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cupid-styles · 6 months

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silk and rope 3

the final part of ddlg harry and little/submissive y/n!!!!

in which harry is a dummy, y/n gets a little too drunk, and thanksgiving is finally good for something.

word count: 8k

content warnings: daddy dom and little/submissive relationship, alcohol, a little bit of angst, SMUT!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, breeding kink, public sub drop, public play if you squint, dumbification, tiny bit of pet play.. if I missed something pls lmk lol). as stated in the first two parts, I tried to make this as accurate as possible but there are likely some things that aren't correct!! im just a girl and im sorry if something isn't portrayed right!!!!!!

thank you for reading and loving these two, while this is the last formal part of their story I will definitely be writing check-ins and blurbs for them in the future!!! enjoy :)

masterlist | talk to me

part one | part two

. . .

It doesn't take Y/N very long to realize Harry's acting weird.

Well, maybe not weird, but different. He's acting differently than he has been for the past two months, and it's giving her a bit of whiplash. She notices that it started the day after she slipped when he dropped her off at home, when he latched a collar around her neck.

Her memory of that day is a little bit hazy; the events are more so glued together in blurry snapshots of pleasure and lust, but she does know that she had fallen into her little space while he was gone. He'd punished her for the whole butt plug incident, fucked her into oblivion, and then soaked in the tub with her before falling asleep next to her.

And really, it wasn't that different from their usual scenes. The dynamic was the same, as far as Y/N can remember, it may have just been a little bit more intense.

So why is Harry acting like this?

Instead of stopping by nearly every day to make sure she's eaten and rested, he'll just text her. If she hasn't eaten lunch or dinner yet, he'll order her food to her house instead of bringing her a homemade meal or stopping somewhere on the way. When he does come over, it seems like he's always in a hurry to leave — yesterday, he picked her up from a closing shift at the bakery and barely spoke to her in the car. He came inside, quickly cooked her a dinner, and left before she'd even finished eating, mumbling out some excuse about having to feed his sister's cat.

Worst of all, they haven't slept together in a week.

It's all overwhelming for Y/N, but this time, it's in the worst way possible. She feels incredibly down as the days go on, and she spirals and wonders what she did wrong to make him act this way. She can feel the breakup coming from a mile away, but she assumes that because it's Harry, he'll bake her a cake and buy her a kitten just because he doesn't want to be too mean about it.

She hates to admit it, but she's grown attached to Harry. And she really, really doesn't want to let him go.

It's what led her to asking Naomi to grab lunch on her day off. Naomi hasn't reached out too much lately so it's been awhile since they'd seen one another, but she's known Harry far longer than she has.

(And yeah, Y/N feels kind of shitty about making plans with Naomi only to ask about Harry, but she has a nagging feeling that she's only kept her around because she feels bad she doesn't have friends outside of them.)

"I'm sorry, you and Harry are what?"

(She supposes she should have expected this type of response.)

"We're sleeping together," Y/N answers in a pathetic attempt to sound casual, keeping her eyes glued to the turkey sandwich on her plate, "But he's been acting kind of off lately, and I wasn't sure if you guys knew something I didn't."

"Well no one knew that," Naomi mutters, stabbing her fork into her salad and stuffing some lettuce into her mouth. "But to address your concerns, no, I don't know anything. Harry's notoriously private about his love life."

She clears her throat and nods. "I think he's gonna end things soon."

"Hmm, yeah," Naomi hums through a mouthful of food, "I don't think he does the whole friends with benefits thing. Lea tried once and he rejected her, it was kind of a mess. She couldn't stand to be in a room with him for like, two months."

"We're not sleeping with other people," Y/N quickly adds. "It's sort of an exclusive arrangement."

Still, Naomi shrugs her shoulders, and it doesn't soothe any of Y/N's worries.

"He may have told you that, but I honestly doubt it, babe. I'm sorry he broke your heart. He can be kind of an asshole in that way."

If anything, Y/N feels even worse now. The gears in her brain are turning too fast and she's starting to feel nauseous, putting the puzzle pieces together and envisioning what her life will be like without Harry after she's gotten so used to him taking care of her.

"Anyway, Bria is having a party this weekend," Naomi says, breaking her out of his spiraling thoughts, "You should come. It'll get your mind off things and you can find someone new to fuck."

She winces at her crude terminology, not because she's offended by it but because she thinks what she and Harry are doing is more than just fucking.

Aren't they?

Forcing down a sip of her Diet Coke, Y/N nods. "Yeah, I'll be there."

. . .

From: H

Can I come over tonight?

Y/N bites her lip as she reads Harry's text for the fourth time. Since getting home from lunch with Naomi, she's been stewing in a series of emotions: First, sadness, followed by frustration and anger, then sadness again, then acceptance. She's managed to occupy herself with some re-runs of Jeopardy, even if it reminds her of him.

She doesn't know what the right thing to do is. What if he wants to come over because he's ready to end things? She supposes she's just putting off the inevitable, but she's been broken up with enough times and she knows how much more painful this one will be. She's not prepared for that, even if she wants to be.

Sighing, she finally makes a decision, tapping her thumbs quickly against the screen.

Y/N: hey sorry i can't do tonight. think im coming down w something, i don't feel that well

H: Do you need anything? I can bring soup and medicine, whatever you need.

Y/N: no im ok, thank you tho

H: Let me know if you think of anything.

H: Maybe later this week if you're feeling better?

Y/N: yea maybe

Tears are already clouding her vision as she locks her phone and tosses it across her couch. Desperately, she wonders why the guy she's fallen for just can't like her back.

. . .

Harry knows he's fucking up.

He wants to smack himself across the face and tell himself to pull it together, but he can't. Every single cell and bone in his body is begging him to go over to Y/N's house and make it all better, and instead, he just sits on the couch, replaying those words over in his brain. Her swollen parted lips and eyes fluttered closed, the way it sounded so effortless falling from her mouth. I love you.

He wanted to say it back. But that wasn't part of the arrangement.

She wanted someone to dominate her, to take care of her. Who would be if he took advantage of something she said after nearly two hours of play, when she'd been in her little space all day? It wasn't something he felt morally right about, but he knows he wasn't being any better. He couldn't hold himself to high standards when he was pushing her away.

It's why he's so down and out on Saturday night. Normally, he'd be snuggled up with Y/N, watching some movie or TV show, usually after or before an intense scene. Sometimes it served as a precursor to foreplay with the way he'd stroke over her thighs and play with her hair, watching as she became increasingly restless. Other times, it's what they did to unwind, a form of aftercare for both parties.

But tonight, he's not doing that. He's at home alone, confused, because Bria just texted him that she's having a party tonight and everyone's there — including Y/N.

He doesn't like that she singles her out like that. He knows that some of the girls in the group don't particularly like her because she's quiet and shy and rather reserved about her personal life. (He understands why she's that way now.) He doesn't even think Naomi is a good friend to her, but he would never go out of his way to tell her that — ultimately, she's capable of making her own decisions. However, she'd sent him some excuse about not being able to hang out a few days ago, claiming that she was sick and yet, tonight she was at a party?

Harry couldn't live with that.

So he fires off a text to Bria, telling her that he'll be there soon, dressing quickly and throwing himself together. When he's driving over to Bria's place, he makes a mental promise to himself, pledging that as long as Y/N doesn't hate him, he won't return home without her.

. . .

Y/N is drunk, and she hates being drunk.

The last time she consumed a fraction of this amount of alcohol was the night she spilled her guts to Harry. Tonight, she's downed every shot that's been passed her way. She's not sure what she's looking to achieve — she doesn't want to go home with anyway and the only person she really wants to be with is Harry — and it makes her sad. So, so helplessly sad.

Despite being deep underwater, Y/N is cognizant enough to know that no one at this party really cares for her wellbeing. They were eager to get her drunk, but once she started swaying on her feet with hazy eyes, they stopped caring. Games of beer pong and flip cup were ongoing as she sat in the kitchen, propped up on the counter with her head against the cabinets.

She feels so stupid, it makes her want to cry.

. . .

Harry attempts to play it cool when he arrives at Bria's house.

Everyone welcomes him, excited that he made it, but they have no idea that his presence has nothing to do with wanting to party. He's here for the girl who begs him to snap a collar around her neck and push a plug into her ass. The girl he happens to be very in love with.

Naomi bats her eyelashes at him and hands him a glass of wine; an attempt to schmooze him when she tells him she picked out this bottle just for him. He smiles politely.

"Have you seen Y/N? Bria mentioned she was here."

Naomi's eyebrows raise, a defensive look crossing onto her face. "Why are you looking for her?"

"We just need to talk about something," he replies dismissively, uninterested in revealing any details to her, "So, is she here? Or did she leave already?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "She got pretty fucked up when she got here. She's kind of a mess, y'know? I don't even know if she's here or not."

"What do you mean?" Harry asks, concern and worry bubbling in his stomach, "She doesn't like to drink."

"Well, she sure liked all the shots everyone was giving her."

He closes his hands into tight fists, stunned at how careless these people could be. He couldn't believe he considered them friends at a certain point.

"Where did you see her last?" he eventually questions, pushing past the anger growing in his chest.

Naomi thinks for a moment. "I think Ren may have passed her in the kitchen. Not sure, though."

She's apparently finished with this conversation, clearly annoyed that she didn't get what she wants (Harry knows she's been trying to recreate that one night they made out years ago, but he's never been especially interested). He huffs and pushes past everyone else standing around in the living room, ignoring anyone who tries to start a conversation. When he walks into the kitchen, his eyes immediately find her defeated posture, her shoulders slumped over with eyes half-shut.

"Y/N," he says, rushing over to her. He's not sure if she's even conscious, so he gently pats at her cheek. "Baby, are you alright?"

Her eyes flutter open, a look of confusion immediately taking over. "Harry?"

"Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?"

"Nothing," she mumbles through red-stained lips, "Why're you here?"

She's slurring her words and he swallows harshly, taking in her rough composure. She looks so tired and it breaks his heart to think that he could have caused this.

"Heard you were here and I wanted to make sure you were okay." he murmurs out, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Are you having a fun time?"

He already knows the answer when she shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "No. Hate being drunk."

"I know, baby," Harry coos, "Would you be okay with me taking you home? Get you all cozy in your bed?"

If she's angry with him, her level of drunkenness has made her forget about those feelings because she nods, making grabby hands at him. He chuckles and helps her down from the countertop, immediately wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.

"My car's just parked outside. Do you think you can make it there?"

"Mhm."

With a gentle smile on his lips, he tugs her out of the kitchen and guides her to the front door. He can feel eyes on them and he assumes Naomi is likely leading the pack, but he doesn't care. Frankly, he's fine if this is the last time he sees most of these people — he doesn't think he wants to continue friendships with anyone who'd want to hurt Y/N.

She's quiet as he helps her into the car, buckling her seatbelt for her and closing the passenger side door once she's safe. He's quick to do the same for himself, churning the ignition and flicking the heat on to shield her from the chilly autumn air.

"Do you feel sick at all?" Harry asks as he pulls out of his parking spot. She shakes her head. "Okay, lemme know if that changes, lovebug."

They don't exchange any more words on the way to Y/N's place. Once he's parked, he turns to look over, only to find her slumped in her seat with closed eyes, steady puffs of air coming from her nose. His heart twitches — he wishes they were coming home from a date or something romantic, but he's reminded quite quickly of her drunken state.

He leaves her in the car for a moment to use his spare key to unlock her front door. When he returns, he gently scoops her body up and out of the car. Her eyes flicker open and he hushes her, kicking the door closed.

"Can walk," she mutters out, and he nods, letting her down once they're safely in her home.

"I didn't wanna wake you up, that's all."

Y/N shrugs and kicks her shoes off, though she loses her balance and sways, Harry quickly coming to her side to steady her by the elbow.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

He looks down at the doe-eyed girl in front of him, sniffling as the words float from her lips. His stomach flutters with anxiety as he watches her eyes get watery, immediately using his thumb to wipe away the moisture from spilling over.

"Why would you ask that?" he murmurs, placing a hand to her hip.

"You don't like me," Y/N answers matter-of-factly. "And you've been avoiding me."

He sighs. He knows this isn't the right time to talk things through, especially because she's only saying these things given her swimming mindset. He hates that her mind even floated to such places, but if he's being honest, he isn't surprised — he thinks he would assume similarly if their roles were swapped.

"Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry asks softly.

She shrugs her shoulders, letting her gaze fall to her feet. "You can just do it now. I don't wanna remember anything you have to say if that's the case."

"Y/N, stop it," he says with a shake of his head, attempting to guide her up the stairs. He's slightly impressed that despite her wobbly legs, she stays put. "I'm not ending things."

"Why wouldn't you?" she fires back, looking back up at him with a defiant look in her eyes, "You promised me you'd take care of me and— and for the past week or so, you've done anything but. You've just stressed me out and made me feel bad."

Harry swallows as guilt begins to crawl its way back up his spine. He knows she's right. She has every right to be upset.

"I know," he mumbles, nodding his head, "I know. I haven't been a good dominant. I'm sorry."

"That's a shit excuse. I've heard that so many times before from guys who didn't treat me right from the start. You're different, Harry."

"Y/N..." he's getting frustrated now, disgruntled by how stubborn she apparently gets when she's drunk, "You're right about everything, but this isn't the time to talk this through. I want to do it when you're sober."

She rolls her eyes and if things were normal, Harry knows he would've grabbed her by the hips and leaned her over the steps to spank her. Instead, he lets out a breath and nudges her in the direction of her bedroom.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Y/N's protests cease after that and Harry's secretly grateful for it. She's sobered up enough to take her makeup off and change into her pajamas as he fetches her a glass of water and some Advil to take. He places them on her nightstand as she crawls into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

"Your apartment's still freezing," he murmurs, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "I'll call a repair guy tomorrow."

"Are you staying then?" she asks softly, letting her eyes close the second she smushes her cheek into the pillow.

"I will if you'd like me to."

"Okay," she mumbles, "I hope you don't break up with me tomorrow."

He lets out what feels like the thousandth sigh that evening. "Stop saying that. I'm not going to."

Y/N simply shrugs.

. . .

The next morning, Y/N wakes up with a throbbing headache. Before she even opens her eyes, she can feel embarrassment warming every cell of her body, but she can't place a finger on why. She knows something happened last night but things get a little... blurry at a certain point; her last solid memory taking shots with Naomi and Lea. From there, she has a small inkling of what happened, mainly just recalling her sitting in the kitchen by herself when she started feeling woozy and tired.

When she finally blinks her mascara-crusted eyes open (she thought she took her makeup off last night, but maybe she did a shit job of it), she nearly jumps when she realizes there's someone laying next to her.

That someone being Harry.

He has his reading glasses on and he's scrolling on his phone. Through squinted eyes, she reads the words heat repair guy best ratings in his Google search. When he realizes that she's awake, he locks his phone and clears his throat.

"Hey," he says, licking his lips, "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," she croaks out, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, only to be met with a pounding ache in her temples.

"Here, be careful," he mumbles, leaning over to his side to grab something from the nightstand. He hands here two pieces of toast and two Advil. "You should eat this before you take anything. You were pretty wasted last night, I figured your hangover would be rough."

She hums in appreciation and takes a bite of the toast, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "What are you doing here?"

He's not surprised that the details are hazy for her, so he flips onto his side to face her. "Bria told me about the party and mentioned you were there. I wanted to see you so I went, but you were, um, drunk and... by yourself. I took you home, that's all."

"Hm," Y/N nods, "Yeah, I remember getting drunk with everyone. I don't remember you being there except for us arguing here."

"We didn't really argue. You were just being... stubborn."

"About what?"

Harry sighs. "You wanted to talk about the state of our relationship and were convinced I was going to break up with you."

A beat. And then, "Oh."

"That was never my plan, by the way," he replies, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers, "I was never going to end things."

She shrugs her shoulders and places her empty plate on the floor, tossing back the Advil.

"I know I haven't been the best to you lately. I've been having a hard time trying to figure out how to approach things."

"Approach what?" she bites, laying back down. "I— all I know is that one day things were fine, and the next they weren't. You weren't being the same and I didn't know what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he shakes his head, "Just... you said something. When you were in your little space."

"I say a lot of things when I'm in my little space."

"Yeah, but this was... like, different."

"How, different?"

"More serious, I guess."

"Harry," she huffs, fisting the comforter in her hands, "I can't guess something I said when I wasn't being myself."

"You told you love me."

Y/N's head whips to the side and she immediately winces, shutting her eyes. He cringes and reaches out to touch her temples, gently applying a bit of pressure and rubbing them. It's silent for a moment as he massages her head.

"I'm sorry," she eventually mumbles, "You were probably freaked out. I'm sure I didn't mean to say it."

"Don't be sorry. I would never hold your emotions against you."

Still, she wants to hide her face in the blankets. She's embarrassed, that much is obvious. She doesn't even know if she actually loves Harry; a lot things come out when she's in her little space, some of which she means and some of which she doesn't. She supposes it's fair that he seems so freaked over it.

"I wish you told me sooner. I could've... explained myself. Maybe."

"Explained yourself?"

Y/N shrugs and lays back against the pillows. Harry follows her lead, tilting his neck so he can look at her.

"I can't say for certain that I love you or not, I've never been in love," she explains quietly, feeling her cheeks warm at the unexpected vulnerability spilling out of her, "Don't you think you could say things when you're dominating me that you don't necessarily mean? You degrade me sometimes and I know those things aren't true."

Harry thinks for a moment, pinching his lip between his fingers. "I guess, yeah."

"I would tell if you if I knew for sure, Harry. But I don't."

He nods and rolls onto his back. He doesn't know why but he feels... sad? Let down, maybe? He'd been under the impression that she loved him and, well... maybe he was okay with that.

"I'm sorry." she repeats softly. He shakes his head and reaches out for her hand, grasping it gently and giving it a small squeeze.

"Don't be. It was stupid. I overreacted."

"Thank you for rescuing me last night," Y/N murmurs, squeezing his hand back.

He pushes down the feelings of disappointment and forces a small smile on his lips.

"Anytime."

. . .

Harry tries to go back to normal after that.

He stops being so avoidant, which makes a big difference. He and Y/N are back to their near-daily hangouts, and it's easy to fall back into the routine they established before any of this happened. They're even having sex again, with Y/N readily falling into her little space every time he ties her to the bed, overstimulates her until she's crying, and fucks her open with his cock until he comes deep inside her. They never use condoms anymore, either, and the added layer of intimacy only contributes to what Harry realize shortly after that morning in Y/N's bed: he's in love with her.

He guesses he's known it for awhile, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. But when she explained why she said it, he felt so bummed that it only made sense. He'd wanted her to love him.

But Y/N is Y/N, shy and oblivious and rarely the first to bring up her feelings, so he leaves it at that. He can't think of a worse fate than them actually ending things for good this time, so he keeps his emotions to himself, locked up tight for no one to ever know.

This is a good method, he decides.

Until they're in Y/N's favorite bookshop, perusing through the section titled "BookTok" (he doesn't know what that means, but she clearly does since she has a stack of four books in her hand) and he sees it.

The familiar moony-eyed gaze, batted eyelashes, spit swollen lips. Tugging at his hand, latching onto his arm every second she can, when the word falls from her lips.

"Daddy."

He looks down with wide eyes. She never calls him that when they're in public, but now she's blinking owlishly, nibbling on the fingernails of the hand that isn't attached to Harry's arm.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asks quietly, brushing a piece of her hair out of her eyes.

"Mhm," she nods, grinning up at him, "Feeling little. 's that okay?"

He smiles gently, loving this side of her, but concerned that it's happening when they're out and about. He's never experienced a sudden sub drop before, but he knows that he doesn't want to make her feel unwanted, as if she's doing anything wrong.

"Of course, bunny," he murmurs. "Can daddy take you home, then?"

"Yes, please. Startin' to ache."

With raised eyebrows, he nods quickly, lightly tugging her head in the direction of the register. He buys her books for her, grateful that she's decided to occupy herself with the sticker display before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to his car. He buckles her in to make sure she's safe, her books piled neatly in her lap, and gets in on the other side.

She's quiet as she flips through one of her new novels while Harry periodically glances over at her to make sure she's doing alright. It's only when she starts squirming in her seat that he puts a hand over her thigh, squeezing gently.

"We'll be home soon, baby. Just hang in there for me."

"Hurts," she pouts, and Harry's heart jumps, "Please— can I— will you?"

He swallows, quickly looking over as she wiggles around. In any other situation, he'd say no — they have a pretty firm no-touching-herself rule when he's not there, but he's never seen her drop into her little space so suddenly before. Hesitantly, he nods, stopped at a red light as he reaches up to pluck at the waistband of her leggings.

"Does my baby just need to cum?" he asks as she quickly shimmies the material down.

"Need you to touch me." she whines, hooking her thumbs under her panties and sliding them to the middle of her thighs.

"Okay, okay," he murmurs. The light turns green and he presses on the gas, moving his hand up to hover over her core. Even with the distance between them, he can see how much she's glistening. "Did you make a mess for daddy? Just walking around, having a nice day, and your little pussy got all wet for me?"

"Yes," she gasps, spreading her pussy lips with his fingers.

He begins to thumb at her clit, pressing small circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. She's already whimpering in her seat, eyes falling closed as she wraps her own hand around his wrist, pulling him closer.

"F-feels so good," Y/N mewls, grinding her hips down in time with his hand.

"Such a good girl for daddy," he tries to ignore the straining in his pants as her arousal readily coats his fingers just from a few swirls around her clit. "Cum for me whenever you're ready, bunny. Show me how good you are."

Thankfully, he's turning onto his street as the knot in her core unravels, breathy whimpers and broken calls of his honorific a clear indicator that she's reached her peak. He groans as he feels her pussy contracting, back arched against the leather of the seat.

"Fuck," he mutters, pulling into the driveway, "You're so fucking beautiful."

She barely has a second to breathe before he throws the car in park and unbuckles her seatbelt. He grabs her face between his hands and smushes their lips together, a surprised squeak sounding from her mouth.

"D-daddy," she gasps, her lips curling into a smile as he squeezes her hip.

"My good girl, yeah?" he grins, breaking apart to press their foreheads to one another. "You make daddy so happy."

Y/N giggles. She's still in her floaty headspace but with one orgasm in, it's less desperate and more bubbly. A reminder of how much she adores Harry, even with the rose-tinted glasses of her little space.

"Need more," Y/N breathes, leaning back in to peck his lips, "Please? Want your cock, want you to— to cum deep inside me."

"I know, bunny." he coos, ignoring the way his length twitches in his pants at her needy tone. He reaches up to press a kiss to her forehead. "C'mon, let's go inside. Wanna take you properly."

As soon as she nods, Harry clamors out of the car and winds around to the other side to open the door for her. With her pile of books in her hand and her flushed cheeks, evident of a recent orgasm, he intertwines their fingers together and helps her to the front door, quickly unlocking it.

Harry's no psychiatrist or expert on the manner, but one of the most interesting parts of Y/N being in her little space is that she doesn't even necessarily realize what she's doing. They've spoken about it before and she's revealed that there have times where she's been so deep under, she doesn't have all of her memories. It's a scary thought, but in a stroke of complete and utter honesty, she's explained to him that she trusts him implicitly — to take care of her when her brain is fuzzy, to never take advantage of her or push her beyond her limits.

Truthfully, Harry should've known then that he was in love with her.

And when she waltzes into his apartment, placing her books on the entryway table like she lives here, he's immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, until her back is pressed up against his chest. She giggles out his honorific and it makes him smile into her hair — god, he loves her so much it might make him sick — before he mumbles out instructions to go upstairs to get undressed for him.

As always, she does as she's asked, ever keen on pleasing him. He gives her a moment as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath and running his hand over his face. He's never felt so gone over a girl before, and he's managed to keep it together with Y/N this far — but seeing the way she slipped today and knowing it's just another way of showcasing how deeply she trusts their relationship... it's almost too much.

When he does go upstairs, he's instantly reminded of how uncomfortably hard he is. His eyes wander over her naked body, sprawled out across his bed, her feet flat on the bedding with her legs arched at the knee. She's being good — there have been times where he's found her already toying with her clit or sinking the tip of her finger in, but her hands are at her sides today.

"Good girl," Harry murmurs out as he undoes his belt, the leather falling to the floor. "Tell daddy what you want."

She hums, likely unused to getting a say in the foreplay of their scenes. He realizes that she may not know how to answer, so he attempts to help her along.

"Do you wanna be plugged in your bum? Tied up? Edged?" he asks, clad only in his briefs as he places a knee on the bed and wraps a hand around her ankle. "Tell me why daddy's girl needs."

"Want a plug, please," she says softly, allowing him to stretch her legs out, "Just... just wanna be filled."

"Filled, hm?" he teases lightly, reaching under the bed to rifle through the small box of sex toys. She had a bit of a collection of plugs at home, so she'd brought over a few to keep at his place a month or so back (that had been an interesting day, when he thought she had books or extra clothes in her tote bag only to be met with toys). He pulls out the smallest one since, if he's being honest, the need to be inside her is overwhelming, and he doesn't know how long he can play with her ass before he loses his mind.

"Flip onto your tummy, angel girl." he instructs as he pulls his tee and sweatshirt off. She silently does as she's told, pressing her cheek into one of Harry's pillows. She's instantly flooded with scents of his shampoo and cologne, woody and musky and intensely comforting, and it makes her squeeze her thighs together.

Everything about him makes her warm and gooey inside, as if she's coming to the one place — or person — that always feels like home, no matter how awful of a day she's had. Akin to struggling through a snowstorm, the chill pinging through her body and down to her bones; when she's with Harry, it's like being served her favorite bowl of warm soup and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Harry is her home.

She's floating through this revelation when he pushes her ass cheeks apart, a soft gasp sounding from her mouth when he runs a lubed fingertip around the ring of muscles.

"Such a pretty hole," he murmurs, and she whimpers when she feels him spit, the saliva landing on her asshole, "Love filling you up, you know that? Every last one of these gorgeous holes."

She moans when he fits his finger inside, pushing it all the way to the knuckle. He knows she's experienced with anal so he doesn't feel like he has to be as precious about the process, knowing that she adores the sensation.

"Too bad daddy'll never share you with anyone though. No one will ever get to see how your ass and pussy squeeze around me... that's just for daddy, isn't it?"

Y/N muffles through a moan and he tuts as he pushes a second finger in.

"That's not an answer, bunny. Try again."

She shutters out a sigh and slowly blinks her eyes open, trying her to best not to be overwhelmed by him stretching her out.

"'s just for you, daddy."

"What is, angel?"

"My holes, daddy."

"Good girl," he mumbles, withdrawing his fingers. His cock twitches as he watches her ass gape ever so slightly, the loss of anything inside instantly making her feel empty. It's quickly over, though, because he's rubbing the tip of the lubed plug over her hole. "Deep breath, sweetheart, you know the drill."

Despite doing this numerous times, the stretch never quite gets old for Y/N. (Admittedly, Harry never tires of the view, either.) When her muscles swallow up the thick of the plug, revealing the pink bejeweled end, he groans, tapping it lightly.

"Does that feel better, baby?"

"Uh-huh."

"What do you say?"

"Thank you, daddy."

He smirks and gently pats the backs of her thighs, a wordless gesture to flip back over. She does, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of the plug slightly wiggling inside of her, pressing deep against her walls.

She leans up onto her elbows, watching as he palms his length through the material of his underwear. With wide eyes, she looks up at him, trying to ignore the way she can feel her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs, making a sticky mess.

"What, bunny? Why are you looking at me like you're expecting something?"

Y/N pouts and Harry has to try not to smirk down at her.

"Use your words, angel."

Her pout deepens. They both know what she wants — her pussy is all but screaming for attention — and it's embarrassing to have to admit it. She adores the way he knows her body, but he's clearly feeling just a little meaner tonight by making her verbalize all of the filthy things running through her brain.

"Want you here, daddy." She mumbles cutely, bucking her hips up slightly. He hums and uses a finger to stroke over her mound, down to her crease where her juices are steadily collecting.

"Here?" He asks mockingly, teasing her folds with light movements. It's not enough for her to receive any pleasure, instead just causing her to wiggle around as she attempts to guide him to her pulsating hole.

"Inside," she all but huffs, and he chuckles, removing his touch altogether.

"Ah, where'd my good girl go?" He smirks, "You know that's not how you ask. Plus, if you keep squirming around like this, I'll have to tie you up."

Her stomach clenches at the thought; he's always more keen on edging her until she's crying when he ties her up. She's not in the mood for that tonight — she already feels like he's been edging her by refusing to give into her — so she puffs out a breath, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"Want you in my pussy, please."

"That's all you had to say, baby," Harry murmurs. She wants to roll her eyes but she knows she'll only get spanked for it, so she nods, reveling in the sensation of his hands back on her as he separates her lips, a cooing sound forming from the back of his throat at his eyes gaze over her swollen pussy. "You have a filthy little pussy. Did you know that, bunny?"

She shakes her head.

"Don't lie to daddy," he utters, delivering a swift slap to her clit. It makes her gasp, the quick sting that's gone just as quickly as it came. "You wouldn't be begging for my cock all the time if you didn't."

Some form of an "uh huh" leaves her mouth and he chuckles. Slowly, his fingertip trails down her crease and to the place she needs him most, circling her hole once before pushing in. Her back arches and her eyes squeeze closed, immediately grateful to finally receive something.

"You'll take anything I give you, won't you?" Harry continues as he pumps his finger, "My fingers, my tongue. My cock, of course. Even my cum — made you daddy's little cumslut, didn't I?"

She moans loudly and nods her head, her hair forming messy knots at the friction.

"L-love it," she stutters, the knot in her stomach winding up tightly, "Love feeling your cum inside me, daddy."

"I know you do." He purrs, pushing another finger in. "Bet you'd let me get you all swollen with it if I wanted. Carrying my baby around like the little slut you are."

They're both too wound up to even realize what he's said. They've never breached this territory before, never even considered if a future was in the cards for them. But Y/N's already whining over it before Harry has a chance to second guess himself, her pussy squeezing his fingers rapidly; a telltale sign that her peak is but a few moments away.

"I would, I would," she chants as she pants loudly, "Fuck— fuck, I'm yours, daddy, I—"

Her words are cut off by the throaty moan that parts her lips, the rope in her core finally splitting. It's so much, so good, her muscles contracting around his fingers as he works her through it, never ceasing his praises.

"There's my girl."

"So fucking beautiful for me."

"God, I got so lucky with you. Fuck."

Her pussy is drooling over his hand now, leaking down to the plug still firmly inside of her. He bites his lip at the visual, her hole still throbbing in haphazard pulses as he frees his cock from the confides of his underwear, desperate to feel her.

With fluttering eyes, she blinks her eyelashes open as she watches him, her mind filled with fuzzy static. She doesn't even realize she's leaked spit out of her mouth until he smiles gently, using soft fingertips to wipe it away.

"Already cock dumb, sweetheart?"

She nods.

"Can you take more, or are you done? Squeeze my hand if you want to be done."

She doesn't — although her mind is bleary and struggling to string together coherent thoughts, the idea of not having Harry inside of her seems terrible. She can tell he looks concerned (his eyebrows are knit together ever so slightly as he strokes up and down her arm, waiting for her to say her safe word), but she has no plans of breaking now.

"More," her mouth finally forms around the syllables, pushing it out hoarsely, "Can do it."

"Yeah?" he asks through raised eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Again, she nods. Hesitantly, he shimmies up the length of her body, knees pressed into the comforter with his length hot and heavy in his palm.

"You know what to do if it's too much. Safe word or squeeze my hand three times."

And then finally — finally — after what seems like hours of teasing and edging (and, quite frankly, it could have been hours; Y/N's too foggy to know), he pushes his cock inside of her and everything feels right. So right, so good, so perfect.

Her jaw drops open and she leans her head against the crook of his neck, his own groans filling the otherwise quiet room. They're not typically this silent, especially when he first enters her — she's usually whimpering and he's teasing her, calling her a dog in heat or something along those lines — but it's just so... fulfilling, and satisfying, that she can't even put it into words.

When he builds up to a steady pace, mewls begin to break free from her throat, her eyes rolling back as she lays down against the pillows again. He leans back onto his heels and pushes her thighs up against her knees, looping his arms around them to keep her there. He's far deeper that way — they can both feel it — and he gets the prettiest views of her fucked out face and plugged up ass.

"Shit — you're so good, my fuckin' girl."

Too hazy to answer, she just nods, echoing his words. "Your girl."

"Yeah? Gonna take my cum, sweetheart? Want me to fuck it deep into you?"

"P-please," she babbles, reaching down between their bodies to play with her clit, "Want— want your babies, wanna be yours, please daddy."

"My sweet girl wants to be a mama?" he's clenching down his teeth so harshly he's nervous he may break something, "I'll give you anything, baby, pump my cum so deep in your womb you won't even remember your fuckin' name."

Chants of please, please, please are all that can leave her at this point, deft fingers rolling over her clit as she feels her third orgasm rapidly approaching. He knows it, too, and he groans at the sensation of her pussy clenching over his cock.

"Cum for me one more time and I'll do it. My fertile little pussy, hm? Pretty fucking girl gonna be the prettiest mama."

That's all it takes for her to explode around him, this time gushing out clear bursts of liquid. He groans and curses, the sight instantly sending him to his own edge. In the back of his mind, he knows that squirting all over his torso and legs will put her to the final brink of exhaustion, and he's internally grateful that he can let go and make good on his promise to her.

So, he does. He finishes deep inside her, pushing his hips all the way up against her bum as his balls throb and empty, fucking his cum as far as it'll go. They're a mess of liquids and sweat and they both know it's gross, but there's not a single place either one of them would rather be.

When her eyelashes flitter open and she looks up at him, an exhausted smile forming on her lips, he swears he's never seen anything more beautiful.

. . .

"What are your plans for the holidays?"

Harry raises his eyebrows as he spoons some more miso soup into his mouth. It's a gloomy Saturday evening, with the temperatures finally dropping down to appropriate autumnal climates. Y/N came over this morning to pick up a book he recommended for her, but — as if either one hadn't expected it — ended up staying all day, basking in the cozy glory of Harry's apartment. They snuggled up on the couch, watching Jeopardy reruns, taking turns napping and retrieving snacks and drinks for the other.

"Well," he clears his throat, "I'm not American so I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving. And Christmas is a bit far away, so I'm not sure. Why?"

She shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. "My sister was asking if I'm coming home for Thanksgiving."

"Ah. Are you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Why? Isn't it coming up?"

She nods her head, occupying her fingers with a loose thread at the end of Harry's tee shirt that she had thrown over her body.

"Yeah. I just... I don't know if it's stupid, but I was curious about what you were doing. Before I made any decisions."

Harry's heart thumps in his chest, his entire body warming at her taking his plans into consideration.

"That's sweet of you, baby. Hadn't really thought about it, though."

Again, she nods, and he thinks that may be the end of the conversation. He doesn't want to impose, especially since he thinks he's been doing particularly well with the whole not-confessing-his-love thing, so he unmutes the TV and directs his attention back to the screen.

"Wait!" she blurts out, and he mutes it again through furrowed brows, "What if you... like, came with me?"

"For Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah," she bites her lip, nerves apparent on her face, "It's no pressure, my sister's hosting just 'cos she just bought a house with her girlfriend and they have two dogs that are really cute, and my dad might be there but he's not one of those weird hover-y dads that care about who I bring around, not that he wouldn't care but it would be weird to have to explain how we met, and my mom is probably spending it with my step-dad so it'll be pretty low-key, and—"

"Y/N." Harry cuts her off with a smirk before setting his bowl of soup down on the table. "Breathe. You're gonna pass out, I've never heard you talk so fast."

She takes a deep breath and he smiles, murmuring out a good as he turns to face her.

"I would love to come and celebrate Thanksgiving with you. That sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me."

"Really?"

"Of course," he replies easily. "I love any time we spend together."

Her cheeks warm and she nods, as if she's convincing herself he's being truthful.

"Um... so, like, how should I introduce you?" she asks, and there are so many butterflies swarming Harry's stomach that he doesn't know if he can get any words out.

"Well... how would you like to introduce me?"

She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her lips into her mouth. "I mean, I don't know... maybe, like..."

And then she mumbles something, but it's so low that he can't hear a thing.

"I didn't hear that."

She repeats it, and Harry lets out a laugh when he still doesn't understand her.

"Baby, speak up. I can't hear you."

"WhatifIsaidyouweremyboyfriend."

"What?"

"WhatifIsaidyouweremyBOYFRIEND."

"Y/N, seriously, I don't know—"

"Boyfriend!" she exclaims, "What if I said you were my boyfriend?"

He can't fight the grin that breaks out onto his face, especially given her wide, exasperated eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of teasing her.

"Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

She groans and goes to rise from the couch, only to be quickly brought back down by Harry. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him as his chest vibrates with laughter.

"Ask me properly."

She huffs, twisting in his lap. Swallowing nervously, she looks down, and he intertwines their fingers together.

"Harry... would you want to be my boyfriend?" she peers up at him through her eyelashes and he smiles that big, dimpled smile that she loves, and realizes she has nothing to worry about.

"I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend."

He decides to save the I-love-you confession for another day, because he wants nothing more than to do things properly with her.

But when a matching toothy grin appears on her face, he mentally amends the one thing he got wrong about her: This is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

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dearcarmine · 30 days

Text

sleep remedy

: ̗̀➛ pairing; mike schmidt + afab reader

: ̗̀➛ tags; smut { handjob, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie }

: ̗̀➛ summary; mike has had long shifts all week and he needs help sleeping. you two have been closer lately and he finds his solution through you.

: ̗̀➛ a/n; 1.5k this was a collab with me and my best friend !! this is just something i’ve been craving for a hot minute..

archive of our own version

six-thirty am. mike slid off his vest and tossed it into the backseat before getting into his car. it was more of a night dreaming than doing his actual job. the wind hit his hair unevenly as multiple cars passed, likely on their way to an early job as he finished his. his eyes laid tired as he drove home, wanting nothing more than to lay in his bed, asleep.

once he arrived home, he walked straight into his bedroom, checking briefly to see if abby was asleep herself. he felt too tired to care about anything else other than the sleep he so desperately craved.

before mike could even touch the end of his bed, the doorbell rang, he groaned as he walked out his bedroom and towards the ring. once he opened the door, his eyes met yours. “what are you doing here?” mike asked tiredly.

“i brought you a sandwich, i figured you might be hungry from your shift,” you replied. you sat the bag you held around your wrist down on the small dining table. you’d been a little tired from waking up early to help mike out. there were times he’d forget to eat dinner and make due with abby’s stashed candy.

”thank you,” he spoke as he sat down and unwrapped the sandwich; it was a cold combo of turkey and pepper jack. as he took a bite, you rummaged the fridge for some drinks. “she’s asleep?” you asked him, eyeing a couple of beers. “yeah, the babysitter left a bit early.” your eyes darted towards him with a small smile, “you know i’d offer and take time to watch her, mike. all you have to do—“

”i don’t wanna bother, but thanks. you don’t have work, do you?”

you sat with him and twisted the bottle caps, sliding the glass over. “no, why?”

he chewed and swallowed for a moment, his eyes closing in on a single spot on the table. “uneasy. can you sleep here tonight?” another smile formed on your lips as he spoke. you gave a nod, knowing that if you hadn’t, you would’ve slept over anyways.

mike leaned back in the chair, sparing you a piece of the sandwich. he took a swig of beer and cleared his throat, “you can take the bedroom.” your brows furrowed confusingly, “no, it’s fine.” you didn’t mind the couch, but his courtesy evoked flattery from you. deprived from proper hours, he grabbed his beer, sat himself on the couch, and huffed at the impact.

your first thought was to sit with him and stay there until he slept, which eventually he would. you sat yourself next to him and watched as he turned on the sports program he downloaded. he was too tired during the day that he needed to save things however he could and experience them later. even the way his breath fell from his lips felt tired, but you didn't want to comment on it.

“shit..abby gets up in a few hours and i need to—”

“just watch tv. i'll deal with abby and the school, you just stay here and relax,” you spoke over him. your fingers started on his head, trying to relax him calmly. he shut his eyes and kept his head down.

mike’s head soon reached your shoulder and he let out a sigh. he turned his face and looked up at you, “thank you.”

you nodded and smiled, continuing to run your hands in his hair, combing it back gently. halftime on the screen ended and your mind retraced to abby, yet the sensation of mike’s hair in between your fingers fuels your mind instead. his eyes fell back on the screen, trying to doze off to the sound of players grunting and whistles blowing. you couldn’t understand it, but he was the type to fall asleep to sounds most annoying to man. your grasp tightens on his brown strands, curling them and tugging lightly. from his lips fell a small whimper, just loud enough to hear and make the atmosphere a bit awkward.

it wasn’t your intention, but what you did evoked a small smile on your face. he adjusted his position and felt your nails soothe the area you tugged at. “tired?” you asked him.

“i’m so fucking exhausted,” he muttered lowly.

your available hand reached over to his other side and grabbed the remote, turning the volume up a bit. “your pills, are they helping?” you questioned. they were over-the-counter, hardly reliable. he tried anything he could to sleep; to dream. he shook his head and started dragging it slowly into your lap. you moved your hand down to his face, thumbing small circles onto his cheek. he needed help sleeping.

mike turned his head and faced your stomach, giving small groans. you felt the vibrations of his tiredness as his lips connected to your thighs. “mike..” you spoke softly; you were unsure of where he was going, but sure what you wanted. he placed his hand down on the couch and lifted himself up to face you directly, “the pills don't work, this will work.” your hand came up to his face and his eyes roamed you needily.

“baby..”

“mike..” his breathing got heavier just from his name leaving your mouth. another look in his eyes and you gave in. your lips connected with his and your hands went to his shoulder and hair. small moans escaped his mouth and into yours. your knee moved to the other side of his waist as you straddled his lap. his jeans grew tighter as he got hard and you could feel it. your hips grinding down onto his pants make him stutter, “please..c’mon, please.” your hands trailed up his chest and one up his neck and held his cheek. his hands left your waist and lowered to his belt. he unlooped it and tossed it completely away from the couch.

“i need you, y/n, please.” his pleads fueled you to the extent of taking off your shirt and your shorts. you sat on him, half naked, and waiting for his jeans to be pulled down. he struggled with his boxers, his desperate hands clawing at the top band. once he got them down, you took a moment to admire and almost stare at his bulge. his dick hit his stomach adorned with his happy trail you loved oh so much. “how bad do you need it?” you teased him, running your thumb along his tip. his mouth breathed out no words as he took in the pleasure of your touch. when you asked again, he looked up at your face and nodded, “please..really bad.”

your hand took in his cock, slowly guiding along as your head bent down to see what you were doing, as much a you loved seeing his face scrunch with pleasure, the sight of his hips bucking for more as better. he hisses when you tighten your hold, causing your eyes to rise, “you can’t handle it, baby? what’ll happen when you fill me up?” you mocked him lightly and kissed his cheek.

“so close..” he bit down on his pink lips and his lashes flickered up at you, practically begging for release. your mouth hung open, tucking your tongue back and dropping spit onto his cock. your fingers slicked around him and eluded pretty low moans from his mouth. once your movements stopped, those moans turned to whines for your touch. your hips lifted off and above his lap, hovering over him. “here,” you spoke, moving your hand on top of his and guiding it to the waistband of your panties. your fingers maneuvered his to slide them to the side, revealing your pussy and making him more than eager.

positioning yourself onto him, mike groaned and bucked his hips, begging silently for you to move. the loss of friction distanced his orgasm; “c’mon, just–” his hands gripped onto your waist, clawing at the skin and forcing your pussy down around his cock. hips moving forward and back, rising up a bit, you made him bite his lip to suppress his moans. your hands rest on his chest as your lips snake to his ear, smoothing over the flesh with your teeth and biting down gently. another moan escaped his mouth, but this time more vulgar and high pitched. his whimpered echoed through the house, “shh,” your palm closed in on his mouth.

your hand slowly moved down his face, “tell me what you need, baby,” you cooed. “inside, please—don’t move from right here, please.”

your hands settled back on his shoulders, riding him until your legs gave out and he came inside you.

his mess slid with your hips as you moved along him, cumming on his lap and slapping your thighs down for more of him. “mhm..” he groaned, holding the small of your back. your movements stopped as he gently slapped your ass.

his lap raised and lifted your body off of him. “you gonna sleep now?” you ask, moving your hand along his cock and teasing the sensitive tip. his body shuddered under your touch and his breath got heavier until you stopped.

the two of you got clothed and laid back on the couch, panting heavily and stimulated, apparent from the crotches of your clothing being slightly damp and hot.

you laid with mike for the night, finally relieved he’d get the sleep he needed.

#fanfic #ao3 #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #smut #fnaf smut #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #jhutch nation #jhutch #writers of tumblr #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3fic #feral-behavior

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roosterforme · 6 months

Text

Adult Education Part 8 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Plans for the fraternity alumni fundraiser that Jessica is in charge of are starting to take shape. And things with Jake are starting to heat up. But even after she tries her best to take care of her students in her own way, she feels like she will never be successful at this college.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smutty thigh riding, 18+

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica settled down in the spare seat in her friend's office with her slightly stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a notebook. "Wait, say that again. Beer pong with micro brewed beer? Come on, Advanced Calculus. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of the frat boy vibe?" she asked with her pencil poised over the paper.

The other woman laughed as she ate the turkey and avocado roll ups that her husband packed for her gorgeous looking lunch. Jessica would have had some of Jake's chili to bring except that she finished all of it on Sunday and Monday while she texted him about how good it was.

"It would be an elevated frat boy vibe. I spent the weekend asking my husband what he would want out of an alumni event with his fraternity, and he came up with some pretty compelling ideas."

Jessica bit into her sandwich with a frown and chewed. "But depending on the turnout, a few kegs of fancy beer could be very expensive."

She shook her head and offered Jessica some mixed berries and a honey dipping sauce which she immediately accepted. "No, because Bradley knows a guy who owns a brewery in Solana Beach. He said he'd ask for a favor if you wanted him to."

Jessica perked up immediately. She had a friend. A friend who had a nice husband who was offering to help her out. As much as she wanted to dream big and believe she could get tenure if this thing was successful, she was afraid to hope too hard.

But she couldn't help herself. "Solana Beach isn't that far away. You think this guy would really cut me some sort of deal? My budget from the school is pretty tiny."

She shrugged. "He was in Bradley's fraternity at UVA. He's actually a really nice guy, so I wouldn't be too surprised."

Jessica only had to think about it for another second. "Okay yes. I am very interested in this idea." Then she ate a few more berries and jotted down some other ideas they came up with. hors d'oeuvres from the culinary school

frat boys in tuxedos

sparkling wine

silent auction

As she was finishing the last item, the other woman asked, "How was your weekend with Jake?"

When Jessica met her eyes, she could tell she was blushing. But she laughed softly and said, "I think he's my boyfriend?"

"Really?" she asked, nearly dropping her turkey roll up on her lap. "I'm sorry, but are you serious? You and Jake are exclusive?"

"Yes," Jessica whispered. Right? Hadn't he made it clear he wasn't seeing anyone else and didn't want to? Oh shit. It had been so long since she'd done this, maybe she wasn't even doing it correctly. "Is that okay?"

"Oh my god! He just... I don't think... I don't ever remember mention of him having a girlfriend. Usually he just-" She cut herself off with a wince.

"Picks girls up for the night?" Jessica supplied. She sensed that about him and the way he'd told her some things about himself. But he also bought a new truck so he could make sure he was on time to see her. There was a lot to unpack here.

"Well. Yeah. But I'm not saying I'm surprised that he's into you! You're great! I'm just surprised in general."

"Same." She just hoped she wasn't about to make a fool of herself when Jake stopped by later during her office hours. When she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, she could feel the pull of the green lace against her skin underneath her cute pleated skirt, and her sheer stockings felt like silk.

"Aside from the fact that he once called me Dr. Tits when he was belligerently drunk at my house, Jake is, and I say this a bit begrudgingly, actually really sweet. And kind. He dropped off two tickets for a Grateful Dead cover band last night since Bradley drove him around a few times after his truck broke down."

"I'm sorry.... did you say he called you Dr. Tits? Please, I'm going to need you to elaborate on that."

-----------------------------

Jake spent Monday night making the most perfect lasagna of his life and waiting until it cooled down to pack some individual containers for Jessica. Then when he left for work on Tuesday, he left them all lined up in his refrigerator so he could grab them on his way to her office hours.

There was a guest speaker today, and Jake grabbed the empty seat next to Bradley who was trying to discreetly text his wife under the table before the lecture started.

"What's Dr. Tits up to?" he drawled, earning an eye roll.

"Text her yourself if you want to know," came the raspy response. "I'm going right to campus after work today to keep her company while she's on a phone conference," he added with a smirk. "Might stop by and talk to your girlfriend about her fundraiser while I'm there."

"That fraternity thing she has to do?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, finally putting his phone away. "Sugar asked me to be nice to her, so I'm going to try to save her some money on beer from Beta Brewing."

"Isn't that the place that ages the beer in bourbon barrels and sells it for an outrageous price?"

"Yeah," Bradley said with a laugh. "A guy who was in my fraternity owns it. I haven't seen him in a bit, but I was kind enough to text him on behalf of Jessica. Now will you please stop calling my wife Dr. Tits?"

"No," Jake replied smoothly as Maverick called everyone to attention.

Bradley just grunted in response.

When they were released from the lecture, Jessica's office hours had already begun. Jake hadn't texted her much since he knew Tuesdays were busy for her. He just needed to get there before 7:00, because somehow if he arrived during her office hours, it made him feel like her student. And that made everything feel a little dirty. And he really fucking liked that. Plus she told him she was going to wear something sexy, and he'd been dying to find out what that meant.

He swung by his place and picked up the containers of lasagna and packed them in a cooler, and then he was off in his new truck. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd visited this part of the city before he met Jessica, but now he was constantly searching the side streets along campus for a parking spot. Tonight he found one on the same block as a familiar, blue Bronco.

Of course he got some looks from the college girls as he strolled toward the math and science building in his khaki uniform, but he was met with a glare from a man a little older than him with salt and pepper hair when he walked inside.

"Evening," Jake drawled as the other man silently examined his uniform. He could feel eyes on him as he walked toward the elevators. It wasn't like he was forbidden to be here, so he just ignored him. This ride up to her floor and the walk down the hallway had become familiar to Jake. But when he raised his hand to knock, he heard the doorknob turn from the inside along with Jessica's muffled voice. So he leaned back against the opposite wall as the door cracked open.

"Luca, there's no way I'm going to try out your skateboard."

"Come on, Dr. Reed. Just for a minute? It'll be really fun. But you probably shouldn't wear high heels."

She sighed and pulled her door open further, but she didn't notice Jake yet. "Fine. I'll try your skateboard on Thursday only after you show up on time and give me a full hour of your best effort."

"Sweet!" Luca said, giving her a high five. But now she was distracted by Jake as he smiled at her.

"Not in the hallway!" Jessica shouted after Luca who set his board down and promptly picked it back up again.

"My bad, Dr. Reed!"

Jessica was already wrapped up in Jake's arm, her lips ghosting over his. "Hey, Reedy," he whispered, and then he was being jerked away from the wall as she led him inside and closed the door, leaning back against it.

"Hi," she whispered back. Jake let his eyes drift down over her petite form and back up again, every inch of clothing and everything that was bare to him was making him salivate. She had on a rather short pleated skirt with sheer stockings and black heels. Plus he could see the telltale green strap peeking out from the white camisole as her cardigan slipped down her bare shoulder.

He swallowed hard. "You look nice, Baby. You having a good day?"

"Yes!" she gushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him harder this time. "My faculty meeting was blessedly canceled this morning, and I ate lunch with Advanced Calculus."

Jake set the cooler down on her desk in the tiny office so he could have better access to her body. "That's great. You call her Advanced Calculus? That's actually so cute," he said as his hands came to rest on her hips.

Jessica laughed, and he felt warm all over. "Yes, and she calls me Advanced Physics. And she's helping me plan that fraternity fundraiser along with her husband. Bradley actually stopped by a little while ago, before Luca was here. He's just the best. Advanced Calculus is so lucky."

"He's the best?" Jake asked, one eyebrow raised as he leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder making her shiver. "She's so lucky?"

When he ran his nose along that pretty green bra strap, she gasped. "Not as lucky as me."

Jake chuckled and murmured, "That's my smart girl." He brushed her hair aside and kissed his way from her shoulder up her neck to her ear while she clung to him.

She cleared her throat and asked, "How was your day?" as she tried to pull away from him. But Jake kept her right where she was.

"Better now," he promised. "Had to sit through a talk about the updates coming to my jet this summer. A new mechanical override and an updated comms system among other things."

"Ohhh," she sighed. "Did they give you a new spec sheet?" Her eyes were curious behind her glasses, and Jake was grinning.

"Sure did. You wanna see it?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's classified, Baby."

She pouted and said, "Come on, Jake. I won't tell anyone. Can't you sneak one home with you or something?"

He ran his big hands up and down her back. "You want to work out some of the calculations, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replied softly, and Jake was getting a little hot just thinking about her sitting in his kitchen with a pencil and a calculator. He trailed his hand down to her ass, and she was kissing him again as she touched his pins.

"If you really want to see them," he said between kisses, "I'll sneak them out." She giggled as she kissed his neck, and then his nose was buried in her hair. "God, you look so sexy, and you smell so sweet."

Her glasses bumped his cheek when she kissed his ear and raked her fingers through his hair. Every inch of the front of her body was pressed to his, and Jake just knew there was no coming back from this right now. Jessica had dressed like this with him in mind, and while her outfit was totally work appropriate, it was also a thing of fantasies. Skirts and heels and green lingerie and stockings.

"I can't seem to stop thinking about you," she said in the sweetest voice before she sucked on his lip. He wondered if her stockings were the kind that ended at her thighs or the ones that went all the way up to her waist. He needed to know. She didn't make him wait for an answer. Jessica guided him to the chair behind her desk, and he sat down a little hard. She was standing right in front of him with her gaze fixed on his pants, and when Jake glanced down, he could see the outline of his cock as he stood at attention for her.

"I'm sorry," he grunted, "but you turn me on so much."

"Don't apologize," she breathed, and he was treated to the sight of her sliding that cardigan down her arms. When she turned slightly and dropped it onto her desk, her skirt rode up her leg. Jake could see the lace trimmed top of her stocking hugging her thigh, and he groaned so loudly, her gaze snapped back to his.

"Jessica." His voice was a needy whine, and for some reason this was so much worse than when he almost fucked her on his couch. Because she was his girl now, and he wanted every inch of her well acquainted with every inch of him. "Come here." When he patted his right thigh, she obeyed him immediately, coming to stand with his knee between her legs.

Then she hesitated, and Jake didn't want to push anything. When he was just about to tell her that nothing sexual needed to happen here, he watched her reach up underneath her skirt and bend a little at the waist. His gaze shifted so rapidly from her pretty eyes to the lacy tops of her sheer stockings, he thought he might pass out. And then she started to slide that green thong down her hips to her thighs, and Jake caught the briefest glimpse of her pussy before her underwear was down her legs and her skirt fell into place once more.

"Fuck. Jessica." He was a panting mess as she stepped out of her thong and handed it to him. It was wet, and when he pressed it to his nose, it smelled incredible. And she was once again positioning herself with her legs straddling his right one before she came to rest with her pussy on his khaki covered thigh.

"Is this okay?" she whispered as her right knee nudged his cock, and his head tipped back slightly. She bit her lip and ran one gentle finger along his name tag, spelling out SERESIN while she looked him in the eye.

"Yeah," he groaned. "God. It's more than okay." She kissed him with her palm planted on his chest, and Jake was living for the way her hips rocked forward.

Her glasses and hair were tickling his face as she brought her other hand up to his neck, and then Jessica rocked her hips back and forward once again along his thigh. There was a smile on her lips as she kissed him and whispered, "You can set that down, you know."

Jake was still gripping her thong in his hand, and he pressed it to his mouth and lips one more time before stuffing it in his breast pocket. The fact that she was rubbing her bare ass and pussy on his uniform had him painfully hard, but he didn't want her to stop. This was a thousand times better than any lap dance he'd ever had before.

"You excited to see me today, Baby?" he asked, squeezing both of her knees with his hands and then guiding them up to her skirt. "This is a very warm welcome."

Her cheeks were flushed as Jake pushed her skirt up a few inches to play with the lace stockings. When he ran his thumbs along the soft, bare skin of her inner thighs, she whined his name. "Jake!"

"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her with both hands as she rode his thigh, now gripping both of his shoulders. She was kind of jerking her hips along as her glasses slid down her nose. Jake leaned in to kiss her neck and chest as he whispered, "You gonna get off like this?" She squeaked as his fingers toyed with her stockings before he brushed her wet slit with his thumb.

"I never did before," she said, eyes a little wild now. Every time she rolled her hips back so she was sitting on her ass, she grunted a soft little sound that almost sent him through the roof.

"Baby, you can't tell me things like that and make those perfect little sounds okay?" he whispered. "Because now I need to get you off." He guided one hand around to palm her bare ass and tipped her chin up with the other. "Okay?" he asked, running his thumb along her lips. She nodded and kissed his thumbprint before he reached down and lifted up her skirt. "Holy hell," he moaned. Her pussy looked exquisite, and there was a wet spot the size of her palm on his service khakis from her slick.

While he was absolutely aching to get his cock inside her, he knew there would be time for that later. This weekend, perhaps. But right now, he thought she was close to coming on his fucking uniform. In her goddamn office. On the college campus. And he needed to make it a reality, because he could feel her wetness on his leg as she ground down against him.

So he kept his left hand on her ass, guiding her movements just a little slower as he took one more look at her pink pussy spread open for him, and he stroked her clit with his right thumb. And then Jessica was shaking almost instantly as she kissed his lips and muttered something incoherent.

"Come on baby. You're so close," he whispered between kisses. "This is so hot." Every time her knee bumped his cock, he thought he might cum in his pants, but he kept her going.

"Oh. My. God!" she whined suddenly before sucking in a deep breath and arching her back. Jake rubbed his face across her tits, nipples peaked through the fabric of her bra and camisole. And then she was coming and keening, and he eased up the pressure of his thumb and enjoyed every sound she made for him.

Jessica collapsed against his chest, lips pressed to his ear and cheek as she combed her fingers through his hair and rode out the little aftershocks. He ran his hand along her ass, stroking her until she stopped rocking gently against him. As she kissed her way to his lips, her fingers found his insignia pins just like always. Their kisses were soft and leisurely like she'd really worn herself out, and when she shifted, he grunted as her knee nudged his cock again.

She looked at him with wide eyes as she brought her hand down to his pants. "I'm so sorry," she gasped with a soft laugh. "I'm in such a daze, I wasn't even thinking. Let me take care of you."

Jake was shaking his head and immediately reaching for her hand. "Absolutely not." He would cum in an instant if she touched his bare dick with any part of her pretty body, and that was not something he was interested in at the moment.

"Why not?" she asked, looking thoroughly upset now as she pulled away from him to stand. Jake had to bite his knuckle at the sight of the mess she left on his khakis, and his cock jumped painfully in his pants.

"Baby, look what you did," he crooned, gesturing at his thigh. "It's gorgeous." But when he met her eyes, she was blushing and reaching for her cardigan. "Jessica, I can't have you taking care of this for me right now. I'm too worked up, and I'd rather have blue balls than cum as soon as you look at me, okay?"

She laughed as she pulled her sweater on, and she let Jake kiss her. "Okay," she replied softly as she looked down at his wet pants. "I can't believe I did that."

"Listen," he whispered, boxing her in between his body and her desk. "I think you should come spend the weekend at my place. Pack an overnight back and some more journals... the real sexy ones on the top shelf over there." He jerked his chin toward her bookshelf. "And I'll steal you a top secret spec sheet that could cost me some of my pins that you like touching so much."

"I could do that," she replied with a smile. "I need to go up to Beta Brewing with Bradley on Saturday morning, but after that, I'm free."

Jake kissed her as he pulled her green thong out of his pocket. "Sounds perfect. And I'm going to need you to wear this again on Saturday, okay? I didn't even get to see the bra yet."

She balled it up in her hand like she was suddenly embarrassed by it. "Alright." But he tipped her chin up again so she was looking at him.

"I can't get enough of you."

Then the sweet kisses returned before she took him by the hand and selected a small stack of journals for him to take him. "Here's a spicy one from the top shelf," she told him with a smile that made him feel weak. Then he said he would walk her and the cooler of food to her car. And she tried to hide her face against his pins when that same guy was walking through the lobby again, because Jake still had a wet spot on his pants from her pussy.

"You think I care?" he whispered to her before he nodded at the guy with salt and pepper hair. "I got my girl with me, and she got off on me."

"Jake," she gasped with a laugh, pulling him outside quickly. "He's the head of the chemistry department. And he already hates me."

"Who in their right mind could hate you?" His mind drifted for a moment to all the supposed rumors about her that were floating around. "Wait, is he the guy who got permanently banned from Chippy's?" He dug his feet in and there was no way she could pull him anywhere. "Why doesn't he like you?"

Jake was turning back to look into the building, ready to give this asshole a piece of his mind, but Jessica was still pulling on him. "Don't worry about it. Walk me to my car so we can make out." But he was going to worry about it. And yeah, he made out with her next to her car until he was starting to get hard again, which was honestly very painful now. And he was still thinking about it when he watched her pull away. He headed home to jerk off and start to consider what he could cook this weekend, but it still really irritated him that someone found something to dislike about the first woman he ever thought he could be serious with. Because in his mind, she was perfect.

-----------------------------

"Luca, focus on the math, or I'm not going to embarrass myself on your skateboard."

"Sorry, Dr. Reed."

Jessica had to keep drawing her failing student's attention back to the problem sheet in front of him, but that threat really seemed to do the trick. For some reason, this kid really wanted to see her eat asphalt. And now he was solving all of the problems correctly. "Yes! Keep going." She watched him write out the long equation for the last question, and she murmured, "One just like that will be on the exam next week."

"Sweet," he replied with a smile. "I'll study this weekend. Weather is supposed to be shitty for surfing."

She rolled her eyes but collected his paper when he was finished. "This is all correct," she said as she stood up on the other side of the desk in her sneakers and pantsuit. "You just always rush instead of taking your time. I know you can pass my classes. You need them to graduate on time."

"I know," he whined and sat back in the other chair. "I'll keep coming to your office hours."

"Just keep trying and keep studying. I know it's not as hard as you think it is."

Then he stood and picked up his skateboard, and Jessica groaned. "Okay, but only for a minute."

"You say that now, but I think you're going to love it," Luca said as she followed him out of her office and down the hallway. "You're at least fifty years younger than everyone else who works here. You might think skateboarding is fun."

Jessica had to stifle a snort as they walked past Dr. Leeland's open door where he was napping in his chair. "That's not polite, Luca," she managed to say.

"Yeah, but it's still true."

On the ride down the elevator, she listened to him explain how to keep yourself balanced while riding. "Don't make any sudden movements. And don't lean backwards. Actually, don't lean forward either."

Jessica sighed. At least she could spend about a half second on this skateboard and then excuse herself back up to her office to pack up. Then she could call Jake on her way home and hear his sexy voice and talk about the weekend.

Once they were outside on the deserted sidewalk which was lit up by the dying sunset and campus security lights, Luca set the skateboard down with a huge grin on his face. "You're the coolest, Professor Reed. Now step up with your right foot."

She tried it and shook her head before planting both feet back on the ground. "Nope. It's already rolling away!"

"Here. I'll stand on the front so it won't move so much while you get on it."

With a deep sigh, she tried it again, but she started wobbling from side to side this time. "Luca!" she gasped, reaching for his outstretched hand. "This is not fun!"

He was laughing as he said, "It takes practice. Just hold my hand for a second and push off with your left foot." When he removed his foot from the board, she pushed off and went gliding forward as she screeched and held onto his hand with a death grip. "Yeah! That's it!"

She jumped off, looked at him, and said, "Can I do it again?"

Five minutes later, she was laughing as she tried pushing off with her right foot. "I can recommend a great skate shop for you!" Luca said as she slowly skated away from him and down the sidewalk. Damn, this was kind of addicting. She jumped down and skated back toward him as she cackled.

"You better move. I'm coming in hot!" she said, rolling so slowly it was laughable. Then she looked up into the icy blue eyes of Brian Conley who was scowling at her. She jumped awkwardly off of the skateboard, and it continued to roll to Luca who picked it up.

"What the hell are you doing, Dr. Reed?" Brian practically yelled even though she was right in front of him. She hated that she immediately felt tears stinging behind her eyes. "Can't you be professional for even just ten minutes?"

"I was just-" she started, but then Luca cut in when she really wished he wouldn't.

"It was my idea, Dr. Conley. Dr. Reed just finished tutoring me, and I thought it would be fun."

Brian just shook his head and sighed. "That's enough fun for one day I think."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Reed," Luca muttered as he hoisted his backpack on and started skating away. And then Jessica really wished she could vanish, because Jake was heading up the sidewalk at a blistering pace, a scowl on his handsome features while Brian went off.

"It's not your job to be messing around with your students. It is your job to be teaching them. I know for a fact that you have several students failing your classes, and I don't think skateboarding with them is quite the correct answer here, do you? If you think you're even close to being qualified for tenure, you are out of your mind!"

All she could picture was Leeland asleep during his office hours. All she wanted to do was relate to Luca a little bit to keep him interested in things. She was just upholding her end of the bargain since he did so great with the practice problems.

"You're such an asshole," she whispered as her vision blurred with unshed tears.

When Brian took a step closer so that he was almost touching her, Jessica heard Jake's voice call out in a loud bark. "Hey! Why is she crying?"

"I'm okay," she said softly which just made her want to cry even more. She pushed Brian away from herself and walked the rest of the way toward Jake who had his hands in fists and fire in his eyes. "I'm okay." She had to plant both palms on his chest to get him to look at her instead of Brian.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, gentler this time as Brian stormed back inside the building. "Should I be going after him?"

"No," she said as she hiccuped, and Jake pulled her against his chest so her glasses got smashed at a weird angle. But she immediately felt better. "What are you doing here?"

He rubbed her back and said, "I missed you and thought maybe you'd want to go to Chippy's after your office hours. I know you were supposed to help that kid Luca, but I figured you might feel like getting a Sam Adams with me. Didn't know I'd potentially have to kick that guy's ass."

Jessica felt like she was going to say something she had no business telling him yet. So she tamped down the words and instead said, "You don't need to kick Brian Conley's ass. He's not even worth it. And I would absolutely love to go to Chippy's with you."

She kissed Jake long and hard on the lips before leading him inside and back up to her office to pack up her things and lock the door. Then they walked across the street, hand in hand. Jake held the door for her, and he finally looked a little calmer now as he walked into Chippy's right behind her.

"I'm just waiting for him to glare at me," Jake said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "I really need to take you to the Hard Deck one night, because honestly, Penny could give him a run for his money."

"I'd love to see that," she said with her first smile since she was on the skateboard. She laced her fingers with Jake's and led him to an empty table.

"Reedy," Chippy called out, and sure enough, there was a special glare reserved for Jake. Jessica was beaming by the time he pulled out a stool for her and kissed her.

"I'll be right back. Hopefully," Jake said with a look of extreme fear as he headed to the bar. This was her peaceful space away from Brian. And she felt safe with Jake and Chippy. And Jake was completely right; a beer and some peanuts were exactly what she needed right now.

-----------------------------

Can't wait to check in with Beer Boy's former frat brother. And can't wait for Reedy to spend some more time at Jake's place. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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445 notes · View notes

darknight3904 · 1 month

Text

so american

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴍᴀʟᴀʏꜱɪᴀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ. ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx ɢᴇɢᴇ ᴡʜʏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴛ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴀʏꜱɪᴀ??

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ ʙʏ ᴏʟɪᴠɪᴀ ʀᴏᴅʀɪɢᴏ.

ꜱᴏʀʀʏ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ….

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2ᴋ

ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Kuantan, Malaysia

Vacation Day 5:

"Your English is really great." You compliment

"Thank you, I spent a lot of time in my early twenties practicing." The man next to you says

The hot sun that dances above is blocked by a pretty blue umbrella that your new companion got to stand up correctly. A half-melted drink rests in the sand next to your bag.

You met Nanami on the first day of your vacation while you were struggling to communicate with the woman who was working at the front desk of your hotel. He had smoothly cut in and easily translated your choppy Malay to something more fluent and even got you a room upgrade in the process. Originally, you had just planned to buy him dinner as a thank you but here you were, day five of vacation and you were still hanging out with him.

"You look good like that." He compliments

"Like what?" You laugh thinking of how sunburned you were

"With my shirt on." He explains, reaching out to tug gently at the sleeve of his soft linen beach shirt. He had let you borrow it after seeing how red your shoulders had become.

"Oh, right, duh." You smile, avoiding his gaze.

Was he even aware of how flirtatious he had been the past few days? You swore his pretty face and warm compliments would turn you into a puddle of love-sick embarrassment before you left this country. He reminded you of one of those men you only hear about in books or in cheesy one lined poems about love.

"It's getting late. Would you like to go to get dinner? I know a great market nearby, it has delicious street vendors." He asks

"Sure!" You smile jumping up off your towel to pack up your things while Nanami pulls the umbrella out of the sand.

You struggle to slip out of his shirt, your shoulders are burning from the sunburn.

"Keep it. I've got another in the car." He says pulling it back up over you, " You look pretty in it anyway."

You're mesmerized by the blonde as he drives down the road. Warm air from the open windows pushes your hair from your eyes as you eye the way his arms flex slightly when he takes a turn.

"You're quiet today. Normally you're full of jokes." He says

Crap. You can't admit that you've been ogling him all day!

"I...my back has been hurting."

What the hell was that?!

"Ah. You should've told me earlier, we could've rented those chairs." He says, referring to the overpriced chairs that were for rent on the beach.

"It's alright. Those are just tourist traps anyway." You dismiss

"We're both tourists." He reminds you

"I know..." You roll your eyes

"Put your feet up, I heard that can help with pain."

Your face heats up when he stops the car at an intersection and gently pulls your feet up so they rest on the dashboard. So touchy, you swear he's doing all this on purpose!

"Better?" He asks

"Yup!" You smile

Silence settles around you as you try not to treat the man next to you like eye candy. In defense, it's not your fault. Who knew driving could be so attractive? It didn't help that he hadn't put that extra shirt on yet...

"Tell me a joke." He prompts

Who did he think you were, a stand-up comedian?

"Umm...Why did Darth Vader go to the dermatologist?" You ask

"Why?" Nanami responds, a hint of amusement in his voice

"He had Start Warts." You say

You hear him let out a snicker of laughter and you feel your face heat up out of embarrassment.

"It was the best I could do cold turkey okay!" You groan

Nanami had been right about the market and the street vendors. You had never seen so much delicious-looking food at once. How did he know so much about this place? According to him, he had only been in Kuantan two days before he met you.

"So," You smile as you pop a delicious bite of food into your mouth "Do you always look like this or is this a special version of Nanami?"

You're referring to his relaxed appearance. Long blonde hair slightly hides his eyes and the top view buttons of his shirt are undone. His skin is tanned from all the time spent on the beach at your side and a pair of sunglasses sit in the pocket that's sewn onto his shirt.

"I actually wear suits most of the time when I'm back home." He says

Seriously? He hides this muscular build under suits every day? The poor women of Japan, they don't know what they're missing!

"No way!" You laugh

"I'm serious." He says, and he takes his phone out and pulls up a few pictures of him and a kid with pink hair at his side.

"Wow. You uh, look..." You don't want to tell him he looks like he has a stick up his ass...

"Stoic, I know." He says "I like to think Itadori brightens this picture up though."

You look at the pink-haired boy, Itadori, who is holding up double peace signs and looks like a ray of sun next to the stoic Nanami.

"He definitely makes up for your lack of smile." You tease, poking at his cheek as he brushes your hand off his face

"Well, I had good reason to not smile. The person taking this picture is the most- speak of the devil."

A chime interrupts his sentence and you look down at the phone to see a push notification.

Satoru Gojo

Shoko is going through old pics, check this one out, you were so cute, Nanamin!

Another ding sounds and your eyes widen to see a picture appear at the top of the screen.

Nanami tries to snatch his phone off the table but you get there first and open the message from this Satoru Gojo.

"Is this you in high school?!" You gasp seeing the picture in all its glory as you tap on it

You take the blushing and silence as a yes.

"Your bangs!" You laugh

"I know, it's bad. I don't know what I was thinking." He admits sheepishly

"I think it's kinda cute." You admit, "It kinda reminds me of an emo haircut."

"I wasn't emo." He says

"You sure? Those bangs aren't very convincing..." You laugh "Not to metnion you're not smiling here either...kinda seems emo to me!"

"I wasn't!" He groans, finally reaching successfully for his phone "I wasn't emo...I'm not emo."

You laugh at the way he texts this Satoru Gojo back with a scowl on his face.

"You should tell this person my opinions of your hair." You say

"So he can call me an emo when I get back? I don't think so. Nice try though." Nanami says gently tapping his shoe against yours under the table

Vacation Day 6:

You agree to Nanami's suggestion of a nice stroll through the lit-up city. City lights twinkle against the dark sky as you see the shops and karts selling different goods. You pick up the goofiest-looking plushies and make up different voices for each of them as Nanami watches and laughs.

"Wait, stop for a second." He says suddenly

"Hmm? Do you want one of those weird charms? They don't really seem like they're your style." You say, distracted by the store he's stopped you in front of.

A soft tickle on your leg brings your attention downward and you see something you're not expecting. Nanami is down on one of his knees tying the laces on your left sneaker. His blonde hair is brushing your knee as he finishes up.

"I didn't want you to trip." He says gently patting the back of your calf as he straightens back up

"Oh, thank you." You say, trying to ignore how warm his hands felt against your leg.

You're a mess internally as you try to keep cool when he continues to walk. If he keeps this up you're going to end up in love with him before this trip was over...wait...has that been his goal the whole time? It couldn't possibly be.

"Could I ask you a question?" Nanami asks when you finally get yourself together

"Sure." You say

"Are those red cups I see in movies actually a real thing where you come from?"

That's his question? Why would Solo cups not be a real thing?

"Umm of course!" You laugh at his dorky question, "Did you think they were fake?"

"I just thought it was strange that everyone drank from red cups at parties." He shrugs

"Well, for your information, Nanami I've been to multiple parties and drank from a red cup like in the movies." You say

"Interesting." He says, his body gently bumping into yours when you get a little too close, "You can call me Kento."

"I thought in Japan you were supposed to call a person by their last name." You say

"Well, yes that's for formality." He says, "I think we're familiar with each other though, we've been around each other for six full days now."

"Alright then, Kento." You smile, testing his first name out on your tongue

You want to laugh when Kento drags you into a tie shop. He must want something fun to wear to work when he gets home. You suggest multiple different kinds that are ridiculous and would probably get him fired. Your personal favorite? The one with the huge eagle with a snake in his talons. It was just too ridiculous to be real. Honestly it reminded you of things you'd see back home. It was just missing the signature red white and blue.

"Here, switch places with me." Kento says as you exit the store and get back on the sidewalk

"What? Okay." You agree

You don't miss the way he smiles to himself when he gets what he wants. Does he have a preferred side of the sidewalk or something? Who enjoys being on the side closer to the road? What a weird man.

Vacation Day 7:

"You're really strange sometimes." You observe

"How so?" He asks as he bites into a cookie

"You were fully content just wandering into my hotel room. What if I was an axe murderer?" You ask

It was a rainy day in Kuantan. There were road closures and a few downed trees nearby so you had invited Kento to spend the day with you in your hotel room. The two of you were wrapped in fuzzy bathrobes and had just polished off an excellent room service meal that he had insisted on paying for despite you insiting that it was payment for driving you around.

"I knew you weren't though." He says

"And if I was?" You ask

"I would be disappointed and then I'd try to fight you and your axe off." He says

"What if I was too strong?" You joke

"I doubt it." He laughs as he flexes one of his arms.

There isn't much to look at because of the bathrobe that conceals his arms from your greedy eyes but you swear you can see a bit of definition under all the fuzzy material.

"Whatever..." You mumble

His stupidly pretty face is making you say dumb things. Who talks about axe murderers with such a good looking man in their bed? You were surely the biggest idiot in all of Malaysia.

"I thought you said this was a good movie," Kento says

"It is! You just need to give it a chance!" You say

"We're already ten minutes in and the only jokes they've made are about sex and drugs." Kento points out

"Okay, but...look you just have to trust me okay!" You say looking at your laptop which is playing Superbad, a film Kento hasn't ever seen

"There is more to humor than just bad sex jokes." He says

"Well, not in this movie. Now hush." You say unpausing the movie

Kento Nanami's eyes drift over you as you're mesmerized by this movie. Sure there were funny moments but he had definitely seen better.

Besides, how could he focus on some old 2000s movie when he was too distracted by you? You look too cute for words in the hotel's bathrobe and there's even a bit of chocolate smeared on your face from the Hershey kisses you had pulled out of your bag and insisted he try earlier.

His eyes rake over you and your entire room in general. A pair of blue jeans haphazardly sits on the chair across the room. He can see the American flag-printed sunglasses you wore the other day sitting on the nightstand beside a few stray hair ties. An oversized bag of chips you had brought from back home is half eaten on the bed near his feet, he didn't even know they made bags that large.

He swore you were some walking stereotype of things he didn't even know were real outside movies. To top it all off he's pretty sure you're wearing a "New York Yankees Baseball" t-shirt underneath your robe.

"You're so American."

The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, clearly a bit offended by his words

"Nothing, nothing." He laughs at the way your eyebrows knit together in confusion

"Tell me!" You groan reaching out to punch at his arm.

He easily catches it and pulls you into his side.

"Nothing. You're just really American." He smiles as he wraps an arm around you

You let out a huff of annoyance that he finds cute.

"Whatever, Kento. Maybe you're just too Japanese." You dismiss as you rest your head on his chest.

He lets out a hum of amusement and just accepts the way you send a mean pinch to his upper thigh. The pain is barely there but he laughs when you gently rub at the spot as a form of apology.

He's never been more glad that he came to Kuantan. He can't wait to visit more corners of the world, hopefully with you at his side. Yes, he's sure he wants to be around you even more, even if you're loud in stores, drink out of red cups, and wear baseball themed shirts. Sure, you might be oh-so-American to everyone else but he loves every bit of it.

Was that a cringe ending? I hope it wasn't.

As an american, I tried to think of stereotypes to put into this fic and struggled. IS that a sign I'm blind to them? Probably. Oops.

Yes, I'm still working on my Gojo fic. Have some Nanami while you wait. Consider this my formal apology for what I did to him in the Gojo fic...

My Masterlist

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navybrat817 · 5 months

Note

Do Stud and Smartie do a nice Thanksgiving or do they just have a relaxing day?

It would be low-key if they celebrated, nonnie!

So Thankful

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You share some laughs with Bucky while you cook together.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Puns (so many puns), fluff, being thankful, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for Stud and Smartie. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was Bucky’s idea to start cooking early so you could eat sooner and relax later. You were more than okay with that. While today reminded you of the blessings to count and memories to cherish, neither of you wanted to go overboard. A nice, simple meal to show that two of you were thankful for the good things in your life and each other was more than enough.

No traveling. No stress. Just each other.

I’ll always be thankful for you, Stud.

You glanced over at Bucky as he checked on the food in the oven before you went back to your task at hand. The kitchen was a safe haven in your apartment and making meals together was something you looked forward to no matter what the occasion. Though the space could be hectic at times with the banging pots and sizzling sounds, it was also an area to relax and have fun with your creations.

The impromptu dance breaks brought an extra layer of warmth in between cooking.

Bucky looked over your shoulder as he came up behind you with a small hum. “Looks good,” he commented as you added a pinch of spice to one of the side dishes.

You angled your head to brush your lips along his jaw and took a moment to breathe him in. He wrapped an arm around your waist in return and he pulled you close. “You look even better.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you smiled.

“I'm a mess,” he mumbled, giving your jaw a kiss. “Don't even have a shirt on.”

“And I'm thankful for that,” you sighed dreamily. He said earlier that he’d put a shirt on once you finished cooking, but you would've been happy if he stayed in his sinfully sexy gray sweatpants only. “So, so thankful.”

“I don't think our families would appreciate me video chatting with them without my shirt on,” he joked.

You snorted as you tried to picture the look on your mom and dad’s faces. As much as you missed not seeing them today, the video chat would help. If Bucky really didn't wear a shirt, they would make light of it.

And nothing would top the hickey discussion, your cheeks hot from the memory alone.

“Becca would never let you hear the end of that,” you said, leaning back against him. “And you may have to put a shirt on, but you'll have to eventually get out of those pants.”

He chuckled deeply, your eyes fluttering shut when his mouth touched your ear. “Will you help me with that?”

“You know I will,” you replied, smiling to yourself. “And I hope this dinner won’t be the only thing filling me up tonight.”

Bucky pulled away from your ear before he burst out laughing, the happy sound reverberating in the room as his chest moved against your back. It was like he was sharing his laughter with you. “Well, I’d love to stuff your turkey,” he said once he caught his breath.

“Yeah?” You smirked, turning in his arms to face him. “You wanna butter my biscuits?”

What’s a day like this without puns?

His eyes crinkled like he was going to laugh again. “Oh, yeah. I’ll butter your biscuits real good,” he rasped. It wasn't fair that his puns sounded sexy while yours sounded ridiculous. “Maybe I'll candy your yams, too.”

“Oh, my God,” you giggled when he pushed his body against yours and pressed your back into the counter.

“I’m not God. I'm just Bucky,” he grinned, leaning in close enough that his lips touched yours. “But maybe I can show you my meat thermometer and you can drop to your knees like you’ll pray for me to put it in your mouth.”

I mean, yes.

“Okay, seriously. What the hell have you done with my Stud?” You demanded, trying to shove him back even as heat shot through your body. Your beefy man didn't even have the gall to budge.

“Just let me check your temperature,” he pleaded with an innocent stare, a great contrast to what he was offering. “Make sure you’re hot and ready.”

“How did you say that with a straight face? How?!”

“This is me. This is who you're marrying,” he said proudly, your cheeks warm at the reminder that the gorgeous man in your personal space was going to be your husband. The heat rose more when his gaze swept over your body. “And I can't decide what I want first. Thighs or breasts. Both are juicy and delicious.”

You sharply inhaled as his eyes darkened a shade. “I don't know if I want you to stop or continue, but I’m telling everyone at Friendsgiving this weekend what you said.”

He tilted his head as if he was contemplating the options. “I think you want me to continue, especially since the turkey isn't the only thing that needs basting.”

I’ve created a monster.

You giggled all over again, your side almost aching. “St-Stop,” you wheezed.

He framed your face and kissed the tip of your nose, his touch almost drawing a whimper from you as you calmed down. “I'm sorry,” he said sincerely before he smirked again. “Why don't I give you something to gobble on until we eat? It might help.”

I must stop this man.

“You think you’re so ‘punny’,” you said, resting your hands over his. And he was. He would always find a way to make you laugh.

The charming smile he gave you was almost hot enough to melt your panties. “I like to think I'm adorkable.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “This is what I have to look forward to, huh? A lifetime of this?”

Bucky’s eyes went soft before he closed them, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He kissed you like it was as easy as breathing, open, steady, and natural. It was like the floor beneath your feet vanished. You floated, but his lips and tongue tethered you to him. It reminded you how loved you were.

And you would always be thankful that he gave you that gift.

“As long as you're by my side, it’ll be the best life I live,” he whispered, giving you another soft kiss. “And I’m very much looking forward to it.”

You had to swallow the tears in your throat. Who wouldn't choke up at that? “I’m looking forward to it, too,” you whispered, your heart racing at the fond look in his eyes. “And Stud?”

“Yeah, Smartie?”

You smiled, having to get one last pun in. “You’re welcome to mash my potatoes anytime.”

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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lucid-loves · 3 months

Text

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: While you are alone in your own hotel room, the men talk about you over Italian cuisine. This includes speculation on Ghost’s feelings for you. Meanwhile, you are already gearing up for infiltration to tap the target building. Ghost decides that he wants a front-row seat to your show.

A/N: I am adding a taglist from now on for those who want to be a part of one. I made a post asking people to like it if they wanted to be part of it. If you would like to comment that you want to be in a taglist, you can do so on this post~

Taglist: @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @dory-98 @cum-tea-and-towels @completelymarveltrash

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Good God, authentic pizza was absolutely amazing. The standard for pasta was incredible as well. It beat the standard cafeteria food back on base by a landslide. The 141 grimaced as they thought about someday having to return to the food back home. Even the food they’ve eaten out of your fridge has been refreshing to their taste buds. Soap was the most vocal about his dread of the mass-cook cafeteria food as he devoured another slice of heaven. “Christ, going back to bland spinach and soggy rice is going to be fuckin’ painful!”

“Remember when they tried to do a taco night. Fucking hell, the lettuce was dripping fat like a sponge.” Gaz added as he took a swig of whiskey. It wasn’t the Italian choice of liquor to pair with food, but it was the 141’s choice. Not Ghost’s though. He missed his Kentucky bourbon.

“Last Thanksgiving was the most painful for me. Turkey was drier than my fuckin’ belt.” Soap chuckled, trying not to drip sauce onto the bed with how his whole body laughed with him. They were eating in one of the double queen hotel rooms, away from the public eye. When they were all together in a group, they often garnered attention. Such was the price for being such large, capable men.

“Anyone reckon that Hex is up yet? Food is gonna get cold.” Price inquired. They had saved some food for you. A plate full of different things since no one knew what you liked. Even Kate didn’t know when they called to ask her. Still, they tried their best anyway. And their best was getting cold on a ceramic plate.

Soap shook his head in refusal. “I’m not gonna knock on her door. The lass scares the shite out of me.”

Gaz laughed out loud. “Soap? Afraid? Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Hey, you weren’t the one that nearly lost an ear! With fuckin’ car keys of all things.” He defended, taking a long swig of his own drink. He clearly wasn’t going to forgive you for that any time soon. It made him annoyed when he thought about the fact that you probably didn’t care.

Price shrugged and poured himself another drink. “You were kinda asking for it, Johnny. I think I would’ve nearly killed you too if I’m being honest.”

“Well, Lt. made the joke first and he didn't nearly get stabbed.” He continued to argue, looking to Simon for an answer on how it was different when he cracked the joke. Ghost just stared with indifference, sitting in the corner with his mask halfway up. Even if he was with the people he trusted with his identity, he just felt more comfortable hiding his face while he ate.

The room went quiet for a moment as the men thought about it. Out of all of them, Ghost seemed to be the one that was able to get the closest to you. You still pushed him away by miles, but it was definitely closer than they were getting. Kyle took another slice of pizza, the fresh basil so vibrantly green that it looked like it was glowing. “How do you feel so comfortable pushing her boundaries, Lieutenant? One attempt at our lives is enough for us to back off. Yet, you seem to keep going back for more.”

The men waited for an answer, an idea crawling into each of their heads. Price had already picked up on it by now. He noticed as soon as Ghost lifted you in his arms. Gaz vocalizing his observation out loud just now triggered Soap to realize it too. A slow, knowing smirk crept along Soap’s lips. Simon scowled at the insinuation, reading all of their minds. “All of you can bury your ideas six feet under. I’m just trying to get her to trust us. The mission will go a lot smoother if she does. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go home.”

All of them returned to enjoying their meals, unconvinced by Ghost’s protest. Was Simon attracted to you? Absolutely. Did he like you? Well, he certainly didn’t hate you. The biggest problem for him was that you were dangerous. Not just from an ability standpoint, but from an emotional standpoint. While he did want to get close to you, he still wanted to keep you just out of arm’s reach emotionally because he knew that you would burn him. Poison him with that venom of yours. He knew if he really did fall for you, he would never stop falling.

For the sake of the mission and his own preservation, he convinced himself that you were only a temporary attraction. A beautiful woman with incredible power that will return to the unknown as soon as this is all over. His teammates knew better, though. In all their time of knowing Simon, he has never shown interest in women. Always too busy. Always too focused on work. Not even making time for hook-ups. When you came into the picture, you got his attention in a way they have never seen before. That meant a lot to them.

“Regardless, you have the honor of delivering our assassin her dinner, Lieutenant.” Price smirked, abusing his power as Captain to avoid feeding the feral woman next door. Ghost clenched his jaw, cursing out John in his mind as he got up.

The men continued their lighthearted conversation as Simon walked out, plate of food in hand. Taking a deep breath, he walked to your door and knocked. When there was no answer, he thought that perhaps you were still asleep. So, he took out his spare keycard to the room and welcomed himself in.

The room was dim, large shadows casing over the beige walls. A few laptops were running on the desks, already hacked into the security cameras of the target building. You’ve actually been up for a while and have been busy getting things ready for your infiltration. It was alarming when you woke up in your hotel room instead of the car at first. However, it didn’t take you long to figure out that someone must’ve carried you. You were pretty sure who it was, but you didn’t dwell on it. There was work to be done and you had wasted too much time with sleep.

Kate helped you get into their systems. From there, a layout of the building was mapped out along with the IDs of everyone working for Makarov. You have watched enough security footage to take note of the guard routes. All that needed to be done was planting the taps to allow you to listen in on everything. Nothing was going to be unheard. Not even the sound of a guard taking a bathroom break.

Simon watched you fasten a black belt tight around your hips that carried a collection of small throwing knives. You wore new pants, a long sleeve turtleneck with a hood, and boots. All tight. All black. His hands ached to reach out in order to trace your prominent curves. He wanted to feel the thin fabric of your shirt, the heat of your skin exuding through it.

Instead of that, he placed the food down on top of your dresser, resisting the temptation. “Not going to eat first?”

You didn’t even glance his way, something he wanted to fix immediately. “No. It will weigh me down. I had room service bring up some fruit earlier. It will tie me over until I get back.”

“You’re leaving now?” He questioned, anger rising in his tone. You should have let them know that you were awake. That you were set up with the tech. That you wanted to proceed with the mission with a lookout. You shouldn’t have intended to do this alone.

But, you couldn’t help it. This is how you have always worked. Besides, to you, there was no reason to waste time with unnecessary things like knocking on their door to let them know you were ready. What were you? A fucking dog looking to be let out? “Now is better than later. Security usually lets their guard down after meals. It’s not too late in the night to expect intruders too. Now is the optimal time for me to place the taps.”

Simon scoffed at your unapologetic reasoning. “And you were just going to do this alone? Not even someone to watch the cameras out for you? What if you get compromised?”

Here we fucking go again. You grabbed the taps sitting on the desk, putting them in a small satchel securely tied to your belt. “Can you not criticize the way I do things every fucking conversation? I’m doing what I do best, Simon. I’ve never been compromised before. That’s a streak I intend to keep.”

He stepped towards you, his frame menacing as he towered over you. Hearing your name come from your lips was still something he wasn’t used to. Despite that, he wasn’t going to let you do this alone. This time, his tone was gentle yet resolute. “I’m letting the force know and I’m going to monitor the cameras.”

Looking up into his eyes, you could see that he wasn’t going to waver from his decision. There was no point fighting about this, you finally decided. Not even twelve hours ago was your last fight with him. A part of you was getting tired of it. Stepping back towards the hotel window to leave, you threw in the towel. It wasn’t going to stop you from getting the job done anyhow. “Do whatever you want. I don’t give a shit.”

“Hang on.” Ghost stopped you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He pulled you towards him, using the advantage of his strength to have you close to him. Anticipating you to either reach for your knives or strike him with your other hand, he prepared to guard himself. However, you never used the same trick twice in a row.

Like a forceful tango, you stepped your full weight forward to catch him off balance. You then pushed further as he was forced to step back lest you headbutt him, your hand now having the room to land on his chest with a quick, sharp force. In Simon’s fall, you swiped his sheathed knife from his own belt. Before he knew it, he was laying on his back on your bed, you straddling him, his eyes locking with yours that blazed with victory.

Ghost’s strong hand was still wrapped around your wrist, but your free hand had his own knife pressed against his chest. Right over his heart that was thudding against his chest like it wanted to break out. The hot blood in his body was pumping into overdrive. Not in fear of death. No. In pure, passionate attraction. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to still pull you down and kiss you through his mask. Even if it would cause the knife to be plunged into his heart, the thought of being able to share a passionate kiss with you didn’t seem like a bad tradeoff.

Tendrils of your hair fell past your face, framing a beautiful jawline he wanted to trace with his lips. The image of you gasping in shock and pleasure as he squeezed your hips flashed in his mind for a second. It wouldn't have been hard to do. His other hand was still free but frozen as you pressed the tip of the blade into his chest. He also imagined the potential sweetness of your tongue, giving him a taste of dessert after dinner. He wanted to be the one to catch you by surprise and submit to his will. Only, you would love it and beg for more through feverish kisses and the grinding of your hips against his.

Christ, he was getting a boner.

He wasn’t the only one who was feeling it, though. The sound of your own heartbeat was flooding your ears. You couldn’t seem to pull away from his blue eyes that so heatedly begged for you to come closer. The heat already felt from your body pressing against his didn’t feel like enough. Especially when you began to feel his growing hardness pressing against you. That just made your own sex tingle with need.

You got off of him quickly, putting distance between the two of you. What the fuck were you doing?! What the hell was wrong with you?! You haven't been with anyone for so long, but it was no excuse to get so swept up like this. Not with someone like Ghost. Not with someone like Simon Riley. You needed to get a fucking grip. Get your head on straight. Damn it, you were better than this!

Slowly, he sat up and cleared his throat, trying to pretend that what just happened wasn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever been through. His knife was tossed onto the bed next to him, your movements quick as you rushed to get the fuck out of there.

However, when Simon called your name, you froze. He sounded a little breathless, his voice making you shiver. “Hex, wait.”

Simon stood from the bed to grab something from the desk. Cautiously, he walked towards you, now learning his lesson that it wasn’t a great idea to just grab you so suddenly for multiple reasons. At a slow pace, he opened his large palm to show you a small earpiece. Still being careful with his speed and touch, he lightly brushed your hair behind your ear and inserted the earpiece for you. You flinched as his fingers brushed against your jaw, butterflies erupting within you.

“You’ll be able to hear me through this. I won’t say anything unless I really have to. You’ll be able to talk to me through it too. Whatever you want, whatever you need, just say it.” Ghost promised.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You feared that using your voice would reveal just how flustered you were over what just transpired. Instead, you gave a simple nod and headed back to your window.

The nighttime breeze flooded in as soon as you opened the window, the chill seeping into your bones. Good. You needed to cool off. Without looking back, you slipped out into the night, leaving Simon behind to wonder if supposed enemies were supposed to be attracted to each other like this.

The shadows concealed you, the moonlight accentuating them on every surface they could touch. Quietly and quickly, you moved from shadow to shadow until you stumbled upon the targeted building. From the outside, it looked like a rundown, abandoned office building up for sale. The place was hidden away, tucked behind the forefront of what Italy wanted to offer instead. Beauty.

You watched armed men standing guard, looking out into the alleyways for enemies. Sticking to the shadows, you crept along the side of the building before spotting an open window just above you. Taking a deep breath to focus your mind, you sprung into action. With a few wall jumps, you were right in one of Makarov’s weapons depot.

From the laptops back at the hotel, Ghost carefully watched the footage, almost holding his breath as he searched for you. His team gathered into the room once he told them you had left already. They had assumed that all the time he spent missing with you was just him helping set up the tech. He didn’t correct them on this. Like you had said before, never underestimate the power of assumptions.

Relief washed over his shoulders as soon as he saw your figure invade the building. Just as fast as you had entered, you hid, dropping a tap that was modeled to look like a dead fly onto the dirty tile. The place was dusty, the smell of stagnant air filling your lungs. The men here didn’t care about the cleanliness of the place. Fortunately for the 141, that meant that they wouldn't have to worry about anyone cleaning up the “dead flies.”

All of the men watched the footage as you swiftly made your way from room to room dropping flies. Soap double checked to make sure that the enemies’ own footage was still scrubbed as you worked. Regardless, you moved so carefully that any video of you just looked like a weird, black glitch. You were in your zone. This is what you did for years. This is what you have secretly missed doing.

Every move you made was calculated, following a strict regime based on the men’s own schedule. As you dropped more and more taps, Price began to check if they worked on his end. Sure enough, they could hear everything.

Gaz noticed that Ghost’s body was rigid, his eyes refusing to leave the screens. He was keeping track of you like he would lose sight of you if he blinked. Wanting to ease his worries, he began to prepare some tea using the hotel’s electric kettle. Kyle was always one to look out for his friends like this.

A hot cup of black tea was placed in front of Ghost, the smell already releasing the tension in his muscles. Gaz pat his stiff shoulder. “She’s gonna be alright, bruv.”

Ghost gave a silent nod, finally taking a moment to let his eyes wander off of the monitor to have a sip of tea. Now that he was more relaxed, he viewed your movements in a more admiring way. None of them could pull off how smoothly you moved. How easy you glided through like a gust of wind passing through. Even when you were close to an enemy, you kept your cool, refrained from killing, and moved on without detection.

You were a god damn modern-day ninja. A fine one at that.

In less than an hour, you had swept through the whole building without detection. Every tap was planted. Not once did you hear Simon in your ear either. You were glad. You felt like if you heard his voice through the earpiece it would break your flow. But, a part of you did yearn to hear his deep voice so close to you.

Getting out was the easiest part. Having no one seen you come in, you took the same route out. When you came back through the window, you were met with grateful smiles and words of praise that were foreign to your ears. Ghost wanted to be the first one to say something about your skills, but loud-mouth Sergeant Soap beat him to it. “Damn, Lass! I think you just set a record for 141!”

“That was quite impressive stuff there, Hex. It was like you were never there. Kate was right about you.” Price grinned as he thanked you in his own way.

Gaz hopped on the headphones to listen to the taps as soon as his Captain moved. “All of them are working just fine. I’ve only ever seen moves like that in movies and video games. Job well done!”

You were unsure of what to do with all of this attention, never having experienced it before. When you worked alone, there was no one to tell you that you did well when you got back. You didn’t know if all of this flattery made you feel good. In all honesty, the confusion you felt about it made you a little sick to your stomach.

Weaving past them all, you grabbed your cold plate of food that Simon brought to you earlier and left without a word through the door. After receiving some worried glances from his soldiers, Price provided some words of reassurance. “Don’t worry, men. Hex probably isn’t used to having people wait for her like this, let alone praise for good work. Give her time.”

As the team brought back some of the tech to monitor from their rooms, Ghost stepped out into the hallway to look for you. He initially thought that you would be in one of their rooms to use the microwave, but you were nowhere in sight. While he wanted to keep looking, a call by his Captain to help made him call it there for the night.

And so he spent the rest of the night bunking with Soap, listening in on private conversations and thinking about you. Meanwhile, you spent your night eating a cold dinner alone on the hotel rooftop. Overlooking the city, your own mind occasionally wandered against your will towards Ghost and how it would feel if his heat saved you from the autumn winds chilling your skin.

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #cod fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader

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jokeringcutio · 4 months

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Stepdad!William Afton x Reader - Christmas Present (WARNINGS:SMUT)

Warnings: Creampie, taboo, stepdad x reader, secret s*x, Daddy kink, Christmas Dinner, Secret touching, Fingering, Behind your mom's back, Praise kink, dd/lg, Dark William Afton/William Afton is not a nice man, Mutual agreeance & consensual intercourse.

AN: I don't know what I did, but this just came out. Not beta read but I am going to sleep now and I wanted to share this with you all. For quick links and more, see notes below.

The soft glow of Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm, inviting atmosphere. You sat at the table with your mom, stepdad William, stepsister Vanessa, and her new boyfriend Mike. The scent of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, while laughter and cheerful conversation echoed around you.

Vanessa and Mike animatedly chatted about their budding relationship, beaming as they recounted their favorite dates and shared aspirations. Their love was palpable, and they seemed eager to impress your mom and William with their connection. It seemed to work, your mom seemed smitten with Mike and William hadn’t said a nasty thing to him all evening – which you considered a win.

"Hey," Vanessa said, turning her attention to you, "when are you going to get a boyfriend?" Your heart clenched, and words failed to form in your throat. She didn't know what had been going on behind closed doors.

"Yes, good question," William chimed in. “Your mom has been dying to get a grandkid or two,” he said, feigning concern.

You nearly spat your drink out and tried to look away. Especially as beneath the tablecloth, you felt his hand snake onto your upper leg, fingers brushing against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, the ghost of his touch haunting you.

“Dad!” Vanessa cried out.

“Well, it’s true,” William said matter-of-factly, and you could tell from the corner of your eyes that your mother blushed. “I just want to see all my girls happy and settled. So, when will you bring home a nice boy for me to meet?” His voice dripped with insincerity. Bringing home a date was the last thing he was waiting for. He didn’t want to see you date, or risk losing you to anyone else.

The fingers on your legs dug possessively into your skin, a silent warning that you were already claimed.

His.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact. "I've just been busy with work, you know?"

"Sure, but there's always time for love," Mike added, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. He didn’t know what was going on – none of them did. He couldn’t see how your stepdad’s fingers traced up your Christmas over-the-knee stockings until they met bare skin.

"Maybe one day," you murmured, forcing a smile. As the conversation moved on, William's hand remained on your leg, a sinister reminder of the secrets you shared.

It became hard to focus on dinner like that. With his palm hotly upon your flesh. Memories of your stepdad’s mouth on your skin, his possessive grip on your hips, and his whispered promises to keep your liaisons secret washed over you.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the colorful decorations and warm atmosphere as everyone continued eating, trying to ignore the sick knot forming in your stomach.

God, how could you want a man like him so badly? When you knew it was so wrong?

"Delicious turkey, Mom," you said, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. Your mother beamed with pride, but all the while, you felt William's hand inching further up your leg, like a spider crawling toward its prey.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied, oblivious to the tension that was slowly strangling the air around you.

"Great job with the table setting too," Vanessa chimed in, squeezing Mike's hand as they exchanged loving glances.

Yes, great. Excellent, you sardonically thought as your stepdad’s fingertip brushed past the crotch of your panties. A wet spot formed where his fingers brushed past your nub, the now damp material seemingly spurring him on, for his fingers became more insistent. Even going as far as to hook underneath the elastics of your panties at one point to dip a fingertip between your soaked folds. You flinched, knee banging against the underside of the table, and whispered a flustered apology while William dipped his finger a little deeper inside your cunt – as far as he could go from where he was seated really.

You met his heated blue gaze as you looked to your side, saw the way he watched you intently from behind his aviator glasses. He pumped inside of you a few times, just to the second knuckle, and then his finger slid out again.

The now wet digit remained on your naked thigh for the remainder of the meal, only leaving when William had to pass food around. You watched with fascination as the criminal digit stroked past one of the bowls, how his fingertip glistened with your juices and accidentally tapped against some of the lettuce inside.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you picked at your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. Your core was like a fuzzy ball full of wires that all got tangled. Expecting your stepdad to touch you - and hating the fact that you wished he would.

When dinner finally ended, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from work. You escaped to your room, away from your stepsister and her happy relationship, away from your mother and her bright smiles. And most importantly, away from him.

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could protect you from the reality lurking just beyond your bedroom door. Sleep was elusive, your thoughts racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The creak of the door opening sliced through the darkness like a knife, and your breath caught in your throat as you heard your stepdad’s familiar footsteps approaching. He stood beside your bed, his presence looming over you like a shadowy figure.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to deliver your present."

He wouldn’t even flick on the light, but you could see him illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps through the window. He was already naked, a bow wrapped around the base of his already erect cock. He held it in his right hand, stroking himself and brushing his thumb past the head, the slit already weeping pre-cum that glistened like white pearls in the dark. "I've been waiting for you all through dinner." He stepped closer until you felt the bed dip with his weight, resting a knee next to you on the mattress. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and tantalizing.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, but your body betrayed you, nodding in submission. The tension in the room was palpable, both of you knowing what was about to happen. You wore a nightgown with nothing underneath. As always. Easy access for Dad. Like Daddy’s good girl.

His hands found yours, gently guiding them to the ribbon around his shaft. Your fingers trembled, but followed his lead, slipping beneath the fabric to pull it off. Your fingertips gently stroked past his fevered skin, feeling the ridges and the veins and how his member throbbed at the slightest touch.

"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your flushed form before he pushed you down on the bed again.

He wasted no time, reaching out to touch you, fingers tracing delicate patterns across your sensitive flesh. You gasped, hips arching involuntarily as pleasure bloomed within you. The suddenness of it all was overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of guilt and desire. Your nipples peeked underneath your nightgown, his blue eyes drawn toward them. He lifted your gown to reveal your stomach and breasts, wasting no time in tasting your skin with his lips and his tongue.

You writhed underneath him in pleasure while his erection bobbed against your hip. The wish to just put it in there grew stronger and stronger with each flick of the tongue and each nibble of teeth.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as he kept your arms pinned down, hovering over you like a predator eating its prey. His lips moved lower, just when it became too much, and then his tongue flicked past your stomach to your core.

A yelp escaped you, and wetness gushed forth between your folds, making your core glisten in the light of the lamps from outdoors.

"Quiet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to your inner thigh. "Your mother might be waiting for me in our room right now. You don’t want her to find us like this, do you?"

It took effort to shake your head and mutter a faint no, because he was driving you wild. Your core pulsed with slick, too empty and aching to be filled. You were drowning in sensation, sinking deeper into the abyss of forbidden lust.

"Please," you whimpered, no longer able to distinguish between want and need.

"Shh, you want to be Daddy’s sweet girl, right?" He cooed, pressing his lips to your trembling ones. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

And so he did. His hands roamed, his mouth tasted, and your body responded with an urgency you had never known. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the symphony of your ragged breaths and whispered moans.

"William," you gasped, as he finally positioned his hard cock at your entrance. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his sweaty skin. “Daddy, please,” you begged him. “I wanna be your good girl. Fill me up, please, Daddy. I wanna be good for you.”

And with a grin that made his teeth glisten in the dark, he entered you, filling you completely. His thick cock spread your pulsing walls wide, pussy fluttering helplessly around his size as he bottomed out. His balls slapped against your skin as he moved out and then in again, nudging his cockhead deep inside your core and making you see stars.

It was such a delight. How you had missed feeling him inside of you like this. To be filled so completely by this man that your mother called her lover.

If only she knew.

William filled you completely, satisfying a primal need you wished you had never known as it became an addiction. It was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated you.

"Say my name again," he demanded, eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear it."

"Daddy," you repeated, more firmly this time, feeling a surge of power as he shuddered above you.

The love you made was sweet and tender, yet laced with a darkness that could not be denied. Whispers of ‘my sweet girl’ and ‘Daddy’s good girl’ were accompanied by a pull of your hair or a thrust so rough it made your teeth chatter. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. And when you finally tumbled over, it was as if the world had shattered around you, leaving only fragments of pleasure and pain. Your walls fluttered around his cock, forcing him over the brink with you. A loud groan filled your ear and revibrated through your entire body.

As you lay there, panting and spent, your stepdad slowly moved up on his elbows and reached for something on your nightstand. The light blinked on and you had to close your eyes because of the brightness, bringing an arm up to your head.

His warm body withdrew from yours with a slick squelch. And then you felt his strong large hands as he pushed your legs open wide. You slowly recognized he reached for his phone, capturing the aftermath of your union. The sight of white globs of sperm leaking from between your legs seemed to bring him immense satisfaction, and he held the camera up close to capture it. The way your pussy pulsed in the aftermath, the way his seed was slowly pushed out and then sucked back in again by your body - a wicked smile graced his features as he recorded it all.

Then, once he was satisfied, he put the phone aside.

"Best Christmas present ever," he declared, his voice heavy with pride and possession.

You smiled up at him, cheeks flustered and eyes tired. You slowly pulled your nightgown back down, covering the fresh hickeys, love bites and bruises your stepdad just gave you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, heart swelling with satisfaction when William’s blue eyes twinkled at your words.

“Good girl,” he said again.

You watched as he slowly raised himself from the bed and bent forward to seek for the Christmas ribbon. Once he found it, he pumped his cock in his fist a few times until it started to become erect again.

“Help me with this, will you?” he asked, holding out the ribbon for you to take. You sat up on the bed on your knees to help him, feeling how even more of his sperm seemed to leave your soaking-wet core. You bit your lip as you tied the ribbon around the base of his cock once more, creating a lovely bow, then carefully glanced up at him.

William caught your look and groaned. “Oh, honey, don’t look at me with puppy eyes like that. Makes me just want to ravish you again.”

He bent over to capture your lips in his own, cock still in his hand, pumping himself a few more times. When he broke the kiss and leaned back you could see how his cock was now back on the way to be fully erect again, and you bit your lip in desire.

“Much as I want to fill you up a second time, I got to tend to your mom first. Promised her a Christmas present as well.”

He must have seen the way your face fell – no one wanted to be reminded of their lover having sex with someone else, especially when they were family. But you had known something like this would happen. He was your mom’s husband after all. Not yours.

A gentle brush of his thumb past your lip and your gaze softened.

“What will you tell her about the wetness?” you asked, shyly gesturing at his cock which was still coated in your mixed juices.

William’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “I’ll just tell her I lubed up,” and then his hand ruffled through your hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your still Daddy’s favorite girl.”

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. The gesture should have been comforting, but it only served to remind you of the twisted reality you now found yourself in. You watched as your stepdad left the room and then cuddled underneath the blankets again. A smile slid on your lips and you closed your eyes.

Your stepdad knew how to give the best presents for Christmas ever. ~ AN: Merry Whatever you Celebrate.🥳 If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi (: I'll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I'll keep you up to date :) Quick links: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#william afton #william afton x reader #stepdad x stepdaughter #stepdad au #merry christmas filth #william afton x you #william afton x female reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #matthew lillard x reader #fnaf smut #older man x younger woman #This is smut

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jo-harrington · 10 months

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Peak Sales Hours (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his first Black Friday, Eddie is exhausted and takes comfort in his new relationship with you.

Previous Part: Promotion

Warnings/Themes: Established friendship/new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort(?), idk it's a lot of comfort, working in retail hell, Eddie works at Tape World and Reader is the Store Manager at Claire's in Starcourt Mall, angry customers, weariness

Note: So...hi guys. Welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. This little installment is sort of skipping a step. I had a whole thing planned and half-written of Eddie and our favorite SM actually confessing their feelings and being fluffy...and it's still gonna happen I'm just...on day whatever of work and have a big deadline and have had sleep for lunch the past I-don't-know how many days.

And it just took me back to the countless Black Friday and Peak Holiday shifts where all I wanted was to get back home. So here we are.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

Never, in his entire life, had Eddie Munson felt more akin to the heroes from his favorite fantasy stories.

Long journeys and harrowing battles.

Deep wounds and comrades lost to the beyond.

Hoards of villains and the promise of a better future if only there was hope.

Taran. Aragorn. Luke Skywalker. They had seen it all.

"What's taking so long? I just need a gift receipt!"

But none of them had ever worked Black Friday.

He had experienced Black Friday before, as a shopper.

Thanksgiving hadn't ever been anything magnificent in the Munson household, especially after his mom died. Wayne and Rick had always tried to make it still feel special for Eddie, with hearty midwest comfort foods.

There would always be a full belly and an even fuller heart with his uncle and his almost-step-dad around. Eddie could never complain.

Then after a late afternoon dinner, Wayne would pack up a plate of leftovers to make his shift at the plant that paid time-and-a-half, plus a little something extra from the plant manager, cash in hand. By the time Eddie woke up the next morning, Wayne would pull up with a box of fresh donuts, honk three times, and they would be on their way to the Kmart on Rt 9 and get some steeply discounted goods with Wayne's holiday pay.

It was always a madhouse, but Eddie could swiftly dodge screaming kids, empathize with over-caffeinated employees, and wait in long lines if he and Wayne didn't need to fret about things like work boots and gloves, t-shirts and underwear, and usually one nice little Christmas gift for each of them.

This year, of course, had been a little different. Wayne had been a little disappointed--he would never admit it, but Eddie could tell--that their tradition would be forsaken for Eddie's shift at the mall. But your addition into the Thanksgiving festivities had been a welcome one.

Eddie had extended the invitation weeks ago, when you mentioned you wouldn't be able to make it home to spend the holiday with your family thanks to work.

You, of course, promised to pull your weight--

"It's always really casual," he tried to ease your worries as you began to fret over what kind of dessert Wayne and Rick might like. "You don't even need to dress up. Come in your pajamas. Rick makes a really good pumpkin pie, and I have my mom's old scalloped potato recipe that will literally put you in a food coma."

"What about turkey?" you asked.

"We don't really do turkey." He shrugged. "There's only three of us. So we do different things every year. Rick usually catches some kind of fish if it's warm enough. Wayne has a good recipe for fried chicken. We were thinking of doing meatloaf..."

"I can do the meatloaf!" You perked up immediately.

--only to show up laden with a roasting pan for the meatloaf, a plastic-wrapped gravy boat full of some kind of mushroom gravy, a salad, and a casserole dish overflowing with green beans, cream-of-something soup, and heaps of french fried onions.

Eddie, of course, scolded you as you shuffled through to the kitchen, much like he had the first time you showed up for dinner at his place. But he also placed a soft peck on your lips, which earned him a bashful smile as you shoo'd him away.

That was a new development to your...friendship, if you could even call it that anymore. There really hadn't been time to discuss the logistics between the frenzied makeout session in his van outside of the Hideout this past Tuesday night and Thanksgiving dinner.

Now that he had been trapped at the cash wrap, ringing out ungrateful customers for the past 8 hours, he was almost loathing his past self for wanting to be a little discreet in front of Wayne and Rick. For not...making himself have the "what are we" conversation with you, because your lips had soothed every frazzled nerve he had the other night.

Knowing that at the end of the day that he wasn't going through it alone, that his girlfriend was also in the mall suffering through the mass chaos and that he could go upstairs and steal a kiss whenever he wanted...well it certainly would have done him a world of good to mentally prepare him for this.

For the entirety of his time working at Tape World, he thought he had been doing a pretty good job. Sure there were some hard days, some rude customers. But at the end of the day, an 8-hour shift was an 8-hour shift, and he was only selling tapes. Not...ending world hunger.

"Ah you say that now," Kyle told him on Wednesday as they were putting together cardboard "dump bins" for the discount tapes that would be placed every 10 feet in the store. "But Black Friday is a beast, and Christmas Eve is worse. You're honestly lucky you only work here and not at, like, Radio Shack or something. My buddy Todd has seen some shit.

"Actually, I'm almost regretting scheduling you as a mid but I needed a second key." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. "Peak Hours. Mid's a rough shift for Black Friday weekend."

"I'll be fine," Eddie scoffed. "I've done mid shifts before. I'm almost excited. How bad could it get?"

Famous. Last. Words.

He had barely been able to squeeze into the store when it was time for his shift, the line for the cash wrap blocked the way to the stockroom door. As soon as people saw his name tag, they started shouting at him to open the other register, how they needed help; he could barely get a word out to explain that he wasn't clocked in yet. They didn't care.

He was no longer Eddie Munson, Tape World Keyholder and your boyfriend, probably, maybe...

He was a body who could unlock the electronics case and ring them out.

He was a husk who said "welcome in" and "thanks have a great day" and smiled until his face started hurting.

And for the first time since he had gotten this job back at the beginning of summer...it really fucked with him.

His legs were cramped from standing at the Cash Wrap for so long, he wasn't sure which of the associates had his keys, his hair was damp with sweat even if he threw it into a some haphazard bun hours ago.

He'd been yelled at by more people than he could count, counted so much change the edges of his fingers were pretty much stained from all the muck and grime on everyone's money, and had made so many returns from people with buyer's remorse that he was sure they had given more money back than they had made in sales today.

Eddie hadn't even gotten a chance to take his lunch out in the mall and pay you a visit like he typically would. He had just collapsed in the little metal folding chair in the break area of the tiny stock room. Kyle had clapped him on the shoulder with a quick "good job kid" as he left for the day and Eddie hadn't even moved.

"Alright Ed," Paulie shuffled over as Eddie wrapped up the last in a long line of transactions and was about to wave the next customer over. "Quitting time."

Eddie sighed and backed against the counter as Paulie counted him down. The adrenaline of the day finally started to wear off as he came to realize that it was all over, and a weariness unlike the one he had been feeling his entire shift settled deep into his bones.

He went through the motions as he went back to the stockroom to grab his jacket and punch out. He wove his way through the still-crowded store and out into the mall, sighing in relief as the cooler mall air hit him.

It was gonna be a mercy once he got out to his van. He'd drive home with the windows down.

His ears rang as he headed towards the employee entrance and he wondered if it would be worth waiting in line at the Orange Julius before he left or if he should just stop through the McDonald's drive thru or something on his way home.

"Eddie."

But then, he didn't really need to stop for anything. There were leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner at home. He could smoke a little bit, make some kind of meatloaf sandwich, and then sink into his bed.

"Eddie."

And sleep until...

Fuck.

He was gonna have to do it all again tomorrow. And the day after that.

He thought back to his favorite fantasy heroes and wondered how they did it. How they put themselves through endless journeys, practically sacrificed themselves time and again.

And he could barely make it through a shift at the Starcourt Mall of all places.

"Eddie!"

He crashed right into your hands as you planted them on his shoulders and prevented him from absolutely barreling into you.

"Jesus are you ok?" you exclaimed and pulled him off to the side of the walkway to get out of the way of foot traffic.

Was he? Probably not.

"Yeah," he shook his head and answered. He finally looked at you, finally actually saw you. Dressed in your Teen Vogue best, as you called it, although a little worse for wear, if the eyeshadow smeared where it definitely shouldn't be and your jewelry all askew was any indicator. "Yeah I'm fine.

"You sure? You looked like you were in a trance," you explained. "I've been calling your name for a little while."

"Oh shit," he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, no...it's...It was just a long day."

You didn't hesitate. Your arms immediately wrapped around him and you pulled him in. Pulled him back from whatever precipice he was about to launch himself off of, and straight into the comfort of you.

---

Before long, Eddie found himself in your apartment, fully upside down with his legs propped against the wall as he enjoyed the Blizzard he'd picked up on the way.

"You know just cuz you can hold it upside down, doesn't mean you're supposed to eat it upside down," you laughed as you filled a pot with water and put it on the stove.

"And what are you, the Blizzard expert," Eddie scoffed. "If you'll recall I was the one who took you to Dairy Queen for the first time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes and turned to grab some cans from the cupboard.

You had offered to make dinner--again--while he vented about his shift. Nothing as spectacular as what you made for Thanksgiving dinner, but it left the leftover meatloaf for Wayne to take for his lunches.

"You're lucky I like your spaghetti sauce," Eddie grumbled, a little sad that he couldn't have his meatloaf sandwich.

So he talked as you ran to your bedroom to rid yourself of the remnants of who you became when you were at Starcourt, and as you emerged the person that, he liked to believe, was reserved especially for him.

He told you about the back to back returns he had dealt with when he came back from lunch as you dropped dried pasta into the boiling water and grated garlic into sizzling oil.

He complained about the man who demanded help from a manager only even though all he wanted was a special edition cassette deck that had all the bells and whistles and anyone with keys could help him. His voice got louder and meaner as he quoted the jackass verbatim, but the sharp strike of your wooden spoon against the side of the pot brought him back down to earth.

And as he finished up his story about having to count Sam's register three times because he forgot that there were large bills under the cash tray, you joined him on the couch with a bowl of steaming hot pasta for each of you.

He righted himself and discarded the empty blizzard cup on your coffee table.

"First Black Friday in the books," you announced and you passed the bowl to him. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Eddie groaned. "Seriously? It was a disaster."

"They always are," you explained sagely.

"You survived," he pointed out.

"So did you."

"Barely."

"So?" you asked and twirled noodles on your fork expertly. "Doesn't that count? This is, like...my 5th Black Friday? My 6th? I count each one as a victory. And so should you."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, then clinked plates with his in a salute, and then the two of you fell into contented silence as you ate.

As Eddie worked ravenously through the layers of starchy, cheesy, garlicky goodness, he realized that the weariness that had settled within him after his shift had started to alleviate. How he felt more like himself now that he was sitting next to you, basking in the warm glow of your company.

He briefly considered this ritual the two of you had been engaging in for months. The way you shared stories and foods and got closer to one another. He had always been a little worried that things would change if he ever got his wish, if this friendship with you ever became more.

But it was like nothing had changed at all.

He wanted to ask, was tempted to ask, what this was? If this was a date, like all the dates that weren't dates hadn't been before? If you were his girlfriend now?

But then...he recalled the time that you had a bad day and you immediately found relief in him, how he thought that he didn't need to be your knight as long as he could be your home.

And Eddie realized that whatever the two of you decided it would be, whether you were still just his friend, or if you were his girlfriend, or maybe...maybe something else...

You, too, would always be his home at the end of a long battle.

---

Next Part: Disaster Preparedness

Tag List for Store Manager Verse is still temporarily suspended. Thank you for understanding.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fluff

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bearhugsandshrugs · 2 months

Note

@houseofhopeofficial here. You said bottom gortash and I came running like you sounded the dinner bell. Maybe gortash trussed up like a turkey as a present for Tav? A reward for them for a job well done? Not sure who tied gort up, maybe got someone to do it for him or maybe bane took acception to something gortash did. Reward for Tav and punishment for gortash all in one. Very effective if you ask me XD

Sex and Power - Sub!Gortash x Tav

Oh hey @houseofhopeofficial I didn't forget this. I just needed a bit of inspiration. Bratty sub (and bottom) Gorty under the cut. If people want more of this, I might to a part 2. Let's see :)

Gortash/Tav, Explicit | Read on AO3 Rope bondage, boot worship, slapping, clit warming (inspired by this, that @tripleyeeet shared on discord the other day), oral sex (fem receiving), squirting, light dubcon

Gortash had always been a fool. His boundless ambition and his smug attitude had prevented him from seeing what was happening right under his nose: A rebellion, led by the Banites, displeased with his efforts in bringing the Hero of Baldur's Gate to heel.

They'd laced his drink with a sleeping agent, then moved him to a secluded oom in Wyrm's Rock fortress, naked and tied up, and invited Tav to dish out his punishment. Gortash barely had opened his eyes when Tav was already walking in, her ass swaying with amusement as she took in the scene unfolding in the room.

Gortash's hands were bound behind his back, he had been forced to his knees, and something held him in place, the constraints connecting to a beam on the ceiling. His cock was swinging heavily between his spread out legs, and the hair on his chest rose softly from a light, chill breeze that washed through the room from an opened window.

"Wow", Tav chuckled as she strolled up next to him, her eyes falling lazily over his entire body and back up to his face, "You must be an even worse leader than a Banite if this is what they're doing to you."

"I will enjoy hanging all of your corpses from the ceiling", Gortash grunted, but there was a slight waver in his voice that hinted at doubts beyond his pretenses.

"Cute", Tav smirked, unimpressed by his dramatics. She started pacing slowly in front of him, marveling at the rope work. "You know I've cleared my whole schedule for this. I kept thinking: What could I possibly do to teach Lord Enver Gortash a lesson?” She paused for dramatic effect, but Gortash just rolled his eyes. “And then, it hit me: Submission.”

“You’re mad if you think I’m going to submit to you”, he scoffed, but Tav held his gaze.

“Oh I think you will”, she said firmly, “And you will like it.”

There was a flicker of interest in his eyes in response to that, and it didn’t go unnoticed. But he wasn’t to give in to her yet. Not so easily.

“You’re a fool”, he huffed out, holding his head up high with pride, but Tav just smirked. When he followed her gaze down between his legs, he saw that his body was beginning to betray him; his cock half-hard between his thighs. Gortash groaned.

“And you’re a terrible liar”, she quipped back, loosened the end of the ropes that kept him upright, and then pressed her boot against his chest until he fell backwards, his core unable to withstand the continued and increased pressure. He landed on his tied back arms, his legs sprawled out to the sides, and shifted uncomfortably. “However, you do look good on your back.”

“Is all of this leading somewhere?”, Gortash spat out, trying unsuccessfully to sit up, but Tav kept her boot pressed down on his chest.

“I think a little gratitude is in order”, she sighed dramatically, “considering I am punishing you like this, and not by spilling your guts on the floor.”

He didn’t reply, so she brought the sole of her boot to his face, hovering it above his mouth. “Kiss it”, she demanded, watching his eyes widen in outrage, then narrow in disbelief.

“Fuck you”, Gortash grunted out, much to Tav’s amusement. She moved her foot away and pulled at the rope, lifting his body back up to his groans. He was like a doll to her. Tav walked over to tighten the bindings so he wouldn’t flop over, then made her way back to him.

The slap echoed so loudly through the vast halls that she was surprised at how much noise the flat smack against his skin could make. Gortash groaned involuntarily, opening his mouth to breathe, and that’s when she slapped him again. His cheek was burning red, and he moved his jaw stretching out his facial muscles in pain.

“Let’s try this again”, Tav said cheerfully, loosened the rope and watched him topple over to the side. She pushed against his body until he was lying flat on his back, then brought her boot back to his face.

“Kiss it”, she demanded. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips as he pursed them together, lifting his head so he could press them against the sole. “Now, was that so hard?”, Tav chuckled.

“You have the Archduke of Baldur’s Gate at your command and you’re playing games… weak”, he muttered, shaking his head. He sounded offended.

“Wrong”, Tav said flatly, taking off her boots, socks, and trousers until she stood above him in her shirt and panties. “You’re the one who’s weak. Not long until you’ll beg me for more.” She lowered herself down until she was sitting on the backs of her feet next to his shoulders and neck, then brought her core to his mouth, her clit brushing lightly against his nose. Gortash let out a muffled sound of protest, or maybe delight, but it didn’t matter to her. She let her weight fall back onto her feet and legs, gently resting her folds on his lips with his nose not able to do anything but breathe in her scent.

He felt good against her core. She wanted little more than to push her panties to the side and demand that his mouth devour her, but that wasn’t the game. No, Tav had planned something else. Something that would hopefully break away that first layer of pretense.

“What are you doing?”, Gortash asked, his lips moving against her cunt, brushing over the thin fabric. Tav didn’t reply. She sat there, patiently, indulging in the way his warm breath dampened the exposed parts of her skin.

It didn’t take long until she was wet, her juices slowly soaking into her underwear. Gortash could probably taste her already, but if he could, he didn’t say. Instead he was lying there, unmoving, still resisting, still stubborn. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and when Tav looked down she met his gaze, staring up at her in defiance.

And then he made a mistake.

He wetted his lips. His tongue brushed against her panties, and a soft groan escaped his throat. For a few moments neither of them dared to breathe, the tension between them a silent battle. One that he ultimately lost: His eyes fell closed as he pushed his tongue against the fabric covering her folds, tentatively, carefully at first, then more and more demanding. Gortash breathed in deeply as his lips pulled at the panties and her labia, and when he started to move his head, trying to push her underwear to the side for better access, Tav’s hips started to move in sync. He groaned, louder this time, and he looked like an animal waiting to tear at her with his mouth parted, half covered by her body.

Without saying a word she reached down, pulled the fabric to the left, then sank down on his mouth again that was already waiting to meet her. His tongue lapped broadly at her folds, licking long streaks over her wetness, circling her clit, and Tav moaned out when he nuzzled his face into her cunt. His nose was glistening when he pulled away to rearrange himself, and soon her juices smeared over his chin and mouth.

Gortash was good with his tongue, even better than he was at spinning lies. Tav felt her body climb higher and higher, her waist rolling into him greedier and greedier with each passing moment. Her hands flew up to cup her breasts through her shirt, and when Gortash glanced up, alerted by the shuffling fabric, he moaned into her folds. His deep voice vibrated against her clit, luring out a new set of pleasured sounds from her.

His tongue circled her clit with expert precision, having found exactly the rhythm that made her pant. A few more strokes…–

Tav came, gushing out spurts of wetness against his face as her cunt clenched around nothing, stimulated solely by his mouth on her folds. “Fuck”, Gortash groaned loudly when the first splashes hit his chin, and he licked her clean first before his tongue lapped at the skin around his mouth, gathering as much of her taste as he could.

“Fuck indeed”, Tav breathed out, feeling a bit dizzy as she lifted herself off of him. Standing up she pulled down her underwear, now completely wet and soaked, before taking in the way Gortash was lying on his back.

His legs had fallen open to the sides again, his balls swollen and resting heavily between his thighs while his cock stood fully erect, precum having leaked out of his slit already. Face flushed, his cheeks and throat looked damp, and sweat was glistening on his chest and temples.

“Good boy”, Tav praised, making her way over to pull him upright again by the ropes, and she heard him huff out a laugh in response. “Didn’t even need to tell you what to do.”

“If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask”, he grunted, rubbing his hands against what part of his tender arms he could find behind his back. “No need for all these dramatics.”

Tav laughed. “Oh Enver.” He raised an eyebrow at the use of his first name. “This isn’t about sex at all. Don’t you understand?”

She kneeled down in front of him so that she was on eye level, and cupped his face with both hands. He stared at her, still spiteful, still stubborn, but also intrigued. He wasn’t even half as good at hiding his emotions as he probably thought.

“Then what is this?”, he eventually took the bait.

Tav pressed her mouth onto his, pushing her tongue in to meet his in a deep and passionate kiss. She could taste herself on him, and her clit twitched thinking about the way he’d laid there, forced to taste her, forced to want her, until he had succumbed to his primal instincts.

Pulling away from him, she smirked. “My sweet boy”, she cooed, licking the outline of his lips. “This isn’t about sex. This is about power.”

#enver gortash #tavtash #gortash x tav #sub gortash #bg3 smut #my writing #drabbles

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joelswritingmistress · 4 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 29

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Tori and I met up on my lunch break the following afternoon. I filled her in about the mishap with James the night before and she visibly cringed.

“Ouch.” She made a face. “That was a bold way to shoot his shot.”

“I felt so bad,” I admitted, “I still feel bad.” I twirled a French fry in ketchup and popped it into my mouth.

“Did you tell Joel?”

I nodded. “The night before I had gotten a card that was left on my car with no name. I thought it was this creepy guy Trevor from class.”

“Who’s creepy Trevor?”

“He's just this brown noser type of guy. I saw him lurking behind the building one night when I left and then he, like, popped out of the library stacks at me out of the blue.”

“Red flag, red flag.” Tori made invisible check marks in the air with her finger. “What if he's the lady killer?” That's what the papers and news outlets had branded the person responsible for the two dead women.

“Lately, I think everyone is the lady killer.” I huffed a laugh and shook my head. I changed the subject. “Are you and Derek doing anything for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“We’re going to see an early movie and then going out for cocktails and some apps.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Where’s Mr. Gold Coins taking you?” She asked with a laugh as she forked a bite of chicken from her salad, “Paris?”

I laughed. “We’re going to a place called Lake Kora.”

“Where's that?”

I shrugged and reached for the second half of my turkey wrap and took a hearty bite.

“You didn't Google it?”

I shook my head and continued to chew.

“Do I have to teach you everything?” Tori eyed me and began typing away on her phone. “How do you spell it?”

“L-a-k-e,” I began, smirking at her as she flicked my hand.

“Smartass, I know how to spell ‘lake'. What about the second part?”

“K-o-r-a.”

Tori eyed her tiny screen and began flicking her finger until she seemed satisfied. “Hmm..”

“What?” I arched my neck and she turned her phone part way.

“Looks nice.” She scrolled through photos. “Is he going to put, like, rose petals all over the bed? Feed you chocolate covered strawberries?”

I nearly spit the bite of my sandwich out and the two of us began laughing, drawing looks from other customers in the little sandwich shop.

“Sorry,” Tori whispered with a hand up, still chuckling as she took a sip of her iced tea to compose herself.

“Maybe we can double date some time soon,” I suggested.

“I gotta get a feel for this guy,” she nodded in agreement and poked around through her lettuce in search of a crouton. “What's going on next weekend?”

“His sister is getting married. We’re going to Vermont for the long weekend.”

Tori raised her eyebrows. “Wow.”

I nodded. “I was nervous to go but I met her recently and we hit it off, so..” I shrugged.

My friend pointed her fork in my direction. “If this guy ends up breaking your heart, I'll break his neck.” Tori paused, “Well, I’ll get someone to do it because I probably wouldn't be able to.”

I have a closed-mouth smile. “I hope this is all what it seems; because I'm totally caught up.”

“I know you are.” She nodded, “I've never seen you like this.”

“I know.” I ate another French fry and sipped on my Diet Dr. Pepper. “It's a little scary.”

Tori gave a genuine smile. “I guess life should be about taking chances.. and following your heart.” She raised her styrofoam cup, “To the next step?”

I tapped my cup against hers. “To the next step.”

The ride to ‘up-upstate’ with Dr. Miller late that afternoon had me excited for the weekend ahead. We took the truck, loaded up with snacks and even stopped at a little hockey store to purchase two pairs of ice skates. I couldn’t wait to go ice skating. It had been so long since I’d been but I was sure I’d pick it up again - like second nature.

“Want a coffee?” Dr. Miller motioned to a little shop beside the hockey store, “Or hot chocolate?” He grinned and took my hand when I nodded. We wandered into the shop and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans hit me like a wave.

My eyes scanned a chalkboard with an endless array of choices. There were your typical French Vanilla flavors and Hazelnuts. And then the list trickled down to pistachio, white chocolate almond, blueberry and peppermint mocha.

“I’ll do a medium black coffee with a shot of espresso,” Dr. Miller ordered. “And a package of the chocolate covered espresso beans.”

When I spotted a banana mocha chocolate espresso, I was sold. Half hot chocolate, half coffee with the sweetness of the banana. Sign me up.

Dr. Miller smiled at me and gently squeezed the back of my neck as I ordered. I leaned into him and our hands found one another’s again after getting our orders and walking out.

“I can’t wait to get up there,” I told him when we got back in the car. I sipped my drink after giving the entrance to the cup a gentle blow and then set it in the cup holder. When Dr. Miller reached for my hand again, I squeezed his. I loved how he had to touch me at all times - whether holding my hand, squeezing my neck, or resting a hand on my knee as he drove.

He popped open the little bag of espresso beans and then reached over, prepared to place one in mouth.

I accepted, purposely sucking the pad of thumb for an extra second and Dr. Miller smiled at me. I almost giggled, thinking about Tori’s comment about the chocolate covered strawberries but I just grinned and looked out the window, relinking my hand with his.

Honestly, I didn't want the car ride to end. Until it did, and the A-frame lake house we would be staying in came into view.

Okay, I'm ready for the car ride to end.

The frozen lake stretched out, what looked like, for miles as he pulled down the long, rocky driveway.

Dr. Miller pulled the truck up beside the house and I got a glimpse of a hot tub on the front deck. He turned to glance at me and I couldn't help but smile.

“Come on.” He nodded his head toward the cabin and opened his door.

I eagerly trailed him up to the rental property. Neither of us bothered to grab our belongings yet. The sting of the cold weather felt refreshing on my cheeks on the short walk to the front door.

Dr. Miller punched a code into a little black box beside the door and a silver key popped out as the front of it opened.

“Do you own this house, too?” I had to ask, but he smiled and shook his head.

“I know as much about it as you do.” He slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, pulling me inside by the hand as he flipped on the main lights. It was like something from Pinterest or “hashtag cabin” on any number of social media outlets.

An oversized television sat above a stone fireplace to the right. A small collection of couches and chairs faced it, only split up by a shag throw rug. Above it hung a giant rustic chandelier. Overlooking the living room area was a loft that was accessible by a winding staircase and beneath the loft, straight ahead, was a cozy, modern kitchen with low ceilings.

“What do you think?” Dr. Miller put his hands on my shoulders from behind, and I reached up and placed one hand over his.

“I think we should stay here for a week.”

“Or two,” he added.

“Or two.” I nodded in agreement and looked over my shoulder at him. “Thank you. This is amazing.. again.”

“Let's get our bags.”

I followed him back to the car and he carried as much as he could, leaving me with just the ice skates that I set down on the couch in the living room area. We unloaded the little bit of food we’d brought up for the short stay and then towed the suitcases up the windy stairs to the lofty bedroom.

“Feel like some dusk ice skating?” Dr. Miller asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Is it safe?”

“I've been checking the weather all week,” he explained, “It's been in the teens and twenties.” Dr. Miller nodded, “There were some people out there when we drove up. Should be frozen solid.”

“Well, then, I can't wait.” My hands fell down into his and I bent at the hip to kiss him firmly on the lips. When I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him, working at the buckle of his belt, Dr. Miller looked down at me with a half, closed-mouth grin.

He sighed and arched his hips so I could shove his pants down to his ankles before closing his eyes as he stood back up. “Alright,” he agreed with a second deep breath.

“Unless you want to get right out onto the ice..” I teased.

Dr. Miller opened his eyes again and looked down at me. “It'll still be there in five minutes.”

“Five?” My hand wrapped around him now and I took him partway into my mouth. I guessed longer.

He groaned and smiled with his eyes closed. “Maybe three.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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