”

“i’m not… of course not.”  you laugh nervously.  he chuckles at the sight of you getting so flustered.  he swiftly rises, pulling out of you so fast that you barely have time to process it before he gets warm rags and towels from the bathroom.

he comes back and kisses your forehead gently, wiping the residue of the wild night from your body.  it’s a tender gesture, one that you didn’t expect from the rugged creature.  however, it’s not unwelcome.

“well, if you’d like to stick with me, i’m sure there will be some benefits in the future, if you’re willing to stay on.”  he pauses and grins.  “and it’ll be nice to have you here in bed in case i get called out in the middle of the night. you always sound so pissed at me when i call to wake you up.”  

he dries off your wet skin with a towel before letting all of the material fall to the ground, forgotten.  his body curls around you, the overwhelming size and warmth of him surrounding you.

you smirk, letting out a giggle at the continuation of the joke, heat pooling in your cheeks from the easy closeness he pursues with you.  “of course, mr. o’hara.  i don’t think anyone else could match such a wonderful deal.”

divider by: @/ffffffaatality

@dilftaroooo come n get it !

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost. likes, comments & reblogs are always appreciated !

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #tw age gap #🪐beanie writes!

[sourpatchys]

My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life

Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)

This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun

He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him

He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.

This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore

I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing

He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.

Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)

I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)

He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves

He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind

He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.

He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.

I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.

He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy

If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better

He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time

He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.

He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid

He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.

When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)

He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.

He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)

He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)

Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have

He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.

He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear

This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside

You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find

Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.

The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real

Daryl is a secret star wars fan

He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing

He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)

He has a super dry sense of humor

If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.

One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick

He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky

During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla

He’s afraid of Santa Clause

And the Easter bunny

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it

He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)

He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”

He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.

He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.

The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening

He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion x reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl

[onceuponastory]

ball of fluff - bucky barnes

Plot: Bucky tells Y/N how he met Alpine. Pairing: BestFriends!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (but maybe there's something more there... 👀 it's me, of course there is) Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky's past as The Winter Soldier, and how we was used and controlled without his consent. Also includes mentions of how Bucky hates himself for what he did, and the nightmares he has. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: Hey, I finally finished a WIP, hahaha. And it's another episode of "this was supposed to be a drabble but it's over 1k words."

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Morning.” Y/N smiles, walking into the kitchen at Avengers HQ. The room is mostly empty, aside from Bucky. He lounges on the couch, scrolling through his phone and laughing to himself about something on the screen. When Y/N sits beside him, he murmurs a greeting before immediately going back to laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s just Alpine.” Bucky replies. “Look, I got him a new toy mouse a few days ago, and he’s already destroyed it.” He grins, holding out his phone to show her the picture. Y/N leans in, laughing when she sees the picture, especially the satisfied look on Alpine’s face. It’s nice, seeing Bucky laughing like this, sounding so happy. Although, it is a little weird.

Because Bucky looks so intimidating usually, the master of a death glare. And yet here he is, making cute cooing noises and laughing over pictures of his cat like a completely different person from what history and the news will tell you. But she likes this version of Bucky a lot.

Well, she likes everything to do with Bucky Barnes a lot. Like the way he always makes her heart skip a beat, or how she always has a lovesick smile on her face whenever she’s around him. She just can’t bring herself to tell him that though.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Y/N asks, her brow raised. “How did you find Alpine?” Bucky’s own brows furrow.

“You’re asking that like it’s a weird question.”

“I just mean, knowing you, I thought you found him on a mission somewhere and rescued him from an evil base, from some supervillain like in James Bond.” She chuckles. “Screw damsels in distress, you rescue cats in distress!” She grins.

“What is it you actually think I do?” Bucky raises a brow, yet can’t stop another grin from tugging at the corner of his mouth. A sight that makes Y/N’s smile grow just that little wider. God, she’s got it bad.

“You know, superhero stuff.” Y/N shrugs, and Bucky chuckles.

“Well, I may be a hero, but I found Alpine in a perfectly normal way.…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One year ago….

The room is filled with noise, and Bucky awkwardly fiddles with his gloves. He really should take them off at some point. New year, new him and all that. And, of course, being pardoned helps as well. That one might take a little longer, though. This task is small, and manageable. Although, when you have spent your entire life being used as a weapon and fighting space monsters on the regular, everything seems minor in comparison.

Right now though, it feels huge, like when they first faced down Thanos for the first time. Or when he came back to earth after being gone for five years and became a man out of time all over again. 

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” The voice of a staff member makes him jump slightly. He’s still not used to this, to being noticed and to being someone, to being Bucky Barnes, rather than a weapon used and controlled without his consent. Rather than The Winter Soldier.

To be honest, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be used to it. 

“Hi. I was thinking of getting a pet. I was thinking about a cat, but I’m open to anything, really.” Of course Bucky doesn’t tell him it’s because he’s so alone, and thinks he might lose his mind again if he’s alone any longer. The nights get so lonely sometimes, especially with as many nightmares that he has. Being alone with his thoughts, forced to confront what he did for so long every night, is his own personal hell. A punishment he wouldn’t wish on anyone. Maybe being responsible for another life, rather than taking it away, will be good for him.

That is, if he doesn’t fuck this up, too.

“Of course, sir.” The man smiles, beckoning for Bucky to follow, which he does. “We have plenty of cats available, from kittens to seniors. Do you have any specific breed in mind? Any age or gender?” 

All the questions make Bucky furrow his brows together. Choosing a cat seems to be harder than he thought. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to just walk in and for someone to just hand him a cat, but still. “Not really.” The staff member nods, smiling.

“That’s totally fine. You’re not the first who just wants to walk around. I’ll show you what we have, and we can go from there.”

Bucky looks at every variety of cat and kitten at the shelter. They’re all adorable, but none of them feel right, like his cat. Suddenly, he sees a little white ball of fluff curled up against the corner of a cage. They don’t even move when Bucky approaches. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“That’s Alpine.” Alpine looks up, looking for whoever came to see him. His blue eyes stare at Bucky for a moment, and he cocks his head to the left slightly before burying his face back into his fur. “Sorry, he’s really shy. We’re not sure if he likes people that much.” Bucky chuckles. Well, at least he sounds like him. Bucky doesn't like people that much either. Maybe this’ll be a good match after all. “Do you want to see some more cats?” The staff member asks, but Bucky keeps staring at Alpine, watching as his little head pops up again, checking to see if the stranger outside his cage has gone. 

“Hey there, buddy.” He whispers, smiling. He expects him to curl away from him again, but to his surprise, he takes a few steps forward towards him, tentatively sniffing the air, then Bucky’s gloved hand. Bucky chuckles, murmuring an “aww.” to himself as Alpine brushes his head against his fingers, nuzzling into them and purring. 

“Wow! He rarely does this. You must be special.” Yet the man’s voice fades out as Bucky and Alpine make eye contact. At Christmas time, Sam and his nephews showed him that movie The Grinch, where his heart grows three sizes after he discovers the true meaning of Christmas. Originally, Bucky wrote that off as cheesy nonsense, but now he feels it happening for real as he looks at this tiny little cat. He smiles. He’s perfect.

“I’ll take him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Brought him home about a week later, and the rest is history.” Bucky smiles.

“Oh. My. God.” Y/N gasps. “That’s so cute. Turns out you’re just a big softie deep down, huh, Buck?” She chuckles. Bucky flushes pink, and Y/N continues to grin. 

“Don’t say a word.” Bucky hisses, but Y/N keeps laughing and smiling. And despite how much he wants to keep it cool, and act like it’s not affecting him, Bucky can’t help but laugh. Because she’s right. Sometimes (more often than he’d like to admit) Bucky hangs onto his Winter Soldier persona, using it like a mask to hide behind. After all, it’s better than having to meet new people all the time, and to actually make relationships with people. People who could disappoint him, or leave him when things got too hard. Nobody would ever go near him if they thought he was still like that, still an asshole who would kill you if you looked the wrong way at him.

But with Y/N… he doesn’t want to hide himself anymore. She makes him the happiest he’s ever been in a long time, and brings out the best parts of him, the parts he thought were gone forever. Her laughter rings through the air, the sound the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and Bucky just can’t stop smiling. Y/N likes him for who he is, and despite how much he hates himself… Bucky loves the way she makes him feel. 

Well… he loves Y/N more than anything in the world. But she does make him feel pretty damn great.

“You know, Alpine sounds amazing. Maybe I’ll meet him one day.” She smiles. The thought makes Bucky’s heart grow even more, this time so big it could explode out of his chest. His two favourite people, the people he loves most in the world, meeting each other.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, smiling softly. “Maybe one day.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maybe we'll see reader meet Alpine..... 👀

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #fanfiction #fanfic

[yeollie-plz]

The Lovers: The Consummation

Knight! Pedro Pascal x Princess! Reader

The Main Series

Synopsis: The Princess and her husband's first night together.

Genre: Smut!!, fluff if you squint

Warnings: smut, 18+, Y/N insert, fantasy settings, fake marriage, contract marriage, age gap, male masturbation, groaning and moaning, innocent reader, slightly innocent Pedro, loss of virginity, p in v sex, unprotected sex (its ok they are married!), kissing, praise kink

Gif credits to owners!

A/N: This is a companion story to The Lovers, sort of a sneak peak to further chapters and their love story.

The princess laid awake in bed, tortured by what she had said earlier. It was one thing to confess your love to someone, but to confess your lust...that was a whole different story. It wasn't like she regretted it, it was more like she had wished it was a love confession first. She knew the way her husband felt about her and to dangle herself in front of him, well.

She pulled the sheets over her increasingly heating face, trying to hide from the world. After hours of trying to sleep to no avail, she wrestled with the idea of sneaking to apologize to her husband. But he wouldn't be awake, would he?

Deciding that one little knock wouldn't wake him, she pushed the covers off of her body. Donning her robe and slippers, the princess left the room and shuffled through the hallway to her husband's door.

Before she could bring herself to raise her hand and knock on the door, she heard groans from inside the room. For second she thought she was hearing things, but then another one came. There must be something wrong, maybe someone snuck into the castle and attacked him, she thought.

Without thinking she hurriedly pushed open the door to see no one in the room but her husband. Sat up in the large chair in the corner, his pants missing, and something in his hands. A look of shock on his face as he snapped his head up to see who interrupted him. When he noticed who the intruder was, his eyes glazed over with an indiscernible look.

"My dear, you've caught me at a very intimate time." He spoke, his hand didn't leave the object between his legs, but he did stop his movements.

"I just wanted to apologize for the way I spoke earlier. It was very inappropriate of me and-"

He let out another groan, stopping you mid speech.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this right now, your voice is about to put me over the edge." He said, a sort of pain underlying in his voice.

"Excuse me?" Put him over the edge? He thinks you are annoying.

"I didn't mean it like that, love. I just meant...can you shut the door and come closer?" You nodded and did as he asked. When you got closer to him the thing in his hand came fully into view. It was a part of him, another limb almost? What was it?

He saw you looking and answered your silent question, "This is my penis, did no one teach you about human anatomy or sex?"

You shook your head, no. He let out a shocked laugh.

"With the way you spoke to me earlier, I assumed you knew a little something."

"I know that sex is reserved for a married couple and it is an act to make a child." You said mater-of-factly. For some reason you felt you needed to prove yourself to him.

"It is the act to make a baby, yes. But, it is also an act of pleasure, an act of pure animalistic lust." You nodded slowly at his words.

"The reason I spoke the way I did earlier, was because I couldn't stand the way my body heats at the thought of you. I needed to tell you."

"I'm glad you did. I'm happy I make you feel the way you make me feel. It's called getting turned on and you telling me all those things got me turned on, so I was touching myself. Have you ever touched yourself?"

You shook your head, another no.

"Want me to show you how? It will help you relieve some of your 'heat'."

You nodded, this time a yes.

"Words darling, tell me what you want me to do to you."

"Want you to...to touch me. I'm burning." With the words of consent, he grabbed your hips and helped you to sit on his lap. His lips instantly latched onto your neck, kissing you slowly.

He made his way to your jaw, before kissing the edge of your mouth. Your face instinctively turned to attach your lips fully to his. He smirked into the kiss. The hands that were on your hips made their way lower, stroking your goose-bumped thighs.

He pushed your robe open so he could see more of you. Your nightdress was made of a thin silk and suddenly you were acutely aware of this fact. Your hardened nipples were on full display. He seemed to notice as well and smirked at this too.

"Oh, my love, if only you knew the things you do to me. The things I want to do to you. Fuck..." His eyes were still locked onto your nipples and you let out a gasp as his mouth was now on them. Soaking your nightdress with his spit as he sucked the buds. That was when you let out your first moan. Not knowing you could make that sound, let alone what it was, you covered your mouth in shock.

He noticed the moan as well and detached from your nipples, to look you in the eyes. He grabbed your hand and gently pulled it from your mouth. Kissing from your hand all the way up your arm to your shoulder.

"That was a good noise, it means you like what I'm doing to you. Please, never hide those."

You once again nodded. He pecked your lips before looking at the blushing, heated mess that you were on top of him. He ghosted his fingers on your stomach, very closely to where you really needed him to touch you. Before he abruptly stood up, lifting you by the hips to keep you locked onto him. He walked the two of you over to the bed and laid you onto it.

He hovered over you, you had never been more entranced by a man in your life before this moment. His tousled hair, his figure, the light beads of sweat just starting to form on his tan skin. He was art.

"You're beautiful." You gasped out.

He laughed, "i should be saying that to you, my dear." He began kissing you again, and if it was even possible there was even more intensity behind it. Each minute that went by you were getting hotter and hotter. You began to feel a wetness between your legs, you had only ever felt it when you watched Pedro spar once before.

"Pedro, I'm..." You trailed off not sure how to explain the situation.

"What? You're what? It's okay, tell me."

"I'm wet, down there." You motioned to between your legs, a different kind of blush forming.

"Oh, don't worry, that's normal. Just means I'm doing my job correctly."

"Oh, I see."

"Let me see if i can help you out down there." He moved his body down the bed so his head was now between your legs. He reached up your thigh and under the hem of your dress, pulling at your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked.

"Yes." You weren't sure if you going to say no to this man anymore tonight. This was it, you were putty in his hands.

He pulled your underwear down your legs and off of your body, tossing them to the ground. Grabbing the bottom of your nightdress he lifted it up so your mound was now fully visible to him. His fingers made contact with your sensitive clit, sending a shock wave through your body, another moan escaping out. This seemed to spur him on as his fingers began to fully work your bundle of nerves.

With every stroke of his finger, you would moan and writhe in pleasure, you never knew anything could feel like this. Something began to build, as you gasped out at the feeling.

"Wait, wait somethings happening."

He continued his motions, moving very deliberately. "It's okay, let go."

Finally something in you snapped and you saw white. Your legs shook uncontrollably, as your walls clenched around nothing. Pedro continued his motions, gradually slowing so you could work through the amazing pleasure you were feeling. As your breathing became steady, his fingers ceased their movement. He rose back up to look you in your eyes. A blissed out look covered your face as you tried to grapple with reality again.

"What was that?" You asked.

"That was an orgasm, that's what you can do to yourself when you're alone to make you feel good. Just use your fingers like I used mine. It's called masturbation."

"But it feels so good when you do it." You had let it slip without thinking.

He chuckled, "I'm glad, my love, next time I'll show you something even better. But right now, I wanted to see how you felt about making love?"

You eyes widened at the thought of full-on sex. You, obviously, and it scared you. You two were married, but still, its nerve wracking.

"I mean, we are married so it's what we are supposed to do, right?" You said.

"Yes, but I want to have sex with you because I want, no I need all of you. Not just because we are married, but because I love you." It wasn't the first time he had admitted that he loved you, but you never knew that love could make you want something this much.

"It's my first time so I'm just a bit nervous." You confirmed, not ready to say those three words yet. Both of you had gotten used to him saying it and you not saying it back.

"It's, uh, my first time too, actually." This shocked you, with how much he knew you had assumed he had, had sex before. Men weren't exactly held to the same standard as women were about saving themselves.

"I wanted to save myself for the women I married. The women I loved."

"How do you know so much then?" You questioned.

"The other knights talk a lot and loudly. They are very proud of their 'conquests'." He shuddered at the word.

"I see."

He cleared his throat, "So my arm is falling asleep a bit here, holding myself up and all. Should I just walk you back to your room or?"

"Oh! No! No, I want you to make love to me." He smiled at your words, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"And I will do just that!" He pecked your lips again, before wrapping your body into his arms and laying himself down next to you. He kissing you long and slow, letting his arms explore every inch of you. Your hands gripped at his shirt, wanting to feel all of him on you.

As if reading your mind, he pushed back from you and lifted the thin white shirt over his head. He glanced at the nightdress that still adorned your body. You took this as your queue to also shed yourself of your clothing, baring your naked form to him.

"You're beautiful." He mirrored your words from earlier, grabbing your head and smashing your lips back together. His other head reached between his legs and stroked his member.

He laid you down once again and returned to his position of hovering over you.

"So, I'm going to insert myself inside of you. It may hurt a bit so I'm going to go very slowly. Let me know if it hurts too much."

You nodded, words really have been failing you tonight.

"Ready?"

"Yes." The word held onto your breath, like a prayer.

Slowly he began to insert his member inside of you. The stretch was more painful than you had originally thought it would be and you grabbed his hand. He paused, taking this as a sign that you needed a moment.

After a second, he asked, "You okay?"

"It just hurt more than I thought, but I think I'm okay now."

He continued to push himself inside of your walls, stretching you out. Finally, his member was fully inside of you, you let out a breath.

"Can I move?"

"Move?" What does he mean move?

"I'm supposed to thrust myself in and out of you. It's supposed to be very pleasurable for both of us."

"Oh I see, I didn't realize there was more."

"There doesn't have to be, if you aren't ready." He tried to reassure you.

"No, you should thrust."

He couldn't help but laugh at your response but followed it anyways. His hips moved backward, pulling himself out of you. His tip reached the rim of your pussy before pushing fully back inside of you. He continued this motion slowly for a bit before you finally let out a moan.

"Does it feel good, my love?"

Your next yes came out as a moan as he bottomed out inside of you. He kept his slow pace stroking every part of your walls with his dick. The moans got louder and louder, as his pace began to quicken.

Pedro let out a groan at one particularly good thrust. This caused you to clench around his dick.

"Fuck, you feel so good. It feels so good inside you." He praised.

"Can you...can you go faster?" You asked, you could feel the coil in you once again. You didn't know why but you needed him to move faster or harder...or both.

He followed your instructions and began thrusting faster. The thrusts were shorter but they were feeling so much better. Each thrust hit a certain spot inside you that made you see stars. Pedro reached his hand down to rub your clit.

"I'm getting close, I need you to orgasm with me. Think you can do that?"

Now you had lost all ability to speak so you nodded. His lips found yours, as his fingers found your clit. Rubbing circles into it, as he continued his thrusts. His pace got a bit faster as he chased his orgasm and his fingers moved faster as he willed yours to come.

He grunted as he came inside of you, the feeling and noise causing you to tip over the edge as well. You clenched onto his dick as he kept his movements going, working you both down from your highs. When you had both returned to earth, he dropped his body next to yours, member still inside of you.

"You were right, it was very pleasurable." You said after a beat of silence. The only noise in the room was the sound of your labored breaths.

"It was very pleasurable." He agreed.

Looking over at you, he pulled you even closer, and planted a kiss on your head. You two fell asleep in each others arms.

You had just consummated your fake marriage.

Taglist:

@kittenlittle24 @tinypersonharmony @sofiparallel

#pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #the last of us #joel miller #oberyn martell #princess!reader #princess reader #princess x knight #knight!pedro pascal

[konigbabe]

propinquity

Pairing: bodyguard!Price x fem!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Tags/Warnings: smut; nsfw; dom!price; top!price; p-in-v sex; kinda an illicit relationship; age gap (still legal and consenting tho); AU world; oral sex (female receiving); outside sex; praise kink; penetrative sex

Summary: Being the daughter of the prime minister doesn't always come with privileges - especially after a terrorist organization publicly declares its intention of taking the lives of your family because of your father's decisions. The situation gets even worse when you have to deal with a bodyguard who is anything but pleasant to be around.

A/N: This is basically an AU - the premise is that Captain Price is an ex-SAS soldier who retired and became a bodyguard instead of creating TF 141.

masterlist • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

The hand that was still holding you firmly against the tree trunk moved to your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly before he replaced his tongue with his fingers, lips moving upwards to eagerly lap on your painfully aching clit.

He brought you to a place of exquisite bliss. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of passion. You were lost in the moment, at this moment, and nothing else mattered.

The thing about having a permanent, over 180 centimeters-tall shadow is that it was not entirely familiar to you and made you feel peculiar. People would look twice when they saw you and him.

Price, as you'd come to address him, wasn't particularly fond of you either. He knew this line of work would mean meeting a variety of new people on a regular basis. What he didn't sign up for was, in his words, "babysitting a crude birdie who happened to be potty trained just yesterday".

There was no love-hate relationship nor any need for it; John was there purely as your protector, a man hired to guard your body and for the right remuneration, he was willing to do just about anything to make sure you were kept safe.

His presence awakened a feeling of safety within you. Despite his at-times harsh behavior, he always seemed to take care of you just the way you needed.

Sitting at your kitchen island, you looked at your dad in disbelief, feeling a sense of hopelessness but still clinging to a small thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could somehow change his mind. You had a pretty clear idea of what the outcome of this conversation would be before you even asked him, but the faintest spark of hope kept you from giving up.

"Dad, you can't possibly be serious about this," you groaned at the laptop screen, watching with exasperation as he exhaled heavily and slowly straightened his back.

"Darling," his voice was calm, a little raspy from his long day at work, "it isn't safe for you and you know it."

"But everyone is going there. My whole class is gonna be there. It's literally in the middle of the woods, do you seriously believe that some terrorists are about to attack me there? It's been weeks since that letter and nothing happened, it might even be a hoax."

Unfortunately, your complaints were not taken into consideration as you stared at your father with pleading eyes.

"I'm not going to repeat myself. This is my final decision and you are not permitted to go."

"Didn't you say that I should enjoy my university life to the fullest? Because in the last few weeks, the only places I've been to are my flat and classes. And this bloke," you pointed at Price, who was until this moment casually leaning against the counter with a cuppa in his hands, "is staring at my back 24/7".

Price, clad in a simple grey shirt tucked into his dress pants, raised an eyebrow and glanced at you, taking in the situation with a slow and calming breath. He paused for a moment before taking a sip of his tea, allowing the warmth of the liquid to soothe his nerves.

"You're right," your father gave a knowing nod before his eyes shifted away from you, "John?"

"Yes, sir," Price answered, his voice low and questioning. He put the cup on the kitchen island and made his way closer to face his boss, his strides slow yet confident. One arm was carelessly draped over the back of your chair while the other came to rest on the kitchen island for support. The faint smell of cigars and sandalwood, so specifically his, filled the air and indulged your senses as you felt his arm brush your shoulder. A sudden wave of warmth and comfort washed over you as you realized just how close he was.

Having been mere centimeters away from you, you looked up into his face, his freshly trimmed and styled beard looking so incredibly soft. You always wanted to sneak a touch to find out if it was as soft as it appeared or if he was one of those men with a beard full of harsh and prickly hairs.

How would he feel between your legs? Was he a man who took pride in his skillful use of his tongue, or was he someone who was eager to get his cock wet? Most of your past partners weren't particularly enthusiastic about performing oral sex on you...you blamed it on the fact that they were young. You had heard from your friend that older men were usually more traditional and preferred to be more generous with their tongues. You couldn't help but question - was Price one of those gentlemen?

Hearing your name fall from John's lips made you realize just how tightly you had clenched your thighs together, face dangerously close to the crook of his neck.

It's just hormones, just a surge of estrogen and progesterone that want me to breed, you shook your head in a desperate attempt to clear your befouled mind.

"You're staying in your bedroom tonight," your father said, "John will make sure you don't leave your room."

Sucking in your dry lips, you remained silent for a moment, your mind spinning with forbidden fantasies, the kind that left you feeling guilty and excited all at once.

"John, just make sure my daughter won't leave. I have a feeling she will be a troublemaker."

"I can handle a troublemaker, sir," your bodyguard said as you tried your best not to show any sigh of annoyance out of respect for your father.

"Good to know. Have a good night you two," with those words, the screen went completely black.

"Love you too, dad," you mumbled as you turned around, slipping under John's inviting arm and taking your keys.

"Where do you think you're going, birdie," John stepped slowly around the kitchen island, his eyes never leaving your figure. His arms were crossed over his chest as if to challenge you to a battle of wills.

"Going to the party," you mirrored his stance, "look, Price," taking a step closer and unfolding your arm, you stared into his eyes, "I am well aware that you are doing this for the pay grade. You don't really care about me but c'mon, you were young once too, I bet. Don't tell me you've never been to a party. I mean, we all have a right to have some fun, don't you think? If a party is what it takes to make this job easier, then why not? We all deserve to take a break once in a while, and I don't think it will hurt anyone if I just go and have some fun."

"My personal life is none of your bloody business," Price growled as he snatched the keys from your grasp.

"Now go to your room," he ordered, "and don't make me drag you there again."

"Unbelievable, Price, just unbelievable," you groaned in frustration and stomped your way to the bedroom, practically slamming the doors in anger to make it perfectly clear to Price just how irritated he had made you.

You laid down on the bed and listened to the sound of Price starting the shower. An idea popped in your head as you walked to the doors and tried to open them but they were locked.

You let out a loud, angry scream as you punched the doors a few times with all your might, your rage beginning to build up inside. He had really locked you in there.

Your hand throbbed from the constant pummeling it had taken as you slumped against the door, alone. Everyone else was at the party, enjoying their drinks, but here you were once more, cooped up in your flat with Price, unable to partake.

As you sat there, your chin resting on your knees, your gaze gradually shifted to the window. That should work.

“Screw you, John Price.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The bonfire danced before you as you stared into its flames, the taste of cheap alcohol lingering in your mouth bitterly, a reminder of the good whiskey, brand unknown, that Price kept in one of the cupboards, out of your reach - or so he thought. You remembered the feeling of that whiskey and how it filled you with warmth and a sense of contentment, something that this cheap alcohol could never give you.

The first time you chanced upon the bottle of scotch tucked away in the back of your cupboard was quite accidental. You suspected Price of being a drinker but had never actually seen him with a glass of liquor in his hand. However, while you were on the hunt for some sweets to satisfy your craving, you stumbled upon the half-empty bottle of scotch. Naturally, you couldn't resist pouring yourself a glass every now and then, and were certain Price had noticed you drinking it, yet he chose not to bring it up for some reason.

You wondered what he was doing, something you hadn't done before. This was the first time since you had met that you were without your shadow. It made you feel strangely uncomfortable, knowing his presence was missing and the sense of comfort he had brought you was gone, replaced by uncertainty. Something you had once found strange and unexpected in your life, but now had become a part of it, something you had grown fond of.

What will he do once he finds out the truth? Once he realizes you are gone? Your wandering thoughts made you check your phone absent-mindedly.

No missed calls, no unread messages.

"Do you think if we say his name three times, he will show up," your friend suggested, "like Bloody Mary?"

"Don't even joke about that," you let out a chuckle, sipping on your drink.

"John Price," another girl sitting by your side said, throwing her arm around you with a warm and friendly embrace.

"John Price," she repeated his name with a wide grin.

Something inside you shifted, a deep-seated emotion expanding and stretching through your chest like a tightly wound elastic band being slowly lengthened. Hearing your bodyguard's name coming from her mouth filled your body with a feeling you couldn't even begin to put into words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you watched her repeat his name for the third time, the emotion in your chest slowly stretching and winding its way through your body.

A body squeezed itself between you and your girl friend. With a slight jump of your heart, you quickly glanced over to see the face of a boy you recognized from your classes, but one whom you had no idea who he was. He was someone you saw on a regular basis but had never spoken to.

"Hi there, ladies."

The moment his lips opened, you could smell the sharp, pungent scent of alcohol emanating from his mouth. You crinkled your nose in disgust, feeling his hand on the lower part of your back, like a vice-grip, as if attempting to keep you from running away from the situation, "How are we tonight? Are we having a good time?"

"Not anymore," your friend said standing up, "gonna grab us more drinks, be right back."

As you were left alone there, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, the desire to leave grew stronger as his hand kept lowering further down your back.

"Wanna go for a walk?" his lips brushed your ear as his hand rested on your bare thigh, the skirt feeling far too short as his fingers trailed their way up your leg.

"Not really, no," you choked out, putting your hand on his to stop his assault on your thigh.

"C'mon, just a fifteen-minute walk's all we need," he smiled, and in any other situation, you would have felt drawn to him, maybe even thought he was cute, but right now, all you wanted was to be invisible, to disappear and not draw any attention to yourself.

"I believe the lady said no," a firm voice declared with a commanding presence. A dark figure appeared before you, indulging you in his shadow as he stood with his back towards the bonfire.

"Bloody Mary," you exhaled, the tightness in your chest slowly dissipating as you stared into Price's eyes. He avoided making eye contact with you, instead focusing his gaze on the boy, who instinctively tensed up and shifted away from you in reaction.

Normally, his presence would fill you with annoyance, possibly ruining your perfect day, but now all you wanted to do was run into his embrace and feel the security of his arms around you.

The boy left without a fight, leaving an eerie stillness in his wake. You felt Price's eyes on you, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever. You could almost feel the tension in the air, and you had to resist the urge to break it. No matter how hard you tried, the quiet lingered, making the moment even more agonizing.

He extended his arm, offering you a hand to hoist you up from the grass, which you took gladly. His fingers squeezed yours and you felt like a tiny child again, overwhelmed by the size of his hand compared to yours. His warm grip was like a reminder of the safe comfort you felt when you held your father's hand as a child.

"You didn't have to come," you uttered the words silently, in the belief that your words wouldn't reach his ears, as he took your hand and led you away through the drunken crowd and into the silent depths of the woods, but he did indeed hear your words, despite the chaos around him.

"So, you're telling me that you want me to leave you here, all by yourself," he questioned as you ventured into the forest towards the spot where the parking lot was located, where his car was parked.

"No," you answered far too quickly, your cheeks becoming flushed with embarrassment. However, out of all the possible outcomes of your response, his genuine chuckle was something you had never expected in a million years. It was a sound that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, anything was possible.

Tugging at his hand, still clasped firmly in yours, both of you came to a stop in the middle of the moonlit darkness. His face was illuminated in the faint light, allowing you to see his features clearly.

"So you're not angry with me?"

"Oh, I'm bloody furious, birdie," he stated as you let go of his hand, heart pounding as you watched his eerily relaxed face, "you could've been in serious danger."

"No terrorists showed up," you replied, stepping towards him.

"That boy wasn't a terrorist but still a danger to you," Price stood resolutely, never once averting his gaze from yours, "my job is to protect you from any potential danger, to guard your body with everything I have. And I take my job fuckin' seriously."

With every word he said, heat raised in your body, the feeling spreading through your limbs like wildfire. You felt like you were melting into the moment, desire growing with each passing second. His voice was like a velvet caress, sending shivers down your spine as he spoke. You felt yourself leaning closer, wanting to be enveloped in his embrace.

His eyes, so deep yet light and warm, seemed to peer into your soul as he finished his sentence. You could feel the intensity that radiated from him. The longer you looked at him, the more alive he seemed to become, the more you felt a connection to him that seemed to defy all logic. You wondered what it would be like to touch those cheekbones, to trace the lines of his beard, feel the softness of his lips on yours.

The next thing you knew, your lips were tenderly pressed against his. Lasting only a second, you pulled away before Price managed to react.

I'm sorry," you whispered, your cheeks feeling as if they were on fire.

"You're drunk," he mumbled.

"Not enough to not remember this tomorrow," you replied promptly.

A moment of silence indulged both of you like an invisible force, slowly drawing you closer. You both felt a connection that could not be denied, and the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of your beating hearts.

He looked into your eyes, his own reflecting the passion you felt inside. His hands moved to cradle your face, and his lips met yours again. This time, he took control of the kiss. His lips moved against yours, exploring, tasting and savoring each moment. His hands moved to the small of your back, drawing you closer and deepening the connection between the two of you.

The kiss was passionate, intense, and unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You could feel the emotion radiating between you, swelling in the air like a tangible force.

He kissed you deeply, his beard scratching your upper lip as he sucked your lower lip between his. It was soft after all, well taken for. You felt your back press against the rough surface of a tree trunk, and his hands caressing your body, only fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach.

Hoisting one leg on his hip, you felt his bulge pressing against your crotch, right where you desired him the most, igniting a passionate heat between your bodies.

"Price," you moaned as he grounded his hips into yours.

"It's John," he mumbled between the kisses, the delightful roughness of his beard making its path down your throat.

Your head fell back, feeling the coarse bark of the tree behind you. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze rush past you. Pressing your chest into John's, his hand moved from your knee to your inner thigh, squeezing it harshly as if he was trying to make his presence known...as if he was making sure this wasn't just a dream.

A desperate moan escaped your throat as his palm pressed against your core, feeling your wetness as his palm pressed against your throbbing clit. His other hand slowly moved on your body, tracing your curves as he reached your chest. His fingers found your breasts, squeezing them over your shirt and sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

John's lips connected with yours once again. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting and teasing you with each movement while his hand palmed you through your panties. You felt yourself growing closer to the edge already, releasing months of pent-up desire.

"Gonna have a taste," John groaned loudly as you ground your crotch against his palm shamelessly, "you comfortable with going higher?"

"What?" you exhaled slowly, your brows furrowing in confusion.

Without warning, his hands suddenly grabbed your hips and he took a step back, almost as if he had planned it. Your legs automatically locked around his head as he hefted you onto his shoulders, his arms outstretched to secure you in the position he desired.

You squealed and tightly gripped his hair as the first thing that came under your palm. You looked down, meeting John's eyes in the moonlight as he stared up at you with an amused and indulgent smile. This was actually the first time you’d seen him smile so much, radiating a warmth that was quite unfamiliar.

"You find this amusing?" you chuckle heartily.

“Well, you should see your face, love,” he looked at you, his hands tight around your thighs.

"Why did you even do it?" your hands gradually released their firm grasp on his hair as you steadied yourself against the tree so as to avoid falling.

"So I can do this," John answered and broke the eye contact, hooking your skirt on your hips.

His presence enveloped you and you could feel his breath on your aroused body. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you as he gently caressed your inner thighs, kissing the inside of your thighs, feeling the delightful scratch of his beard between your legs. Not wasting a second, he moved your soaked panties to the side and pressed his tongue flat against your core, melting you into him as his tongue circled your clit before sucking it in.

Moans of pleasure escaped your open lips as you let your bodyguard devour you like a man starved, his tongue thrusting inside you deeper than you could have ever imagined as his hands moved to knead the soft flesh of your breast hidden underneath your bra.

"Fuck, I approve of this," feeling the overwhelming ecstasy fill your body, you did everything you could to remain balanced enough not to fall even though you were certain John wouldn't allow that to happen.

"I knew you'd taste like bloody heaven," he murmured as the sound of John lapping on your wetness blatantly filled the quiet night.

Anyone could be walking in your direction any time on their way to the parking lot and see the shocking, scandalous image of the prime minister's daughter getting her pussy eaten like a five-star gourmet meal by her own personal bodyguard, whose head was currently buried deep between her legs.

The hand that was still holding you firmly against the tree trunk moved to your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly before he replaced his tongue with his fingers, lips moving upwards to eagerly lap on your painfully aching clit.

"Keep goin'" you moaned in blissful euphoria, desperately pushing your hips into his face and locking his head between your legs as if you were afraid he was about to escape from you.

He groaned into your clit, sending vibrations straight to your core, only adding more pleasure to your already overheating body. His fingers plunged into you at a merciless speed, curling slightly upwards to search for that one spot he was determined to locate. A delightful knot tightened into your stomach as John brought you to the brink of ecstasy, and with one final thrust of his calloused fingers, you were swept away in a sea of unimaginable pleasure.

He kissed you on the clit one last time before pulling away and descending you down to the ground again with expertise while you were still drunk in his fingers, legs buckling before finding your footing again.

"John," you exhaled, flushed with desire as your hand extended to his painfully hard erection, still hidden underneath the dress pants he was wearing. He gripped your wrist, stopping your actions. Your eyes lost themselves in his, seeing how fueled by desire this man was, while John traced his fingers along your lips, painting them with your own juices before pushing them inside, watching as you sucked at his fingers, feeling the swirling of your tongue making him groan.

"Knew you'd be a good girl for me," he watched you clean his fingers for a brief moment before pressing his lips to yours.

"Do you want me," he asked between the kisses, his voice full of longing and passion.

"Yes," you replied instantly, hands finally sneaking to his pants as you brought him closer to your body, indulging yourself in his presence, in his sandalwood smell as you fumbled with his belt and zipper before palming his erection while keeping your lips locked together.

His breathing became labored as his hips started to thrust against your hand, making you smile as you felt his pleasure. You kept up the rhythm, your hand moving alongside the outline of his cock and sneaking into his underwear, spreading his leaking precum to lubricate his head. John groaned in pleasure as you took your time, exploring and teasing him until he could take no more.

"Condoms?" his breath fanned over your face as his eyes met yours.

"IUD," you kissed the corner of his mouth while he rutted against your palm. His breath came in short, shallow bursts as your touch electrified his body and sent waves of pleasure radiating through him.

Taking off your panties, your legs wrapped around his waist, locking at your ankles as you watched John stuff your underwear in his pocket. You angled your hips to meet his eager cock, pressing your body firmly against his as you kissed the side of his neck. His hands moved to take off your shirt, exposing your burning skin to the cold air and causing goosebumps to raise on your soft flesh. Your bra didn't last too long after that, and you were soon left wearing only your skirt, hooked around your hips. John's lips latched onto your nipples as he pushed his pants down, the head of his cock nudging your entrance and making you gasp softly as you were filled with anticipation.

His tongue circled your erected nipple as he pushed his cock inside you. Arching your back, you pushed your chest into his face. His hand sneaked between you and the tree trunk, fingertips tracing the natural curve of your spine.

"Fuck, love, the things you do to me," John said as he licked at your skin before blowing cold air onto the wet spots, elaborating on your ecstasy while thrusting slowly but deep inside your gummy walls, building up his pace steadily.

He brought you to a place of exquisite bliss. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of passion. You were lost in the moment, at this moment, and nothing else mattered.

"Oh my God," your legs quivered as John continued his lustful assault on your chest, leaving you marked and radiating with blissful pleasure.

It didn't take very long for you to whisper the word "Faster" into his ear, and he happily obliged, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts. John's hips rocked rhythmically against yours as he found the perfect spot inside you that sent waves of pleasure surging through your entire body.

The shameful sound of skin slapping skin, and your wetness being filled with someone's cock, reverberated in your ears. John's hand made its way to your throat, his thumb caressing the front of it before he squeezed your jawline, bringing your face toward his for another kiss. His thrusts became more violent, and you could feel your walls squeezing him delightfully with each rough plunge.

“M’close,” you murmured softly into the kiss, feeling your back heat up as the rough bark of the tree pressed against it, the scratching and pain intensifying the pleasure that was coursing through you.

“C'mon, want you to cum around my cock,” he whispered against your lips, his thumb caressing your jaw as his other hand moved from your thigh to your throbbing clit, teasing and tantalizing the sensitive bud to bring you to the edge of pleasure.

You turned your head, your mouth enveloping his thumb as you began to suck and swirl your tongue around its tip. When your eyes locked with his, his body shuddered in response and he felt the pleasure of the moment coursing through his veins. John became was unable to break the gaze as you continued to play with his finger with your tongue, the sensations overwhelming his body.

His thrusts became sloppy and uncontrolled as he neared his climax.

"Cum for me, love," he whispered seductively in your ear, making your body quiver and moan with pleasure as his thrusts became increasingly passionate. As you reached the brink of orgasm, you felt his cock swell inside you and you clenched around him tightly, sending waves of delight through both of you as you finally came undone.

"That's it," John grunted against your skin, his tongue toying with your nipples again. A few powerful thrusts later, John was grunting and biting into your skin, sure to leave marks, as he finished inside you, staying still as he savored the moment - the feel of both your juices mixing together inside your pulsating velvety walls before slowly making its way out of you, drenching your thighs.

You panted heavily and leaned your head against the tree, your hands still firmly pressed against John's shoulders as he effortlessly held you close to his sweat-soaked body. As he slowly pulled out of you, a soft whimper escaped your lips at the sudden empty feeling. He hold you by your waist while his eyes followed the trail of cum going down your legs.

Taking your panties out of his pocket, he knelt on one knee before you and used them as a wipe to clean your hypersensitive core and the trail leading to the ground.

One final kiss later, John pulled up his pants, stuffed your cum-stained panties back into his pocket and deftly fixed his shirt before helping you dress on your shaking knees.

“You good, birdie?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, fixing your bra and tucking your shirt into your skirt while running your fingers through your hair to make it look less like you had just been ravished against a tree by your own bodyguard.

"We should go before someone sees us," John stated, looking in the direction you came from.

A genuine laugh left your lips, "now you're worried someone might see us?"

"You're funny, birdie," with a smile, he offered his hand to lead the way before falling slightly behind you and becoming your silent, stoic shadow once again.

“Can you walk all the way back," he asked as he observed you stumble slightly.

"Don’t flatter yourself, Price, doesn't suit you” you laughed it off as you continued walking towards the parking lot, your bodyguard trailing after you, a chuckle escaping him. His muscular form soon appeared next to you, and his arm slung around your waist to help steady you after you stumbled a few more times.

#captain price #john price #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain price smut #john price smut #captain john price #captain john price x reader #cod #callofduty #codmwii #callofdutymodernwarfare2 #callofdutymodernwarfare #smut #moni writes #codmw

[neon-junkie]

Tech x gn!Reader - An Early Lunch

A short 500 word drabble. Tech is meant to be doing repairs, but procrastination gets the better of him. However, he knows how to fix his concentration.

He's doing it again.

You're not meant to be his babysitter - far from it - but given how often he drifts away from his work, you certainly feel like it.

"Tech," your voice chimes in, and with wide eyes, Tech peers over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Tech lets out a soft, "hm?" which only causes you to shake your head in annoyance.

"You're distracting yourself. Again," you explain, gesturing to the jumble of repairs that lie untouched in the Marauder's hallway, an obvious safety hazard, although this ship is one big hazard in itself.

"I would not call this a distraction," Tech defends as he holds up his spare pair of googles. "I began rummaging through these draws to search for a specific tool, and in doing so, I found my missing pair of goggles. Upon finding them, I realised that the recorder lens was cracked, and I know that I have the required materials to repair this minor issue. So, I decided to hop to it, and I will resume to the ship's repairs shortly-"

"-No, you won't," you say with a tut. "I've seen you distracting yourself all morning, and we both know that Hunter will not be happy when the others return from their supply run, to find that you've barely made a start on them."

Tech lets out a long and frustrated grumble, yet he continues fixing his goggles, popping in the new lens and fixing them in place. "Perhaps an early lunch will assist in putting me back on schedule," Tech proposes, which only causes you to roll your eyes.

"And now, you're hungry?" you sigh. Sure, you can get started on the repairs yourself, but Tech was meant to be teaching you. How can you proceed without his assistance?

"Yes," Tech responds with a simple nod. "But not for food."

"Oh?" you respond with a raised brow, causing Tech to grin. Maybe his wandering mind isn't such a curse, after all? So long as your main task gets completed.

"Oh, indeed," Tech nods. "It appears that my frustration is causing me to stray off course. If you allowed me to relieve myself, then I am certain that I will be able to regain focus." Such bold words from an even bolder man.

Rising from his mess on the Marauder's floor, Tech makes his way over to you, a gloved hand coming out to cup your own. You allow him to lead you over to the Pilot's chair, his chair, and seat you upon it. "Do I have your consent?" Tech questions as he sinks to his knees, spreading yours apart and positioning himself between them.

"You have my consent, but you must promise that you'll focus on repairs after. I don't want to put up with Hunter-"

"-Don't think about Hunter," Tech cuts you off with a wave of his hand. "The repairs will be completed. All you need to do is relax, and allow me to work."

A promise is a promise - something that Tech never goes back on. You might as well allow both of you to have some fun, especially if it means Tech will be able to concentrate on his repairs. So… why not?

#tbbwriting #tbb tech #bad batch #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #bad batch tech x reader #clone trooper tech x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert

[sugamehhq]

His Angel (Johnshi)

Quick things before you indulge;

This is an au I've started working on where these characters are placed in a world of demons and angels. For this specific story part, a process known as "marking" or "claiming" is done.

In the realm of demons and angels there are rankings. The higher your rank, the more privileged you are. Anyone who falls in the 7-12 range are not lucky people. The only way to climb in the ranks is either by someone above you dies, or by a higher up claiming you as their own (with consent). The marking/claiming process can never be done without consent. An action of consent is required to begin the process.

In Johnny's case, he was born a rank 12. Being a rank 12 means he's been treated poorly most of his life. Of which leads me to say CW/TW for mentions of Sexual Harassment/Sexual Assault. Please stay safe!

(Art is included at the end for visuals :] )

--

“Remind me why you’re here again,” Johnny stated, avoiding Kenshi’s gaze.

The demon was a little confused by the sudden request, but complied, “I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Right,” the angel fidgeted with his fingers, “and why is that?”

Kenshi sighed, “I’ve told you already. I enjoy your company, you’re comforting to be around.”

He paused before asking a question, “Do you not enjoy our time together?”

The angel’s brows furrowed as he searched for an answer.

“Would you prefer I leave?”

“No,” Johnny replied quickly, “I’m just confused is all.”

Kenshi raised an eyebrow before placing himself by the angel’s side. His hand gently took Johnny’s, the other’s small wings moving to cover his face.

“If I may ask,” the demon spoke softly, “what’s confusing you?”

Johnny hesitated, his hand accepting the demon’s touch while he thought how to word his concern.

“Who told you about me?”

His voice was gentle, but rough enough to get the point across. He felt this wasn’t genuine. That Kenshi was sent to keep watch over him for something worse, that there were no real feelings. The fear in his mind was making it hard to see the truth. Johnny was aware there was some connection. The demon had spent months visiting, doing everything he could to protect his lower rank self, showing him respect, bringing him gifts, and yet there was still the strong feeling of it being too good to be true.

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you’re just here to use my body for satisfaction, then use me. There’s no need to butter me up for months if that’s all you want.”

Kenshi’s heart hurt knowing that thought has been stuck in the other’s mind for months, yet all he could do was repeat the same thing over and over, hoping one of these days it would get through that horrid road block in the angel’s mind. He found himself standing in front of Johnny, gently pulling his feathers from his face, revealing an expression of fear yet acceptance.

“Starlight, look at me,” the demon placed his hand against the other’s cheek, “there’s no need to be afraid of me.”

Johnny’s lower lip twitched as he fought back tears.

“You know that, and I know you’ve been through a lot, but please don’t be afraid of me,” Kenshi wiped the singular tear that fell, “I’d rather die than ever think of hurting you in such ways.”

The angel’s hand shakily met the demon’s wrist. His eyes closed, allowing the tears to fall.

So Kenshi continued, “A close friend of mine told me about you, how you’re a good person, that you don’t deserve what you’ve been through, so I came to see for myself. I started spending more time here than in my own territory. It occurred to me that you really are something special.”

The demon hesitated, his words feeling way too corny for himself, but he chose to keep speaking his mind.

“I grew fond of you. I’ve wanted nothing more than to bring you up from this hellhole, not only because it’s the right thing to do, but because I truly fell in love with you, and I want you to see that. So, over the last few months, I’ve tried my best to prove myself to you. I’ve brought you things I thought you’d enjoy. I respect your wishes. I avoided anything you disliked. I wanted to make you feel safe and give you a safe space. I’ve grown territorial of you. I want to protect you. I-”

The demon’s mind went blank. He had so much more to say, but couldn’t figure out how to word it. It sunk in that he admitted to the fact of wanting to claim the angel, take him as his lover. His mouth hung open, slight nerves settling in his gut as he waited for a slap in the face, assuming the angel would think he was crazy.

How many people have told him the same thing, only to turn around and hurt him for no reason at all? What he did just now, he was probably no better than the other disgusting demons that tried to get a taste of Johnny.

A laugh entered the air, a song the demon would kill for just to hear again.

“You’re so blunt,” Johnny laughed.

Kenshi’s face relaxed, assuming he didn’t mess up his words.

“Not blunt, honest.”

Johnny pulled Kenshi’s hand away from his face, squeezing it in his other hand. He admired the claws of the demon, the color of his skin, how rough yet soft his touch felt, the jewelry that adorned his arm. His eyes trailed up to his shoulder, chest, opposite arm, back to his chest, to his feet, and finally up to his blindfolded eyes. Kenshi stood still, his posture stiff in fear he was presenting himself wrong, which earned another laugh out of the angel.

“You’re trying too hard for someone like me,” Johnny smiled, wondering what his eyes looked like under the cloth.

“I beg to differ,” Kenshi sighed while relaxing his shoulders.

Johnny continued to laugh at the demon. Even if it was to make fun of him, Kenshi enjoyed the sound.

“So, run that by me again,” Johnny spoke, “what’s this about love?”

The demon’s tail twitched nervously, but he obeyed, “I said I fell in love with you.”

“Right,” the angel leaned closer to the other, his voice softening, “and what did you say you wanted to do?”

“Bring you up from this hellhole,” Kenshi replied automatically.

Johnny smiled, taking in Kenshi’s features once more.

He really did love this demon. So why should he feel guilty about this? Kenshi himself just stated he loves him, but that word doesn’t mean anything when you’ve been told all your life how loved and beautiful you are, only to be used and thrown around like a damn toy. 

Even still, Johnny followed his heart. The angel planted a soft kiss on the demon’s cheek. A silent way of inviting the demon into his heart.

Kenshi was hesitant, his heart grew louder, his tail swishing slowly behind him. Was he really allowing him into his life? Was all his hard work finally paying off? 

“Johnny,” Kenshi whispered in awe.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure?”

The angel froze. Did he mess something up?

“I-I mean are you okay with me. Are you sure you’re okay with it being me?”

“Kenshi,” the angel placed another kiss on his face, “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

The demon’s lips broke into a smile, his heart pounded in his ears. He could only imagine how stupid he looked at that moment. His head fell against Johnny’s shoulder, his arms embracing him.

“You do know it’ll hurt like hell, right?”

Johnny sighed, “I’m sure I’ve felt worse.”

Kenshi cringed at the statement. Both for what it implied as well as the idea Johnny might be overlooking how painful a marking for them would be. Regardless, if Johnny was okay with it then he’d gladly deliver.

The demon lifted his head, taking the angel’s face in his palms. His lips found the other’s, testing the waters. He gave Johnny the opportunity to back out, but the angel returned the kiss.

His left hand gently trailed its way down to Johnny’s right hip, where his initial “12” mark was exposed. As if staged, Johnny’s left hand found its way to Kenshi’s exposed back, his finger tips grazing over the demon’s “3” mark. With a consenting kiss and connected marks, their palms began to glow, signaling the start of the marking process.

The two stood together, hands grasping at each other’s marks. It took about a minute for the pain to creep into the angel’s muscles. A burning sensation ran down his thigh to his knee. While Kenshi remained unphased, Johnny’s leg started to shake lightly.

Pulling away from the kiss, he rested his head against Kenshi’s shoulder, a hesitant growl resonated from his throat in response to the pain. As another agonizing minute passed, his knee started to give out, the only thing keeping him from falling over being Kenshi’s hold on his hip.

“Use your other hand,” Kenshi spoke, his voice ever so slightly shaking, “you can hold my arm.”

Without thinking, Johnny did as told, his right hand finding Kenshi’s upper arm. His fingers dug into the underside of his arm. The pain from his hip spread to his side creating a combined feeling of a horrific side stitch alongside a massive leg cramp. 

In an attempt to mask the pain for the other, Kenshi returned to his prior position in providing a kiss. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Johnny to pull away again. He tried to speak, but the pain took his breath away, though Kenshi could tell what he was trying to say.

“You’re alright,” Kenshi sighed in an attempt to combat his own aches, “I’ve got you.”

The angel rested his forehead against the demon’s in an attempt for comfort. Having been in immense pain for about three minutes, all he could do was stand there and listen to the other’s calming words until the pain subsided.

After an agonizing four and a half minutes, the pain started to dissipate. Johnny’s body collapsed on itself, all his energy had been used connecting his energy to Kenshi’s. The demon’s hands immediately moved to embrace the other, guiding him to the ground safely. While the process was draining for both of them, it wasn’t nearly as bad for Kenshi as it was for Johnny.

The angel struggled to keep his eyes open, fatigue catching up with him almost instantly. As his eyes closed, Kenshi laid him on the ground comfortably so he could rest.

As much as Kenshi would’ve loved to take a nap as well, he dedicated himself to staying by his partner’s side, keeping watch for any suspicious higher ups. Fatigue wouldn’t stop him from protecting the angel at all costs.

As the angel opened his eyes, he felt disoriented, like his world was on a tilt. He blinked a few times trying to take in his surroundings, to understand where he was and what happened. He felt a sense of fear being unsure of where he was or who was around him, but that slowly ceased as his mind registered the gentle messaging of his hip.

Kenshi had found himself instinctively brushing over the mark on Johnny’s hip, a way of comforting the other. He wasn’t sure how much it actually helped, but he did it anyway. The demon waited for a bit to eventually speak.

“How do you feel?”

Johnny hummed in response, still tired.

“Is this helping?”

The angel nodded, the comfort he felt from the other’s touch kept him from seeing the world upside down. Kenshi huffed in response, acknowledging the silent request to keep at it. 

As Johnny slipped in and out of sleep, Kenshi grew tired. He too wanted to rest from prior events. The next time Johnny opened his eyes, Kenshi asked if he could move them to somewhere more secluded.

“Can you stand?” Kenshi asked while helping the other sit up.

“Mm, doubt it,” Johnny shook his head, barely able to lift himself up from the ground originally.

It was a little worrying the effect marking the angel had, but Kenshi pushed his concern aside in favor of picking the other up. He lifted Johnny into his arms, noticing his leg was still stiff, he quickly moved to somewhere more hidden, somewhere that he wouldn’t have to worry about anything happening to his angel.

It didn’t take long for the demon to join the other on the ground. Without any sort of bed, the floor was just barely tolerable, but for a fatigued pair such as them, it was the comfiest thing in the world. 

Having been newly bonded, Johnny joining Kenshi in being a rank 3, the two settled for cuddling each other for a while. They’ll save rank discussion and their future for a later date.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was the fact that Kenshi’s goal was met. He had saved him.

His angel.

--

Some extra details to think about:

Markings hurt for every pair that consents to one. For Johnshi their marking is the most painful one of the list of character's I have.

Pain of markings is basically like a cramp in your muscle.

Receivers' markings can be found in three places: Their hip, cheeks, or their necks.

Givers markings can be found in three places: Their back, chest, or stomach.

Markings are extremely draining, specifically if the rank distance is large like Johnshi's was. (Johnny had to sit through four and a half minutes of burning pain as his mark switched through the nine stages of ranks before ending at Kenshi's rank 3.)

When bonded with another being, your energies are tied to one another. You can feel what the other feels, comfort them by touching their mark, and overall, just feel closer to your other half.

Angels and Demons all have three types: Angels can have white wings, brown wings, or black wings. Demons can have spiked wings, pinched wings, or rounded wings. (There's more to this, but I don't want to make this too long.) Johnny is a lower-ranking brown wing while Kenshi is a higher-ranking spiked wing.

Ranks also determines the kind of jewelry a person would own. Kenshi's on the higher end, so he possesses golds. Johnny originally being the lowest rank of 12, he possessed bronze.

Kenshi's whole goal in this au was to bring Johnny up from a rank 12 to a rank 3 to keep him safe, of which clearly, he won.

Here's some art to give you an idea of what this looks like :))

@s-icarus-hofmann designed their outfits ! Everyone thank them for the help :))

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!

#johnshi #mk1 #kenshi takahashi #johnny cage #johnny x kenshi #kencage #mortal kombat 1 #sugameh's fic archive #sugameh's aus #mongelmkau #Demons and Angels MK Au #johnshi fanart #mk1 fanart #mortal kombat #mk1 au #mortal kombat au

[dbnightingale24]

Just because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You

A long ass Lloyd Hansen One Shot

~~

I’m apologizing now because the story I originally had planned, and what I actually wrote, are two completely different things. I was completely fine with Lloyd being a villain, but then my sappy ass was like “okay, but what if he wasn’t?”. This is his villain origin story basically, and no one asked for or needed it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY. Honestly, if they ever do a study on my brain, it’ll be pointless because they’ll never find out what the fuck is wrong with me. I’m telling y’all now, this is EXTREMELY smut heavy, with cute moments here and there. Part 2 is going to be all of the cute stuff. Just work with me. Anyway, here’s another fucking novel because I’m annoying and don’t know when to stop. There were supposed to be pictures of the outfits reader wears, but this shit is already so long. Maybe in part 2 if I ever learn to tone it down. Anyway, have fun!

Word Count: 43,950 (Listen, I said I wanted this done in under 45,000 words. Be proud of me, dammit)

Warnings: Honestly, this whole fucking story is a warning. SMUT, so much fucking smut (I’m so sorry), anal, squirting, choking, slapping, Daddy kink, Mommy kink, Degrading kink, Swearing, Drinking, Smoking, Angst, Lusting, Violence, Public Sex, Daddy Issues, Murder, Lloyd Hansen (lets face it, he’s a warning on his own), Some manipulation (I guess), Family drama, Loss...Minors if you even blink at this I’ll snitch on you.

Song(s) That Inspired This: I Brought You My Love, You Brought Me Your Bullets.

Summary: Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

I do not give consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

Part 1

“Lloyd, are you sure-”

“Ask me that question one more time, and I promise you won’t like the answer,” I mutter as Agent Miranda’s lifeless body hits the ground. “Trust me, Carmichael, I know exactly what I’m doing. If there’s one thing Y/N taught me, it’s impulse control,” I smirk.

“If you say so,” he sighs into my earpiece. “If you know where Fitzroy is, why not just weed him out now?”

“Impulse control, my friend. All about impulse control.” 

6 Years Earlier...

“I don’t understand why Lloyd Hansen is our responsibility,” you mumble as you sit in your Father’s office.

“Because it’s what we do,” he sighs, tired of having the same talk with you.

“Okay, let me fix that. Why is Lloyd my responsibility?”

“Because you’re the best there is!” he snaps, slamming his hand down on the table. “That’s how I trained you, that’s how I raised you! To be the best and get the job done! The government sees a lot of potential in this man, so we’ve got to get him into shape!”

“We don’t have shit to do with the government!”

“We train assassins because we are assassins, Y/N.”

“Whatever, where’s his file?”

“Here,” he mumbles, tossing you the file.

“Before this month is up, I’m putting in my two weeks.”

“Y/N-”

“No Father, I’m tired of this shit. I’m not you. Just because I’m good at killing people, doesn’t mean I want keep fuckin’ doing it.”

“Y/N, you’re one of the best and I know this was never the life you wanted, but-”

“I’m not going back and forth about this. My mind is made up and that’s final.”

“How is it that you always break my heart?”

“When you’re not trying, you’re an easy man to break,” you smile weakly. “Let me go get started on Lloyd,” you sigh, grabbing his file before making your way out.

Your Father doesn’t love anything or anyone besides you. Maybe it’s because you’ve never wanted for anything, maybe it’s because you stayed out of the way when you were a child, maybe it’s because you don’t bother him, or maybe it’s because you became extremely talented at the family business without much help from anyone.

Or, just maybe, it’s because you’re his daughter.

Whatever the reason may be, he’s taken an extra sense of pride in you being so good at your job, which has resulted in multiple arguments whenever you tell him that you wanna move on and do something else with your life. You never meant to be good at killing people, it just came naturally.

It is the family business after all.

You stand outside the “classroom” and sigh before grabbing the remote clicker and making your way inside.

‘This is the last time you’ll have to do this,’ you tell yourself as you take a seat on your desk and look him over. ‘Well, they certainly sent you a good looking one this time.’

Lloyd is the text book definition of a gorgeous man, and going by what his file says, he’s had a good life. His Father owns a construction company, and his his mother was a beauty pageant queen turned stay at home mom when he was born. His grades were amazing, he was great at sports until a football injury made him quit, and he was voted most likely to succeed in High School.

He was top of his class when he was training to become a member of the CIA, his accuracy is amazing, and he doesn’t fail the jobs he’s given. His problem? Cruel and unusual torture methods, 0 impulse control, bad ethics, pays no attention to authority, throws all caution to the wind, and the list goes on.

“I take it you’re supposed to be my teacher for all this,” he smirks at you, as you hop on the desk; looking you over as you cross your legs.

“That would be correct, Hansen. Looks like you got kicked out of Academy.”

“That would be the case.”

“Care to share with the class what’s so wrong with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s your damage, Lloyd? Why are you so fucked up?”

“You’re the one holding my file.”

“And none of it adds up, so you tell me, what’s your problem?”

“Isn’t that your job?”

“Oh Sweetie, no” you smile at him. “My job is to fix you enough for the government to use you until you’re dead. That’s what we specialize in here.”

“Is that something I’m supposed to want?”

“You’re the one who signed up for the CIA, Sweetheart. I didn’t tell you to.”

“Well, what the fuck is your problem?”

“Pick something another day and we can talk in depth about it,” you smile before pressing the button on the clicker, sending a a jolt of electricity through him.

“JESUS!”

“You’re losing focus, Lloyd. That doesn’t do well with me.”

“What the fuck is this?!”

“It’s a school for fuck ups, Sweetie. I thought they explained that to you.”

“Yeah, they didn’t say it was a school for torture!”

“Eh, isn’t it all the same, really?”

“Listen-”

“No no, you listen Honey,” you coo as you get off the table and hit the clicker again causing him to jolt. “I’m your trainer...your teacher,if you will. You’re mine for a month. That’s a month of you doing as I say, going into combat with me, learning from me and my team, and all of those fun things,” you finish, leaning on the desk next to his.

“And if I don’t pass your little class?”

“That’s up to Fitzroy and his little gang of minions. After a month, you’re no longer my concern,” you shrug.

“And what makes you so good at all of this?”

“You’re straying again, Dear. I don’t like that,” you taunt before hitting the clicker again and turning, slowly making your way back to the desk.

“Would you knock that off?!”

“Only when you learn to fall in line, and its such a shame for you, cause I’ve got another 4 hours with ya, babe,” you smile sadistically at him.

“Oh, for fucks sake!”

“You know what I think the problem is, Lloyd? I think the problem is that you like to fuck.”

“What?”

“You like to fuck. In fact, you love to fuck, but you don’t love to get fucked.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Control, Sweetie. See, you love to fuck because you love being in control. Getting fucked means someone else is in control and you hate that.”

“Yeah? Well, what about you?”

“I love to fuck and get fucked. Both are very enjoyable if you do it right.”

“And I take it you’re gonna fuck me?”

“In ways you can’t even begin to imagine,” you smile darkly.

For the next 4 hours, Lloyd is your little pet.You zap him when he steps out of line, you get him to open up more about what exactly snapped in his brain that makes him act the way he does, and you get him to tell you exactly why he wants to be apart of the CIA.

“We’re gonna meet back here at 8am on Monday, so be ready to do some field work,” you sigh after checking the time.

“That’s it?” Lloyd groans, and you can tell he’s exhausted.

“I’ve got everything I need,” you smile at him.

“I barely said anything?”

“Trust me, you said more than enough,” you practically sing. “Enjoy your weekend!” you call over your shoulder before you exit the room.

When you step back into the hallway, Cahill, Fitzroy, and your Father are all standing there waiting.

“Hes got a 50/50 chance,” you shrug, handing his file back to your Father.

“Well, what the fuck does that mean?” Fitzroy scoffs.

“Exactly what the fuck it sounds like. He needs to be in control, but if pushed far enough, he can let someone else hold the reigns for a while.”

“Think you’ll be able to whip him into shape in a month?” Cahill asks, looking into the “classroom”.

“All depends on how bad he wants to be apart of your little team,” you smile sarcastically, before turning and walking away. “See you all on Monday!”

“What about Hansen?!” your Father calls after you.

“Send him home, send him to the bunks downstairs, do whatever you want. I’m officially off the clock. I don’t care!”

“Y/N!”

“See ya Monday, Father!” you respond, continuing on your way out.

The drive back to your house is probably the most simple drive you’ve ever had. Traffic is a breeze and you’re more ready than ever to kick off your weekend. You’re more than over all of the shit with your family’s business, and you just wanna forget who you are for the next two days.

“Hey, am I coming to get you, are you coming to get me, am I meeting you at your place, or are we just meeting up at the club?” Taj asks as you answer her call, making your way into your house.

“What works for you?”

“Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

“I told my dad I want out, again.”

“And?”

“He’s not happy about it.”

“I honestly can’t see how your Father is surprised that his daughter doesn’t want to take over a waste management company.”

“He’s a stubborn man,” you scoff, plopping down on your sofa.

“Well, you stood your ground, right?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. He’s gonna argue with me until my last day there,” you mutter, turning on the TV.

“I’ll come to you,” Taj beams and you chuckle. “Just relax and unwind for now, and we’ll get ready together. Sound like a plan?”

“You sure?”

“I’ll see you in 20,” she practically sings before hanging up.

You chuckle before tossing your phone to the side as your work phone starts going off.

‘I can’t wait to be done with this shit,’ you think to yourself before answering the call. “No,” is all you say before hanging up and tossing your phone to the side.

Yeah, the argument can be made that you’re being a brat, but at this point, that’s more on them than you. It’s part of the reason you want out. You never signed up to be an assassin, really. Your Father saw how good you were at it, and decided it was the life for you.

No, he didn’t ask, but it’s not like you ever really protested. There was no reason to. Your Mother was dead and you didn’t have much of a life. Why make a fuss if there was no reason for one? You and your Father had made peace with the issues between you two a long time ago, the main issue being your Mother, and you just kind of made your own way from there.

It wasn’t until you were 17 that you decided that you really didn’t want the life your Father had created for you. It’s cold, it’s lonely, it’s thankless, it’s dangerous, and there’s no fun in it.

No love.

When your work phone goes off again, you groan in frustration. “NO!” you yell when you answer it. “Whatever it is can wait until Monday!”

“Your Father-”

“I don’t care!” you snap, hating how much you sound like a petulant child. “Monday, you can all piss me off as much as you want. Until then, fuck off!”

You’re quick to hang up before throwing your phone down on your coffee table.

You just want to be free from all of it. Obviously, the life you live offers you luxuries that you know most jobs won’t, but it’s not worth it. None of it is worth it. Besides, you’ve made enough money to not have to worry about anything. You can comfortably sit on your ass for the rest of your life if you want, but you know you could never do that.

You love art, animals, plants, hiking, nature, cooking...you want to do something that has to do with the things you love.

You want to do something normal.

You sigh in frustration before getting up and heading to the kitchen, taking out a glass and pulling out your favorite bottle of whiskey.

It’s time to start pre-gaming.

You’re halfway through your second glass when your doorbell rings.

“Open up, bitch!” Taj yells and you stifle a laugh. “We’re getting DRUNK tonight!”

“My neighbors can hear you,” you laugh as you open the door.

“Then they should get drunk too!” she yells before wrapping you in a tight hug. “What’s going on, babe?”

“I’m just...I’m worn out,” you mumble as you two break apart and step aside to let her in. “It’s time for a change.”

“He gave you a hard time when you told him you’re leaving?”

“He wants to talk to me, made one of his employees call me, but I told them that whatever he has to say can wait till Monday.”

“I’m sorry you got stuck with the shittier parent,” she sighs, grabbing her own glass and pouring herself a drink.

“It’s not even that he’s shitty. He just doesn’t know how to be a parent. He never even wanted to be a parent. It’s never been lost on me that I was an accident. I don’t know...I know he loves me, but this is something we’re never gonna see eye to eye on. I can already tell that the closer we get to the end of the month, the uglier this whole thing is gonna get,” you sigh.

“Well, lets not worry about that right now,” she smiles at you as she takes your hand “we’ve got a girl’s night to get ready for.”

“It’s gonna be one for the books,” you smirk before grabbing your drink and dragging her up the stairs.

In almost no time at all, you find yourself almost completely forgetting about all of the things you’re stressed about. Taj blasts your “party night” playlist as you take a shower and wash the day off of you, letting yourself ignore that you’ve been lying to absolute best friend about what you’ve been doing for a living since you were 14 years old. It doesn’t matter that, on Monday, you have to go in and collect paperwork for the next mission you have to do, while train someone else to be the perfect little killer.

None of it matters because, for the weekend, you can pretend. You can pretend you’re normal and that you do have a normal job. You’ve got a normal Father and your Mother didn’t die because of his lack of care and consideration.

You can pretend you live a normal fucking life.

“Okay, you BAD FUCKING BITCH!” Taj yells, as you step out of the bathroom in your outfit for the nigh, and burst out into a fit of laughter.

You decide on a black cross halter top and mini plaid skirt, with knee high black boots.

“You just decided to choose violence tonight,” she smirks.

“I just want to feel young and carefree.”

“You are young and carefree.”

“Yeah, but I don’t feel it,” you mumble as Taj laughs.

“Don’t worry, tonight’s gonna be great,” she smiles, wrapping you in a tight hug.

As you hug her back, you let the rest of your fears and anxiety fall away. For the weekend, you’re able to just forget everything.

Lloyd’s P.O.V.

“She tortures you with electrics shocks?” Carmichael asks as we grab our drinks from the bar.

“That’s her being pleasant,” I scoff as we both make our way to the guard rail of the balcony. “She’s a piece of work, I’ll say that much.”

“It’s only for a month.”

“Fitzroy can fuck off. The only reason he sent me there is because he’s pissed that I made the right call.”

“Well, that and you did kill an innocent by stander.”

“It was bad enough that she was there. All her crying wasn’t helping a damn thing. It was boring and annoying,” I shrug before catching a glimpse of the last person I expected to see. “Well, what do we have a here? There’s my little Cupcake right there,” I smirk, watching you on the dance floor with someone I’m assuming and hoping is your friend.

“She’s the one whipping you into shape?”

“The bane of my existence.”

“Someone who looks like that, I would’ve guessed that you would want to be on your best behavior so that you can fuck ‘em.”

“Who says I’m not?” I question as I watch you sing along to whatever song is playing as you dance along by shaking your hips.

It was hard enough to ignore my cock twitching during your little evaluation, even with you zapping me to death, but now? That little outfit you have on as you dance and drink the night away? How the fuck am I supposed to contain myself?

The woman you are on that dance floor is completely different from the woman you are in training.

Fuck, I wanna take you right here and now.

Impulse Control.

“What are you thinking, Lloyd?” Denny chuckles before finishing off his drink.

“I’m thinking that, before the month is up, she’ll be under me and apologizing for being such a pain in the ass.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“I need a smoke,” you laugh as Taj orders you both another round of shots.

“You’re supposed to be quitting!”

“Yeah, that’s not happening tonight,” you laugh as you pull your pack of cigarettes out of your purse. “I’ll be back in a little!”

“Ya know, that guy up there has been staring at you for about 30 minutes now,” she says quickly, eyeing a guy in the balcony.

You can’t help but burst out laughing when you follow her gaze and see who’s at the other end of it. “Yeah, he probably wants to kill me.”

“Who is he?”

“Our new trainee. I was a little rough with him today and he’s probably a little hurt.”

“Well, he looks like he wants to steal you, so be careful when you go out there. Also, if you do survive, please send him my way.”

“I’ll put in a good word,” you laugh before making your way outside.

You take two drags from of your cigarette before you hear the door close behind you.

“You know, smoking isn’t an attractive trait.”

“You know, giving your unwanted opinion isn’t an attractive trait.”

“Y/N.”

“Lloyd,” you smile, turning to face him. “Looks like you’re doing fine.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Oh, I went easy on you. Trust me, I’ve done far worse, Sweetheart” you chuckle before taking a drag from your cigarette.

“That’s not hard for me to believe at all.”

“Lookin’ for a pretty little thing to lick your wounds clean?”

“Looking for you to lick my wounds clean.”

You look him over before chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “My best friend is inside and looking for something to lick. Go talk to her.”

“She’s not who caught my eye.”

“I’m your superior, Hansen.”

“Only for the month,” he smirks.

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you scoff before throwing your cigarette down and stepping on it.

“You’re thinking about it.”

“Never gonna fuckin’ happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because why should it?”

“Cause we both want to,” he smirks.

‘Work comes first’ you mentally tell yourself. You look him over and chuckle before shaking your head. “Go away, Lloyd.”

“What? Like you said I love to fuck and you love to be fucked.”

“Eh, I said I love both,” you shrug.

“Lets leave right now, go a few rounds, and find out who’s better, Doll Face” he smirks.

“On that note,” you laugh as you decide it’s very much time for you to go “you enjoy the rest of your night. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I’ll get you underneath me soon enough.”

“Have fun jerking off to the thought of that,” you laugh as you make your way back inside.

“Trust me, I will.”

The minute you’re back by Taj’s side, you’re ordering a drink.

“I can’t tell if that means it went bad or not,” she chuckles.

“I mean, he was very upfront about what he wanted.”

“Yet, you’re standing here with me?”

“Work comes first, Taj. You know how I am.”

“Yeah, but he’s gorgeous, even with that stupid mustache.”

“You’re more than welcome to go indulge for the night, but I’ll sit this one out,” you laugh before taking a sip of your drink, swaying your hips to the music. “Besides, I didn’t come out to get laid. I came out to get blackout drunk and dance. I have two days to forget about everything else before I have to jump into the shit show again.”

“If you’re this miserable, why not just quit on Monday?”

“Cause I at least owe him this. No, he was by no means the best Father, but he really did the best he could, and it’s not like he’s the worst Father. It’s all just fucking complicated,” you sigh.

“Well, with the way...?”

“Lloyd.”

“Lloyd is looking at you, I’m not about to make an attempt and get my fucking feelings hurt,” she laughs. “If drinking and dancing is what you wanna do, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do,” she smiles.

So, for the rest of the night, you two run up a tab and dance until either of you can barely stand. You feel Lloyd’s eyes on you the entire time, and it awakens something inside of you.

Yes, you want to start looking for someone to settle down with and start on that chapter of your life, but you’d be lying if you said you don’t wanna take the arrogant asshole for a ride. No, you’d never end up with a man like Lloyd. After spending just a few minutes with him, it’s very obvious how different you both are. Just in looks alone, you can tell that he’s very specific about everything from the way his hair is styled, to his shoes matching his socks. Whereas, with the exception of work, you really don’t put much effort into your outfit. Hell, the only reason you bothered to get dressed up tonight was because you wanted to. You had a desire to pretend and that was all.

Not to mention, he was a pretentious asshole, a bit whiny, spoiled, and very much a psycho. There’s no chance of you and him ending up together. That being said, he does look like the kind of man who will give you a filthy, mind blowing, life changing fuck, and fuck all if that’s not what you need. But still.

Work comes first.

“You get home safe, Doll Face” Lloyd smirks at you as a car service for you and Taj.

“You too, Hansen,” you giggle with a slur as you stumble into the car. “See ya Monday.”

“Maybe sooner than you think,” he calls as you close the door.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Taj scoffs.

“Who the fuck knows?” you giggle.

When you both finally arrive back at your house, you’re both quick to take off your shoes.

“I need water and sleep,” Taj laughs as she stumbles into your kitchen.

“Are you sleeping in my room or are you taking the spare.”

“Dude, I might just sleep on the fucking couch. I’m fuckin’ beat,” she laughs as your work phone buzzes. “Why the fuck is work texting you at this hour?”

“Who the fuck knows,” you grumble as you fish your phone out of your purse. “That’s funny, it’s Lloyd,” you scoff before opening the message. “Holy fuck,” you gasp with a slight moan.

‘That arrogant son of a bitch,’ you think to yourself as you watch the video he sent you of himself jerking off.

“Once again, why are not underneath him?” Taj asks, unable to look away from the video herself.

“He’s a child.”

“Not by the looks of this video,” she laughs.

“Taj.”

“I’m just saying, a little fun never hurt anyone. As for where I’ll be sleeping, it definitely won’t be in the bed with you,” she chuckles before plopping down on the sofa.

When your phone buzzes again, you’re both nervous and desperate to answer it.

Lloyd Hansen: Just some food for thought.

Y/N: You can’t send texts like that to this phone, Lloyd.

Lloyd Hansen: Then give me the number to your personal phone.

Y/N: How much have you had tonight?

Lloyd Hansen: You know you want to.

Y/N: Go to bed, Hansen.

Lloyd Hansen: Come over here and get in it with me, Cupcake.

Y/N: Hansen.

Lloyd Hansen: You’ll cave. They always cave.

Y/N: Goodnight, Hansen

Lloyd Hansen: You enjoy yourself tonight. I know I will.

“A spoiled little brat,” you mutter as you throw your phone back into your purse.

“With a cock like that, he can be as spoiled as he wants,” Taj yawns as she turns on the TV.

“You go to sleep,” you laugh as you slowly start to make your way upstairs, walking not exactly your strong point at the moment.

“You two, babe. After you scratch that itch,” she teases.

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff as you make your way upstairs.

You’re ashamed at how quickly you pull out your vibrator as soon as you get in bed. It’s not like anyone needs to know that you’re gonna get off to that video multiple times, and you’re sure as shit not gonna tell him about it. Besides, if anything, you’re helping yourself not give in to what you want. You’ve been doing your job for basically your entire life, and besides few minor hiccups, you’ve never fucked up extremely bad.

As far as you’re concerned, fucking Lloyd Hansen would be a major fuck up.

After getting yourself off for the 4th time, you decide it’s time to call it a night, and that you’re done with any sexual ideas involving Lloyd Hansen. He’s just your last student and at the end of the month, you’re done with him and the current life you live.

When you wake up the next day, you’ve got a handful of texts on both your personal and private phone. You groan in frustration, opting to answer your go through your personal phone first.

Taj text you to let you know she got home safe and she’d text you later, they’re a few texts letting you know that your packages you ordered a week ago finally arrived, and your Father reminding you that you have dinner plans tonight.

Your work phone consists of texts containing information about your next job, the weapons and technology you’ll be using, texts from Lloyd.

Lloyd Hansen: Rise and shine, Doll Face. Hope you enjoyed your special video last night. Let me know when you want another, or when you want to make one together.

You groan in frustration as you roll over. Damn him for being able to read you like a book. Yeah, you can tell him to stop, but you don’t want him to. It’s been a while since you’ve fucked someone, and even longer since someone has been desperate to fuck you. Part of that is your fault though. After you last failed relationship, which turned out to be a setup anyway, you zeroed in on work. You decided that relationships can wait, but you only made that choice because you didn’t want to get burned again.

You were afraid.

Now, Lloyd is making it very clear how much he wants to satisfy you, and you want to give in so bad. You want to be rough handled, you want to be degraded, and you don’t want to be in control. God, you’re so fucking tired of being in control of everything all the time.You just want a release and you know Lloyd will give that you. Why? Because he loves being in control. You watched him contain himself every time you sent a bolt of electricity through his body, and in all honesty, it made you want him that much more. It made you want him because you knew that as soon as he got his hands on you, he’d tear you apart. He’d show you who was really in charge and that’s really all you want.

You want to be someone’s sex pet before you’re anyone’s wife. However: Lloyd is off limits.

By the time you’re at your Father’s house, your head is spinning.

“You’re not focused,” he mumbles as he stirs the sauce and you can tell he’s annoyed.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” you mumble before taking a sip of wine. “Besides, I’m not working, so why is it a big deal?”

“Because I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“No, you’re trying to talk me into staying, and I don’t wanna have that conversation.”

“Honey-”

“No Father, I don’t want to do this anymore. You didn’t give me a chance to figure out what I want! You just pushed this on to me and said it was the best fucking choice!”

“You’re good at what you do-”

“That doesn’t mean I want to do it!”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to keep you close so I can protect you.”

“Yeah? Like you protected Mom?” you bite.

“Watch it.”

“No.”

“Y/N-”

“You decided that she didn’t matter and with her out of the picture, it was easier for you to pull the strings and control me!”

“Jesus Y/N, I couldn’t have saved your Mother even if I had wanted to!”he finally snaps as he throws sauce spoon down. “You swear you know every fucking thing and that I’m some heartless monster, but you don’t know shit! I had no choice but to leave her there! It was either you or her, and I chose you! The look in your Mother’s eyes let me know that she wanted me to choose you! You were only 7! You think I was gonna let my only child get killed?!”

“It’s not like you even wanted me!”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I never fucking wanted kids, and now that you’ve lived this life long enough, you can see why! However, the day you were born...it changed everything. I wasn’t even gonna fucking show up, but your Mother was dead set on having you and I wasn’t about to be some fucking deadbeat. You were ultimately my mistake, and I wasn’t about to just bail on you or your Mother. When she had you...when I got to hold you...you didn’t cry, you just smiled and grabbed my finger. You were so fucking happy and how the fuck was I supposed to just walk away? How was I supposed to not give a fuck? You are the first and only thing I’ve done that’s been right, Y/N,” he sighs. “I’m not a fucking moron, Y/N. I know this isn’t the ideal life, I know that forcing you into this as a fucking child was fucked up, and I know it was unfair, but I fucking tried! You think I’m against you having a normal life because I don’t want that for you? I’m your Father! Of course I want that for you! But you’re not built for that! Plus, I can’t keep you close! I can’t keep you safe!”

“Father-”

“No Y/N, you’re the only thing in this life that I’ve ever given a fuck about. I’m not a warm man, I’m not a kind man, and I’m sure as shit not a good man. I kill people for a living and I’m so fucking good at it, that they released me from prison to help out the government when they need it. I know the man I am and the life I live, but you are my child and I love you. So yes, I do want to keep you as close to me as possible. I know I’m not the parent you would have chosen, but I’m the parent you have and I’m fucking doing my best. Whether you believe me or not, I’m doing my fucking best,” he mutters as he wipes away a few tears.

In this moment you feel so incredibly small.

“I can’t keep living this life, Father. I can’t keep living this lie.”

“It’s not like you want for anything!”

“I want simplicity! I want to be normal! Every fucking time I hangout with Taj, I fucking lie to her! Do you know how much I hate that!? Yeah, it’s great that financially stable, but there’s more to life than that! I want to get married, I want the house with the white picket fence, I want kids! I want a normal life! The only thing I’ve ever wanted is a normal life!”

“Honey-”

“I turn 26 in two weeks! I’ve given my life to this job! Yay, I’m fucking good at killing people, but I don’t want to be! You’ve had me kill parents, kids, fucking elderly people, government officials, and so on! Do you know how much I hate myself? How much I hate the fact that I hate that I’m so good at this?! Other kids were playing in the fucking park, meanwhile, I’m at fucking target practice! No child wants that! I wanted rules, restrictions, to be grounded! I wanted to be normal!” you yell, tears streaming down your face.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?”

“Have you ever been able to?” you question softly.

“You have to follow the same procedure as everyone else. If you haven’t filed your papers in the appropriate time frame-”

“I know, I have to do another month so all the paper work can go through,” you mutter.

Dinner is awkward and silent. Neither of you says a word to the other, not even about the mission, but you know you’ll feel bad if you just leave him there. You both get through and set up another dinner date for next Saturday.

By the time you get home, you’re a wreck and you just want to hide in a hole forever. You’re over everything, and you know that you really don’t have much fight left in you. One more fight with Father and you’ll cave.

Just like you always do.

You decide to let your depression win and order a large extra, extra cheese pizza from your favorite pizza spot, before deciding that your night will end with you drunk.

You’re on your third glass of wine and second box of tissues when the doorbell rings.

“You’re not the pizza guy,” you sniffle when you open the door and find Lloyd standing there with a folder full of papers.

“Are you okay?” he asks as you step aside to let him in.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” you grumble, closing the door once he steps inside. “What are you doing here?”

“Your Father wants you to look over these files for Monday’s mission.”

“Why the fuck did he send you?”

“He said you wouldn’t take the files if he showed up with the paper work, and that it would be best for me go over them with you since we’ll be working together.”

“He’s not wrong,” you scoff, before finishing off your glass of wine and pouring yourself another glass. “Any specific instructions?”

“He said you’ll know how to handle it and he’s not worried.”

“How fucking kind,” you mutter as someone rings the doorbell. “Finally.”

You’re quick to grab the pizza and give a tip before making your way into the kitchen and grabbing a plate.

“You want a slice?” you ask Lloyd as you sloppily place two slices on your plate.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks as he looks you over.

You can’t really blame him for wondering. You’re in your worn, extra large Oxford crewneck, short shorts, and your hair is in a messy bun, and you’ve got red eyes from crying so much. You’re half passed tipsy and about to indulge in food you shouldn’t, all for the sake of comfort and false stability.

“I’m fine, Lloyd. Just another fucking Saturday. Do you want a slice or not?”

“Sure,” he mutters as he takes a seat at your kitchen isle. “I take it now is not a good time for me to ask you how much you enjoyed that video.”

“You would be very correct, Hansen. Very correct,” you mutter as you put a slice on a plate for him before trading the papers for the plate. “Oh, for fucks sake,” you mutter as you look over the first page.

“Something wrong?”

“For me? Yes, something is very wrong. Jesus, I hate this fucking job.”

“What do we have to do?”

“Kill an innocent woman to get to her snake of a husband. He’s apparently taken some very important files from people he shouldn’t have and now, he’s in the fucking wind,” you sigh as you continue to go over the paperwork. “Of course there’s a fucking child involved. Well, at least she has cancer. From the looks of this, she doesn’t have much longer to live.”

“That’s good?”

“It’s very good,” you mumble before taking a bite of your pizza. “Me killing this woman will be doing her a kindness. Her kid doesn’t have much time left and we’re going to kill her husband. Us keeping her alive would only give her time to plan her own suicide.”

“Is that what you tell yourself every time?”

“Every job is different, Lloyd. Some are easier than others, just like some are harder than others. However, this is pretty black and white. They’ll all be together again before the end of the month, so just leaving her alive while her husband and daughter are dead...it’s better this way.”

“People get what they deserve-”

“They clearly don’t, because this woman has done nothing to deserve this.”

“I don’t know how the hell you’re so good at this job being as emotional as you are.”

“Because, Hansen, it’s all about drawing a fine line, which is one of your main problems.”

“It’s a heartless job and I’m a heartless man,” he shrugs, taking a bite of pizza.

“No Lloyd, the rule is to be heartless, but only when you have to be!” you snap, annoyed with his coldness. “Anything else is just bullshit and you know it.”

“Ya know, if you hate this job so much, you can always quit,” he sighs, rolling his eyes.

“End of the month. You’re my final student,” you smile before taking another bite of your pizza.

“Yet, you still won’t fuck me.”

“Until I sign on the dotted line, the job comes first. Always has and always will.”

“I can still be your good little boy if we fuck.”

“Yeah, something like that doesn’t sound accurate,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine. “You barely passed my assessment,” you chuckle as your personal phone rings. “Hello my love!”

“I wanna hangout tonight,” Taj whines and you laugh.

“I can’t hangout this weekend. I’ve got work shit to do,” you sigh, looking over more paperwork.

“I thought you had weekends off?”

“Sometimes. I can only throw my bratty weight around so much.”

“How was dinner with your Father?”

“Well, I came home and cried and am slowly downing a bottle of wine, while eating a large pizza with extra, extra cheese. Soooo yeah.”

“What did he do this time?”

“It’s not even on him this time. It’s me and my shit, and he rightfully put me in my place about some shit. I don’t know, I gotta sort my shit out. I’m honestly too old,” you chuckle humorlessly, watching Lloyd as he gets up and grabs his own wine glass and pours some for himself.

“That’s why you should come out tonight!” Taj practically sings into the phone.

“I can’t,” you laugh, looking over the weapons detail list.

“You’re so responsible now. You were so much for fun in college.”

“I was so much more fun in college. My rebellious years.”

“The boys.”

“The body shots.”

“The jello shots.”

“The late night adventures.”

“And now look at us, one whore and one responsible adult.”

“We did graduate with honors though.”

“Oh how we sparkled,” she sighs and you giggle. “I’ll let you get back to it, I guess.”

“Oh, don’t go sounding all depressed and making me feel bad.”

“Well, I am depressed and you should feel bad.”

“I promise to be more irresponsible after I quit.”

“Like...pregnancy scare irresponsible?”

“Well, lets not take it that far.”

“I love you,” she laughs.

“I love you and I’ll text you later,” you smile before hanging up. You look up from the paperwork in front of you to see Lloyd drinking from his glass while eyeing you mischievously. “Shut up and sit down, we’ve got work to do,” you snap.

For the next two hours, you and Lloyd strategize and come up with a plan. A majority of the time you were telling Lloyd that he was going off the deep end, and he said that you weren’t being harsh enough.

“How about this,” you sigh, opening up another bottle of wine “I’ll take care of the woman and you take care of her husband.”

“I can handle the woman.”

“I can already tell from this conversation that I’m gonna fail you, and then you really won’t like me.”

“Yeah, because you’re so cuddly and sweet now,” he scowls, taking the bottle out of your hand and pouring himself a glass.

“Asshole.”

“I can’t wait to be in yours, Doll Face,” he smirks as he pours you a glass.

You open your mouth to say something, but decide that being a smart ass isn’t currently in your best interest because of how badly you actually do wanna fuck him. You roll your eyes before getting up and making your way into your basement.

“You coming?” you call once you reach the bottom.

“Well, it’s not like you gave clear instruction,” he snaps, as you hear him quickly coming down the steps.

“Yeah well, you’re such a smart ass, I figured you’d put two and two together,” you mumble grabbing two brief cases. “These are yours for this mission. Depending on how you do will determine what you can use for the next one,” you state, handing them to him.

“What is it?”

“If you open them up, you’ll be able to find out.”

“Ya know that smart little mouth would look amazing wrapped around my cock.”

“Shame you’ll never get to experience it,” you state firmly, meeting his heated gaze.

“Ya know,” he starts, throwing the cases down, “I know just how bad you wanna fuck me.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“I saw the way you were dancing last night, especially after our little talk,” he practically growls, moving closer to you.

“I just like to play with fire,” you shrug, standing your ground.

“I could just take you right here and now-”

“Careful Sweetheart, you’re supposed to be working on that impulse control of yours, or lack thereof.”

“I think I’m doing pretty fucking good seeing as I didn’t bend you over and fuck you on that little desk of yours after the first time you zapped me.”

The look in his eyes tells you just how much he’s restraining himself, and it makes you all that much more excited. You love that he’s not getting his way and you can tell that he didn’t think he’d have to put in this much work. Not giving in is both heaven and hell for you.

“Sometimes, you just can’t get your way, Honey,” you smirk, taking a step closer to him.

“I don’t like not getting what I want, Doll Face,” he growls.

“Get used to it.”

You both stand there, breathing heavy, not breaking the gaze you both have on each other.

All he has to do is touch you and you’ll have an orgasm on the spot.

“Now, be a good little boy, finish your wine, take the weapons home, and prep yourself for Monday.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Punishments are something I’m very good at,” you promise darkly, and you can see his fists tighten out of the corner of your eye.

“I’ll let you get away with this shit for another week-”

“Let me? Oh Honey,” you chuckle “sooner or later, you’re gonna figure it out: you’re not running the show.”

Lloyd’s pupils are fully lust blown and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep up this act. All you want is for him to throw you down and show you who’s really in control.

But work comes first.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he growls before picking up the cases and storming out.

You hear him stop upstairs and you can only imagine that he’s finishing the wine, before you hear his footsteps again and then your front door open and slam shut.

You let out a breath you weren’t aware that you’d been holding and scrap your plans for the rest of the night. Instead of coming up with a fight plan, you spend the rest of your night in bed, fucking yourself with a vibrator, moaning Lloyd’s name every time you got yourself off. Of course the thought of just going out and getting fucked crosses your mind, but something tells you that it won’t be anywhere near as satisfying as getting your back blown out by Lloyd.

Lust is truly an annoying thing.

When you wake up the next day, you tell yourself that all of your energy and concentration is gonna go to the mission. You don’t have time for hooking up or Lloyd and his bullshit. One wrong move and everything could go to shit.

However, you’d be lying if you said that you’ve never had better aim.

“You sound exhausted,” Taj says as you settle down on the sofa.

“I am. Being me is exhausting.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, Taj. A big fucking idiot.”

“Uh oh,” she sighs into the phone “what happened?”

“I’m just fucking annoying. I get in my own fucking way all the time.”

“Lloyd, your dad, or work?”

“It’s all the same at this point. I have a fucking headache,” you groan.

“Babe, you’re a grown ass woman. If you wanna sleep with Lloyd, sleep with him. Hell, I wanna sleep with him. Yeah, work comes first and all your other bullshit rules, but you’re not even gonna be there after the end of the month. Have fun and everyone else can go suck a toe. As for your Father, I love you, but he’s a piece of shit. I don’t know what the fuck happened at dinner yesterday, but he can fuck off. Him making a few points doesn’t make up for a fucked childhood and adult life. He doesn’t get to throw his weight around now because he wants you to be nicer to him. Sorry, that’s not how this works. When it comes to your job, FUCK YOUR JOB, BRO!” she yells, causing you to burst out laughing. “You’ve been so miserable since you’ve been working there and it’s not fucking worth it. Especially with you about to quit. I love you to death, but you’ve gotta stop living to make your Father happy. Do what you want. .Who you want. It’s your life and you can only live for you, babe.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Be pretty fucking miserable, I assume,” she chuckles. “How’s your week looking?”

“Busy as fuck. I think I’m gonna have to travel.”

“I never knew waste management involved so much traveling.”

“Conventions and health shit,” you murmur, hating have to lie to her again. “We can do something when I get back.”

“I suppose so. Do you know how long you’ll be gone for this time?”

“No, and I hate that.”

“Why can’t your dad go?”

“He’s delegating.”

“He’s being a lazy piece of shit,” she scoffs and you laugh.

“I gotta go though. Early day tomorrow.”

“Alright babe, I love ya.”

“I love ya back,” you smile before hanging up.

As you fall asleep that night, Taj’s words roll around, and you start to toy around with the idea of breaking your rules.

Just once.

**

“I told you, I don’t know anything!” the woman sobs hysterically as you tighten the clamps around her waist.

You’ve always had a thing for Medieval torture.

“Oh Sweetie, I know that’s what you’re saying, but I’m afraid I know that’s a pile of shit,” you coo softly, gently wiping away her tears. “I know you wanna help your daughter and he’s the one bringing in the money. I understand, but the problem is: stealing is wrong. Your husband stole files from some very important people and they very much want them back. So,” you sigh as you turn the crank and tighten the clamps even more as she screams “we’re gonna have to keep this up until you decide that you do know where he is.”

You can feel Lloyd’s eyes on you intently, and you don’t even need to look at him to know that he’s getting off on all of this.

Sick fuck.

“H-he’s in Bangkok!” she cries out. “He’s been hiding there for two weeks!”

“See?! I knew you’d be able to help us!” you smile sweetly. “Now, where in Bangkok is he?”

Her silence has you shaking your head in disapproval.

“I thought we were past this part, Love,” you sigh as you turn the crank and tighten the clamps around her head, drawing blood.

“Please!”

“Where in Bangkok is he?” you question softly, as her phone starts to go off. “Well, speak of the devil! Now, you’re gonna answer him and talk to him like everything is normal. No talking in code, crying, or giving any signs that something’s wrong, cause I’ll know and it’ll really piss me off, and we don’t want that do we?”

“N-no,” the woman sobs out, trying to compose herself.

“That’s a good girl, Love,” you smile, before softly kissing her forehead. “Now answer him and put it on speaker,” you demand gently, before walking over to the table and sitting on it, legs crossed.

“Hey honey,” she says in the most normal voice she can muster.

“What’s wrong Elizabeth? Is everything okay?” the man asks, and the woman looks over to you.

All you do is nod and smile reassuringly.

“Everything is fine, Richard. Just getting back from a difficult hospital trip,” she lies confidently.

‘Good girl,’ you mouth with a warm smile.

“I’ll be able to come home soon, Honey. I’m flying to London tonight and I meet the buyer tomorrow. After that, I can come home and we can pay for that operation for Liza,” he promises and you can hear the hopefulness in his voice.

You mask it well, but this whole situation is breaking your heart. You hate this fucking job.

‘Ask him where he’ll be,’ you mouth crossing your arms.

“In case there’s an emergency, where do I call if I can’t reach you on your cell?”

“The London Elizabeth Hotel, I’ll send you the details soon. I have to go though, Lizzie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Richard,” she responds softly, doing her best not to cry before hanging up.

“You did amazing,” you praise softly.

“Just tell me whether Liza-”

“No one’s gonna do a thing to your daughter, I promise,” you tell her wholeheartedly. “Now, I’m gonna need that information he’s sending you.”

“Please-”

“Elizabeth, I like you, I really do. I feel for you and I know that you’re trying to be a good wife and Mother, but if you drag this out anymore, you’re just gonna make it harder on yourself,” you promise as you tighten the clamps around her head.

She practically drops the phone in your hand as she cries out in pain.

“Good girl,” you smile sweetly. You make your way over to the table and grab your pistol off the table and quickly screw on the silencer. You make your way back over to her and stroke face softly, ignoring the pain you feel over what you’re about to do. “I promise, no one will lay a hand on your daughter.” you tell her gently.

Before she has a chance to respond, you enter two bullets into her head.

“Clean all of this shit up,” you sigh, turning to your mercenaries. “Get it done fast and get her out of here. You and I need to get back to headquarters now,” you mutter, looking at Lloyd before grabbing your things and quickly heading out.

The car ride is silent and you can tell that Lloyd wants to ask why you’re so upset, but the stone look on your face has him second guessing that choice. By the time you’re back at headquarters, you don’t even knock before storming into your Father’s office.

“Y/N.”

“He’s flying to London tonight so he can meet the buyer tomorrow,” you scowl as you sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

He lets out a heavy sigh before meeting your angry gaze. “I know you’re angry with-”

“I’m not having this fucking talk with you, just tell me how you want us to approach this,” you snap bitterly.

“Y/N-”

“Do not,” you warn. “Tell us how you want to approach this.”

“You can’t-”

He’s cut off by you pulling out your gun and firing two shots into the ceiling. “That’s your final warning. Now, how do you want us to handle this?!”

He lets out a frustrated sigh because he knows he’s not gonna get much farther.

“Put a team together and you two go to London tonight. I want you staying at the same hotel as him, and I want eyes on him the whole time. No one does anything until he’s with the buyers. I want it done quickly, quietly, and neatly. You get in and you get out. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” you mutter before getting up.

“The girl will be dead before the end of the month anyway!” your Father snaps and you lose the little bit of composure you have left.

“Is that what you told yourself about Mom when you forced me to leave her for dead?! She was sick anyway, so what’s the point?!” you yell.

Your Father’s gaze goes from you to Lloyd and you scoff.

“Don’t get all fuckin’ shy on me now! I didn’t even wanna have this talk, but as per usual, you need me to not think the worst of you!”

“Y/N-”

“There was no reason to send me in there of all fucking people! You could’ve done that fucking job yourself then sent me to London! You knew how I’d feel and you made me fucking do it anyway! You love to twist the knife then play innocent. You are such a piece of shit!”

“You know I don’t mean-”

“Oh SHUT UP! I don’t wanna hear anything you have to say! Just send me the information I need and I’ll see you when we get back,” you scowl before storming out, Lloyd at your heels.

“What do you-”

“Pack your shit, meet me at my house, and we’ll go to the plane from there,” you snap as you get into your car and slam the door shut.

You cry almost the entire drive home. You’re quick to pack your things, ignoring your phone as it continues to go off, in no mood to hear anything your Father has to say. You feel slightly bad for snapping at Lloyd, but at the same time, maybe he’ll be scared enough to back off for a while, because that’s what you need more than anything.

When you hear the knock on your door, you scowl before rushing downstairs.

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” you sigh as you let Lloyd in. “Have a seat on the sofa or something.”

You’re quick to go back upstairs to your room and resume your search for your Mother’s necklace. You never travel without it, and it’s been so damn long that don’t remember where you put it.

“For fucks sake!” you snap, pushing everything off your dresser and starting to cry, again.

You really don’t have time for a breakdown right now.

“Something wrong, Doll Face?” Lloyd asks, making his way into your bedroom.

“Nothing,” you mutter, wiping your eyes. “I’ve misplaced something and I’m annoyed about it. I never travel without it.”

“Well, what does it look like?”

“I can find it on my own.”

“It’ll go faster if we look together, and then your Father will stop calling me.”

“It’s a necklace. A silver chain with a silver heart locket on it,” you sniffle out, looking over the things you knocked over as you wipe your eyes.

“A silver heart locket necklace. Got it,” he says softly as he starts looking around your room.

You’re not exactly comfortable with him looking around your room, but you both do need to be leaving soon, and you’re probably not going to find it in your current state.

You both search in silence for a few minutes before he calls your name from your closet.

“Is this it?” he asks, holding up a silver chain with a heart locket on it.

You’re quick to grab it from him and put it on. “Thank you,” you all but whisper. “We can go.”

You quickly grab your bags off of the bed before both of you rush downstairs, Lloyd grabbing his bags as you two go, and you both get in your car and drive off in silence. It’s not like you mean to have an attitude with Lloyd, but you’re just over the mission and wanna be done with it.

You want to be done with the life you currently lead.

“Ya know, if it helps at all, I don’t like your Father either,” Lloyd shrugs and a small smile comes to your face.

“Most people don’t.”

“You shooting off your gun to silence him? The sexiest thing I’ve seen you do yet, Doll Face,” he smirks and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Shut up, Hansen,” you smirk, feeling a bit better.

When you arrive at the pick up station, you ignore your Father almost completely, only acknowledging him when you snatched the files from his hand.

“Alright, listen up everyone!” you announce once the plane finally takes off. “Lloyd Hansen is in charge of this mission. Now-”

“What?” one of your mercenaries asks before thinking.

The glare you shoot him has him cowering in fear and you know it’s an accident he won’t make again.

“Now, he’s put a strategy together, it’s been given to each of you in the folders given to you upon boarding. Learn it. Memorize it. If you have any questions, he’s the one you ask. All the respect you show me, show him. If you don’t...well, you all know how good I am at punishments,” you smile sweetly before taking a seat. “Lloyd, if you have anything to say, the floor is yours.”

The look Lloyd gives you lets you know that you’ve given him a full on boner and just chuckle and shake your head.

Men.

As Lloyd gives his speech, you zone out and stare out the window. Fiddling with the locket, wishing that God would’ve left your Mother and taken your Father instead. You’re never able to make heads or tails of him, and that’s always been a huge issue for you. You know that when you leave the business, it’s only going to put more of a strain on the relationship you two have.

However, your thoughts have you feeling guilty, because you know that he does love you. He’s just an asshole who’s terrible with showing emotions. No, he wasn’t the type of Father that showed up to soccer games, or showed you how to ride a bike (you had a Nanny for things like that), but he was very protective over you. One day, you came home from school with a busted lip, because Ryan Baxter fancied himself a prankster. Your Father was understandably upset and wanted to know what happened. When he took you to the school the next day, he made you point the kid out, then proceeded to bust his lip and give him a black eye.

Poor Ryan was only 12, but he never bothered you again after that.

“Did you hear any of what I just said, Doll Face?” Lloyd questions lazily, taking a seat across from you, one chair over.

“Yes, I was listening. It helps that I record everything, so no worries, I’ll be able to go over everything repeatedly,” you smile sarcastically, forcing your gaze on him, still toying with your locket.

Lloyd looks you over and you roll your eyes.

“What?”

“I’m just trying to figure you out,” he scoffs.

“Well, I’ve known me for 25 years and still can’t figure that out. You have fun though,” you smirk, as you take the glass of red wine that’s been brought over to you.

“Anything for you, Mr. Hansen?” the stewardess asks sweetly.

“A few things, Sweetheart. I’ll take a glass of bourbon for now though,” he smiles coyly as the stewardess giggles before walking off.

“You work quick,” you chuckle before shaking your head and taking a sip of your drink.

“Jealous?”

“Of...? A spoiled little brat who’s desperate to stick his dick into anything? Or the fucking stewardess?”

“Oh, someone’s real jealous.”

“Lloyd, I’ve known you for all of 2 days and your file, while impressive, is 100% accurate. You have absolutely zero impulse control, no regard for authority at all, you are very much pig headed-”

“There’s a difference between confidence and pig headedness, Doll Face,” he corrects as the stewardess brings him his drink. “Thank you, Sweetheart,” he smiles as he looks her over. “I’ll have something for you later.”

The stewardess bites her bottom lip before looking to you, nodding, and quickly walking away. You just roll your eyes as you open up the file in front of you.

“You don’t like me, do you?” he questions with a devilish grin.

“I don’t have to like you, I just have to train you.”

“To be your good little pet.”

“To be the government’s good little pet.”

“You can teach me your favorite tricks,” he whispers in a seductive tone, and you hate the arousal that starts building between your legs. “How many times did you watch it?”

“Who says I did?”

“You gave yourself away in your basement, Doll Face. Deny it all you want, and hate me all you want, you wanna fuck me just as badly as I wanna fuck you.”

“I don’t reward employees for being winy little brats.”

“Then get me on my knees and make me work for your forgiveness.”

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know you’ll end up under Lloyd Hansen before you both get back to the states.

“You have work to do,” you mutter coolly.

“I’m looking right at,” he smirks.

“Um, Ms. Y/L/N, your Father is on the phone for you,” of your mercenaries tells you timidly.

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” you snap, not breaking eye contact with Lloyd.

“He says it’s urgent.”

You scowl before taking the phone. “Both of you, make yourselves busy and gone,” you demand.

Lloyd smirks knowing he has you right where he wants you, before grabbing his drink and some folders and making his way to another seat.

“What?” you hiss when you finally answer the phone.

“I want you to keep a close eye on, Hansen,” your Father sighs, and you can tell hes grown tired of your attitude.

“Not shit, Sherlock.”

“I mean it, Y/N. If you feel like he’s getting too out of control, step in and shut it down.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

“Y/N-”

“No, I don’t care if they’re giving you a hard job. This is my job. I always give you the best results, because I know what the fuck I’m doing. Don’t tell me to change it up now because the CIA is up your ass. I don’t work for them!”

“Technically, right now, we do.”

“They came to us for help, not the other way around. They don’t like my methods, they can go to someone else.”

Your Father sighs in defeat. “Y/N-”

“I’m over arguing with you today. Leave me alone to do my job my way.”

“Fine, one more thing.”

“What?”

“Do not sleep with him.”

“Excuse me?” you laugh incredulously.

“He’s got a reputation for a few things and I do not want him with you. He’s too out of control and a scumbag.”

“I can’t believe...whatever I choose to do with my time is my business. This is definitely not a talk we’ll be having ever again. Now, if you’re done trying to throw your weight around where it doesn’t fucking belong, I have to go,” you snap before harshly hanging up.

Whatever resolve you were hanging on to about not sleeping with Lloyd just went out the window.

You throw the phone down in the seat across from you, before getting up and making your way into the bathroom. The last thing you feel like doing is babysitting Lloyd and killing a bunch of people. You keep promising yourself that you’ll take a much needed vacation at the end of the month, but the thought of pushing that up seems more and more appealing by the second.

‘Just get through the mission,’ you tell yourself mentally.

For the rest of the flight, you listen to music, avoid Lloyd (who eventually does take that stewardess to the bathroom and does nothing to hide what it is they’re doing in there), go over the mission, and go through a bottle and a half of wine.

By the time the plane lands, you’re ready to settle under the covers and relieve your stress.

“When we get to the hotel, I want eyes and ears all over the damn place. If he takes a shit, I want know about it,” Lloyd warns, his voice low and dangerous.

‘Is there anything this man can do that won’t make your pussy wet as fuck?’ you chide yourself mentally.

“There’s more than enough time, so please believe that heads will roll if this shit isn’t done quickly and properly,” he promises ominously before making his way to the van.

By the time you arrive at the hotel, you’re in desperate need of some alone time.

“Ah yes, you, Mr. Hansen, and Mr. Fields will be in our suite on the top floor,” the concierge smiles at you as you check in.

“Who the hell is Mr. Fields?” you groan, now understanding the reason for your Father telling you not to sleep with Lloyd.

“Um, that would be me,” the IT guy says softly.

“Whatever, I’m tired and if I have one more argument, I’m gonna lose my shit,” you mutter. “Sorry for the confusion and thank you,” you smile softly at the concierge, before taking all the room keys and handing them out.

It makes sense that your Father had put everyone 2 to a room, and unfortunately, it makes sense that he put Lloyd in a room with you.

Lloyd is your pet until the end of the month after all.

However, a fucking heads up would’ve been nice.

“Do you need me for anything?” you ask Lloyd once all of you make it to the suite.

“No, Doll Face. You go...unwind,” he smirks towards you.

Fucking prick.

Nonetheless, you throw your things down on one of the beds, before grabbing a wine opener and one of the bottles of wine left out for all of you, and making your way into the bathroom.

It’s not like you have to work tonight.

As steam fills the bathroom, you open the bottle before slowly starting to undress, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the feeling of being numb.

It’s not enough that you’re in a forever war with your Father about literally everything in life, hate your job, miss Mother, and have to lie to your best fucking friend in the world. Lloyd Hansen hasn’t even been in your life a full fucking week, and yet he’s somehow flipped your world on its head. All over lust. Are you really that desperate? Is he really that attractive? Are you craving a release that much?

As these questions and a million more run through your head, you take a sip from the bottle before stepping into the shower. Yes, you know that you need to be sharp for the mission, that’s not lost on you at all, but a little buzz has never hurt you in the past. You’ve been trained to always be ready for anything, and that’s not going to change now.

Even if all you want is for the world to swallow you whole.

You stand under the water and let it wash away all of the pain and sadness, anger and frustration, and secrets and all of the lies. You let yourself pretend that, just for a moment, you’re on a normal business trip. All the orders and demands you hear from the other side of the door? Well, lets just pretend those are coming from the floor below you.

You take your time lathering up, as well as washing off, your favorite soap; smiling when the scent of peonies fills your nostrils. Yes, in the shower, you can live in a land of make believe and happiness, but you know it can’t last forever.

As you turn off the water, you let out a heavy sigh being brought back so quickly to reality. This won’t be your last mission before your time in the business is up, and you’re more than sure your Father is going to put you up to even harder tasks just to prove a point.

You’re supposed to be a killer; nothing more and nothing less.

You wrap the insanely comfortable towel around your body before grabbing your personal phone; texting the only person in your life who ever makes any real sense.

Y/N: Lets go out when I get back.

 Oxford Princess: You’ve left already? Well shit lol. And yeah, sure! Anywhere in particular? And it’s late as shit by the way.

Y/N: Yeah, sorry about that, just can’t sleep. I wanna go somewhere that’s loud and I can dance.

Oxford Princess: As much as I love you being a clubber girl, are you sure you’re good?

Y/N: No, but I’m over talking about it, and I’m way over thinking about it.

Oxford Princess: You’re almost out of there, babe.

Y/N: Yeah, but not quick enough.

You sigh as you close your eyes and walk out of the bathroom, tossing your phone down on the bed and letting your hair down.

“If you would’ve waited 5 more minutes, I would’ve joined you,” Lloyd growled, causing you to jump.

“Jesus! Don’t you fucking knock?!”

“I was hoping to catch a glimpse, Doll Face,” he smirks mischievously.

“What do you want?” you snap.

“Well, I was going to tell you that I want you to look over these plans, but now...,” he hums, looking you over and slowly making his way over to you. “I have to tell you, I’ve never needed to have my dick inside a cunt so fucking bad.”

“Where are the plans, Lloyd?” you all but whimper, backing up slowly.

“The sitting area,” he husks, pinning you against the wall, making sure you feel just how desperate he is for you.

“Then that’s where we need to be.”

“It can wait,” he mutters, slowly tracing the outline of the towel. “How many times did you watch it?”

“Four,” you confess with a silent moan.

“Fuck.”

“Get on your knees,” you demand, finally losing all will to fight. It catches him sightly off guard,and you smirk because you now have the upper hand. “I told you, I don’t reward my employees for being winy little brats. You wanna fuck me? Work for it. You can start by showing me just how sorry you are for being so fucking difficult. Get. On. Your. Knees,” you demand.

The growl that leaves his mouth almost has whining like the bitch in heat you are.

When he’s finally on his knees you pull the towel from around you and let it fall to the ground. “Apologize.”

“Jesus,” he groans before quickly burying his face between your legs.

“Fuck! There’s a good boy,” you moan, lulling your head back as you grip his hair.

Lloyd wastes no time showing you just how greedy he is. He’s quick to hook your right leg over his shoulder, moaning in response to you grinding your cunt against his face as he sucks and licks on your clit. The more swirls his tongue in circular motions on your clit, the tighter you grip his hair.

When he slide two fingers into your weeping cunt, you arch your back and hiss in pleasure. “Off to a very good start,” you mewl “knew you could be a good boy,” you praise.

His left hand slowly travels up your body, only stopping when it finds target and grabs your left tit, painfully kneading it between his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good! So close!” you cry out, your eyes clenching shut as you find yourself on the cusp of the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had.

He grips your tit tighter and adds a third finger to your cunt before fucking you faster. You look down to see his heated gaze on you, and you can tell that he can’t wait to bend you over the bed and fuck you until you’re a mess.

“Mr. Hansen, you should-oh, I’ll-”

“What?” he growls, breaking away for only a brief second before putting his mouth back where it belongs.

“I uh...you need to...-”

“WHAT?!” you snap, not liking being distracted from what you truly want.

“There’s umm, there’s movement and we should head out soon,” the IT guy stammers.

“Hear that, Doll Face? You’ve gotta give me what I want right now,” Lloyd breathes out before resuming his assault on your clit.

Maybe it’s because you’re desperate for a release, maybe it’s because someone’s watching, or maybe it’s just because Lloyd is so fucking good at eating your pussy, but your mind numbing orgasm hits in just a matter of seconds and you scream his name.

Lloyd licks and sucks on your clit, fucking you through it with his fingers, only stopping when you’ve come down from your high. He kisses your cunt before turning his attention to the IT guy. “I want all teams on this, send them ahead, we’ll follow behind shortly. We are not losing this guy. Make everyone aware that, if they fuck this up, they won’t only have to worry about punishment from Miss Y/L/N,” he warns darkly, his jawline tight as he catches his breath.

“Y-yes sir,” the IT guys stammers before practically running out of the room.

You groan when Lloyd removes his fingers and he slowly licks his way up your body. When he’s finally on his feet again, you’re both desperate for more. He leans in close, dipping down and roughly bites down on your neck, before soothing the sting lightly with his tongue.

“I can’t wait to rip you apart,” he whispers hotly into your ear, before nipping on your ear lobe. “Get dressed,” he demands before storming out of your room.

Oh, you’re definitely fucking Lloyd Hansen before you both get back to the states.

You’re quick to get dressed, ignoring the childish side that wants to tell everyone to go on without you and Lloyd so you two can destroy the suite.

Work comes first.

“I don’t feel as if I need to say this,” you start once you walk out of the room, grabbing your pistol and your work bag, “but if a word gets out about what you saw, you won’t speak another word. Understood?”

“Y-yes, of course,” the IT guy nods.

“Great,” you smile sweetly, “lets go.”

Lloyd can’t keep his eyes off of you the entire time the three of you are in the elevator, and his jawline is tight. Yeah, you’re excited that he wants to break your back in most amazing way, but this is why you don’t fuck your “students”. Lloyd is unhinged as it is. Him going into a “session” already worked up...well, it doesn’t seem like the best idea in the world.

“What do we know?” Lloyd demands as the three of you get in the van.

“He’s getting paranoid,” one of the mercenaries says “he asked for a meet up tonight, so he can ask for an earlier flight. He wants to get home to his wife and child.”

“He’s in for a shock tonight,” Lloyd scoffs and you roll your eyes.

Yeah, you’ll never want to pursue an actual relationship with him.

“Alright, Y/N and myself will take care of capturing Richard. I want all teams focused on taking out the buyers, by any means necessary. I want all mics on, so we hear every fucking thing, and no one makes a move before the deal is made.” Lloyd states. “Make it neat, make it quick, get it done.”

Once the van pulls up to the building, the special teams units wait until Richard is inside, before they slowly surround the building and make their way inside. While Lloyd gives instructions into the microphone, you jot down notes. You make it a point to be fair, and for the most part it’s not that bad. Granted, he really hasn’t gone into action yet, but he’s been a good boy...to an extent.

However, you can’t put that part in your notes. Especially since you’ll be telling on yourself too.

It sounds as if the deal’s about to go through before Richard starts to get hesitant.

“What do you mean it’s gonna take a couple of weeks for the money to come through? I was told I’d get it same day!” he shouts.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, quickly coming to the realization that your trip is about to be extended.

“There were some...complications,” the other man says, coolly. “Your money will-”

“No, I need that money! I was promised that money! There are other men who have offered more money!”

“Things happen, plans change,” the other guy says nonchalantly.

“Deal’s off!” Richard shouts.

“Fuck,” Lloyd mutters before talking into his earpiece “all teams go,” he sighs before looking at you. “Looks like we’ve got some extra damage control to care of, Doll Face,” he smirks at you, before sliding the van door open and you both quickly head out.

The special teams he put together are quick to take out the buyers, but Lloyd in all his chaotic beauty, is slow to take in Richard.

“Who the fuck are you people?!” Richard questions desperately as he’s forced into a metal chair by the mercenaries, before he’s bound to it.

“We’re the ones who are gonna make or break you, Sunshine,” Lloyd smiles darkly as your mercenaries grab the quivering man’s arms and pin them behind the chair. “We know you’ve got another buyer waiting for you, and it would be in your best interest to tell us who it is,” Lloyd smiles as he lays his tools out on the tables.

“There’s no one-”

“Now, I’m gonna give a chance to think about your statement before I do anything. Here’s the thing, Sunshine, I know someone’s interested in this information.”

“I’ve been lying to-”

“You sure you want to start our relationship off on a tale of bullshit, Sunshine?” Lloyd questions with a sadistic smile. “Honestly, it’s your call,” he shrugs, placing his jacket nicely on the back of the metal chair across from Richard. “You know, your wife and child-”

“Leave them out of this-”

“It’s not use making threats, because your wife is already out of the game. Now, your daughter, Liza-”

“Please don’t-”

“As long as you cooperate, you have noting to worry about,” Lloyd smiles sincerely. “Between you and I, I have no problem killing a child, but it does make it a little hard to sleep at night,” he sighs. “Which is why I know you’ll be more than happy to help me solve this mystery.”

“Italy,” Richard sobs.

“Well, that’s no fun, I didn’t get to try out my little torture trick,” Lloyd chuckles darkly. “Where in Italy?”

“I’m not sure,” Richard sobs pathetically.

“Looks like I will get to use it after all,” he smiles sadistically before flipping a switch.

You hadn’t noticed before, but looking down, you see four metal rods surrounding the chair the poor man is sitting in.

“Shit! Please! Please! I’m not sure where in-”

“Boring,” Lloyd sighs, turning the dial.

“It burns!”

“It’s only gonna get hotter until you tell me what I want to know. Richard, I’m gonna let you know something: I always get what I want. The longer you  make me wait, the more annoyed I become. Now,” he sighs coolly, sitting back in the chair “where in Italy are these people?”

“Please-”

Lloyd just shakes his head and sighs “boring,” as he turns up the dial.

Yeah, you’re definitely gonna have to work on the cruel and unusual torture part a lot, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t ready to fuck him right then and there.

It’s sad that it takes Lloyd Hansen for you to finally see the sexiness that comes with being unhinged.

“Venice! They’re in Venice!”

“Good boy, Richard,” he praises, turning down the dial only a little. “Now who are they and where are you meeting them?”

“Please, my daughter-”

“Will have a lot more than cancer to worry about if you don’t tell me what I want to know,” Lloyd growls, turning the dial up again.

“Please!”

“Where are you meeting them and who are they?” Lloyd demands, and you can tell he’s done being patient.

And that’s probably because he thought he’d balls deep in you by now.

“Caffé Florian!” the man sobs, and you’re almost ready to step in, but that would fuck up the assessment. “The Bernardi Brothers!”

“That’s a good boy. Now, I want you to text them and let them know the plans for tomorrow are still on. You’re going to lure them in and we will take it from there.”

“But my daughter-”

“Boring,” Lloyd growls, turning the dial up high.

“I’LL TELL THEM! I’LL TELL THEM!”

“Atta boy,” Lloyd smiles darkly, before flipping the switch off. “I’m proud of you, Richard,” he says sweetly, cupping the crying man’s face. “You’re doing really good. Now, piss me off or fuck me over...well, you don’t want to find out what happens when I’m angry. Get some rest,” he coos softly before turning to your mercenaries. “Clean all this shit up. Someone get me Frank on the phone.”

He storms out of the room and you let out a sigh of relief you weren’t aware you were holding on to. You really did think you were going to have to intervene.

You quickly follow him into the next room, quietly standing in the corner as you cross your arms over your chest, as Lloyd takes the phone from one of the mercenaries.

“Is it finished?” your Father asks as soon as he answers.

“The London part is. There’s another interested party in Venice,” Lloyd scowls.

“Is Y/N there?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” you respond softly.

“It’s your call.”

“No, it’s Lloyd’s call. This is his op. He’s in control until this is over.”

“You trust him?”

You look over at Lloyd who’s looking at you with a scowl and pure anger in his eyes. “Whether I trust him or not isn’t the issue here. This is his op. It all goes towards his assessment. Whatever lead he takes is the lead I’ll follow,” you shrug.

You don’t miss the extremely small glint of happiness in Lloyd’s eyes, though he’s quick to mask it.

“Y/N, this isn’t-”

“We’ve had this talk,” you harshly interrupt “I don’t give a fuck that CIA is up your ass. Honestly, it’s not my concern. I’m doing my job the way I’ve always done it, so you can either agree with me and have my back, or you can have someone else fix him. The choice is yours.”

Your Father sighs heavily “I’ll text you-”

“Lloyd”

“I’ll text Lloyd the information for where you all be staying until this is all sorted.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lloyd murmurs lowly.

The car ride back to the hotel is silent and tense, Richard whimpering in pain every time the van goes over a bump. Lloyd makes the mercenaries keep Richard with them, telling them to make him presentable for the meet up tomorrow, before sulking in the corner as the elevator doors close. By the time you, Lloyd, and the IT guy reach the suite, it’s painfully obvious that Lloyd has no intention of letting you get any work done.

“Take a walk around the city a few times,” Lloyd growls at the IT guy before slamming the door shut in his face. “Bedroom. Now,” he demands before starting walk to the room that you decided was yours.  

“I have to finish writing up this report,” you almost whimper, embarrassingly desperate for him to break you apart in the most pleasurable way.

“You can write about what a bad little boy I’ve been later, bedroom.”

“Lloyd-”

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you, Cupcake,” he growls, walking back over to you and gripping face tight. “Bedroom. Now.”

You’re quick to obey this time.

“Such a bossy little bitch until it’s time to fuck, huh?” he snarls, practically ripping your shirt off of you. “Fuck,” he husks as he looks you over “can’t wait to break in that perfect little cunt.”

“Lloyd-”

“What did you call me?”

The look in his lust blown pupils lets you know exactly what he wants. “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he smiles darkly. “Take off those fucking pants and get on your hands and knees for me on the bed.”

“Daddy I-”

“Keep making me repeat myself and we’re gonna have a real fuckin’ problem on our hands, Cupcake,” he warns darkly as he takes his shirt off.

It’s disgusting how badly you want to test that theory.

“Fuck,” you mutter, biting your lip as you look over his expansive chest, that’s covered in tattoos.

Yeah, it’s gonna be hard for you to quit him.

You’re slow to take off your pants and panties, loving the way you hold his attention, before slowly crawling onto the bed and arching your back.

“Such a desperate little whore,” he growls as he takes off his belt. In one swift move, your face is against the mattress and he’s binding your hands behind your back. “I take it you’re not a complete dumb cock slut, so I’m going to assume you’re on some sort of birth control.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good girl, because I’m going to fill this cunt until I’m satisfied, do you understand me?”

“Yes!”

Lloyd roughly grips your hair and forces you upright, and you whimper in response. “Yes who?”

“Yes Daddy!”

“And don’t you fucking forget it,” he warns ominously before releasing you.

Before you can catch your breath, you hear him on his knees before you feel his tongue against your soaked folds. You cry out in pleasure mindlessly gripping at nothing as he uses his thumb to tease your clit.

“Daddy...please!” you cry out, clenching your eyes shut. All he does in response is slap your ass, hard, and your toes curl. “PLEASE!”

“Do you even know what you’re begging for?” he growls breathlessly, before returning to his assault on your cunt.

“I need...need to cum, Daddy please! I need to cum!”

As his strokes on your clit speed up, he starts fucking you faster with his tongue. There’s barely any time to brace yourself as you cum hard on his tongue, only falling apart even more at the growl that leaves his mouth while he’s cleaning up the mess hes made.

“I had no idea you’d be this fucking desperate,” he grunts when he’s finally back on his feet, undoing the zipper on his pants before stepping out of them. “Should’ve fucked you while I was interrogating that poor bastard. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckles with a grunt before thrusting himself inside of you.

“FUCK!” you scream, loving the way he painfully stretches you out.

“Little dumb cock slut,” he taunts “are you crying?” he laughs, fucking into you relentlessly, while one hands moves your hair out of your face.

“Feels...feels amazing,” you sob, still clawing at nothing, since your hands are bound.

“I’ll pretend I care and ask once,” he taunts “do you love being choked or slapped?”

“It all feels amazing,” you whimper, just trying to hold on for whatever he has has in store for you. “Just want you to dumb me down. I want you to control me, Daddy!” you cry out as you clench around him.

“God, I wish you could see just how pathetic you look right now. How pathetic and stupid you look,” he laughs darkly. “It’s all for me though, right? No one else has ever made you feel like this, right, Doll Face?”

“No! No one ever has!”

“There’s a good girl.”

“Please! Please let me cum!!”

“I shouldn’t fucking let you! Not with how much of a cunt you’ve been since day one!”

“I’m so sorry, Daddy! I’m so fucking...fuck!”

“Can’t even apologize correctly, but I should let you cum? That doesn’t sound right,” he chuckles, fucking you harder as he grips your hair. “To me, it doesn’t sound as if you’ve learned your lesson.”

“I can be such a good girl!”

“You can be such a good slut if it means you’ll get your way,” he huffs as his movements become erratic, his hand traveling down from your hair to your neck before he grips it tight.

“Daddy! Daddy...Daddy please!”

“Is my stupid little cock slut that desperate to cum?”

“YES!”

“Jesus, give it to me! Give it to me right now!” he demands

You scream his name as your orgasm washes over you, your legs almost giving out, as you sob in pleasure. You feel his arm around your waist as he shoots his load into you, and you practically collapse onto the bed.

“Oh, look at that,” Lloyd taunts, his breathing heavy “your Father still hasn’t sent any instructions,” he continues and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Guess I’ll just have to keep myself entertained.”

“God yes,” you mindlessly beg, as your nails faintly scratch against you wrists in a faint form of release.

Lloyd has you two more times before his phone finally goes off.

“Yeah?” he answers breathlessly, his cock still deep inside you. “The stewardess is more demanding than I thought she’d be....Y/N is more than likely asleep, Frank...I don’t know, you’d have to ask her...I don’t know, she’s been pretty upset since she killed the wife...once again, you’ll have to ask her...well, when I wake her, what do you want me to tell her?...Alright, I’ll...fuck,” he grunts as you start throwing your ass back against his hips.

Your way of letting him know that hes been on the phone long enough.

“Yeah no, nothing,” he grunts, gripping your hair tight as a warning, and you bite your bottom lip to suppress a moan. “Wheels up in an hour, I got it,” he grunts as you continue your movements. “Gotta go, someone’s a little needy,” he scoffs before hanging up. “Needy little whore,” he growls, slapping your ass hard. “Said you’d be a good girl!”

“Need you to fill me up again, Daddy,” you whimper pathetically.

“We gotta get ready to go, Doll Face,” he grunts as he pulls out of you, finally untying your hands “so, you’re gonna have to be a good little whore and cum one more time for Daddy,” he demands lowly as he harshly gets you on your back. “You can do that for me, right?” he taunts with a devilish smirk before thrusting himself inside of you.

“Fuck! Yes, Daddy!” you mewl, clawing at his chest.

“Jesus, Y/N!” he yells, his grip on you tight as he fucks you hard and fast. “You walk around in those tight little outfits, tits practically bursting out as you fucking torture people, and you made me wait to put you in your fucking place?”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Daddy,” you whimper as he dips down and starts biting on your neck. “Shit! You make me feel so fucking good!”

“I know I do,” he chuckles darkly before licking up your neck before biting down on your earlobe, hard.

“Daddy please! Can I...I’m so fucking close!” you mewl as you claw up his back. You know you’re digging deep and just maybe drawing bits of blood, but it only seems to turn him on more.

You’re definitely not what he expected.

“Fuck, you squeeze me so fucking good!,” he husks in your ear, as one of his hands travel between your legs. “Give it to me right fucking now!”

“Ahh fuck! LLOYD!” you cry out as squirting hard as your orgasm consumes you, causing you to fade out of reality for just a moment.

“JESUS CHRIST!” he exclaims, filling you to the brim with his cum as he collapses on top of you.

The both of you of you lay there, breathing heavy, and completely blissed out. As you try to come down from whatever cloud you’re on (cause you’re way past cloud 9), your mind can truly only focus on one thing; you’re fucked.

You’re nowhere near ready to give up Lloyd, and by the way he just fucked you for over an hour, he’s feeling the same way. You want to be angry with yourself, because you set rules for a reason, but for the first time in forever, you finally feel content. You’ve finally achieved the release you’ve been craving and that has you feeling like it was all worth it.

“I think we fucked up by not stopping after the last time,” you giggle and Lloyd chuckles.

“The way this cunt squeezes me? Couldn’t stop, Doll Face,” he breathes. “You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Good,” he smirks down at you after he pushes himself up “cause I took it easy on you this time.”

“Well, now I’m disappointed in you.”

“Oh, I’ll make it up to you when we get back,” he smirks mischievously before dipping down and kissing you deeply.

Another one of your rules is broken, but you can’t stop and don’t want to. Yeah, Lloyd Hansen is an arrogant piece of shit, but you now you know why. He’s good at what he does. Everything he does. He’s arrogant because he’s confident, and as you two get lost in one another with this kiss, you realize just how hard it’s gonna be for you to stop.

“Lloyd, we have to go,” you giggle as he kisses down your body.

“One more taste, Doll Face,” he mumbles before he’s on his knees and in-between your legs.

Needless to say; you’re both late to get to the plane on time.

However, you slept better than you ever have on the flight.

By the time you land down in Venice, you’re more than ready to finish up the trip and call it a day. You all set up shop in the mansion your Father has set up for you all. You do your best to write up your assessment on Lloyd, but you can feel his eyes on you.

When you finally bother to meet his gaze, you can tell that he gives less than a fuck about whatever you’re writing up about him. Which is why you’re currently bent over the sink in one of the bathrooms.

“Daddy,” you whimper as he fucks into you relentlessly “we have a mission.”

“Shouldn’t have worn this skirt, Doll Face,” he pants as his grip tightens on you. “Jesus, I can’t wait to get you in my fucking bedroom!”

“Shut up!” you moan softly.

“That’s right, we can’t have anyone knowing.”

“My Father will kill you, Lloyd. You wanna die before you fuck my ass?”

“Jesus!”

“I didn’t fucking think so, so shut up!”

“So fucking bossy!” he growls before wrapping a hand around your neck and you whimper in delight “gonna fucking handcuff you to my headboard and fuck you stupid, like the mindless little cock slut you are!”

“Daddy!” you cry out, clenching around him.

“Now who needs to be fucking quiet?”

“Need your cum! I need it so bad, please!” you beg pathetically, as quietly as you can.

“I should make you wait,” he teases as he slaps your clit with his free hand. “God, you’re such a fuckin’ bitch! I should make you wait till we’re back in states!”

“Daddy! That’s so mean!”

“It’s what you fuckin’ deserve, you little slut.”

“I’ve made you feel so good, Daddy! You’ve filled my pussy so many times, haven’t you? I let you fuck me in all the ways you want, you should let me cum!” you plead.

“Not in all the ways I want, Doll Face.”

“How else can I please you? I’ll do whatever you want!” you promise with a choked sob as his grip around your neck tightens.

“I can’t fucking get enough,” he growls into your ear before biting the shell of it hard. “You’ll make it up to me when we get back.”

“I promise!”

“Cum for me you little fucking whore! Cum for Daddy!”

“Lloyd!” you whimper as you find yourself getting lost in another mind shattering orgasm.

You’re not even aware that you’ve squirted all over the floor.

“When we get back,” he whispers hotly against your ear “that fucking perfect ass is mine.”

“You promise?”

“Keep it up and I’ll send everyone else out while we stay here and play around,” he warns and you giggle. “Now, get on your knees and clean off my cock. These pants were expensive and I don’t need your slut cum ruining them.”

“Daddy!”

“Do it, you filthy little slut.”

You quickly learn that, when it comes to impulse control, you have very little when it comes to sex with Lloyd. You and Lloyd spend an additional 30 minutes in the bathroom since he decides that he needs to teach you the difference between a clean up and a blowjob.

“Where are we at?” he asks, his tone menacing, when you two finally make your way back into the SIT room that’s been set up.

“They text me about 20 minutes ago asking me to leave earlier for the pickup,” Richard trembles.

“And you said?”

“It’s fine and I’m on my way.”

“Good boy,” Lloyd smiles at him before turning his attention to everyone else “lets move out!”

You’re quick to change into a pair of slim black pants and a black t-shirt, before packing your pistol and handgun into your bag and making your way out.

You do your best to ignore your throbbing, yet exhausted, pussy as you watch how closely Lloyd pays attention to every bit of information Despite his control issues, he’s very dedicated and committed to his work. That’s not the problem though. That’s never been the problem. The problem is that he loves what he does so much that he throws himself too much into it and looses himself. Lloyd Hansen isn’t a man that’s completely gone, he’s just a hard one to reel back in.

“I want these fuckers taken care of before lunch,” Lloyd tells everyone, pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

“What do you want us to do about the civilians?”

“Collateral damage if it gets out of hand,” he shrugs.

“Lloyd,” you warn, cutting your eyes at him.

“I’m in charge-”

“Until I think you’ve crossed a line. No one does shit until you think of a way to get everyone out safely. No mess, no scene, make it fast, keep it clean. We’ve gone over this,” you snap.

The van is quiet and you can tell everyone is afraid to say or do anything as you and Lloyd glare daggers at each other.

“Send Richard in then declare an emergency and tell everyone to evacuate. Take the bastards out then move out,” he demands, his angry glare never leaving you.

“But what about-” Richard starts.

“Do you really think now is a good time?” Lloyd asks coldly, shooting him a glare, and you feel your heart break.

Richard really believed that he would survive all of this and be able to get back to his daughter.

Poor fucking bastard.

Soon enough, everyone is filing out and all that’s left is you, Lloyd, and the techs.

“Come here,” Lloyd demands darkly.

“Lloyd-”

“Don’t make things worse for yourself when we get back, Cupcake,” he warns “now come here and sit on my lap. I want you to watch this with me.”

You know you shouldn’t, but can’t stop yourself as you slowly make your way over to him and sit on his lap. He pulls you close and grips your hair tight, and you bite your lip to suppress your moan.

“I should fuck you in front of everyone to show you who’s really in control,” he growls angrily into your ear.

“You have control in the bedroom, I have control on the field. I know you’re not stupid enough to forget that.”

“This is my op-”

“Until I feel like you’re taking it too far, Hansen,” you bite, grinding your ass against his very hard cock. “Don’t forget, Sweet Boy, I love to fuck just as much as I love to be fucked.”

“Jesus Y/N!”

“Now be a good and obedient little boy, or you won’t like what I have in store for you when we get back.”

“Y/N-”

“You think I won’t rip your pants off right now and fuck you in front of everyone? You think I won’t claim control in both the bedroom and the field?” you question, gripping his thighs as you continue to grind your ass against him.

“Doll Face,” Lloyd moans.

“There’s my good boy. Now, behave and pay attention to your mission. If I think you’ve done a good enough job, I might just let you fuck me on the flight back home,” you taunt as he groans, his hold on you getting tighter. “Now, can I resume my seat or do you need me to let you cum like the pathetic little shit you are?”

“Please,” he moans

“Please what? Finish your sentences, dumb boy.”

“Please let me cum!”

“I thought your pants were too expensive to get cum on?” you tease, picking up your pace.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, so fucking sorry!” he rasps as he buries his face into your back.

“So fucking pathetic, I shouldn’t let you cum at all. Not with how much of a spoiled little brat you’ve been. Wasn’t enough to let you control me in private, you had to try and throw your weight around when it comes to work?”

“I won’t do it again,” he whimpers.

“You fucking better not,” you moan, getting close to your own release. “Now be a good boy and cum for me so we can both get back to work.”

“Y/N!”

“What’s my fucking name?” you growl, fighting off your own release.

“Mommy!”

“Say it again, you ignorant little shit!”

“Fuck! Mommy!”

“Good boy, now fucking cum for me,” you demand as you lull your head back.

“Fuck!” he groans and his grip on you lets you know that he came hard.

“Sweet, sweet boy,” you moan as your relief washes over you.

It’s pathetic how sick the two of you are.

“Now, be a good little boy and watch the monitors. You’re supposed to be working,” you breathe out.

“Y/N,” Lloyd moans as he runs his hand though your hair, the tip of his nose grazing the side of your neck before he bites down on it.

“Lloyd, go do your job,” you warn, with a moan.

“Yes ma’am,” he husks.

You slowly get up and sit back down in your seat, while he readjusts himself.

“If anyone utters a word about what just happened, to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you myself. Understand?” Lloyd questions menacingly.

Everyone says ‘yes sir’ in unison and you can’t stop the smirk that comes to your face.

The hit goes off easy enough, Richard being the first to die, and they’re no civilian casualties. While you’re happy enough that everything went according to plan (for the most part), your heart still breaks for Liza. Yeah, she’ll be dead before the end of the month, but still. Both parents? Hell, you got left with the worst one, but at least you have one. You make a silent promise to yourself that you’ll stay by her side until the very end.

“I’m working, Sweet Boy,” you tell Lloyd as you feel his intense gaze upon you.

Since you both have gotten on the plane, you’ve held all of his attention, and you almost feel sorry for the poor stewardess who wants a repeat of last time.

“Then close your legs,” he practically whimpers.

“I thought I was doing a courtesy,” you snicker.

“Not when I can see it but can’t touch it.”

“Who said you can’t get on your knees and satisfy the both of us?”

“Oh? You don’t care anymore?”

“Everyone has it on high authority to not say a word about what we do, so I don’t know why you think I’ll be shy about anything.”

“Oh, I get it, you’re mad at me,” he smirks.

“I’m not mad about anything, Lloyd.”

“You’re not happy with me? Did I fail your little assessment?”

“You already knew you weren’t going to pass.”

“I wasn’t nice enough to Richard?”

“They had to peel bits of his skin off of the chair, Lloyd.”

“That’s more his fault than mine,” he shrugs “come over here and show me what I did wrong.”

“Lloyd.”

“Yes, Mommy?” he pouts.

“Fuck!”

“Sit on my lap so I can see what I did wrong.”

“No, because I actually have to get work done.”

“Who says I won’t let you?”

“My bare pussy.”

“I’ll stop the minute you tell me to.”

“Lloyd.”

“Be a good girl and sit on my lap, and I’ll be a good boy and listen to your criticism,” he smirks.

Once again, you find yourself doing what you shouldn’t and straddle Lloyd.

“Daddy,” you moan as his fingers tease your clit.

“No, you’re supposed to be telling me how I can improve,” he teases before biting down on your collar bone.

“You’re too mean, Daddy,” you moan “you’ve gotta gain control over your impulses, and watch the things you say.”

“Will that help me pass your little class?”

“It’s the only way you’ll pass, Daddy,” you gasp as he slides two fingers into your soaked cunt. “Gotta do better.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

“The...fuck,” you whimper “the CIA isn’t gonna let you be their little whipping boy.”

“Maybe I wanna keep being your good little boy.”

“Lloyd,” you moan, lulling your head back as you cum on his fingers.

“You look so fucking pathetic,” he chuckles darkly. “I want to fill your pussy with my cock so fucking bad,” he groans, as you grind your wet cunt against his clothed cock.

“You said you’d be a good boy,” you whimper.

“You are so fucking sexy when you’re trying to hold on to control,” he chuckles.

“I swear to God, I’ll fuck you in front of everyone,” you growl, regaining some composure, as his hands travel up.

“Shut the fuck up and taste yourself on my fingers.”

“No,” you moan.

“No?”

“You need to remember who’s really in charge,” you snap.

“You’re the one grinding your bare and soaked cunt against my cock, Cupcake.”

“I can stop right now, if you wanna keep being a little shit.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns with a low growl.

“Then fucking behave,” you demand before slapping him hard across the face.

“You little bitch!”

“Keep it up and I’ll do it again.”

“No you won’t.”

You slap him again and his grip on your thighs tighten “I’m not afraid of a spoiled little shit, Lloyd,” you groan as you start to undo his pants. “I really think you just want me to fuck you. That’s why you’re being such a spoiled little fuck.”

“I’ve already had your perfect little cunt, and you all but promised me that ass-”

“I promised you my ass when you were being a good boy,” you correct as you take him out of his pants.

“Oh fuck!”

“Why should I do anything to make you happy now? You’re being such a little shit,” you moan as you adjust yourself, before sinking yourself down on him.

“Shit!”

“No one makes you feel as good as I do,” you moan as you ride him, “ so why should I reward you?”

“Cupcake!”

“In fact, I should make you fuck me in all the ways I love!”

“You should, Mommy!”

“Look at you,” you scoff as you pick up your pace “so fucking pathetic, it’s embarrassing,” you chuckle.

“Watch it, Cupcake,” he warns as he grips your throat.

“Tread lightly, Lloyd,” you warn as you pick up your pace “don’t want you to lose out on any of your privileges.”

“Such a fucking cunt!”

“Want me to get off of your cock right now?”

“Try it and you won’t be able to walk straight for a month!”

“Promise Daddy?”

“You dumb little cock slut!”

“Mi-Miss Y/L/N,” one of your mercenaries stammer.

“How may I help you?” you moan as Lloyd starts slowly kissing down your neck.

“Your Father...he’s on the phone and-”

“Is it important? I’m in the middle of a lesson,” you growl as Lloyd grips your waist painfully tight.

“He wants to know about the mission and-”

“Tell him I’m sleeping and I’ll call him back,” you whimper as Lloyd starts to take control.

“He says the CIA-”

“I don’t give a single fuck!” you cry out, cumming hard for Lloyd.

“Tell him she’ll call him back,” Lloyd demands menacingly, gripping your ass before standing up and you wrap your legs around him.

“Daddy!”

“I know, Doll Face,” he chuckles before kissing your collar bone. “So fucking needy.”

“Don’t act like you fucking aren’t,” you command as you grip his face. “I’ll make this the longest fucking flight of your life.”

“I wish you would,” he smirks as he makes his way to the bathroom.

The minute you two are in the bathroom, Lloyd pulls out, sets you down, forcefully turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, and thrusts himself inside of you.

“You know,” he husks as he thrusts into you hard and fast “this has got to be the best little snatch I’ve ever been in,” he praises.

“Of course it is,” you whimper, gripping the sink as you drop your head, trying to keep yourself upright.

“Arrogant, aren’t we?” he chuckles as he grips your neck tight, forcing your gaze on the mirror. “Want you to watch, Doll Face. Watch yourself come apart on my cock again,” he whispers against the the shell of your ear before licking it.

“Lloyd,” you whimper, clenching around him, desperate for a release.

You don’t know why you can’t get enough of him. He’s not someone you’d usually be attracted to, his personality alone makes you want to punch him in the dick. But there’s just something....something that makes you want him to use you as his own personal sex toy. Of course, that’s until he steps out of line.

“Give it to me, Doll Face!” he grunts as his thrusts become erratic.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, cumming hard for what feels like the millionth time.

How you two aren’t spent already has you completely at a loss for words.

Lloyd moans into your hair as he fills you up. “Best fucking pussy,” he breathes and you chuckle.

“You need to rest and I have work to do,” you sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighs, kissing your neck a few times before pulling out with a groan.

You both get yourselves cleaned up and ready in silence, before Lloyd opens the door for you and you walk out. The look in everyone’s eyes has you ready to burst out laughing. You’re more than sure that your Father told them to report back to him if you and Lloyd do anything you shouldn’t be doing, but you also know they’re all deathly afraid of you, and probably Lloyd too, since they saw him give a man third degree burns and enjoy it way too much.

Yeah, your Father is scary, but he created a monster much worse than him, in some ways.

For the rest of the flight Lloyd sleeps on the seat across from you, and you fill out your evaluation form on him. No, fucking him a million times wasn’t in your best interest, especially since you still have to train him for the rest of the month, but you have a feeling that it helped. Lloyd is slightly more agreeable when he has something (or someone) to take his anger out on. You being just as fucked up as him in a sense, makes it a little easier for him take orders and not be as psychotic as he is.

Now, if only you could find something besides your body to get him to stay in line.

By the time the plane lands, you’re more than ready to get off of it. You’re barely sure what day it is.

“You don’t ignore my calls,” your Father barks the minute you step onto the tarmac.

“This can wait until tomorrow,” you mutter, walking right past him.

“Y/N-”

“I’ve been out of the country and away from my bed for what feels like 3 days. Maybe it has been, I don’t fucking know at this point. I don’t know what fucking time it is, but it’s dark outside, so I assume I’m supposed to be sleeping at some point, but I probably won’t because I’m gonna be all fucked up for a few days. Whatever you want to rake me over the coals about can wait until tomorrow!” you snap, finally bothering to meet his angry gaze.

His gaze is still angry, but he sighs in defeat. “I want you both in tomorrow at 7.”

“Of course, why would we get to sleep in?” you mumble.

“Fitzroy and Cahill are gonna be there tomorrow.”

“What the fuck for?”

“They wanna know how its going.”

“It hasn’t even been a full week!”

“Not my call.”

“Fucks sake,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “Yeah fine, see you at 7,” you mutter as both you and Lloyd make your way over to your car.

“Why is he going with you?”

“Jesus, what are you? A cop?! I had him meet me at my house and I drove us both here. His car is at my place.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m too fucking tired to argue with you. I’m too tired, I’m tired of fighting with you in general, and I don’t feel like doing it. I’ll you tomorrow,” you mutter before getting into your car. You let out a deep sigh and look over at Lloyd, whose gaze on you is intense. “You ready to play around some more?”

It’s pathetic that you two aren’t sick of each other yet.

By the time you pull into your drive and get out of your car, Lloyd is all over you and you don’t want him to stop.

“Don’t think I can wait for us to get to my house, Doll Face,” he rasps against your lips as you two make out against your car.

“I don’t want to wait,” you whimper, undoing his pants.

“Something tells me that you’re a woman with handcuffs.”

“I’ve got all the toys, Daddy,” you smirk up at him.

The minute you get you two into the house, Lloyd picks you up and carries you to your bedroom.

“You may not be able to walk straight for a couple days,” he smirks down at you as he takes off his shirt, and you bite your lip to suppress a moan. “I’m sure you won’t mind it though.”

Lloyd isn’t gentle with you at all and, of course, that just makes you even more excited. Sure, you both need to be asleep, but primal need you two have for one another won’t let either of you stop.

Or think straight.

“Fuck! Daddy, you promised!” you whimper as he pushes the setting on vibrator higher, only causing you to pull tighter against your handcuffs.

“Oh, we’re getting there, Doll Face. There’s something I want you to do for me,” he smirks, watching your legs shake.

“How can I please you?”

“Fuck, you really are a little cock slut aren’t you?” he muses as strokes himself. “Wet Daddy’s cock with pretty little mouth of yours,” he demands, roughly gripping your face.

Your only response is to open your mouth wide for him.

“Who would’ve thought that a controlling little cunt like yourself, could be such a good girl?” he grunts as he starts fucking your mouth. You close your eyes and moan at his words, getting more and more worked by him face fucking you and the vibrator between your legs. “Tsk tsk tsk,” he taunts before pinching your nipple, only causing you more pleasure. “You know better, eyes on Daddy,” he demands.

You look up at him with blurry eyes, feeling your release build up. You ball your hands into fists as your toes curl, trying to hold off your release. You didn’t wait for him to tell you to cum the last time, which why you’re in the position you’re in now.

“Dumb little whore needs to cum, doesn’t she?” he taunts and all you can do is moan. “Learned your lesson this time?” When you let out another muffled moan, just a little bit louder, he laughs at you, and you hate that you’re not even the slightest bit embarrassed. “Cum for me, Doll Face.”

You cum hard, squirting all over your bed and Lloyd lets out a low and feral growl.  

“Jesus, gotta get in that ass now,” he grunts, gripping your face and taking his cock out of your mouth. He’s quick to throw aside the vibrator, and you honestly don’t give a fuck if hes broken it or not. “Get on your fuckin knees,” he demands.

You obey as quickly as you can, your arms crossing as turn yourself over. You do your best to grip the bars on your head board, because you know this is going to finish you off.

“I’ve waited so patiently for this perfect little ass,” Lloyd growls as he opens up the bottle of lube, applying some to your asshole, before starting to stroke himself. “Such a wild little thing,” he grunts before slapping your ass hard.

“Fuck,” you hiss, throwing your head back in pleasure. “Daddy please!”

“Tell me how bad you want it, Doll Face,” he whispers harshly as he hovers over you.

“I’m fucking desperate for it,” you whimper like the bitch in heat that you are.

“Dumb little cock slut,” he chuckles before pushing himself inside the one place you’ve both been dying for him to fuck. “Jesus, Y/N!”

“Lloyd!” you cry out, your whole body writing in pleasure. “God yes!”

“Fuck, this ass is amazing,” he growls, gripping your hips tight, pumping into you hard from behind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Can’t get enough of you,” he grunts.

He dips down and starts to bite and suck on your shoulder, as your toes curl. You start whining as his tongue starts lightly tracing over your back, and you know you’re gonna cum soon.

“What do you need, baby?” Lloyd husks as you grip the bars tight.

“Need...need to...fuck, you feel so fucking good! I need to cum, please!”

“Make a mess for me, Doll Face,” he demands, before kissing your shoulder blade.

“Fuck, Lloyd!” you whimper as your relief washes over you.

“Fucking amazing, best little slut I’ve ever had,” he moans, and you can tell he’s close.

“Are you gonna fill my ass, Daddy?

“Not until I make you cum for me again,” he growls, picking up his pace.

“Lloyd,” you whimper, your toes curling yet again as he kisses up and down your back. “Never felt this good.”

“Yeah, baby? Best fuck you ever had?”

“Fuck Lloyd, yes! Fucking best ever!”

“Then show me,” he demands with a growl. “Show me how good it feels and cum for me one more time,” he groans as one of his hands travel down between your legs, teasing your swollen and overstimulated bud.

“Shit!”

“I know you can cum for me one more time, Doll Face! You’ve been so good for me!”

“I’m so fucking close!” you sob, throwing your head back in ecstasy, as he grips you tighter and holds you close to his chest.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Doll Face,” he groans, pressing his forehead to the back of your head. “Fucking gorgeous and the best little slut. You take everything so well! Now, be the good little girl and give Daddy what he wants,” he practically begs.

“GOD!” you scream as your orgasm washes over you so hard, your legs almost give out completely, and you fade out of reality.

“Shit, Y/N!” he grunts, spilling his seed into you as he tries to ride out both your highs.

The room is silent except for you and Lloyd’s labored breathing, and you try and think about everything you’ve done with him over the last few days.

How much you’ve broken your own rules.

“Shit,” he groans as he pulls out and you hiss in dissatisfaction at the emptiness you feel. “Fuck,” he chuckles, and you can tell you’re probably all marked up.

The minute he undoes the handcuffs, you collapse onto the bed, which is soaked (more your fault than Lloyd’s). You can already feel the soreness starting up, and you know that Lloyd was true to his word and you will be walking funny for the next few days.

“Anything I should have a heads up for, for tomorrow?” he asks as he gets dressed?

“No, we talked about everything already. You didn’t do great, but you didn’t do terrible. Just gotta find your ‘in the middle’,” you yawn, not even bothering to get under the covers. You look up at him, your eyes barely open, as your hair slightly falls in front of your face, and he smirks down at you.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll Face,” he whispers softly before dipping down to kiss your forehead, before walking out.

You don’t like the happiness you feel at the small gesture.

You look over at your alarm clock that reads 1:30am, and groan in frustration. So much for a decent night’s sleep. You’re quick to set your alarm and pull on one of your college crew necks that’s lying on the floor from the mess you made before you left for your mission, and slowly drift off to sleep.

As fade out of consciousness, you tell yourself that whatever you were feeling towards Lloyd is over and done with now. He’s claimed every part of your body that he can, repeatedly, and you want nothing else. You needed something to take the edge off, he gave it to you, and that was that. From here on out, he’s nothing more than your final job.

Oh, how you love to lie to yourself.

**

When your alarm goes off, you feel like you’ve only blinked. You lay in bed and wonder just how much you really care about making anyone happy, before reminding yourself that your work always comes first. You’re slow to shower and get ready, and there’s no real speed to get to work. Once you arrive at headquarters, you take a deep breath and lay your head against your steering wheel.

‘After this month, you’re done with all of it,’ you mentally tell yourself as try to build yourself up to go in there and keep up the facáde you always wear.

As you make your way into the building, you feel a a pair of eyes on you, and without even looking you know exactly who they belong to.

“Hansen,” you greet, as you continue walking, “is everyone here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m late.”

“I think your Father was expecting you to be early.”

“Well, I had a bit of a late night,” you smirk as you both approach the meeting room.

“Might explain why you’re walking a little funny,” he teases, cocking an eyebrow.

“Might,” you giggle before opening the door. “Good morning everyone,” you sigh; your mood and tone changing instantly as you make your way into the room.

“You’re late,” your Father barks.

“No, you came in early and stupidly expected me to do the same. That falls on you, not me,” you smile sarcastically at him. “As for everyone else, hello,” you smile at Fitzroy, Cahill, Carmichael, and a woman you’ve never seen before. ‘Oh, someone new? She’s about to be annoying as shit,’ you think to yourself.

“Good Morning,” Ms. Cahill smile towards you “how’d the mission go?”

“As well as expected, slightly better,” you shrug with a sigh as you take your papers out of your folders. “Yeah, there’s a lot to work on, but they’re also a lot of strengths that need to be considered. You want the good or the bad first?”

“The bad, I guess,” Fitzroy sighs.

“His main issue is his cruel torture methods and his lack of regard for authority.”

“Give me a fucking break,” Lloyd mutters with a scoff.

“As he just demonstrated, he and authority don’t do well, unless he’s the one running the show. That being said,” you quickly amend “when left in control, he leads with a smart and stern fist. Though his methods are a little cruel, and sometimes heartless, they’re good. Really good. When he has a task, he’s dedicated and he’s laser focused. He’s extremely good at what he does, I just need to get him to tone it down a notch,” you shrug, sliding your files over to Cahill and Fitzroy.

“We want to see him in action on our own,” the young woman you’ve never met says. “We need to track down a man who stole some...documents from us.”

“And you are?”

“I’m Suzanne Brewer.”

“Well, Suzanne, he’s not ready yet. It hasn’t even been a week.”

“You just said-”

“Yeah, he did pretty good under supervision. He’s not ready to be on his own.”

“We want you on this mission with him,” Carmichael interjects and Lloyd shoots him a glare.

“I think the fuck not,” you scoff, leaning back in your chair. “Not me, not at all.”

“Y/N-”

“Did you tell them that I’d agree to this?” you snap at your Father, whose somehow sunk further into his chair.

“I said that you might be willing to depending on-”

“He fucking lied to you all, because I will not be working for the CIA ever again,” you laugh incredulously.

“You don’t want to help your government?” Fitzroy asks, his temper starting to show.

“You know damn well that I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because fuck the government and fuck you!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air as both, Lloyd and Carmichael stifle a laugh. “The last time I helped out your little crew of minions, I got burned. I got burned, bad. I won’t be making that mistake ever again.”

“This is a chance to-” Suzanne starts.

“SHUT UP, SUZANNE!” you snap, deciding that you no longer need to keep your cool.

“Y/N-”

“It’s like you can’t stop yourself from being a piece of shit!” you snap at your Father. “How can you agree to something, for me, without even asking me?! With him?!” you practically scream, pointing at Fitzroy.

“I just thought-”

“No, no you fucking didn’t, so don’t say you did! Unless your next fucking statement is, ‘I just thought of myself’!”

“Now is not the time for one of your family squabbles,” Fitzroy sighs, and it takes all you have to not jump across the table and wring his neck.

“I’m sorry, the last time I “worked” for the CIA, wasn’t that whole thing supposed to be under your supervision? Training your precious Sierra Six? With the partner you appointed me?” you question hotly, and now Fitzroy is the one sinking into his chair. “I’m sorry, I can’t fucking hear you!”

“I’ve apologized for that-”

“Your apologies don’t mean shit! None of your apologies mean shit to me! Listen, I know that at the end of the fucking month, I’m out! However, until that time comes, I do my job the way I’ve always done it! No interference, no suggestions, no one in my fucking ear about what I should do, none of it! This is my job and it’s mine for a reason! If you don’t like the way I do things, find someone else! I’m not my Father! I’m not going to change my methods because it makes you all uncomfortable, so you can take what I have to offer or leave it!” you bite, meeting everyone’s gaze. “I’ll leave you all here to think about it,” you huff before standing up and storming out.

You faintly hear your Father call after you, but you don’t care to stop. You don’t care about anything. It’s bad enough that this is the second time that your Father has tried to stop you from doing it the best way you know how, in an attempt to save an outsider’s ego, but for Fitzroy to pull that shit and pretend that he doesn’t know why you’re acting the way you are?

Once upon a time, you were Fitzroy’s favorite. He thought you were funny and witty, he loved that you didn’t take shit from anyone, and he loved the fact that you always stood your ground; no matter what and against everyone.

Then a mission went very wrong and your heart got broken, bad. Yeah, he tried to apologize, and for the most part, you didn’t blame him. Still the damage was done and a rift formed.

“Are you okay?” Lloyd asks as he makes his way into your office as you wipe your eyes.

“Happy. So fucking happy,” you sob, trying to pull yourself together. “I guess they’re all afraid of me if they sent you in.”

“Basically.”

“What did they decide?”

“They won’t try to control the choices you make anymore...”

“But?”

“Suzanne’s going to stay until the end of the month.”

“Fitzroy?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because fuck him,” you mutter, swiveling in your chair and looking out at the view from your window. “I take it our next mission won’t be for the CIA?”

“No, we’re not moving past this that quickly,” he practically demands.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you mutter, still gazing out the window and feeling slightly bad.

“What exactly am I in the middle of right now?”

“Everyone wants to control me right now, basically.”

“Y/N-”

“Once upon a time, my Father and I trusted Fitzroy, mind you, I only trusted him because my Father did. Nonetheless, Fitzroy and I became close. I talked to him about everything, because I could never talk to my Father about anything. Whatever he said was law and my Father hated that, because I never had the same faith and trust him that I did with Fitz. Anyway, long story short, the last time I worked with Fitzroy and the CIA, was the last time I was in a real relationship. I let my guard down for just a moment and it...it backfired,” you sigh, wiping your eyes. “I just took the guy as just my temporary partner. I didn’t expect to fall in love, nor did I want to, but I did. Then...”

“Then?”

“Then everything went to shit. I was engaged, my Father actually liked the guy...the only person who saw through all of his shit was Taj, which is why she’s the only person who I truly trust to this day. Anyway, things were going great until he slipped up. He brought up Sierra Six, Carl Gentry, at the most random time, and that’s what set everything in motion. What did him in was that he was the way he would question me about him, it was never like he was jealous but more like he was looking for information, and that gave him away completely. So, fast forward to everything hitting the fan, I was the one to take out my own fiancé out, 2 months before our wedding,” you smile weakly, swiveling around to meet Lloyd’s gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You’re looking at me like you need to take care of me.”

“I am not.”

“I’m a big girl, Lloyd. Whatever issues I have at this point, are my own. Anyway, Fitz felt like I blamed him and I don’t know, maybe I did. I didn’t think I was, but there was very much a change on my end. We started to drift apart, which made my Father happy, and it eventually led to an argument at my Father’s house. Voices were raised, feelings were hurt, and eventually a fist fight broke out that I had to break-up. Fitz said some nasty things to my Father about how my Mother is better off dead because she doesn’t have to deal with him, and I told him that we all needed to call it a night because enough’s been said and done. He took that as me taking my Father’s side and said Matthew was the lucky one in all of this because he doesn’t have to deal with me and my shitty family. I, in all my glory, snapped like the crazy piece of shit I am and my Father ended up having to shield Fitz from me and get him out of the house. Ever since then, he’s been nothing more to me than a pain in my ass,” you sigh, looking down at fingers; fiddling them to try and fight off the tears that you weren’t in the mood to cry,

“Your Father seems to be on better terms with him now,” Lloyd comments, and you can tell that he senses how much you want to change the subject of you and Fitz.

“Fitzroy works for the government, so he can offer my Father a lot of money. My Father likes making a lot of money. They made up pretty quickly.”

“You and Fitz?”

“I don’t hate the man, but I wouldn’t be upset if I never had to see him again,” you shrug.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be be so open with me, honestly.”

“Well, you’ve fucked on a plane full of people and in every hole I own, so,” you shrug as Lloyd bursts out laughing “I figure why not do some trauma dumping?”

“You are a never ending mystery, did you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” you smirk at him.

“Your Father said this should make you happy.” Suzanne states awkwardly as she walks into your office, holding out a folder.

You look her over and quickly come to the conclusion that, if anyone’s gonna get in the way of fun you and Lloyd have, it’ll be her.

You take the file from her as she takes a seat, and smirk when you open it. “What a fucking prick.”

“What is it?”

“A mob boss wants revenge for his daughter getting her heart broken,” you chuckle as Lloyd snickers.

“What am I missing?” Suzanne asks.

“Just a sick joke between two sick idiots,” you chuckle.

Once again, you tell yourself that whatever happened between you and Lloyd is over. You needed the release and he wanted fun and that was all. So, when he texts you that night telling you that he wants you to come over, you resist the urge and tell him that you two have done enough damage.

That weekend, it’s hard to not give in to what you truly want, especially when he’s sending you videos and leaving breathy voicemails telling you how badly he needs to be inside of you again. It’s not that you don’t want to, God knows how feral you are for the man, but you don’t need or want a repeat of last times. Hell, you’re even pissed with yourself for opening up to him.

You don’t like the fact that it felt good to open up to and confide in someone else other than Taj. Opening up to and and confiding in someone that you shouldn’t care about, at all.

Of course, you’re not the only one feeling frustrated.

Lloyd does his best to mask the fact that he’s unhappy with things not going his way, but it shows in his performance. If it were just you seeing it, you’d talk to him about it, but Suzanne is Fitzroy’s little spy, which means you can’t take it easy on him.

“What isn’t clicking, Lloyd?” you sigh, walking over to your desk, before turning around and leaning against it.

The look in his eyes confirms what you already know: this is only making everything worse.

“Not sure what you mean, Cupcake,” he mutters, giving you bedroom eyes.

“Impulse, Lloyd,” you say lazily, before hitting the button on your clicker, zapping him. “You seemed like you were getting it, and now you’re just not.”

“Just a bad day,” he growls.

“I call bullshit,” you smile sarcastically, before hitting the clicker again.

“Y/N,” he growls, gripping the desk.

“Don’t forget, Sweetheart, I’m the one calling the shots. That being said, we’re gonna do a little review.”

“Review?”

“Let’s start from day 1, shall we?”

“Jesus Christ,” he groans before sliding down in his seat.

“Oh, He won’t save you now, Sweetheart.”

You’re not gonna lie and say that you didn’t love being in control all day, but you’re also very aware that you can only poke a bear so many times before it finally attacks.

Lloyd gives you three days.

“You can’t be here,” you moan as Lloyd hoists you up and forces your legs around his waist, after you open the door for him.

“Shut up,” he growls before kicking your front door shut.

“Lloyd-”

“I should choke the shit out of you for all the shit you’ve been pulling for the last few days,” he warns as he quickly walks the both of you to your kitchen table.

“You’re the one who refuses to do what you know you’re supposed to,” you bite as he starts sucking on your sweet spot. “Fuck! Lloyd-”

“Shut up!” he commands as he roughly places you on the table. “I’m sick of your lessons, so now it’s time for me to teach you some of mine.”

“Daddy, I-”

“What happens you’re a bad girl?”

“Daddy-”

“Not only a brat, but a dumb brat? Oh Cupcake, it may take all night, but I promise: Daddy is gonna fuck you into submission,” he smiles darkly.

Lloyd is rough with you in every way you love, in multiple parts of your house, and you don’t tap out at all. Once again, you’re desperate for someone to show that you don’t need to be in control all the time, and he’s desperate to be that person for you.

“We can’t keep fucking,” you breathe after you’ve both had time to come down from your highs; you laying your head on his chest.

“Why not?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Lloyd.”

“Then don’t fucking act like one, Y/N,” he snaps back.

“Lloyd-”

“You’re an adult and so am I. Why does it matter what anyone thinks or says?”

“Cause we don’t lead normal lives and you know that.”

“We’re just having fun.”

“It doesn’t matter, they won’t see it that way. We have to stop.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Neither do I,” you sigh before pressing a small kiss to his chest “but we still have to.”

“It’s just sex!”

“They’ll see it as something more and you know it. If they think I’m giving you special treatment, for any reason, all of the work you’re doing goes out the window.”

“This is fucking stupid.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“It’s not like we aren’t careful.”

“We were careless as fuck the first few times,” you laugh softly and he chuckles.

“I think we did better this time-”

“Suzanne is watching us, Lloyd. You can’t afford to slip up, even in the slightest bit.”

“What about after I’m done?”

“Lets be honest, Lloyd. We both know you’ll pass out of spite. Fitz and everyone else is gonna keep a close eye for the next year or so. We have to stop.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t be a brat about it!”

“I’m not!”

“Lloyd-”

“You enjoy my company and I enjoy yours. You enjoy me fucking you and I love all the ways you fuck me. You’re 25 and I’m 26. We’re both consenting adults, so what’s the issue?”

“We’re killers,” you shrug simply as Lloyd lets out a frustrated sigh.

“It’s not like I’m aiming to be your boyfriend.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I should go,” he sighs, looking over at your alarm clock.

“I guess so.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Y/N-”

“Don’t do what, Lloyd?”

“It gets frustrating, not knowing what you want!”

“I just told you! But I can’t have what I want and neither can you. This is something stupid that we shouldn’t have started.”

“Why shouldn’t we have?” he questions; one of his hands traveling down between your legs.

“Lloyd,” you moan.

“Didn’t answer my question, baby,” he husks..

“Stop it,” you moan pathetically.

“No.”

“Lloyd-”

“Give me a good reason.”

“When you make me feel like this, it’s hard,” you whimper.

“Such a good girl,” he chuckles before kissing you deeply.

“We have to stop,” you breathe once you two break away, lulling your head back as he continues to tease your clit with his fingertips.

“We don’t want to.”

“Lloyd-”

“Fine, if tonight is our last night, I think we should make the most of it, don’t you?”

“We should, Daddy,” you moan, biting your bottom lip as he brings you off.

You let Lloyd fuck you like a rag doll two more times, before you decide it’s time for you two to call it a night. Once again, you force yourself to get over sexual desires for Lloyd and focus on the tasks at hand. The problem? Hes now become a drug you crave. Yeah, it’s just sex, but it’s the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. It doesn’t help that Lloyd is annoyingly handsome fully clothed, and the only thing that your mind goes to is the thought of him naked and treating you like a little whore.

When it comes to missions and watching him take control, you basically have to zone out, because he’s too fucking good at being terrifying and menacing; which is apparently a kink for you. Though, you are proud of the improvements hes made. Yeah, it’s probably for show so he can get the fuck out of there, but hes taken real strides to work on his methods of torture and holding back. You can always tell when he’s holding back on doing what he wants, because he clenches his fists and his jaw tightens; something else that makes you feral.

By the time it’s the week of your birthday, you’re ready to throw in the towel early become a recluse.

“Y/N!!!” Taj screams once you answer her call.

“Whatever you‘re thinking of saying, just know I’m working and I’m in the car with my associates.” you laugh.

“Goddammit, hi,” she scowls as you burst out laughing. “Stop working, it’s your fucking birthday!”

“It’s my fucking birthday, tomorrow,” you chuckle “and I’ll be off then.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“I won’t be working, so I honestly don’t care.”

“Good to know since I took the day off.”

“Taj!” you exclaim as you park the car.

“What? Your special day is a national holiday!”

“You are, as the kids say, annoying,” you chuckle as you screw the silencer on to your gun.

“Blah blah blah,” she mumbles “the world of waste management will survive without you for a bit. Do you have any idea of what you wanna do?”

“Taj, you know I didn’t think I’d make it this far and I’m just winging it, at this point. Whatever you come up with is fine, babe.”

“You wanna go skating?”

“Skating like rollerblading or skating like ice skating?”

“Rollerblading. Bitch, I’m too old to be on ice skates,” she laughs and you laugh along with her.

Though he does his best to hide it, you catch Lloyd chuckling from the corner of your eye.

“I wanna drink, Taj,” you giggle as you turn your car off.

“I know the perfect place!”

“No.”

“Oh, it’ll be so much fun!”

“Taji!”

“No time for you to be a little brat, you have work to do,” she practically sings as you roll your eyes. “Call me when you’re home?”

“Don’t I always?”

“I love you!”

“I love you, too,” you laugh before hanging up. When you look over to Lloyd, you scoff at the shit eating grin on his face. “What?”

“Your birthday is tomorrow?”

“So it would seem.”

“Ya know, you don’t have to answer her every time she calls.”

“Oh yes I do, if I don’t, she freaks the fuck out.”

“Why is that?”

“Another story for another time, Hansen,” you smirk before loading your gun. “Are we all ready?” you ask, looking from him to Suzanne.

“Lead the way,” she instructs.

As par for the course, you let Lloyd the mission, and you’re happy with what you see. You’re sure he’ll graduate in a couple of weeks, you’ll retire, and everything will be better.

Everything will be as it should.      

“Suzanne is under the impression that something is going on between you and Lloyd,” your Father scowls as you take a seat in his office after returning from the mission.

“Suzanne needs to mind her own fucking business,” you mutter as you toss down your assessment from the mission.

“Y/N, I told you-”

“Nothing is going on, we just get along. You didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to get along with the man.”

“Don’t. You know what happened the last time-”

“You don’t need to remind me. I remember better than anyone else,” you snap harshly.

Your Father lets out a deep sigh before throwing down the file. “I’m tired of arguing with you, Y/N.”

“Then stop trying to fucking control me all the time.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“You can’t keep using that excuse!”

“It’s not an excuse!”

You’re ready to yell, but you stop yourself, knowing it won’t get you anywhere. “I’m done talking about it. Nothing’s going on, so just leave it at that. I’ll see you on Saturday night.”

“You’re not coming over at all tomorrow?”

“Taj beat you to it. We’ll just do something Saturday night,” you shrug.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, night,” you smile weakly before getting up and heading out.

You walk past Suzanne and glare at her.

Fucking snitch.

By the time you get home, you’re ready for bed, but the sight of Taj on your porch with different bottles of alcohol in her hands, has you cracking up and knowing you’re night is just getting started.

She has you dancing, laughing your ass off, and drunk in almost an hour and a half.

“So,” she giggles as you two sit down on your sofa “Lloyd.”

“What about him?”

“What’s going on there?”

“Why do you think there’s something going on?”

“Well, for starters, you gave him your personal number,” she smirks, nodding towards phone.

“Dammit,” you groan, looking over to see that hes text you twice. “We’re just fucking around. Well, we were. We stopped.”

“What?! Why?!” she exclaims with a pout and you laugh.

“It’s just not a good idea. If we get caught-”

“You’re almost out, Y/N. Why-”

“Almost out isn’t out, and if we get caught, it’s bad for him. He’s putting in the work, and I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t succeed.”

“Oh, so you like him?” she giggles.

“I do not like him,” you scoff.

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t!”

“This is a safe space, babe. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, grabbing your phone as she bursts out laughing.

American Psycho: Come over.

American Psycho: Daddy wants to give you a pearl necklace for your birthday.

Y/N: Lol I can’t and you know that.

American Psycho: I can come to you.

Y/N: We both agreed, Lloyd. Besides, I’m too drunk to fuck, Taj is over and the last thing I need to do is drive.

American Psycho: I can come over and give you both one.

Y/N: LMAO

American Psycho: Can’t say I didn’t try.

Y/N: Lol go away, Lloyd

American Psycho: Enjoy your night, Doll Face.

You roll your eyes and throw your phone down on the table.

“What does he want?” Taj asks she pours the both of you another drink.

“A threesome,” you laugh as she almost chokes on her spit.

“Yeah no, I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“Rude!”

“Who says I was talking about you? Why should I have to share you?”

“Taj!” you laugh incredulously as she starts cracking up at the shocked expression on your face.

“You did that to yourself,” she chuckles “does he wanna come over?”

“Of course he does, but I told him that we both agreed to stop.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no, he’s best the fuck I’ve ever had,” you groan sinking back into the sofa.

“Just be careful.”

“Someone already voiced their concern,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“Ew!”

“Exactly, I can’t keep sneaking around because I love the sex.”

“And like him.”

“I don’t like him! Besides, Lloyd does not seem like the type of man who does relationships. He fucks.”

“Has he been fucking anyone else besides you?”

“More than likely, he doesn’t like to go a long time with his dick in his pants.”

“But you haven’t?”

“I haven’t had any time,” you scowl. “Besides, I do want a relationship. A real one that leads to marriage, children, and dying together at an old age.”

“Then why-”

“He’s just something to pass the time. I never had any intention of pursuing anything with him,” you sigh, finishing off your drink.

“Then why do you seem so bummed about it?”

“I’m just bummed with my life right now, but things will change. I just feel like a child. I’m turning 26 in an hour, but I’m not fucking someone because my Father said I can’t. What fucking sense does that make? Someone snitched, ugh, I’m getting myself worked up!” you grunt before sitting up. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Let’s dance,” you smile at Taj.

“Babe, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I have every other day to be sad. I refuse to be sad on my birthday.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you have me,” she smirks, before getting up and turning up the music, loud.

As the night goes on, and you both get drunker, you can’t get Lloyd out of your head and you don’t know why. Ever since Taj asked if he’s fucking anyone else, your mind can’t stop wondering about it. Is he? And if he is, why do you care? You don’t. There’s nothing to care about.

It’s Lloyd.

Yeah, he’s come a long way since you first met him, but he’s still Lloyd. Taj stops the music, pulling you out of your thoughts, and starts singing ‘Happy Birthday’ loud and off-key.

“Please stop,” you laugh, stumbling a bit.

“I love you, you crazy bitch!” she hums, clumsily making her way over to you and wrapping you in a tight hug.

“Thank you for sticking by my side,” you whisper, wrapping her in a hug just as tight.

“Always and forever, babe. We got this,” she smiles at you before you two break apart. “Now lets get back to...oop! Your sex toy is calling,” she laughs.

“Oh God,” you laugh, doing your best to quickly grab your phone and a pack of cigarettes. “I’ll be taking this outside!”

“I bet you will,” she laughs, turning the music back on.

“Hello?” you laugh, closing the door behind you and taking out a cigarette.

“Are you having a house party without me?”

“It’s a party of two,” you giggle, lighting your cigarette. “How may I help you, Mr. Hansen?”

“Oh, I like that.”

“Lloyd,” you laugh.

“I just wanted to gift you the compliment of you being the best fuck I’ve ever had. Since you cut me off, I’ve trying out new candidates, and I’ve been disappointed every single time.”

“I thought you were a master hunter,” you scoff, feeling irritated for reasons you don’t understand.

“Oh? Is someone jealous?”

“You’ve clearly had enough to drink,” you laugh.

“We could just start back.”

“It’s not like I’ll be the only person you’ll be fucking.”

“You’ll be my top priority.”

“You’re annoying,” you laugh, taking a drag from your cigarette.

“Why? Am I the only guy you’re fucking?”

“It’s not like I have much time to go out and have fun.”

“Would my good little girl like me to stop until the playing field is even?”

“No, because we’re done.”

“Sure we are.”

“You need to sleep, you have training tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it’s with Suzanne.”

“So?”

“Suzanne sucks,” he scowls and you start laughing.

“I want you to be on your best behavior for her, like you are for me.”

“Yeah, but you reward me when I’m a good boy.”

“Go to sleep, Lloyd,” you laugh, putting out your cigarette.

“Happy Birthday, Doll Face.”

“Thank you, Lloyd.”

“Night.”

“Good night,” you smile before hanging up.

You stand there for a moment, thinking over all of your feelings and emotions. The only reason that you’re annoyed that Lloyd’s fucking around is because he has free time and you don’t. Of course, he could use his free time to practice and train, but he won’t because he doesn’t need to.

Cocky fuck.

When you get back inside, Taj is dancing on top of the coffee table to the Spice Girls.

“So, what was that about?”

“Nothing,” you laugh as you pour yourself a shot.

“That was a long time to be outside to talk about nothing.”

“Taj.”

“Whatever you say, Buttercup,” she smirks at you before going back to dancing.

At some point, you two go upstairs and fall asleep. You don’t even remember falling asleep, but soon enough, you’re awoken by Taj bringing you breakfast from your favorite diner and a mimosa.

“I feel like we drank all the alcohol in the world last night,” you laugh as you sit up.

“Oh, that was nothing.”

“Taj!”

“You can recover tomorrow. Today, we party,” she grins mischievously.

You two spend the day watching your favorite movies, eating your favorite junk, and talking about all of the things that make you smile.

“We should start getting ready!” she squeals in delight when she checks the time.

“We’re just going skating,” you laugh, as you get up and make your way into the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, we’re getting you laid.”

“When did I agree to this?”

“When I decided it just now. Now, lets get you dressed and looking like a whore,” she giggles ominously.

“Oh God!”

“Oh yes!”

While she’s in the middle of doing your hair, your phone buzzes and a small stupid smile comes to your face.

American Psycho: You’re not allowed to leave me alone with Suzanne ever again.

Y/N: Lol were you a good little boy?

American Psycho: Yes Mommy.

Y/N: Knew you could do it.

American Psycho: Does your good little boy get a reward?

Y/N: Maybe, if I’m drunk enough later, you’ll get a video or two.

American Psycho: Now that’s just torture. I get to watch you play with that beautiful little pussy, but I can’t even put my mouth on it?

Y/N: Someone’s needy.

American Psycho: Only for you, Mommy.

Y/N: I’m gonna go now, be a good boy.

You don’t know how much longer you’re going to be able to abide by your own rules.

“Smiling pretty hard for someone who doesn’t have a crush,” Taj teases as she curls the last bit of your hair.

“It’s just sex. I don’t even know a thing about him.”

“You clearly know enough. Just because you don’t know his life story, doesn’t mean you don’t know enough to feel something for him other than a wet pussy.”

“No thank you. He’s still sleeping with other women anyway, so there’s clearly nothing on his end anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why do you want this so bad?”

“He makes you smile, he makes you laugh, he fucks like a God apparently, and you just seem a little lighter now. I don’t know, I haven’t seen you like this in a while and it just makes me happy,” she shrugs.

“He’s just a guy I’m training, babe. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Whatever you say,” she sighs.

You two continue to drink and dance while you both get ready (Taj picking out your outfit to ensure that you get laid), and soon enough, you’re feeling pretty fucking good.

“Why the fuck did I think that drinking and rollerblading would be a good thing?” you laugh as you both hold each other up and try get around the rink.

“Cause you’re a fucking genius,” Taj giggles before looking up. “Well, well, well,” she smirks.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me,” you groan as you follow her gaze.

Lloyd is leaning against the wall, smirking at you, with his arms folded across his chest. He’s got on black dress pants, a tight black Henley shirt, and a leather jacket.

You’re ready to fuck him on the spot.

“I’d fuck him in public,” Taj muses as she does her best to smoothly maneuver you both over to where he’s standing with Denny.

“I did,” you groan and the gasp that leaves Taj’s mouth has you doubled over laughing.

“Stop! You’re gonna make us fall!” she laughs, trying to keep her balance.

“That was an issue before I started laughing,” you chuckle, also trying to stay upright while trying to catch your breath.

You both barely make it to the wall upright and arrive with a thud, both of you laughing incredibly hard.

“Hello boys,” Taj breathes out, only making you laugh harder. “Have a drink with us?”

“Looks like you’ve both had enough for the whole place,” Lloyd chuckles, his gaze on you soft.

“This is nothing,” you giggle, finally regaining your composure. “Hi Denny,” you smile at Carmichael, who is watching both you and Taj with pure amusement in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he nods towards you.

“Taj, this is Denny Carmichael and Lloyd Hansen,” you say politely, trying to remember your manners.

“Nice to meet the both of you,” she smiles at them, but her eyes subtly look over Denny.

And she’s gone.

“What brings you out tonight?” you question Lloyd.

“Felt like skating,” he smirks.

“Cause you seem like a guy who’s big on skating.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he agrees with a seductive and low tone.

“Denny, grab a drink with me,” Taj smirks, letting go of you and giving you a wink.

“I’d love to,” he chuckles as she takes his arm.

“Lloyd,” you start once they’re out of ear shot “what are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here,” he growls “and judging by your outfit, you have intentions of going home with someone other than Taj.”

“Jealous?”

“Lets just say,” he husks moving in closer to you “I don’t like sharing my toys.”

“Lloyd-”

“Come home with me tonight,” he almost begs. “You and I both know you won’t regret it.” You look over at Taj and see that she’s having a very good time with Denny. “She’ll be fine with him. What do you say?”

You look up at him through your thick lashes and bite your bottom lip.

Fuck.

“Lloyd!” you whimper, arching your back as your hands run through his hair. “Fuck, you eat this pussy so fucking good, Daddy!”

The entire drive to his place, you blow him and ignore all of the voices in your head that are telling you it’s a bad idea. The minute you stepped foot in his house, his hands were all over you, ripping off your clothes before sitting you on the counter and fingering you. After he brought you off twice, he carried you upstairs, threw you on his bed, and he’s been a menace ever since.

“You like the way Daddy eats your pussy, baby?” Lloyd husks as he looks up at you, sliding two fingers into your soaked cunt and fucking you intensely.

“Mhm, you’re so fucking good to me! Fuck, that’s it!”

“My good little girl wants to cum?”

“Please! God, please and then fuck me! Need you to fuck me!”

“You’re so fucking pathetic,” he chuckles darkly. “But fuck, you look amazing all blissed out.”

“Lloyd please! I need it!”

“Alright baby, cum for me, then Daddy’s gonna give you that pearl necklace you want so bad, Honey,” he smirks before kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Fuck!” you cry out, as you feel yourself come undone for him for what feels like the millionth time.

“The best little slut,” he growls before kissing his way up your body. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you naked and fucked out on my bed?”

“Lloyd,” you moan as he softly licks the side of your neck.

“You’re the most amazing fuck, and you expect us to just stop? You expect me to give you up?” he questions hotly against your ear as he thrusts himself inside of you.

“Never want you to!” you cry out, digging your nails into his shoulder. “Never want you to get tired of me, baby,” you confess, too drunk and blissed out to mask your emotions from either of you.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he chuckles before sitting up, gripping your hips, and thrusting into you hard and fast.

“Fuck!”

“I’ve been gentle with you tonight and I fucking shouldn’t be,” he grunts, lust filling his heated gaze on you, as he watches you writhe beneath him; your hands clawing at him because you’re so desperate to feel him. “spoiled little shit!”

“ ‘m so sorry, Daddy! I won’t do it again! I promise!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna stop denying me your perfect little body? Gonna stop denying me you?”

“Shit!” you moan, meeting his heated gaze.

“Didn’t answer my fucking question, Doll Face!”

“Lloyd, you can have anything you want from me,” you cry out, the knot in your core starting to tighten in the most pleasurable way.

“Jesus babygirl!” Lloyd groans, his grip on your waist becoming painfully tight.

“Baby please!”

“Give it to me, Doll Face,” he encourages with a grunt.

“FUCK!” you scream out, squirting on his cock hard.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he grunts, pulling out of you, forcing your legs together before straddling you and working his way up your body, as he starts jerking himself off. “You want Daddy to give you that necklace, Honey?”

“Please!” you mindlessly and pathetically beg as you grip his thighs.

“Jesus!” he yells, painting your chest with his cum as you moan in delight.

Lloyd takes his time covering your chest with his seed before smirking and watching as you desperately scoop up every bit; and you can tell by the look on his face that he’s pleased with the sounds that leave your mouth.

“Happy Birthday, Doll Face,” he smirks before dipping down and kissing your forehead.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you giggle up at him when he sits up.

“What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me,” you plead with a pout.

“Give me a minute,” he laughs before getting off of you. “You want anything from downstairs?”

“A drink,” you shrug, sitting up and looking around his room.

It feels very...him.

“You don’t think you’ve had enough?”

“It’s my birthday, Lloyd. I can do whatever I want,” you nod and he just laughs. “In fact, get yourself a glass too. We’re drinking and fucking,” you smirk and he bursts out laughing.

“Are you always full of surprises?”

“I try to be,” you smile before pulling your knees to your chest and laying your head on them.

Lloyd looks as if he’s about to say something, but stops himself before shaking his head, smiling and walking out. Left alone with your drunken thoughts, you try to figure out just what the fuck it is you’re doing. Why can’t you just turn it off? Why is your attraction to him so strong? Is he even as attracted to you as you are to him?

What the fuck are you doing?

When Lloyd walks back in, you bite your bottom lip to suppress a moan and he smirks at you.

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you moan.

“You are definitely not what I expected,” he chuckles as he places the glasses down and pours you both a glass of bourbon.

“And what were you expecting?”

“To break you in.”

“Happy or disappointed?”

“Oh, I’m very happy, Doll Face,” he smirks before kissing your forehead. “This is for you, by the way. Happy Birthday,” he shrugs, placing a small box next to your glass before taking a seat at his desk and crossing one leg over the other.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Lloyd.”

“I saw it and thought of you. No big deal,” he mumbles before taking a sip of his drink.

You remain silent but cock an eyebrow before untying the black velvet lace around the white box. You’re expecting some sort of sex toy, but a silent gasp leaves you when you see what’s inside.

“Lloyd-”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” you marvel as you hold up the diamond bracelet that has a heart pendant at the center of it.

“To go with that necklace you love so much. You can wear it as a set, if you want.”

“Lloyd, you didn’t have to spend this much on me. You didn’t have to spend anything on me.”

“Not a big deal, Doll Face. I saw it, thought you’d like it, so I got it.”

“Thank you,” you smile at him before getting up and making your way over to him, sitting in his lap once he puts his leg down. “How can I show you just how thankful I am?”

“Keep letting me cum wherever I want,” he smirks and you burst out laughing.

“You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy,” you smirk before kissing him deeply.

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you close to him. It feels like heaven, and you hate that you don’t want to give it up. Give him up.

“Whatever I want?” he breathes once you two break apart.

“Mhm.”

“You’re done with telling me no?”

“Well, I’m clearly not very good at it,” you mutter as he chuckles.

“We’ll be careful, Doll Face.”

“Suzanne already told my Father that she thinks something’s going on.”

“Fuck!”

“Hell, she could’ve been at the roller rink tonight, just like you.”

“She can’t prove that we did anything even if she was.”

“Whether she can or can’t, we’re clearly hellbent on fucking each other, so we have to be smarter about how we go about it.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“Lloyd, it’s almost 12am and I’m in your bedroom, on your lap, and my pussy is soaked. Does it seem like I want to stop?”

“I’ll be a good boy at work,” he promises as he slides a hand between your legs and starts to tease your clit.

“No more fucking in front of everyone,” you moan as you lean your forehead against his.

“I’ll only fuck you in private,” he smirks and you giggle with a whimper.

“And no more lingering gazes.”

“Then don’t look so fucking sexy when you come to work.”

“There’s nothing sexy about me when I’m at work.”

“Doll Face, you’re joking, right? The shirts? The skirts?”

“They all come from the half off rack at Burlington,” you laugh.

“Yeah, but this body doesn’t,” he groans before sliding two fingers into your intimate folds. “You are so fucking perfect, Y/N. It drives me crazy.”

“Yeah Daddy? I’m the perfect little whore?”

“Perfect and I swear you were made just for me!”

“Fuck!” you cry out, coming undone all over his fingers. “If we’re gonna keep this up, we’re both gonna have to do better.”

“I promise, Doll Face,” he breathes out before kissing your cheek. “You should stay over tonight.”

“Lloyd.”

“I wanna finish tonight with my cock in your ass, and start my day with my face between your legs.”

“I shouldn’t,” you moan, feeling his tongue run along the base of your neck.

“Daddy doesn’t like that answer, Cupcake,” he growls before forcing your legs open and slapping your pussy.

“Shit!”

“Tell Daddy what he wants to hear or I’ll punish you all night.”

“It’s not-”

“Not what I want to hear,” he taunts, slapping your pussy again.

“Lloyd!”

“Are you gonna stay?”

“Mmm, Daddy!”

“Oh, you want me to keep slapping your cunt? You’re getting off on it?”

“Feels so fucking good!”

“Are you gonna stay?”

“I’ll do whatever you want! Just please!”

“Such a good girl,” he chuckles before slapping your pussy again.

You and Lloyd stay up all night, fucking, drinking, and talking. He makes good on his word and finishes off in your ass. Since you soaked his bed, he changes the sheets while you go in the bathroom and clean yourself off.

“Pretty sure I’m gonna have to get a new mattress soon if we keep at it like this,” he teases once you get back in his bed.

“You’re the one who decided to keep your vibrator ring on my clit while you fucked me in the ass,” you yawn.

“I just love destroying you,” he laughs as you smirk and shake your head. “You okay?”

“I’m perfect.”

“Yes you are,” he agrees before kissing your shoulder. “Good night, Doll Face.”

“Lloyd?”

“Hm?”

“This is all just sex, right?”

He’s hesitant before he says, “of course.”

You don’t believe him, but shrug it off anyway. Too tired to press the matter, you just curl up under the covers and sigh, “Goodnight, Lloyd,” you sigh before drifting off into dream land.

Once again, keeping his word, you’re awoken with Lloyd’s tongue fucking you, while his thumb teases your clit.

“You’re gonna make me never want to leave,” you moan as you grip his hair. You feel his smirk and you grind your cunt against his face.

Jackass.

“Daddy...daddy, I’m so close, holy shit!” you squeal, arching your back as your toes curl. When he changes up, licking and sucking on your clit before sliding three fingers into your dripping cunt, your free hand grips his pillow as a wave of release washes over you. “LLOYD!” you scream as he continues to fuck you through your high.

You hate how much you never tire of him. How much neither of you tire of each other.

He takes his time kissing up your body, letting you know (in his own way) how much he appreciates it, before finally kissing you deeply. “I want to keep you handcuffed to my bed all day,” he husks once you two break apart.

“Mommy has things to do today,” you reply with a pout.

“You can’t talk like that expect me to want to let you go.”

“Be a good boy. I’ll take care of you and that greedy cock in a few days.”

“A few days?”

“It’s not like you’re not going to drown yourself in someone else’s pussy.”

“But I want to drown in yours, Mommy,” he whispers as his hand slides between your legs, teasing your clit.

“Lloyd,” you warn with a moan.

“Just one time? Please?”

“You know Mommy doesn’t like it when you’re being a spoiled little brat.”

“And you know I hate not getting what I want,” growls against your neck before biting it.

“Fuck!”

“I’ll be so fucking good, Mommy.”

“Once, Lloyd.”

“Sure,” he smirks before thrusting himself inside of you.

Lloyd has you three times before you force yourself to throw in the towel.

“I need something to wear home,” you pant once he collapses next to you.

“I can take you home just like this.”

“You can’t take me anywhere. I’m getting a car service.”

“Why-”

“In case someone is watching. The last thing I need my Father raking me over the coals about is you driving me home. I need something to wear.”

“This is stupid.”

“We’ve talked about this a handful of times. Don’t start.”

“At the end of the month, I can’t fuck you at all, but I have to wait a few days to even fuck you again?”

“Don’t start whining,” you sigh as you sit up. “Neither of us like it, but it is what it is.”

“What about if I stayed?”

“Stayed where?”

“With your Father’s company.”

“I mean, the chances are slim to none, cause my Father hates you.”

“Most people do,” he smirks.

“Besides, you’re the one who wants to be the CIA’s whipping boy, so why stay?”

“Well, it’s not like you make it sound all that great.”

“It just...it is what it is,” you sigh, feeling a little bit of sadness yourself, as you look over at him. “Now, I need clothes.”

He gives you one of his Harvard crew necks, which practically swallows you, and you order a car service.

“I want to see you tomorrow,” he mutters as you both stand outside and wait for the car to pull up.

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“Lloyd-”

“I don’t like not getting what I want.”

“Welcome to the real world, Sweet Boy.”

“I don’t see why your Father doesn’t like me anyway. I’ve never done anything to piss him off.”

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe because you’re just a little unhinged at times,” you smirk and he chuckles as the car pulls up. “I gotta go,” you sigh, turning to walk away.

You turn to walk away, but Lloyd’s arm wraps around your waist pulls you close. Before you can say anything, his lips are on yours and he’s engulfing you in an all consuming kiss. You know you should pull away, but it’s Lloyd and you can never resist him. It’s bad enough that you two keep tip-toeing the line of fucking and something more, but it’s Lloyd. You can’t stop yourself, no matter how bad much you want to.

“I have to go,” you breathe once you two break apart.

“I know,” he pants, gripping you harder.

“Lloyd...this is all just sex...right?”

“Yes...of course it is.”

“Lloyd-”

“I mean it, Doll Face. You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had, and I’m not ready to give you...it up yet.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle softly, going to leave again, but Lloyd’s grip on you you doesn’t soften. “Lloyd-”

“I know...I’ll see you Monday,” he sighs, finally letting go of you.

You place a soft kiss on his cheek and let him go. “Come over on Tuesday night, okay?”

“You better your ass, Doll Face.”

“Bye,” you giggle before escaping down the steps and getting into the car that’s been waiting for you.

The ride to your house isn’t a long one, but it’s long enough that you rack your brain trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, and just exactly what the fuck is going on between you and Lloyd. You look down at the bracelet he gave you and you scowl. Yeah, he said it’s no big deal, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling like one. Why can’t you grow tired of him and why does it matter that he’s sleeping around?

He’s not your boyfriend and you don’t want him to be.

“Here, Miss,” the driver smiles at you, pulling you out of your mental debate.

“Thank you,” you smile softly, grabbing your clutch before getting out of the car.

You’re ready to start your little mental debate back up, but before you can, you look up to see Taj walking up to your door, also in only an Harvard crew neck. You both burst out laughing at the sight of each other, knowing that the both of you had an extremely good night.

“So, I see that someone had some fun last night,” you smirk as you unlock your front door.

“We clearly should’ve gone to Harvard,” she sighs as she throws her clutch on your little table by your door.

“Are you gonna see him again?”

“Yeah, I basically made him ask me on a date. I could tell he wanted to, but he seemed scared, so I told him that next Friday, he’s picking me up at 6 and we’re going out to dinner.”

“What’s it like to be fearless?”

“Pretty fucking great, not gonna lie,” she shrugs before looking at your arm. “Holy shit!”

“Oh, that,” you scoff looking down at the bracelet on your wrist.

“Oh no.”

“It’s nothing,” you mumble, plopping down on your sofa.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You know better than to lie to me.”

“He’s just so fucking annoying,” you scowl as Taj starts laughing. “Of course, he says it’s not a big deal, he saw it and thought of me-”

“Awh!”

“Taj!”

“That’s fucking sweet! I don’t care what either of you idiots say, you both like each other. Why not go on a date and give it a try?”

“Because I don’t want to date him.”

“Why not?”

“Because...he sucks.”

“Didn’t know you were 5.”

“I hate you,” you mutter and she starts laughing again “for one, he’s high maintenance. You know how much I can’t stand that shit. Two, he’s such a winy little brat. He’s so fucking entitled, spoiled little fuck. Three, he can be pretty fucking heartless at times, and I don’t need another man like that in my life. Four, he’s fucking obsessed with himself...oh fuck,” you groan as you lay your head back and Taj bursts out laughing.

“There it is!”

“No, I can fix this. No. No. NO!”

“You like him!”

“Stop saying that!”

“You won’t give me the satisfaction of knowing I’m right just this once?”

“Not when it comes to this. Set me up on a date.”

“What? No!”

“Taj, please! I really don’t...PLEASE!”

“Why not just go on a date with him?”

“Because NO! Taj, I just...no, I don’t want to be in like with Lloyd Hansen of all fucking people. Besides, he’s still out getting his dick wet in whatever he can, so I really shouldn’t-”

“He clearly likes you too, babe,” she sighs, motioning towards the bracelet on your arm.

“No, he doesn’t. This means nothing to him.”

“Pretty pricey for it to mean nothing.”

“As if money matters to him. You’ve seen him, does it really look like money is something he worries about? Hell, I just spent the night at his house, I know it doesn’t matter to him.”

“Y/N-”

“No Taj, just trust me on this. He’s not the man you want me to end up with. Please, just set me up on a date with that doctor friend of yours. The one whose been asking for my number.”

“I don’t like this, at all, and don’t think it’s a good idea...but I’ll do it,” she sighs heavily.

“Thank you.”

“Yup.”

“Oh, don’t be fucking mad at me!”

“He makes you happy, Y/N!”

“He’s not good for me! Ugh, why are we arguing about this?!”

“Because, once again, you’re not doing something that’ll make you happy-”

“Being with Lloyd won’t make me happy!”

“Then why can’t you stay away from him? And don’t give me some bullshit answer about how it’s just sex.”

“That’s really all it is!”

“Okay.”

“Stop that!”

“Y/N, one of these days, you’re gonna need to realize that the person stopping you from being happy is you,” she sighs as she gets up. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

“You need clothes,” you mutter annoyed that somehow, without even trying, Lloyd has ruined your day.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll text Bryan when I get home and let you know. I love you,” she all but mumbles as she leaves.

You let out a frustrated scream and stomp your feet like a petulant child, before checking the time.

1:30.

Great, now you’ve got to get ready to spend time with your Father, which is the last thing you want. You take your time showering, washing the previous nights sexcapade off of you, and ignore the fact that you’re insanely pissed with yourself for falling for Lloyd.

How the fuck did it even happen?

At what point, did you brain decide that you like Lloyd as more than just a fuck toy? No, it’s total bullshit. It’s gotta be, because it makes no fucking sense. Sure, he makes you laugh sometimes, and can be kind when he feels like it, but you’ve barely spent enough time with him to actually have real feelings. Great sex doesn’t mean he’s worthy of your time. Being attractive as all shit, doesn’t mean he’s a good candidate for the fairy tale life you want.

Besides, he doesn’t even want that shit, so why even entertain the idea of that shit?

By the time you arrive at your Father’s house, you’ve worked yourself into a frenzy.

“What did I do wrong this time?” he sighs as he pouts you a glass of wine.

“What? Oh, nothing. It’s nothing you’ve done, this one’s on me.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Lets not pretend that parenting is actually your strong suit.”

“I’m trying, Y/N.”

“I know you are and I appreciate it, but you don’t have to.”

“Well, how was your birthday?”

“Good, Taj and I got drunk and went skating. It’s what I needed.”

“And how is Taj?”

“She’s fine. Just as much Taj as shes always been,” you mumble looking down at your hands.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I know you usually hate hanging out with me, but this isn’t you.”

“I just...I’m not saying this to start an argument. I just really fucking wish this wasn’t my life. Yeah, I’m out at the end of the month, goody, but the damage is done. I never feel normal around other people, and I even feel selfish for having Taj as a best friend. Every time I hangout with her, I feel like I’m putting her in danger. Why? Because I have enemies, and so do you. Hell, me being your daughter probably doubles my list. Now, I’m gonna start dating and I want to get married and have kids, but how the fuck can I do that? I’ve barely ever lived that life. The closest I got was college and we all saw how much of a shit show that was. So, what options do I have left after that? Date someone in our line of work? I did that and I ended up having to kill him and almost killed myself. So, that’s my fucking issue. I’m 26 and I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing,” you mutter, wiping away the few tears you cried before taking a sip of wine.

Your Father lets out a deep sigh before taking a seat across from you at the kitchen isle. “Ya know, for a time, I wanted the same thing you want now. I tried.”

“What?”

“I tried to be the guy that could have a family, work a respectable job, be open and loving...I tried to be normal.”

“What happened?”

“I felt like you feel now. No matter how much I tried to fit into that role, I couldn’t because it wasn’t for me. Squares don’t fit into a circle. That life stopped being an option for me a long time ago. When I met your Mother, I had just decided to stop trying. She didn’t want anything except a night of fun, and I was good at that so I was more than happy to give her what she wanted. Fast forward two months, she found me and told me the news. You’re right, I didn’t want you. It obviously wasn’t anything you’d done, I just wasn’t capable of being a Father. How the fuck was I supposed to love and care for you, when that’s never been something I’ve done? I tried and I sucked at it. However, your Mother,” he smirks with a scoff “she was over the moon about you. Couldn’t wait. I told her I’d pay for the abortion and she almost stabbed me. Maybe that’s where you get it from, anyway, she was hellbent on having you and I wasn’t about to be a deadbeat like my own Father. So, I decided to suck it up and marry her. No, it wasn’t ideal and she wasn’t necessarily happy about the line of work I was in, but she accepted it. Somewhere deep down inside, she did love me and I tried my hardest to love her. I think that’s what hurt her the most. She saw me trying, but it was plain as day that it was something I just wasn’t capable of. Anyway, fast forward to the day that you were born...I had an attitude the entire time I drove to the hospital,” he laughs softly. “You were already fucking up my life and you hadn’t even gotten here yet. I was supposed to be going on a mission for Fitzroy, but your Mother called right before I was about to leave and Fitz insisted that I go. When I got there, your Mother in all her glory, was throwing ice chips at the nurses and threatening to kill everyone if they didn’t get you out of her soon. Honestly, your Mother could’ve done what we do. Nonetheless, 9 hours later, you were brought into the world. Your Mother was exhausted, but she was over the moon. She made me hold you, and it was the first time someone was genuinely happy to see me. Your big innocent eyes, the smile that was plastered across your face...I loved you instantly. So, I decided to try again.

No, I wasn’t around as much as I should’ve been, but I was there on family park days, I tucked you in, I sang you lullabies when you would start screaming bloody murder at 3am, I never missed a beach day. I tried. Your Mother and I bonded, and for just a moment, I thought I’d finally done it. I was with someone who accepted me as I was, flaws and all, I had a great kid that loved me, and I was around enough. Then, your Mother got sick. We didn’t tell you, but she and I knew she wasn’t going to make it. She was diagnosed at stage 4, but she didn’t want you to think about that. She wanted to enjoy as much time with you as she could, without you worrying that it would be your last time with her. Then, when the raid happened...there was no way she was gonna let me try and save her. She just wanted you to be safe. It broke my heart, because she was my best friend. She was the first person to come into my life that tolerated me and made an attempt to understand me. She was also the one who understood you the best. But the look she gave me...she just wanted you safe. You cried so much and I did too, in private. However, I still had you and I was determined to keep you safe, so I decided to train you. Of course I noticed the change in your attitude and the way you would look at me. I knew it wasn’t what you wanted, but I figured it was the best way to keep you safe, so even when I can’t be there to protect you, you can protect yourself.

However, you’re not me, which is something I should be grateful for. I am grateful for that. You were determined to have some sort of normalcy because, unlike me, you’re built for it. Yeah, you’re fucking terrifying when you need to be, I’d like to think you got that from both your Mother and I, but you have a huge heart. I know you’ve been going to see that girl in the coma, and you obviously don’t have to. She’s nothing to you, but you care. You don’t want her to be alone, because even though you play the part well, you’re not a monster. You have Taj and you’d burn the world down for that girl if you even think someone has any intention of hurting her. You fell in love, got your heartbroken in the worst way, yet you’re still trying,” he sniffs, wiping his eyes. “The point of this very long winded statement is, you’re going to be fine. You’re going to figure it out and you’ll have the life you want. The kids, the house, the husband, the fucking dog...you’ll get it. Of course, I want you to keep doing this because you’re the best there is, but I always knew you’d stand your ground one day. I am proud of you, Y/N. Yeah, I’m a hard ass, but I see how hard you work, and I see how hard you love. You’re a better person than I could ever be and you came out better than I could’ve ever imagined. You’re gonna be just fine,” your Father finishes with a soft smile as you wipe your eyes.

You slowly get up and round the isle, and wrap your Father in a tight hug.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he snaps.

“I’m giving my Father a hug, dumbass,” you laugh softly.

“You know I don’t do hugs, Y/N.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone that you were nice to your only daughter. Ya know what’s weird? It’s actually normal for Father’s to hug their daughters!”

“Always the fucking smart ass,” he laughs as he wraps his arms around you. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

“Enough to stay?”

“Lets not ruin the moment.”

“Can’t blame me for trying,” he laughs.

The rest of evening is surprisingly pleasant and you two even watch a movie together, and you honestly don’t remember the last time you two did that. By the time you’re home, you’re feeling so much lighter. However, there’s still one issue.

Lloyd.

While you’re than happy to know that you Father believes you’ll have the life of normalcy you want, and basically gave you his blessing, you still don’t want that person to be Lloyd. It can’t be Lloyd. No matter what Taj thinks.

Oxford Princess: I gave Bryan your number, he’s over the moon and is gonna ask you to dinner on Monday. Just a heads up.

Y/N: Can you not be mad at me about this, please?

Oxford Princess: I’m not mad. You know Lloyd better than I do obviously, so if you’re so sure it’s not even a good idea to try, then who am I to question it?

Y/N: Don’t do that. Don’t just brush it off because you don’t like when we disagree.

Oxford Princess: I’m not brushing it off, but you’re so sure that he’s so terrible, and you would know. So if you say no, no it is.

Y/N: Why do you want me to be with him so bad?

Oxford Princess: It’s not like I want you to marry the kid, but he makes you happy when he isn’t pissing you off. You forget, I fucking know you. I’ve seen it all and I remember that asshole who fucked you over. Yeah, Lloyd fucks you stupid which is something you’ve always craved, but he makes you laugh. Really laugh. You smile whenever you see that he’s the one who text you. I already knew when you started fucking him and you stopped, because your whole mood changed. Someone who has this much of an effect on you...it’s at least worth a date.

Y/N: He doesn’t want the same things that I want. Taj. Even if I do look past all the shit about him that pisses me the fuck off, I’m just setting myself up to get hurt. Oxford Princess: Maybe he feels that way, because hes never found anyone else to make him feel differently.

Y/N: Why should I have to be the crash test dummy?

Oxford Princess: That’s a fair point. Like I said, you know him better than me. If you think this is the best plan of action, then stick to it. I just want you to be happy. I love you, babygirl.

Y/N: I love you.

You sigh as you lay back on the sofa, trying to go through all of the conversations you’ve had today, before your phone starts going off. You groan in frustration before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Awh, what’s wrong, Buttercup?” Lloyd laughs as you hear someone in the background getting dressed.

You don’t like the fact that it makes your blood boil. “It’s been a long day, Lloyd. How may I help you?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Lloyd, what’s up?”

“I know you said Tuesday, but why not Monday?”

“I might not be able to on Monday.”

“Why? You have a date?” he scoffs, which only pisses you off more.

“Yes, in fact, I do.”

“What?!”

“I have a date, Lloyd.”

“What the fuck?! What do you mean you have a date?”

“What part don’t you comprehend?” you snap, but it’s hurting you that you’ve obviously made him upset.

“I didn’t know you were going on dates, Cupcake.”

“I’m sorry, but don’t I hear someone getting dressed right now?”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t mean anything! Sorry Sunshine, but you don’t.”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, okay sure.”

“I’m not, it just took me by surprise. So, what? Is it someone from work?”

“He’s a doctor-”

“A fucking doctor? You can do better than that, Cupcake.”

“Like what? You?”

“Never said that.”

“That’s how you’re acting.”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

“You very clearly have an issue with me going on a date, even though you’re very clearly fucking other women, and now you’re putting him down even though you know nothing about him. I don’t know, seems to me like you’re acting like a winy little brat. As per usual.”

“I don’t give a fuck who or what you do, just don’t come crying to me when the sex is shit.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” you huff before hanging up.

Why are you mad? Why is he mad? He says it means nothing to him, so what’s the fucking issue? These thoughts and more run through your head, as you decide to it’s time to say goodnight and make your way upstairs.

Another reason you hate yourself for sleeping over at Lloyd’s.

No, it’s not like you two were cuddled up together or anything, but it was nice to not sleep in an empty bed. You’ll never tell him, but you want to fall asleep next to him again. You want to fall asleep next to someone who isn’t completely foreign to you.

This sucks.

When you wake up, you pull the covers over your head, tired of dealing with any and every thing. You have a ton of work you need to get done, but you don’t care. Nothing really matters anymore and you just want to disappear. When you grab your personal phone off your nightstand, you groan in frustration when you see you have a string of texts from Lloyd.

American Psycho: Listen, I’m not mad that you have a date, I’m annoyed because you didn’t tell me. You and I are very clearly fucking each other and it would’ve been nice to have a heads up, Cupcake.

American Psycho: I don’t even know why you want to go on a date with a fucking doctor of all things. You can do so much better.

American Psycho: It’s not like he’s even going to understand you. You can’t ever be honest with him, even if you do fall in love with him. He’s never going to know the real you. He can’t.

American Psycho: You just expect him to understand one day? You think he’s going be forgiving of all of the shit you’ve done? You think he’s going to be understanding?

You groan in frustration before forcing yourself to respond.

Y/N: Good morning to you too. I’m going on dates because I want to be in a fucking relationship, Hansen. I would have given you a heads up, but it happened right before you called me. Just because I’m fucking you, doesn’t mean I need to tell you every little thing. After I leave my Father’s business, I want some normalcy. Sorry if that doesn’t fall in line with the idea of what you want. You know that I was engaged at one point, so I don’t know why me wanting a normal life is such a surprise to you. You said yourself that what we do is just sex, so there’s no reason for you to feel some type of way. Besides, you don’t tell me when you go out and fuck other people.

You sit up and sigh, looking over at your alarm clock. Of course you slept in. You’re ready to get out of bed when your phone you let out a frustrated scream.

You don’t even know why you’re going to answer him.

“Whaaaaaat?” you groan with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t get all fucking pissy with me.”

“Lloyd, what I decide to do with my personal time is my business, and my business alone.”

“Do you even know anything about him?”

“Why is this bothering you so much?!”

“I’ve already told you: I don’t like sharing my toys.”

“At the end of this month, I’m fucking done. I want a normal life-”

“What’s so great about that?”

“It’s better than this!”

“Bullshit, Cupcake! You’re not meant to be someone’s house pet!”

“Jesus, not you too!”

“You know I’m right, Cupcake!”

“For fucks sake! I like getting flowers! I like being taken on dates! Yes, I obviously love being fucked like a rag doll, but I also love cute and sappy shit! I want to be someones wife! I want to go out and not have a fucking gun on me! I want to go out with Taj and not feel like I’m putting her in danger! I want to not lie to my best friend! I want a normal fucking life, Lloyd! So yes, I will be going on dates, because I eventually want to get married and have kids! I want a fucking family pet! I want a house with a white picket fence that has walls that will be marked up with crayon because my children will be assholes that draw on the walls! Now, unless you want to try out for the position, leave it the fuck alone! Be happy that I let you fuck me at all and be done with it!” you scream before hanging up.

You’re about to get up, when your phone goes off again.

“Lloyd, what part of what I said did you-”

“Um, this isn’t, Lloyd,” a soft voice laughs awkwardly.

“Oh,” you chuckle nervously “I’m guessing you’re Bryan?”

“Guilty,” he laughs softly “So uh...I was wondering if tomorrow night-”

“Yes,” you say impulsively before you can even stop yourself.

“Oh, that was easier than I thought it’d be,” he chuckles. “I can pick you up from your house, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Um, I can get a car service. It’s no big deal,” you laugh nervously.

“Do you like Italian?”

“I love it!”

“I know the perfect spot to take you to. Not to be lame or anything, but they do have a bit of a dress code.”

“I’ll fish out my best dress.”

“I’m sure you look amazing in anything. I have to get back, but I’ll text you the information.”

“Sounds good,” you smile before hanging up.

Fuck Lloyd Hansen.

From that moment on, every time your phone buzzes, you think it’s Lloyd (you want it to be Lloyd), but it isn’t. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re disappointed each time. It’s not like him to go a whole day without talking to you. He’s usually begging for sex or bitching about something mundane and making you laugh.

Why do you miss that so much?

It doesn’t help that he’s glaring daggers at you almost all day the next day. He doesn’t speak to you unless you speak to him first, he very much has an attitude with you, and the mission goes off without a hitch... but that’s only because you’re barely able to reel him back in, and he’s short with everyone.

You’ve cracked him.

“So, Suzanne still thinks something is going on between you and Lloyd,” your Father sighs as you take a seat in front of his desk.

“We barely even spoke to each other today. Tell Suzanne to fuck off.”

“Y/N, just tell me-”

“Nothing is happening, he’s just mad at me,” you scowl.

“What happened?”

“I’m not always nice and we got into an argument. No big deal.”

“An argument about...?”

“You don’t need to know everything about everything.”

“You do understand that fucking him will completely-”

“Can you stop bringing that up? Jesus, we’re not fucking. I have a date tonight anyway so-”

“Oh?”

“It’s a date, we’ll see how it goes.”

“Name?”

“Bryan.”

“Occupation?”

“A doctor.”

“That could be useful.”

“Frank,” you warn.

“Yeah, I get it and I won’t push. Does Lloyd know?”

“Yup.”

“You don’t think that’s the reason he’s upset?”

“It’s not my business. He’s just another job. My last job. We aren’t anything to each other and that’s that.”

“You don’t think he has feelings for you?”

“Lloyd Hansen has feelings for Lloyd Hansen. His needs come before everyone else, he’s spoiled, and that’s just how he functions. If he’s upset about anything, it’s because he wasn’t the first test driver,” you mumble, shifting your gaze to the window. “It’s not like it even matters.”

“Business aside, Y/N, tell me how you feel.”

“Lloyd Hansen is not the man I want to end up with. Yeah, we get along well enough and we have decent conversations, but he’s still an asshole. He’s someone I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with. That being said, he’s not a complete and total bad guy, I feel bad when I do hurt his feelings. He’s a friend and you feel bad when you make a friend upset,” you shrug.

“Is that all it is?”

“That’s all it can be,” you sigh as you avert your gaze to the window.

“I meant what I said that other day, Y/N. I want you to be happy. If you truly want a normal life, I want that for you. Me being up your ass about Lloyd...the boy is a paycheck, but he’s also not worth of your time and attention. Yes, Fitz wants to make sure you’re giving him a fair grade, but the parent part of me...I know Lloyd, because I was Lloyd. He’s going to hurt you and you’ve been through enough.” “All I want to do is get through this and move on in my life,” you sigh as you start to fiddle with your fingers.

“This is my fault and I’m sorry. I truly am sorry, because I’m the one that made all of this difficult.”

“Lets not start pointing fingers, because it’s not going to help anything,” you sigh, finally meeting your Father’s soft gaze. “I just need to sort my shit out. I always need to sort my shit out.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but focus on your date tonight. Have fun.”

“I get another year older and you’re all soft,” you smirk as your Father laughs. “I’ll be alright. This isn’t like last time. I’m just...I’m dealing,” you smile weakly.

“I really am sorry.”

“Just don’t worry about it. We are where we are and I’ll figure it out. One way or another, I always figure it out,” you smile before standing up. “Are we done here?”

“Yup.”

“See you tomorrow,” you smile softly before making your way out.

As you leave the building, you feel Lloyd’s gaze on you and you do your best ti ignore it. However he is or isn’t feeling isn’t your business. You’ve gotta move on.

The entire time you’re getting dressed for your date, you’re hoping and praying for a text and/or call from Lloyd telling you not to go.

Another sign that you’re being the toxic one in all of this.

By the time you’re dressed and ready to go, you have a headache and your stomach is in knots. It’s not even like you’re expecting Bryan to be “the one”, you just want to get Lloyd out of your brain. Yeah, you knew that sleeping with him wasn’t in your best interest from the beginning, but you didn’t think you’d fuck up this bad.

Never listen to Taj again.

“You look amazing,” Bryan scoffs, looking you over with a genuine smile on his face.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you smile sheepishly, taking a seat and placing your clutch on the table.

You wonder what it’s like to go on a first date and not have a gun hidden in your purse, just in case. Fuck normal people and their false sense of security.

“I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty shocked when Taj said you wanted her to set you up with me,” he laughs softly.

“Yeah, I’m starting on a new chapter in my life and I figured that I should start it off with a date with a good guy.”

“A safe bet?”

“Something like that,” you smile softly.

As the night goes on, the date goes well enough, but you’re bored. It’s not even like you can blame Bryan, because he’s doing his best. In all honesty, you shouldn’t be bored at all, but you miss Lloyd.

God, you hate that.

You just have more in common with him, so the conversations you two have are either filled with dark humor, or very honest. It’s part of the reason you hate having conversations with him. Even with him being a spoiled little shit, you can talk to him for hours about everything and nothing at once. And he makes you laugh. He’s so funny when he wants to be, and can keep you laughing until you can’t breathe.

Plus, you love the way he looks at you when you’re smiling and laughing. Even during sex. He’ll never admit it, and you don’t want him to, but the look in his eyes lets you know that he loves making you laugh and he could listen to it forever. The way he smiles at you...how could you want anything else.

Too bad Lloyd is a piece of shit.

“How’s your pasta?” Bryan asks as you take a sip of wine.

“It’s honestly amazing,” you smile, putting your glass down and picking up your fork. “I can see why you love this place so much.”

“You’re so quiet and it’s making me-”

Before he can finish his statement, a fist collides with his face. You look up to see Lloyd’s angry gaze on you.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” you yell as people come to Bryan’s aide.

“Lets go.”

“Lloyd, YOU CAN’T JUST PUNCH PEOPLE IN THE FACE! YOU CAN’T PUNCH MY FUCKING DATE IN THE FACE!” you scream as he pulls you out of your chair. You’re quick to grab your clutch, but you fight against his hold. “Lloyd-”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs before pulling out his wallet and throwing a bunch of 20 and 50 dollar bills on the table. “Sorry about your face,” he mutters towards Bryan before throwing money at him too. “That should cover any medical expenses. Now, lets go,” he glares at you, before starting to pull him out with you.

You let him drag you half way through a dark alley before you pull yourself free from his grip. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh, come off it,” he scoffs, finally turning to meet your gaze. “You were fucking bored, Cupcake!”

“Cupcake?! You’re annoyed with me right now?! I’m sorry, have I ever interrupted any of your nights and punched anyone you’re fucking in the face?!”

“I did you a favor!”

“You did yourself a favor!”

“You weren’t having a good time!”

“How would you know?!”

“I’ve been watching you since you left work, I followed you, and I’ve been watching you the entire time. I know you! You were fucking bored, because he’s boring and annoying, and I did you a fucking favor. What? Were you planning on fucking him tonight?”

“Maybe!”

“We both know he can’t make you feel anywhere near as good as I do when I fuck you! You think he’s gonna make you squirt?”

“Lets not pretend that’s something you discovered,” you scowl.

“Such a fucking bitch!”

“This is stupid, I’m going home,” you mumble as you open your clutch and go to get out of your phone.

Lloyd has you pinned against the wall in a matter of seconds. “Come home with me.”

“Stop it.”

“At the end of the month, all of this is done. Come home with me.”

“We both have to go in, in the morning-”

“I’ll drive you home myself,” he promises as he hoists you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. “Daddy loves seeing you in dresses, Doll Face,” he groans as he grinds himself against you.

“Lloyd,” you moan.

“Daddy wants to see you in more dresses, Doll Face.”

“Can’t wear dresses to work,” you moan, feeling the knot in your core tighten like it always does for him.

“Weekends, baby. I wanna see you as much as I can before we have to stop.”

“Lloyd-”

“Don’t tell me no. Please don’t tell me no,” he begs pathetically with a whimper.

You look down and meet his soft gaze, biting your bottom lip. He’s never going to tell you that he wants you, only you (and you don’t want him to), but the look he’s giving you says everything.

He’s just as gone for you as you are for him.

“We should stop now.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Lloyd-”

“Don’t, because you don’t want to either. Lets just...this will all be over soon.”

“Take me home, Daddy,” you moan, finally giving in.

Lloyd has you twice before deciding he needs a break.

“You want any dates?” he asks as you get comfortable on his bed.

“You would eat dates,” you scowl, your irritation with him still very apparent.

“What’s wrong with dates?!”

“Nothing.”

“I have a feeling that I’m going to be making up for this night for a while.”

“I mean, you punched my date in the fucking face for literally nothing so-”

“You’re acting like you were having the best time!”

“Go get your fucking dates, you pretentious fuck,” you mumble as you avert your gaze to the window.

“I fuck you till you’re stupid, and you’d think that would grant me some fucking mercy.”

“Lloyd, I’ll honestly punch you in throat if you don’t shut the fuck up right now,” you warn; your eyes giving away just how fed up you are with him.

All he does is scowl before walking out of the room. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of three seconds before your phone starts going off. You can’t help but chuckle before answering it.

“Hello?”

“LLOYD PUNCHED BRYAN IN THE FUCKING FACE?!” Taj exclaims as you burst out laughing.

“Stop it, Taj.”

“Um no, what the fuck? Where are you now?”

“Said face punchers’ house,” you groan as you lay back.

“Y/N!”

“I know! Trust me, I know!”

“Honestly, I’m just being told I’m right, right now.”

“Taj!”

“He likes you and you like him.”

“He does not!”

“That’s why he punched your date in the face?”

“I’m going now. I love you, bye!”

“I love you, too, little Miss Magic Pussy.”

“Taji!”

“Bye,” she sings before hanging up.

“Let me guess, Doctor boy snitched on me?” Lloyd laughs as he makes his way back into the bedroom, a glass of wine in hand and you know its for you.

“I mean, you did punch him in the face,” you snap harshly as you take the wine glass from him.

“Jesus, what did you want?! To ride off in the sunset with him?!”

“You don’t need to know!”

“I saved you from a boring date and bad sex. The least you could do is thank me!”

“I’m not going to thank you for being a dick, Lloyd.”

“You’re wearing my bracelet-”

“Only because I’m wearing my Mother’s locket,” you quickly interrupt without thinking.

“So that’s why it means so much to you.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not, I’m just trying to understand you more.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the most complicated person I’ve ever met.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“What can I say? I like to play with fire,” he smirks and you feel yourself becoming desperate for him all over again.

“Lloyd-”

“Shut up,” he scoffs before dipping down and kissing you deeply.

You hate how all consuming his kisses can be, “What do you want from me, Lloyd?” you breathe as you two break apart.

“Just wanna get lost in you for a little while longer, Doll Face.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels good. So fucking good.”

“And when the month is up?”

“Gotta find someone else to get lost in,” he shrugs.

“If we stop-”

“We don’t want to,” he growls.

“This is getting out of hand-”

“I promise to not punch anymore of your dates in the fucking face.”

“This is more than that, Lloyd-”

“No it isn’t.”

“Why do you keep-”

“I’m happy, Y/N,” he moans as he slides two fingers into your soaked cunt. “I’m happy and it’s because of you.”

“So, shouldn’t we-”

“No, because you’re happy too. We have fun and we need that; especially in the line of work we do.”

“Baby, I don’t-”

“It’s just two more weeks,” he pleads as he picks up his pace and your toes curl.

“Fuck,” you moan as you come undone on his fingers.

So, you silently give in. You tell him (and yourself) that it stops after the two weeks are up. It’s just sex and you don’t need him as much as he needs you. Because, at the end of the day, he’s the one that’s always seeking you out. It’ll be easy to say goodbye and that’s just a fact.

So, for the next two weeks you and Lloyd fuck like there’s no tomorrow. He comes to your house (because you refuse to go to his), and mind numbing every time. Almost like he’s making sure you never forget that he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel so amazing. However, they’re days that he comes over and wants nothing.

Those days fuck you up.

He just wants to be in your space. He watches TV while you work, plays with your hair when you’re exhausted and just want to calm down, and orders dinner when you’re putting together plans and lessons. When you ask him why he comes over, he simply says “you annoy me the least out of everyone I know.”

By the time his evaluation arrives, your head is spinning.

“So, what do you think?” Fitzroy asks as you all sit at the main table in the conference room.

You feel your heartbreaking just a bit, but mask it well as you take a deep breath. “Lloyd Hansen is ready for the CIA,” you smile. “You’ll more than likely bump heads with him from time to time, but he’s come a long way from when you first brought him to me. He’s pulled back on his methods of torture, you’ll never find anyone more dedicated, and he’s damn good on the field. He’s calm when shit goes sideways and he’s always prepared with a backup plan. Yeah, he’s still working on the whole authority thing, but he listens well for the most part. Fitz, you have a new whipping boy,” you smile sarcastically and Fitzroy responds with the same smile.

“So, what do ya say, Son? Ready to join the CIA?”

How you’re not prepared for what comes next is beyond you. It’s Lloyd. Nothing can ever go as planned, because he’s an asshole.

“No,” Lloyd responds cool, shit eating grin painted across his face.

“No?!” your Father yells as you choke on your spit.

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot these last few weeks, and I just don’t want it anymore,” he shrugs.

You look over at Carmichael, who is doing his best to hide his laughter, and shrug at him. All he does in response is shake his head.

“Son, do you know how much time and energy we’ve put into you?” Fitzroy questions, sitting up and leaning in, his anger very much showing on his face.

“No one told you to do that.”

“Lloyd-” you start.

“No, I don’t want to join the CIA anymore. However, I do want to stay here, under the watchful eye of Y/N.”

“Come again?” you question, still confused as to what the fuck is actually going on.

“What part didn’t you comprehend, Doll Face?”

“What the fuck is going on?!” Fitzroy yells.

“Watch it,” your Father warns.

“Can everyone shut the fuck up for 5 seconds?!” you question, your brain going into overdrive. “Lloyd, today is my last day. After this, I’m done.”

“Then I guess I’m a free agent.”

“Now, just hold on-” your Father starts.

“No, the deal is that I work under Y/N, or I walk. So, what do ya say, Doll Face?” Lloyd smirks at you.

With everyone’s eyes on you, you know you have to make a decision and fast. Lloyd or a normal life? Work or stability? Happiness or frustration?

One thing’s for sure; with Lloyd in the picture, nothing is ever going to be the same again.

~~

Taglist: @whxre4cevans, @fuckingbye, @maroonsunrise83, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, @autumnrose40, @emerald-evans, @chris-butt, @greeneyedblondie44, (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone!)

#Lloyd Hansen fic #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen #The Gray Man #The Gray Man Fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #fanfic smut #fan fic smut #Smut #I know I'm forgetting something #but in my defense #it's been a long fucking day

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 19: Would You Count on Me?

Summary: When Theo’s down and out, Loki recruits the other Avengers to help lift her back up. 

Contents: Similar to the last chapter, descriptions of vomiting in relation to describing a migraine. Canon typical injury descriptions. Some very (very) brief mentions of IV/needles? Soft moments and fluff.

Word Count: 6,296

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Easy Money - Lights

I expect you on your worst behavior I am a giver but you know I'm not a taker, yeah When you're riding in the night, I'll be shotgun, yeah Said you're looking for a friend, well you got one, yeah Until the last dollar Until the last dollar

Morning came far too quickly.

Even a pleasant, dreamless sleep for a few hours could not replenish Loki’s energy in the same way a full night of rest could. Yet, waking up with Theo still tangled up around him eased a surprising amount of his irascibility at his persistent insomnia.

In the soft morning light filtering in through the bedroom window, Loki took the opportunity to reassess Theo’s condition. 

Though it seemed that a night spent next to Loki with his reduced temperature helped, Theo still felt far too warm. Remnants of tear tracks lingered on fever-flushed cheeks, while her eyelids remained red and swollen with irritation. An indigo bruise, likely from the prior evening’s combat, had appeared overnight along the hollow of her cheek. It was relatively small - a bit larger than a knuckle, by Loki’s estimate - but the stark contrast of the bruise versus Theo’s gaunt complexion gave the impression that it was quite the blow. 

All in all, Theo looked as if she could sleep for a year and it still would not be enough to feel rejuvenated. 

Theo obviously needed a healer, yet Loki’s previous attempts to convince her had not proved fruitful; whether stubborn pride or an impaired mind from the illness caused such profound refusal, Loki was not sure. 

Maximoff might have more success; she possessed a keen sense for how to approach individuals in a rather vulnerable state. 

Enlisting Maximoff’s help, however, meant explaining why Theo was in Loki’s bedchamber and not her own. And though Loki trusted that Maximoff would not focus on the oddity of the circumstances, he did not trust that anyone else who caught wind of the situation would be so kind.

Briefly, the idea of returning Theo to her quarters before seeking Maximoff’s assistance came to mind. After considering the logistics, Loki quickly dismissed the idea; if he brought her back without waking her, she might become distressed upon waking in the location she specifically requested to avoid for the night. To gain Theo’s consent to return to her quarters, Loki would need to wake her, and that raised the possibility of an awkward conversation about why they laid with each other. Not to mention the possibility she would reject the proposal, which would mean Loki had roused her for nothing.

Upon concluding that Maximoff’s assistance would be necessary, Loki carefully untangled himself from Theo and slipped from the bed. After dressing for the day, he fixed the bedcovers on his side of the bed to give the impression Theo slept alone, then retrieved a pillow to place on the sofa in his great room. 

In his great room, he set the pillow at one end of the sofa, then laid atop it and conjured a blanket to cover himself with, only to uncover himself and leave the items there to imply he spent the night on the sofa. Even if Theo was no longer courting anyone, Loki did not want to risk the impression of any inappropriate or questionable behavior. His decision to spend the night with her would remain between the two of them.

With the stage set, Loki looked in on Theo one final time to ensure she hadn’t woken.  Seeing that she hadn’t stirred, Loki set off in search of Maximoff.

Knowing that Maximoff regularly took her breakfast around the present moment, that was Loki’s first destination - sure enough, Maximoff sat at the breakfast bar in her pajamas, halfway through a bowl of cereal as she looked over the morning paper. Her mobile sat in front of her as if she were expecting some sort of communication, but the screen remained dark.

Unfortunately, Maximoff was far from alone: Romanoff, Barnes, and Wilson also sat at the breakfast bar, all at varying points of their morning meals and routines. Romanoff and Wilson had dressed for the day, while Barnes sported a threadbare that he only wore for sleeping and had yet to tame his sleep-disheveled hair.

At the sight of Loki, Barnes managed a half-grunt of acknowledgement, while Wilson offered a wave and a short greeting. Romanoff, ever the vigilant assassin, studied him with a dissecting gaze that made Loki suspect she already knew Loki was not there for breakfast.

Maximoff, hearing the others, glanced up from the paper and spotted Loki. “Morning Lo—“

“Maximoff, I require your assistance.” Loki skipped the pleasantries, having little interest in anything social at the moment. 

Doing so, however, piqued everyone’s curiosity. Wilson sat up a bit taller in his seat. “Oh boy—“

“—What’s up?” Maximoff set the paper aside, giving Loki her full attention. Beside her, Romanoff glared at Wilson.

“It’s Theo.”

The soldiers shot each other an unreadable glance, Romanoff returned to studying Loki with her perpetually neutral, yet mildly suspicious gaze.

“What about Theo - is she alright?” Maximoff frowned, glancing down at her mobile and then returning her attention to Loki. “I texted her last night but she never got back to me.”

“She’s unwell, yet twice now she has refused my suggestions to see a healer.” Loki ran one hair through his hair, realizing as his fingers caught on a knot that he forgot to address his own tangled tresses. “I’m hoping you might talk some sense into her.”

“Care to elaborate?” Romanoff shot Loki an expectant glance, one meticulously groomed brow arching to emphasize her question.

“Vomiting, fever, chills, fatigue,” Loki rattled off the list of symptoms he observed, careful to keep a neutral tone. “I suspect some aches and pains, though she did not admit to it.”

“Why’d she tell you that she’s sick, but not Wanda?” Barnes, notably more awake than when Loki first arrived, narrowed his eyes at Loki. “She tells Wanda everything.”

“She didn’t tell me,” Loki flatly answered, mirroring Barnes’s stare. “I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard a commotion in her quarters and investigated; the noise was Theo stumbling to her washroom to be ill - I found her hunched over her toilet.”

Maximoff hummed, sounding appropriately concerned. “When was this?”

“Last night.” 

“And you didn’t tell me then?” Maximoff practically leapt  to her feet, abandoning her breakfast on the countertop as she rounded the breakfast bar and broke into a stride.

“Wait—” Loki called to Maximoff, who had somehow nearly reached the corridor, “— Where are you going—“ 

“To check on her,” Maximoff replied over her shoulder, “obviously.”

“She is not in her quarters,” Loki warned, to which the Scarlet Witch stopped in her tracks and turned back to the him.

“If she isn’t there,” Romanoff asked, adopting a skeptical expression, “where is she?”

Loki sighed; he hadn’t wanted to explain this in front of a crowd, but it did not seem like he had much choice. He steeled himself for the sarcastic comments that his peers would undoubtedly make in response before he answered. “In mine.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, back up—“ Barnes interjected, “— why is she in your bed?”

“Because it was the only way I could convince her not to spend the night on her bathroom floor.” Loki dryly replied.

“You couldn’t convince her to go back to her own bed?” Wilson questioned, his suspicion clear in both tone and facial expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be a silver tongue or some shit?”

“The charm of a silver tongue requires that both parties are of sound mind—“ Loki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “— I suspect she was delirious with fever.”

“Enough, we’re going—“ Maximoff turned, starting down the hall without bothering to check whether or not Loki followed. 

A few rapid strides brought Loki alongside Maximoff, whose hurried pace was no match for Loki’s long legs. 

Mutters of “this I’ve gotta see,” along with scraping chair legs, came from behind as Barnes, Wilson, and Romanoff rose to their feet, catching up to the pair of sorcerers with a light jog.

Begrudgingly, Loki allowed everyone into his quarters. An audience as Maximoff tried to talk sense into Theo seemed a bit inappropriate, but Loki doubted that he could effectively make the case without additional teasing, and he lacked the patience for such asinine behavior. 

After allowing the others to step into the bedchamber, Loki followed and closed the door behind him. Audible, gasps and worried murmurs filled the air as the others saw Theo’s state for themselves.

In the time Loki had been away, Theo rolled over to the side of the bed with the waste bin, kicking some of the blankets off of herself and tangling others around her legs in the process. A sheen of sweat had taken up residence upon her brow, glittering in the morning sun. In the new position, the bruise upon her cheek looked as if a spotlight had been shone upon it. She appeared no less ill than before, and the evidence of the prior night’s tears remained fully on display. 

Were it not for the faintly visible rise and fall of her chest, it would have been easy to assume she was deceased.

“Damn,” Barnes’ prior amusement faded, color draining from his face as his eyes scanned over Theo’s appearance.

“She looks rough,” Wilson stated the obvious, his eyes wide and lips turned down at the sight.

“You see the reason for my concern.” It was the rare occasion where Loki did not relish being able to prove his point, as this involved the suffering of a friend. He hadn’t ever seen Theo come undone in such a manner, and even at that moment he had no desire to ever see it again. 

Meanwhile, Maximoff crouched down beside the bed, resting one hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Theo?”

Theo whimpered, shifting slightly before barely cracking one eye open. 

“Hey,” Maximoff offered a small, concerned smile, “heard you’re—“

The unmistakable sound of retching silenced Maximoff mid-sentence as Theo lurched toward the edge of the bed and buried her face into the waste bin.

“Oh, detka —“ Maximoff rubbed Theo’s back as Theo vomited yet again. How Theo had anything in her stomach to expel after her previous bouts of illness, Loki had no idea, but apparently something had been there.

In the midst of everything, Romanoff had taken a seat on the floor, steadying the waste bin with one hand while resting the other hand on Theo to ensure she did not fall out of bed.

A shaky sigh came from Theo, whose head still remained in the bin. She remained in place, body trembling from either chills or exertion, as if she thought the fit had passed but she was not ready to push it.

“Theo?” Maximoff tried again, continuing to rub Theo’s back.

“What?” Theo groaned, her voice notably quiet.

“You seem pretty sick…”

“It’s a migraine.” Theo hesitantly lifted her head from the bin, then listlessly rolled onto her back and covered her eyes with one arm. “Give it a couple days, it’ll pass.”

“You have a fever,” Romanoff pointed out,  “Migraines don’t cause fevers.”

“Mine do,” Theo muttered. 

Maximoff and Romanoff shared an uncertain glance, both turning to look at Loki for a moment before exchanging a second uncertain glance.

“If it takes a couple days to pass, does that mean Loki’s not getting his bed back?” Wilson broached the subject, diverting the conversation from concerns of Theo’s illness towards the much less significant matter of occupying Loki’s quarters.

Romanoff, Maximoff, and Loki all shot Wilson their most venomous glares in an attempt to silence him, lest he make matters worse. In response, Wilson’s eyes grew wider, only then realizing his error.

“Shit.” Theo pulled her arm away from her eyes, cracking them open just enough to take in her surroundings; with a wince, she closed them and returned her arm to its original position. “Forgot about that… Sorry.”

The latter part of her statement was obviously directed at Loki, even though Theo hadn’t actually looked at him; that being said, she hadn’t looked at anyone during the interaction, so it did not seem to be an attempt to ignore or avoid him.

“Give me a minute,” Theo pressed herself up to sit, her arms trembling with the effort required to the degree that the prospect of walking back to her quarters seemed absurd at best. “I’ll go back to my room…”

She turned to set both feet on the floor, drawing in a deep breath before she tried to stand—

— Key word tried, because had it not been for Romanoff’s proximity and lightning reflexes, Theo would have ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Instead, Romanoff caught Theo, gracefully steadying Theo while Romanoff rose to her feet. 

“Let’s not overdo it, Kotik,” Romanoff quietly tutted, easing Theo down to sit on the bed, with her back against the headboard to support her body. 

Face flushed crimson, Theo curled in on herself and wrenched her eyes shut. Her lower lip quivered as she drew in, then let out a shaky breath.

“Boys, out—“ Romanoff directed, pointing at the door as she narrowed her eyes at the trio. 

Barnes and Wilson, all too familiar with Romanoff’s threatening tone of voice, wasted no time making their exit. Loki, however, hesitated; after all, he had every right to remain. The outcome of this conversation impacted him. 

Romanoff glared at Loki, jutting her chin out towards the door, but Loki crossed his arms. 

“This is my bedchamber. And, might I remind you, I was the one who tended to her last night.” Loki quietly challenged, mirroring Romanoff’s glare.

“Nat, it’s fine,” Theo sniffed, half-heartedly wiping at her eyes. Romanoff turned to Theo, frowning while Theo continued her attempts to gather herself. “He’s right.”

Romanoff sighed disapprovingly, but relented, returning the rest of her attention back to the bed.

“Detka, I know you don’t want to, but you really need to go to the doctor,” Maximoff sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from Theo’s face. “Please— what if the person who attacked you had poison on his blade or—“

“No,” Theo weakly shook her head, eyes glassy and her voice pleading as she looked at Maximoff, then Romanoff, and finally at Loki. “It’s my fault. I used too much magic.”

Oh.

Upon the revelation, Maximoff and Loki shared a knowing glance.

Overuse of one’s magic - a situation Loki had experienced a time or two in his life, and not one he was keen to repeat if he could help it. Not only was it horrendously unpleasant - each instance rendered him completely invalid for days on end — but the embarrassment that came from one’s weaknesses being on full display brought about a shame that to this day, Loki could not shake.

“It was stupid—“ Theo wiped her eyes and swallowed thickly. “—I’m sorry—“ 

“It’s alright,” Loki quickly reassured, forcing what he prayed was a comforting smile. “Maximoff and I are no strangers to the effects of overextending ourselves.”

“Yeah, but I kept you up all night and then took over your room because I was freaked out from a nightmare—“ A hitching breath cut Theo off, accompanied by a pair of tears streaking down her cheeks, “—and now you’re stuck with me invading your private space for days while I puke my guts out because I can’t even walk back to my room—“

“How about this,” Maximoff gently interrupted, not an ounce of reproach in her voice; she paused to brush away one of Theo’s tears. “We’ll help you back to your bed. Once you’re settled in, we’ll call a doctor to come up and prescribe you something to manage your symptoms until you’re back to feeling like yourself - they've done it for me when I pushed myself too hard, and it really helps.”

“Besides, it sounds like we owe you a girl’s night with lots of ice cream and complaining about men,” Romanoff added with a wink. “That can’t happen until you’re healthy again.” 

Theo narrowed her eyes at Romanoff, brows pinching together as she mulled over Romanoff’s remark. “How’d you know?”

“The internet,” Romanoff answered, then added: “Sounds like he was an ass about it.”

A quiet, watery laugh snuck out of Theo; with a small sniffle, she nodded. 

“Luckily, you have a list of super soldiers and gods who would be more than happy to put Chris in his place,” Maximoff commented with a smile that somehow was both tender and mischievous. “And who would happily help you back to your bed. Take your pick.”  

Theo looked up at Loki, a silent request in her eyes.

Romanoff followed Theo’s gaze. “Loki?” 

“I’m willing to assist.”

Once Loki scooped Theo into his arms and they confirmed she wasn’t about to be ill, the trio emerged from Loki’s bedchambers to find Wilson and Barnes sitting there, staring at the door.

“Where to?” Wilson slapped his hands on his knees before standing, his attention darting from the members of the group to Theo, curled up in Loki’s arms.

“Theo’s room,” Maximoff answered, leading the group to the corridor. 

“No doc?” Barnes questioned as he trailed behind. 

“Making a house call,” Romanoff replied over her shoulder. 

The soldiers and the widow waited in the main room of Theo’s quarters while Loki and Maximoff brought Theo to bed, only for Maximoff to dismiss Loki as soon as Theo had been set down upon her bed.

This time, Loki did not protest, though he did offer Maximoff a curious glance before taking his leave. 

In Theo’s main room, Romanoff stood by the window, one arm crossed in front of her while the other held her mobile to her ear, mid-conversation with what Loki assumed was someone from the infirmary.  The soldiers had made themselves at home on Theo’s sofa, snickering to themselves as they discussed something in voices too low for Loki to hear.

At the click of the door latch, both soldiers’ attention snapped to Loki, both wearing smug grins that made Loki’s hair stand on end.

“Out with it,” Loki grumbled, knowing one or both of the men had some snide remark on the tip of their tongue.

“I can’t believe you brought someone back to your place with no plans to hook up.” Wilson’s grin only widened as he spoke, eyes glinting and tone deceptively light.

“I’m not such a monster to abandon someone in a time of need,” Loki scoffed, opting to lean against a wall with arms crossed to maintain as much distance between them as possible.

“Never said you were,” Wilson held his hands out in a placating gesture, infuriatingly wide smile still on display. “It’s—“

“Dr. Harper should be here in a few minutes,” Romanoff interrupted, approaching the rest of the group while returning her mobile to her pocket. “A crowd isn’t necessary; Wanda and I can take it from here.”

“Fine, fine,” Barnes relented, rising to his feet. Wilson echoed his movement moments later, grumbling to himself about having to leave. “We’ll get outta your hair.”

Barnes and Wilson departed; Loki, however, did not budge. 

“If it’s alright, I’d rather see this through,” Loki explained, after Romanoff gave him a curious look. 

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, taking up residence in the seat which Barnes abandoned hardly a minute before, perfectly content to sit in silence as they waited.

I'll be there in the hеat of the cold war I wanna be the onе that you're flipping your coin for, hey And if money is time, then I'm burning mine When you're off the line and I'm drinking mine, and I'm gonna see that we get all we deserve 'Cause baby you know that I'm a man of my word, so

Dr. Harper was someone Loki had seen in passing when he’d stop into the infirmary to visit with Theo, but he’d never spoken to Theo’s colleague. Over the time since  Loki befriended Theo, he gleaned that the pair of doctors were friends, knowing each other from before either doctor worked in the infirmary. 

To his surprise, the doctor did not knock before entering Theo’s quarters, strolling in as if she were right at home. Clad in black scrubs and a crisp white overcoat, and with raven hair twisted into a loose bun, Dr. Harper looked as if she came straight from the emergency ward, right down to the small duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

If Dr. Harper was concerned about Theo, she didn’t show any outward signs, casually greeting Romanoff and Loki with a quick wave before disappearing into Theo’s bedchambers.

Recognizing that it would likely be some time before any news, Loki finally abandoned his spot leaning against the wall in favor of the empty space on the sofa. If he were alone, he’d investigate the options on Theo’s bookshelf for something to entertain him, but with Romanoff around he did not wish to raise any suspicion. 

Loki clasped his hands together in his lap, leaned back into his seat, and closed his eyes. 

The faint hint of vanilla, likely from the plethora of candles Theo loved to burn, tickled his nose, as did the scent of fresh flowers. Beneath that, hints of coffee and something spiced - reminiscent of Theo’s perfume - caught Loki’s attention. 

He smiled to himself, slowly drawing in another deep breath and basking in the smell. Sitting in the quiet, Loki eventually found himself floating in a place that wasn’t quite dozing, but wasn’t quite awake either; had it not been for the faint creak of door hinges interrupting the peace some indeterminate amount of time later, he very well might have fallen asleep then and there.

“Did he fall asleep?” Maximoff whispered, completely dragging Loki out of the comfortable state he’d settled into.

“No,” Loki sighed, blinking his eyes open to find all three women - Romanoff, Maximoff, and Dr. Harper - looking at him. He sat up a bit, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted in his seat. “I presume there is a reason you’re all gathered here?”

“You wanted to know what the plan was,” Romanoff said, some strange sense of amusement glistening in her eye. “We’re discussing the plan.”

“Good news is this can be dealt with here - honestly, between her photosensitivity and phonophobia, all the bright lights and sounds would make her feel worse.” Dr. Harper explained, attention shifting between the trio of Avengers as she spoke. “I’m going to put in for a home care nurse to visit and set up an IV with fluids, as well as what we usually refer to as a ‘migraine cocktail’ - it’s a mix of medications meant to treat severe migraines. Even though she’s not technically experiencing a migraine, it will still help with her symptoms. I’ll note it as PRN so if the medicine wears off and symptoms return, all you need to do is call down and they can send someone up to run another round of medicine and likely some more fluids. 

“The only concern I have right now is about dehydration. Right now, she’s pretty dehydrated, which if not addressed can cause serious complications. Even if she isn’t throwing up, sweating a lot without drinking anything can make dehydration worse.”

“How do we know if she’s getting worse?” Romanoff inquired.

“I’ll have the nurse bring a list of symptoms to watch for - if you see any of them, call us right away.” Dr. Harper replied, then added: “the nurse will also complete a brief exam when they start the infusion and when it finishes, plus they will periodically check in on her to make sure things are running smoothly. If you’re ever unsure, feel free to call or text me. I’ll give you my cell number.”

“Based on your report, it seems you’d like someone to look after her?” Loki ventured. 

“Ideally, yes,” Dr. Harper confirmed. “You don’t have to have someone with her 24/7, since she’ll likely spend most of the recovery time sleeping — but checking in semi-frequently is a good idea.”

“Anything else we should do to help?” Maximoff asked, her attention fully focused on the doctor.

“There are a few things that I’d recommend,” Dr. Harper answered. “Keep the room dark and quiet to help with the sensitivity to light and sound. When she’s awake, try to have her drink as much as she can - ideally electrolyte drinks, but water and juice are also fine... I doubt she’ll want to eat, but if she is hungry and she’s not nauseous, stick to bland food and take it slow. 

“Otherwise? If she’s tired, let her sleep, even if that means she’s sleeping 95% of the time. Sleep is crucial for healing.” Dr. Harper smiled at Maximoff. “Remember, if you have any questions along the way, you can always send me a message or give me a call.”

After exchanging contact information, Dr. Harper departed.

“I’ll stay with her for now,” Maximoff volunteered, “Lokes, you were up all night with her; you should go, catch up on sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Loki protested, hesitant to leave despite the knowledge that the situation had been addressed. “Truly—“

“You pretty much fell asleep on the couch and you were getting snippy with Sam and Buck,” Romanoff countered, “You get that way when you haven’t slept enough.”

“Go to bed — I promise, we’ve got this.” Maximoff offered Loki a hand and a reassuring smile. “You can stop by later if you want.”

Loathe as he was to admit it, his sleep deprivation had become rather burdensome. 

Begrudgingly, Loki accepted the hand and allowed Maximoff to pull him to his feet. “If you insist, I will take my leave.” 

Upon returning to his own quarters, Loki went to clean up the waste bin to discover that it had been taken care of for him. Instead of sitting beside the bed, the container had been returned in its usual location, a random drop of water indicating it had been washed, as well as with a new bag lining the interior.

The thought of someone in his quarters raised a bit of internal concern, but the relief of not needing to complete such a tedious task quickly overtook the discomfort.

A quick snap of his fingers closed the drapes, plunging the room into darkness. Loki didn’t bother to change into pajamas, instead stripping down to his boxers before collapsing atop the bed. He rolled onto his side and took a deep breath, surprised to find the lingering herbal scent of Theo’s shampoo, interspersed with the salt of clean sweat and a tinge of vanilla, had infused itself into his pillow.

For the second time in less than twenty four hours, Loki drifted into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

If your bills are late And you're low on steam You know what they say “Only the broke can dream” And if time is money And the math is right You don't gotta spend your money Baby, just spend the night, so

After three days of hiding away in her room while sleeping off the effects of overextending herself via magic, Theo felt well enough to emerge from her suite.

Having made the mistake of pushing herself too hard before, Theo knew it would take some more time to get her energy back, even after sleeping more in three days than she typically would in three weeks. But she no longer relied on medication to eliminate her nausea and pain, sudden lights or sounds no longer felt like someone drilling into her skull, and her fever broke sometime during the second day.

Feeling well enough, however, was not quite enough to inspire any adventures.

The lingering embarrassment of causing her own misery made Theo want nothing more than to hide away for an eternity, no matter how many times Wanda promised it wasn’t a big deal. One cursory glance at her phone showed an avalanche of notifications - news alerts about her and questions about if the rumors of her breakup were true. Being sick gave her an excuse to avoid talking about the breakup - after all, no one wanted to be that guy who made a sick person feel worse by bringing up a painful topic - once people realized she was feeling better, they’d jump on the chance to rub salt in the wound.

She hadn’t worked up the courage to look at any of the headlines, knowing that Chris’s most rabid fans would inevitably have plenty of nasty things to say about her. It probably didn’t help the gossip cycle that she hadn’t yet commented on the matter, but that was a bandaid she wasn’t quite ready to rip off.

And that wasn’t even getting into her embarrassment about what Loki saw, much less how she essentially stole his room from him for a night.

So, even though she’d been cooped up in her room for three days, Theo ignored the innate restlessness that came with recovery and stayed right where she was - laying in her bed, staring at her ceiling and contemplating the life choices that led her to her current state.

“I’m surprised you’re still in bed,” A low, velvet voice interrupted her brooding, prompting Theo to look over at the door. 

Loki leaned against the door frame, arms crossed loosely and aventurine eyes sparkling as he regarded Theo with a soft smile. Dressed in a charcoal hoodie and dark, slim-fit jeans, he looked more than ready for a relaxing day at home. 

Shit - Theo was not ready for this.

“You’re not one to remain stationary for long when you’re well,” Loki elaborated, leaning away from the doorframe as he studied her. “From what Maximoff told me this morning, you were supposedly feeling much better.”

“I do feel better,” Theo replied with a half-hearted smile and a small shrug.

“Yet, you remain in bed.” Loki stepped into the room, soft smile slowly shifting into a hint of a frown as his brows pinched together. 

“I…” Theo faltered, unable to whip up some clever excuse or diversion. “Yeah, I’m still in bed.” 

Loki perched himself at the edge of the mattress, shoulders tensing as Theo finally sat up in response. He watched, only looking more worried as Theo slid back to lean on the headboard, drawing her blankets up before looking back at him and forcing a smile.

“Is something the matter?” Loki seemed hesitant as he asked, searching Theo’s eyes for some unknown validation. “You seem quite distant. Have I done something wrong?”

“No!” Theo blurted out the answer without thinking, frantically shaking her head with enough vigor that Loki startled. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for the other night – it’s embarrassing that you had to deal with me when I was like that.”

Loki’s expression softened, and his shoulders relaxed a bit at the answer, though it wasn’t quite the level of ease that Theo had grown used to. “Why would you apologize?”

“Because you didn’t deserve for me to have a nuclear meltdown and to be stuck dealing with the aftermath,” Theo replied. “We give each other shit and joke around and talk about books - you didn’t sign up for me having a nuclear scale meltdown or picking my dumbass off the floor and making sure I was alright when it was my own damn fault that I felt awful to begin with. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d even want to look at me after that - I was a mess.” 

As Loki listened to Theo’s explanation, his shoulders continued to relax, while the gentle smile from earlier made its return. 

Before Loki replied, a quiet laugh – barely more than a puff of air – snuck out. “You forget who my brother is; he has most assuredly forced me to tolerate much worse, for far less noble reasons.” 

“Puking out his guts and bawling his eyes out about a breakup with no explanation, then taking over your bed and preventing you from getting any sleep while getting his sweat and probably some vomit on it?” Theo skeptically challenged, narrowing her eyes at Loki.

He laughed, hiding his smile behind one hand as he shook his head. “Darling, when it comes to Thor, that wouldn’t even break the top 100.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, but alright,” Theo conceded; Loki’s answers had eased a bit of her embarrassment, but she wasn’t entirely over the discomfort. “Either way, thanks– for the other night, and for not making me feel worse about it afterwards.” 

“Of course,” Loki answered like he had been thanked for something simple like handing Theo a pencil, not dropping everything to be there for Theo when she completely fell apart. He opened his mouth to speak, paused for a moment, then added: “Has it occurred to you that you give all your time, compassion, and energy to caring for others in their time of need, without judgment, yet you refuse to consider that others might wish to do the same for you?”

Theo, caught off guard by Loki’s observation, laughed nervously. 

“That’s a conversation for my therapist.” She tried to make it sound like a joke, hoping that Loki would get the hint to drop the subject for the moment. 

“Are there other matters that keep you confined to your bed, or are those only discussed with your therapist?” Loki tried, infusing a similarly lighthearted tone to his question.

Knowing Loki, he’d figure it out sooner or later; no use in delaying the inevitable.

“I’m not ready for the questions and comments about Chris,” Theo admitted, staring down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. “Or the pity looks that come with getting dumped. Or people’s reactions to learning I literally made myself sick from magic.”

The bed shifted beneath Theo; she looked up to find Loki moving to sit beside her, intentionally leaning over to bump her shoulder with his. 

“You’re not the first Avenger to endure heartbreak - the others know well enough to let you address the matter on your terms. Though I will say, Romanoff and Maximoff have an arsenal of insipid - truly, downright asinine romantic comedies ready for when you want to partake in your quote-unquote girl’s night.” Loki chuckled to himself as he continued: “Additionally, Belova and Barnes have started a competition of who can come up with the most overly-elaborate revenge schemes; I’m certain they would love to indulge you if you’re feeling particularly spiteful. Even Rogers has contributed an idea or two.” 

The thought of Steve, of all people, proposing a revenge plot coaxed a real laugh out of Theo, which in turn widened Loki’s grin. 

“As for the rest of Midgard, they are not even aware you were ill; they simply think you’ve been occupied with matters related to the Avengers, and far too busy with truly important work to concern yourself with a pathetic Midgardian who could not even show you the respect of ending the relationship face-to-face.” Loki added, his tone shifting to downright disgust as he described Chris.

“You sound pissed at him…” Theo commented, not sure what to make of Loki’s sudden shift in temper.

“I will admit, I may have assisted in the development of a few of Barnes and Belova’s revenge fantasies.” Just like that, Loki returned to his usually clever self, offering Theo an impish grin to accompany his wry remark. “But we need not discuss further, if you wish.”

“Maybe later.” Without thinking, Theo let her head tilt to the side, resting on Loki’s shoulder; the conversation with Loki had alleviated some of her worries, enough to make her reconsider the decision to stay in bed. “A change of scenery would be nice.”

Loki turned to Theo; with the angle of her head upon his shoulder, Theo could feel Loki’s satisfied  grin as it curled over his lips. 

“I knew you wouldn’t stay hidden away for long,” Loki murmured, his breath a comforting warmth upon Theo’s scalp. He sat up and away from the headboard, rising effortlessly from the bed before offering a hand to Theo and helping her to her feet. His hand found a place on the small of her back as they walked through Theo’s suite, reminding Theo of all the other times Loki naturally looked out for her, all the while never making her feel uncomfortable or guilty about it. It struck her that for so long, Loki was seen as a bad person because of past events, but the reality was that anyone would be lucky to have him as a friend - Theo certainly felt lucky to have him looking out for her.

Just before they reached the door, Theo turned to Loki and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. 

A small grunt of surprise came from Loki, though he returned the gesture without missing a beat.

“I know I said it before, but really - thank you,” Theo tried to explain herself as she leaned away, cheeks heating up at how basic she sounded. “As embarrassing as the whole meltdown thing was, I’m glad you were the one there to help me through it.”

Loki leaned away as well, a sheepish smile on his face as he replied:

“I’m glad I was, too.”

Tell me, would you put your money on me? Count it - one, two, three Both of us are trouble with a capital “T” But you're safe with me I wanna know baby, would you count on me? 'Cause I'd bet on you, baby, that's easy money That's easy money

—————

Author’s Note: Hello friends!

I'm trying something new - author's notes at the end of the chapter instead of the beginning.

Last week had all of the hurt, this week has lots of comfort and soft fluff. And Sam and Bucky being Sam and Bucky. 😂🥰

Here’s the deal: I’m about to head into the busiest time of year for work (between the 18th and 29th of March, I will not have any days off and will clock about 120 hours of in-person meetings and events - that isn’t including things that I need to finish independently); in addition, my capstone and independent study report for my master’s are due on April 19th, followed by my master’s portfolio on April 26th.

Over spring break I tried to write ahead as much as possible, but I haven’t made the progress I was hoping to make. As it is, this chapter is just sliding in before the end of the night. With that in mind, I’m hoping to sneak a chapter out once I have the chance to flex some time at work in a few weeks, but in the absolute worst case scenario, that first weekend in May is reading period for my students and when my schedule completely clears out, so I’ll definitely be able to share something then! Anyways, thanks for your patience, and hope you enjoy <3 reblogs are always appreciated, and lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

#loki #loki fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #loki x oc fanfiction #loki fluff #loki comfort #loki slow burn #friends to lovers #Avengers AU #wemtbb #when everything's made to be broken #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki angst

[endlesslysleepdeprived]

Rivals With Benefits

Fandom: Gotham

Ed Nygma x Fem!Academic Rival!Reader

Cw: College Au, tall reader, suggestive, no smut tho, Y/n is kinda rude. Ed is a cocky bastard, think like he already was kind a like the Riddler in high school.

Word Count: 4.1k

They had gone back and forth like this for the last week. Each time their little quips and witty comeback became more frequent, their stares more intense, Edward was starting to get the feeling that he had made a mistake. He had underestimated her and now he was paying for that assumption. Now, with every interaction came a little twinge of… worry? Excitement? He didn’t know what it was but it was becoming unbearable. Every time their eyes met, he felt this tug at his stomach, that he couldn’t ignore.

"What are you looking at Nygma?" Y/n asked looking at him coldly, making sure he wasn't cheating off of her.

He raised an eyebrow at the question. Her tone suggested annoyance, but there was still that hint of something else lingering behind her eyes. A secret that he would love to see her keep until she slipped up and told him willingly. “Nothin, thought you could use the help.” He smirked smugly in response hoping to get a rise out of her. He’d make her angry and then he’d see how far he could push her before she broke.

"We both know you're the one who needs the help Nygma," she said fixing her hair, seeing his blood boil for a second.

Her response gave him a little pause. He found his confidence taking a dip as his eyes searched her for some sign of weakness, some hint as to how to get her to lose her temper. But as his eyes drifted across her face, he could no longer deny that twinge in his belly. Every time his eyes met hers, he was reminded that there was something different about her and as each moment of uncomfortable eye contact passed by, the more he wanted to see her face again. “Is that so?” He couldn’t help it, his voice had become low, borderline a growl.

"Yes, as my essay is done and your's isn't," She said bluntly pointing to his blank paper. "Get to work." His face was a picture of cool anger as he stared her down. Her gaze was unwavering, he had to respect her for that. She wasn’t intimidated by his bluster. “Or what?” He asked just as calmly as he could manage.

"Well the essay is due tonight at, 11 so I guess you fail the assignment." Y/n had a slight smirk on her face highlighting her tired features. She looks like she lives off of coffee and spite

Ed took out a folder with an essay showing her that he had finished it. Y/n read his essay without his consent or knowledge. "And it's absolute shit," she said smiling at him condescendingly enjoying the rise she gets out of him.

“Oh, why don’t you do it better then?” He asked with a grin, knowing that the offer would strike a nerve, she would hate having to accept it. He waited for her to reply, his smirk still upon his face. This little contest was the most fun he’d had in a while, and it wasn’t for the simple fact that he was losing. His eyes had started to be drawn to her face even outside of the competition. There was this certain… attractiveness in her boldness.

Y/n gave him her essay. She watched his jaw drop from being so impressed by her work. "Jim was right, she's amazing at this." Ed muttered to himself. Y/n took a swig of her energy drink.

He looked up at her in stunned silence, he had to admit she did a far better job than he did. He could feel her eyes burning into his back and he tried to act like he wasn’t impressed by her work. “That doesn’t mean you weren’t a pain in my ass today!” His attempt at saving face was as flimsy as a wet napkin and he knew she could see right through it.

Y/n took her essay, stood up and patted his shoulder. "Bye, Nygma. Have fun with your C." She said walking out the door to the campus library.

Her casual dismissal left him seething with annoyance. The fact that she had taken her paper before he could even ask left him feeling wronged. He stared after her in rage and he swore he saw that smirk again. The audacity, after seeing him basically fail she now walks away without even showing the slightest consideration for the work he had done.

He clenched one hand into a fist as he tried to control his rage, he only succeeded in digging his fingernails into his flesh. “She doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.” He muttered to himself as he gathered his own things to leave. Ed chased after her not letting her get the last laugh.

She heard his running feet getting closer and closer to her, but she ignored it. Until he grabbed her arm and whirled her around. She tried to fight to get free but quickly realized that strength wise he was in a different league. She stared up at him, her expression one of annoyance, her cheeks were flushed with anger. “Are you fuckin' insane, let me go!” Her tone was sharp with frustration.

"Nygma, get a hold of yourself," she said even though she was as tall as him, doesn't means she's as strong. She tried to twist her arm out of his grip, but nothing she did was enough to free her from his grasp. She stared at him with disdain not fear, though she had to admit a small bit of fear did seep into her stomach as his grip tightened. “I’ve got a hold on myself.” He said with a smirk, his hand slid up her arm as he stepped closer.

"No ya' have a hold on my arm," she said angry at him. Her Brooklyn accent coming out.

He pulled her closer, their faces only just a few inches apart as his other hand crept up towards her waist. She could see the lust in his eyes and feel his breath against her face. His hand brushed against her waist ever so lightly and he leaned in, his lips hovering close to hers, but not touching. She could feel something stirring within her, a heat rising in her core. She looked in his eyes. "Ed.." This was the first time Y/n had ever called him by his first name.

Their eyes met, the tension building between them. It was that moment of truth. All or nothing, he wasn’t going to let her go so easily, not before having a taste. He leaned in a bit closer, his lips just barely touching hers, enough to feel their touch but not enough to actually kiss. He pulled back slightly and looked down at her for a moment before leaning forward again this time a bit more forceful.

She kissed him back passionately. "This is a place of learning we shouldn't be doing this here," Y/n said softly. She was right, this was a place of learning. Perhaps that was why he had been hesitant with her. His mind had been telling him it was wrong and it was, but for some reason, as he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her, the world fell away and he only had eyes for her. The passion that he felt for her was intense and he didn’t want to stop. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.” His voice was hushed as he whispered into her ear.

"I know a place." Y/n dragged him into an abandoned classroom. "This should work."

It took him a moment to react to her pulling him into the abandoned classroom. He couldn’t help but feel some slight amount of suspicion, but whatever she had in mind he was on board. He looked around the old classroom, seeing the faded chalk markings on the wall. It looked like someone may have used the room for more than studies. “Are you sure we can’t get caught?” He asked with a smirk, not like he cared about the consequences.

"I study in here every day, and no one has found this place." Y/n said, her lips crashing against his.

He pressed her up against the wall of the abandoned classroom, the intensity of their kiss slowly growing. He let himself succumb to her kisses, his heart starting to race at just the touch of her skin. His hand reached up and cupped her jaw, running a thumb along her lips.

"God your good at this, Ed." she said, looking at him in the eyes and unbuttoning his first couple buttons of his shirt and kisses him.

He chuckled at her words, his heart seemed to be racing even more now as the intensity of their kiss grew. His mind slowly becoming foggy, the only thing in his mind now was her lips pressed against his. A moan escaped him as he felt the buttons being undone, his skin shivering in response to her touch.

"Good boy," Y/n said eating up the sounds he made. He groaned quietly as she continued, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. Her words only heightened the experience for him, his eyes drifted shut as he felt her hand moving to his collar. He leaned into it, allowing her to have more control of the situation, he wasn’t going to complain about it.

"Needy aren't we today, Ed." She teased, leaving a hickey on his collarbone, easy to hide but they will know.

He gasped as he felt her bite down against his collarbone, he knew the mark she left would be easy to hide, but the knowledge of the mark he knew would drive him wild. Her words only made his lips spread into a smug grin as he looked down to her, her eyes seemed to shimmer as the light glimmered in them. “I’m many things… and needy isn’t one of them.” He retorted, his words sounding rather smug with a tinge of arrogance.

"Oh really now darling, I mean if you aren't needy, I could just leave right now..." she teased him, but he liked it.

A small bit of panic rose within him at the thought of her just leaving. He needed that feeling again, he wanted to revel in her kisses again. “No, please don’t.” He said, his words dripping with desperation. He had come this far, he couldn’t just let her leave. "As I thought," She walked towards him slowly.

His eyes followed her body as she approached, he couldn’t help but take in every curve it presented. She knew exactly what he was doing and it only made her smirk wider as he did so. The anticipation in his heart only grew more with each step she took towards him.

She was close enough he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, and just like that she made her lips touch his again. His eyes drifted shut once more as she resumed her previous position. “I think you're the needy one.” He said, his voice was low and rich. "No, no, no I stand by my point you're very needy, Ed." Y/n said teasingly.

He couldn’t deny her assessment of him, but at the same time he didn’t care in the moment. His mind was clouded by her and he wanted nothing more than to feel her again. “Alright, L/n if you're not needy then why did you drag me here?” He challenged, his voice was bold, but there was no denying the heat in his words.

Y/n smiled at that statement. "Because, I wanted to and do as I please." He looked into her eyes as she spoke. She was right, she could do as she pleased and in this moment he knew exactly what she wanted. Her eyes were locked on his hand as it slid down to her waist, she was waiting to see what he would do next. “Well now.” His tone was low and husky, his eyes were filled with lust towards her. “Since I’m so needy, would you please let me kiss your neck? Would you please let me have a taste of you…” The words slipped out of his mouth and all he could feel was anticipation for her answer.

"Good boy, Yes you may" Y/n said in a sultry tone. She gave a slight moan as she felt his lip on her neck. He moaned quietly against her neck as he kissed her, he was enjoying the sweet sound of her moans. His lips pressed softly against her neck and his tongue ran along it teasingly. He bit down on it, just hard enough to feel it but not enough to draw blood, the sound of her moan only caused him to moan again.

"Well, there's no covering that one." Y/n said, wearing a v-neck sweater she couldn't hide that mark. “You’re damn right there isn’t.” His lips moved up along her neck, kissing it as he went. His body was pressed against hers, his arm around her back as he felt her body against his. He couldn’t control himself any longer, his other hand slid up along her thighs as he pushed her up against the wall of the classroom. “Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into her ear, his breath filling her ear with heat.

"It isn't what I planned but I don't mind" She said smiling, the chalk of her equations getting on her back. His lips moved up to her jaw again before he brought it down to her lips and kissed her deeply, his hand sliding up her body slowly. His teeth grazed her tongue as they kissed and he moaned passionately with each kiss. He let his hand move up to her neck again, his fingers grazing along the neckline of her sweater. “Well, if we are doing unexpected things I have a request…” He trailed off, his voice had a teasing tone with a bit of arrogance mixed in.

"Well ask darling, I'm not a mind reader." She said as he ran his fingers across the marks he left. “Well in that case darling, may I?” He gestured to her sweater. He raised his hand to it as if he was going to slide the sweater off. Her answer would most likely be an obvious yes given their current situation, but maybe she would surprise him. His eyes were on her now, waiting to see what she had to say.

"Maybe I should keep it on and tease you a little." She said, smirking at his blush at her statement. His shirt was almost completely unbuttoned and he didn't even consider wearing an undershirt today.

She must take great satisfaction in knowing that he was now getting flustered at his own actions. He scoffed, though he knew that he had been bested. “Ahh so I’ll have to beg a little, maybe give you a little performance for you to let me have what I want.” His tone was that of arrogance though he couldn’t help but smirk in the process.

"Oh you catch on quick, baby. Beg for it." Y/n said a sadistic look in her eyes. A little bit of cruelity never hurt.

“Ah so this is your game, I have to beg you huh?” He asked with a smirk. “Then I’ll do just that, on my knees just for you.” He dropped to his knees and looked up at her, his cheeks flushed with both shame and the desire that he felt towards her. “Please, I’m begging you to let me have this. Please!” He begged in a hushed voice, his tone mixed with desperation and lust. Y/n bent down and ran her hand under his jaw then forced him to look at her. "More." She liked this it felt good. Her arrogance getting to her head a bit.

She was forcing him to beg now, he felt as if he might just pass out from all the blood that was rushing to his face. He forced himself to beg even more, not wanting her to win. “Please, you have to. I need to, I’m begging you!” He whispered, he knew if she heard him begging like this it would push her to continue this longer. “Please, please, please, please!” He pleaded, trying to put on a desperate tone in his voice. She tilted her head in a questioning manner. "Please, what. What do you want to do Zeeskeit" She looked at him and his blushing face.

“Your sweater, I need to have it.” There was no mistaking his desperation now, his voice trembling slightly. This was a game to her but it was a war for him, every cell in his body wanted that sweater gone and it was up to him to convince her. He waited for her to say something, he didn’t even think about what he would do once he got the sweater off of her. The hunger he felt for her was the priority.

"And what do you want to do after?" She said, knowing that he had no plan but she was enjoying this sight way too much for her own good.

“I’ll figure that out once the sweater is gone.” He said, a smirk growing across his lips as he tried to hide his desperation in his voice. The hunger in his eyes grew as an idea came into his head. “How about I make you a deal?” His tone became more cocky and his eyes shifted around looking for a bargaining chip. Y/n considered it, she was curious about what he would say. "I'm a kind mistress, I'll hear it."

A smirk spread across his face as he saw an opportunity to make this a little interesting. “If I can guess your size, then I can have the sweater, if I’m wrong you can do anything you want to me.” He said, his tone daring her to accept his offer. He was confident that he knew her size well enough, he just wanted to spice this up some more. He was willing to make the game more risky if he had to.

"Alright, take a guess." It was a men's medium, she was almost always too tall for women's clothes.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment and did some quick math in his head. He felt as if he knew her measurements, but maybe this was just him being cocky. “Fine, let’s say a medium, I doubt it’d be anything more.” He said, there was a small bit of challenge to his tone as his smirk grew some more. "Men's or women's?" She asked.

He paused for a moment, he hadn’t considered that he would have to guess that as well. “Fine… men’s medium.” He said confidently, hoping he was right yet again.

"You're correct, I'm guessing because you're also a medium? Am I correct there." She said letting him take off the sweater, handing it to him. Now shivering from the cold air hitting her skin.

He watched as she started to pull the sweater off, his eyes were glued to the movement of the sweater, his body seemed to lean slightly towards her as well out of sheer desperation. There was a small smile on his face. “Correct, now I want a promise out of you though, if I win you do what I want.” He said, he wanted to be sure she would follow through with the terms of the game.

"Alrighty another guessing game, go ahead." She said wondering what his question would be and wondering if she'd allow it.

“What's your double major in?” He asked confidently. The air sent a chill down his spine and he felt his heart rate spike, but the thought of finally getting to see her shoulders made it all worth it. It would be nice if he could keep the sweater but he had a feeling she wasn’t going to give it up that easily. "Alright, but most people get it wrong." She said arms crossed for warmth.

He stared at her before answering, her body was perfect in his eyes. He couldn’t help but have a small smile creep across his lips. “How about… biochem.” He said, knowing that he was probably off the mark by a long shot.

"Ah not biochem, just chemistry." She said leaning against the chalk board. "I'll give you another chance, ask another."

He narrowed his eyes, not sure what to guess at this point. “Alright alright, I’ll ask you this then, how old are you?” He asked, maybe he could win this, but the answer she gave would be crucial.

"Take your guess, Ed." They were both freshman, but she was 19 and he was 18. Their birthdays were a few months apart.

He really wanted this and he was going to put his all into winning this game. He took a wild guess, he tried not to show the panic in his eyes as he threw this out into the abyss. “19.” He said, his heart starting to beat a lot quicker as he waited for her response.

"Yep, so you got my sweater what else do you want?" She says smiling. He was good at this, or really damn lucky.

As soon as the word left her lips his eyes gleamed with joy and he gave a loud shout of excitement. “Yes, yes, yes! I got it! That means I can do whatever I want, right?” He asked with a cocky smirk on his face. His eyes were locked on her now that he won, it was impossible to not notice how beautiful she was after seeing so much of her.

"Yes, darling. I will keep up my end of the deal." She said waiting for him to make his first move. He looked like a child on Rosh Hashana.

He laughed slightly, his eyes looking her up and down as he tried to decide what to do. “Well for starters, I’m not letting go of this sweater, it's mine now.” He smiled as he pulled her slightly closer, her body pressing slightly against his. He thought for a moment and let out a chuckle. “I want to keep the sweater. And, how about… this.” He leaned in and kissed her, his voice was cocky and his tone arrogant.

"I guess I'll have to wear your button up out of this classroom then. I can't go to advanced chem topless." She said and then kissing him back.

He moved his hands up and placed them onto her waist as they continued to kiss, he felt his emotions rush out for just a moment. Everything he felt towards her in that one second was the greatest feeling in the world. He pulled away slightly, a cocky smirk grew across his lips as he noticed her blush. “Oh no no, you couldn’t go topless, that would give everyone too much of a surprise.” He teased in a low tone, his eyes trailed down her body once again.

"Including your roommate." She said knowing that Jim Gordon liked her, it was obvious. Ed, Jim, Y/n, and Y/n's roommate Katya were all familiar with each other. Jim, Ed, and Katya being good friends from Gotham High School.

He looked at her with a smirk, he liked her knowing that Jim was into her. He felt a sense of rivalry towards Jim that made him that much more cocky. “Yeah, him too. Guess I will have to steal you away at your earliest convenience.” He teased, his voice was low, husky and almost growl like. He pulled away from her slightly, but his hands were still on her waist. “What about a date?” He asked, his question accompanied by a smile as he ran his hand down her thigh.

"I'll take it." Y/n's phone rang, it was Jim. She picked it up. "Y/n where are you we have that Lab today?" Y/n's eyes widened completely forgetting about it in the heat of the moment. "Right, give me 5. I was doing things for Biology, tutoring someone." Y/n lied through her teeth.

Ed heard the phone ringing and the look on her face made him smile. He knew as soon as the heat of the moment died down she would have to go, but that only made him want her that much more. He moved his head closer to her ear, his tone lowering once again. “I have to ask, did he sound suspicious of your answer?” He teased, his hand still grazing along her thigh.

"Not for a second." She said. "Give me your button down, you're keeping the sweater." Y/n said grabbing it off of him and buttoning it. She wrote down her number and gave it to Ed. "Call me. I guess we're now rivals with benefits." Y/n said leaving the classroom, and Ed looking stunned.

His eyes were glued to her figure as he thought. “Oh she’s definitely going to be one of the hottest rivals I’ve had.” he whispered to himself.

I hope y'all liked it, um if you want a part 2 just tell me.

#edward nygma x reader #ed nygma x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #college au #academic rivals to lovers #gotham edward nygma #rivals with benefits #Spotify