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#for hours and hours and hours. some of the others ask him how he is or what he's up to at school but they don't really reach him like kiryu
badjokesbyjeff · 14 hours
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I never told my wife I had an ex-fiancee 
One thing I never told my wife is that I had a fiancee before her. It’s a long story, so buckle up.
It was the year after I graduated college. I was dating my girlfriend, Stephanie, for a couple years and things were getting serious. At the time, I had my roommate, Joey, but he was a Craigslist roommate. We didn’t know each other very well. If you asked me how I knew him aside from Craigslist, the answer is I didn’t. He wouldn’t even tell me where he grew up.
Now, no shit, on the day I was going to propose, tragedy struck. I adorned our apartment with candles and even set up a nice glass display with framed pictures of me and Steph on top. Before Steph came in, Joey walked in and tripped. He actually shattered the glass display and got some in his face. Steph came in a few minutes later as I was on the phone with 911. Fortunately, Steph is a nurse, so she was able to patch him up as the three of us went to the hospital together.
Joey would recover, but he had some issues with glass on his face. He needed some cotton gauze inside his eye, which fortunately the doctors were able to save.
Clearly, I put off my proposal for the time being, but Steph and I agreed to get married. Our engagement was hush hush. Steph’s hours were wonky so she took care of Joey when I wasn’t around. And I should’ve seen the red flags, but I ignored them. They’d hang out together with and without me. They’d be in Joey’s room and lock the door.
One day, I came home and all of Joey’s stuff was gone. He moved out. Steph wrote a note. The note said, “We fell in love and we’re leaving together. Don’t try to find us.”
I didn’t listen and I searched, but true to the note, I couldn’t find them. I’ll never know what happened.
Suffice to say,
if it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I’d have been married a long time ago.
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?
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tender-rosiey · 16 hours
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plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾
robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna
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sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.
it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.
in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.
so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.
uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.
the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.
he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.
considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.
so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.
so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.
he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.
perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.
that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.
and no one knows about that door except—
“y/n.”
you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.
you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”
keyword: try.
he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”
he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”
your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.
you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.
sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”
he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.
you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.
and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?
he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”
you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, but he also wants to know what’s wrong.
if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.
his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.
“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.
“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.
he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—
—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”
he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.
so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”
after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”
you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”
“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”
a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”
you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.
you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”
a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from you husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.
sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”
“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”
he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.
you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”
you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”
he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”
you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”
“good,” he smirks.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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landosjpg · 3 days
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so high school | ln
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the one where you feel like a teenager in love.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: fluff, smut (MDNI, +18), public masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial
note: i’ve been listening to this song on repeat for almost a week now, it’s so catchy and the GTA lyrics made me laugh so i had to write something inspired by it. it’s short but i hope you enjoy :) not proofread
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being in love had never been as easy as it was with lando.
you had been in love before, sure, but your heart beat in a different rhythm whenever he was around.
you both had felt the spark between you the very first time you met. you could swear the sound of his laugh would always be your favorite song and something as simple as the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around every damn time.
“come on, tell me again!” your voice was high-pitched, it always was when you were with your boyfriend.
you heard lando let out a chuckle at your insistence, his body spread on the couch as you rested your head on his lap. his hand found yours, fingers entwining under the blanket that covered your body and you gave him a little squeeze, encouraging to tell you once more what you were asking.
“alright, alright,” he facetiously rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from your lips. “i thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”
you had heard his first impression on you about a thousand times before, but it always brought a smile to your face, being reminded of how enamored he was with you since the very first night.
“fuck, i could barely sleep that night because you wouldn’t leave my mind,” and you had felt the exact same thing.
you two had just clicked instantly, your friends surprised at the chemistry of the both of you.
despite of how crowded the club was that evening you met, it had felt like no one was around you. endless conversation and laughs that seemed to never cease lured you away from the presence of everyone else, and when his lips finally met yours hours later you felt your heart exploding. your bodies moulded together as if you were made to each other, smiles and soft giggles breaking the kiss every few seconds.
and wrapped in his arms you felt like you were sixteen again; and admittedly, no one had ever loved you quite like him before.
୨୧
for the almost eight months that you had been together, you and lando had always loved to invite your mutual friends over during the weekend. at the end of the day, they were the reason you two had met in the first place, and there weren’t enough words in the english language to just show how grateful you were.
every few saturdays all of you would reunite in your —his —living room, a few bottles of alcohol and snacks set on the tea table as you played some stupid drinking game. after that, you would just play the first movie that one of you could think of, lights off as everyone settled either on the couch or, most likely, on the floor, a little too tipsy to even bother getting comfortable.
that night it was american pie playing on the big screen as you cuddled into your boyfriend’s embrace under the soft blanket; it was chilly, the cool summer freeze making you need to cover the bare skin of your legs.
you softly sighed as your leaned your back to his chest as his arms circled around you; and then one of his hands was creeping under the blanket, fingers gently brushing the skin of your thighs.
you smiled at the comfort of his warmth, eyes fixed on the screen mindlessly.
but lando had had a little too much to drink that night, so his fingers slowly moved up, up, up, until they found the seam of your shorts. and the innocence of his previous touch was immediately thrown away the second you looked up to his face, eyes furrowed in confusion, just to meet his smirk.
“what are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, your thighs closing together as he tried to get closer to where he knew you wanted him.
and he shushed. that sly grin of his not leaving his lips.
you bit your lower lip and complied, legs slowly giving him access to your core as your eyes went back to the movie. with slow, teasing movements, he managed to push your shorts and your panties to the side, fingers finding the nub of your clit with ease. this was the most patient you had ever seen him, the tip of his digits slowly rubbing circles on you as he pretended to watch that stupid movie, not even looking at you.
your breath got heavier and unsteady as he touched you at a tauntingly pace, inaudible to everyone else thanks to the loud volume of the tv.
but when he slid his fingers down your folds, coating them in your slick before slowly pushing two of them into your hole, you couldn’t help a gasp from escaping your lips.
you felt your face heating up when the sound earned a look from some of your friends, and you tried your best to cover it with a chuckle. that scene better had been funny, you thought.
lando, however, seemed to find your situation hilarious. you looked up at his smile as he kept fucking his fingers into you slowly, and you could tell he was trying his best not to laugh.
as the seconds passed, stifling your sighs was getting harder and harder, your walls already clenching around your boyfriend’s digits. your fingers wrapped around his wrist, warning him that you were close, and that’s when he stopped.
the withdrawal of his fingers almost made you whine, and you shot a glance at him, this time, a disappointed one. he seemed to like how you responded, because his smile widened and he lowered his head to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
“later, baby. i want to hear those pretty sounds you make when you come,” he whispered into your ear before leaning back on the couch again, shamelessly cleaning his fingers on your thigh and leaving you craving his touch even more.
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dante-mightdie · 11 hours
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maybe in the middle of a shootout reader does something that automatically saves the 141 from death but 141 thinks that reader was being reckless and doesn't listen to orders so they neglect reader because reader disobeyed a direct order
please inject this angst into my veins i’m obsessed feed me more the worms are hungry
c/w: this is sad, angst, silent treatment, don’t ask me to make reader leave them I love the suffering
work stays at the door. that was a golden rule in your odd but stable relationship. even if you get pissed off with each other at work, you leave it at base until the next shift…
so apparently the boys must have fucking amnesia.
this wasn’t the first time you had angered them at work but like previously stated, it never followed you in through the front door, take its shoes off and hang its coat. never in the house
but this time you put not only your life at risk, but also civilian lives. just to save them. luckily, no one was hurt but you still disobeyed your captains orders. and just like you leave work at work, you leave your heart at home too
he was still your captain. actions have consequences so he yelled on about for a good hour whilst the others stood beside him, shaking their heads at you disapprovingly
so when you got home to find that they were clearly still in work mode judging from the way simon shrugged you off when you tried to hug him in the kitchen, stalking off to the shower and slamming the door
or from the way johnny and kyle just went straight into the garage to work out and blow off some steam, giving john a kiss and not you
and if that wasn’t enough, the way john turned his head away from you when you tried to kiss him had to be the damning evidence. his face was stone cold the entire time he was alone with you in the kitchen before he went and locked himself in the home office
it went on like that for a few days, waking up to find that they had gone out without you. conversations ceasing the moment you enter the room. the lack of affection was the worst. perhaps tied with the general loneliness. none of them had really said a word to you in days
not even when you grabbed a pillow and blanket and set up camp in the living room for the night after a week of the silent treatment
or when they heard you crying in the bathroom whilst getting ready for bed, wondering how long it will be before your lovers open their arms for you again, if they ever will…
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zyafics · 15 hours
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play fake | part eight
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.
You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.
Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 
"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.
"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"
Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.
Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.
"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."
You don't miss the grimace in his tone.
Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"
Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 
"You have nothing to wear."
You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.
There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.
"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."
He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."
"What time is it?"
"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."
He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.
"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."
You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.
"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."
"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."
He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.
"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"
You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.
"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.
“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 
"I could just buy them for you."
Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 
You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 
"But you'd rather steal?"
You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"
He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.
"I only remember you on my lap."
You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 
You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.
"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.
“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”
Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  
"Just for you, sweetheart."
Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.
"I have morning breath."
"We don't have to kiss."
"You have a meeting in less than an hour."
"We'll be quick."
With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"
He chuckles. "I know you now."
You're afraid he truly does.
Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."
Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 
"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."
It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.
His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 
"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.
"Rafe." You warn. "The time."
He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"
"You have a meeting soon."
"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."
Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.
"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.
When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"
You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."
"Yeah?"
You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.
Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."
Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."
You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 
"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."
While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 
"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"
She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.
You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.
When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.
Before you realize it's something much worse.
"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.
"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.
"What are you doing here?"
He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."
"I know I'm late—"
"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."
His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.
"I've been busy. Business been slow—"
"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"
With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.
When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"
He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."
He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."
Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.
"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"
He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"
You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."
"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"
You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."
"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"
"Aaron, I—"
"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."
You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."
Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.
With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.
"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."
He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."
You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."
Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.
You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.
You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.
The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.
That's when the real work begins.
Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.
Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.
Only to find a blond.
"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.
You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.
"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.
You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"
"I came home and you were gone."
That quiets you.
"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."
Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.
"Say something." He urges.
"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."
You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.
Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.
"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."
You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"
Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.
"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."
Your lips part. "What?"
Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.
Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.
It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.
When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.
"Please."
You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."
His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"
"Yes."
The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.
You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."
"I'll pay for that."
Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.
You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."
"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."
The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.
"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."
Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.
Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."
His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."
"Then make me regret it."
You're exactly what he needs.
Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.
Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
You pout. "I'm helping you."
"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 
You nod.
"I need words, sweetheart."
"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.
Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.
"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.
"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"
You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.
Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.
"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.
"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"
You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.
Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.
Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"
"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."
"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"
Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"
You nod, too disoriented to form words.
He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"
The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.
"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"
You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.
"Whatever you want." You confess.
Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.
You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.
"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."
He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 
"Do it. I'm ready."
Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"
He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 
The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"
You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."
He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head. "No."
Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.
"You're being such a good girl tonight."
The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.
He grits out. "Don't do that."
"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."
A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"
You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.
Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."
You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.
The lack of silence isn't enough for him.
Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.
He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.
A tit-for-tat. 
One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.
"No."
"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."
He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."
You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.
"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.
"Rafe–"
"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."
Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.
You had to give him something.
"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.
Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.
His command is low. "Say that again."
"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."
His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."
When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.
He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.
You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.
"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"
"Come here."
Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."
Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"
"Never of you."
You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"
"Ride me."
"What?"
"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."
You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.
"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."
"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.
You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.
His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."
Determination courses through you.
You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.
Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.
"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.
"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 
When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.
Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.
You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 
You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.
"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.
Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.
He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.
"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."
Your lips part. "What?"
"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."
You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"
He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."
You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."
Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."
Rafe says nothing, watching you.
His heart aches.
You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 
He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 
You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 
“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 
He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 
"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.
"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.
You don't.
"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."
And with that, you fell asleep.
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drudyslut · 9 hours
Text
Office Hours — R.C
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request: Hi!! Can you write like a CEO rafe and his wife who comes to visit him at the office and he fucks her on his desk where everybody can hear her moaning his name and then he walks out all smug, leaving for the day to continue pleasing his wife at home (from anon)
CW: CEO!Rafe, wife!reader, semi public sex(?), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, breeding kink. and i think that’s it.
likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated<3
note: CEO Rafe is so sexy to me, and this is an NYC AU, not in the OBX💞
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Rafe always loved when you came to visit him at work. Your husband had a very busy schedule, multiple meetings, business trips, and visiting location sites for new businesses he wanted to open up.
It was a rarity that you caught him in the office, alone and with some time to spare for you.
So when he called you today, asking you to come in to the office to see him, you jumped on the opportunity.
“Mrs. Cameron, he’s in his office waiting on you.”
You smile at Rafe’s assistant, nodding your head as you make your way down the long hallway of the building. Reaching the end of the hall, you stand in front of his office door, Rafe Cameron, CEO, is in big bold letters across the middle.
You push the door open, — not bothering to knock since he knows you’re coming — and find him sitting behind his desk, his office phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke sternly to whoever was on the other end.
He looks up, bright blue eyes finding yours as he smiles softly, “I gotta call you back.” he says to whoever was on the other end of the line, hanging up before they can even respond.
“Hi beautiful.” he says, smiling and standing from behind his desk, making his way toward you.
You smile widely, shutting the door behind you and meeting his steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and lifting on your toes to kiss his lips. “Hi handsome, I’ve missed you.”
Rafe melts against your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. His hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist, large hands gripping your ass firmly through your tight black leggings.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. “I’ve missed you baby, I promise, I’ll take some time off soon and we’ll go to the house in the Bahamas, spend some real time together, okay?”
You smile up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod your head in agreement. Rafe dips his head down, his lips finding yours again and slowly kissing you.
His tongue makes its way into your mouth again, brushing with yours as his hands begin roaming the expanse of your body. You moan softly into his mouth when his fingertips rub against your clothed thighs. It’d been a few days since you’d had your husband, and you were craving him, in more ways than one.
“Rafe, I need you.”
He smiles against your lips, backing the two of you up until your back hits a wall. He presses his hips into you, the feel of his already hard cock pressed against your clothed core making your breath catch in your throat.
“Yeah? My wife wanna be fucked in my office? Let everyone hear how good I make her feel?”
You suck in a sharp breath, mumbling a one word response, “Yes.”
His eyes darken and he places his hands on the underside of your ass, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to his desk, setting your ass down on the sleek wood surface. You watch him intently as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and leaving his broad, tanned chest and abdomen on display.
You reach out to run your fingers down his abs, but he slaps your hands away. “Nuh uh, baby. No touching.”
You frown, letting out a frustrated sigh that makes Rafe smirk. “You gonna be a fuckin’ brat? Huh? Just let me know, I can make you wait if that’s what you want..”
Your eyes go wide, shaking your head fast as you say, “No no no, ‘m sorry baby, I just… I need to feel you.”
He smirks, popping the button on his black dress slacks before working the zipper and shoving them down his legs, letting the material pool at his feet. Your eyes trail from his face down to his tight black boxer briefs, the hard, thick outline of his cock pressed firmly against the thin material.
“See something you want baby?” he teases, placing his right hand over his hard-on, squeezing himself lightly, a low, raspy groan escaping him.
Your thighs squeeze together, your eyes glued on his hard dick. “Yes. Want your cock, need to feel you stretch me, please.”
Rafe growls, taking one long step toward you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down your legs. He hisses in a breath when he sees you’d opted for no panties today.
“Fuck, you plan this? To come in here and seduce me during office hours?” 
You can’t contain the mischievous smirk that spreads across your lips. “Maybeeee.”
“Mhm, my wife is such a fucking slut. I love it.”
You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe slapping your cheek has you gasping instead. The sting from his hand has more arousal pooling between your legs, and you whine, your clit throbbing with need.
“Rafe, please. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, it’s been four days, I-”
Rafe shuts you up, his lips aggressively finding yours. He wraps his fingers into the back of your hair, pulling your head back to allow him better access to your mouth. His tongue finds yours, fighting for dominance while his free hand slides its way under your ass, lifting you up just enough so your soaked cunt is level with his hard dick.
He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling your lips from his as his darkened over eyes find yours. “Ready for me baby?”
You whimper out a small “yes” and he removes his hand from your hair, using the now free hand to grip his cock in his hands. He strokes himself softly, spitting down onto the base and spreading it around his length with his hand.
He scoots your ass further down the desk, running his swollen head through your arousal slick entrance before he slowly pushes into you. You hiss in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to push into you agonizingly slow.
“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”
A loud moan slips past your lips, the feel of his thick cock stretching you out making your brain short circuit.
“F-ffffuck, Rafe. Please move, need to- need to feel you move..”
A low growl rumbles in Rafe’s chest, and he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back inside of your warm, wet cunt. You gasp loudly, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into the soft skin of his back.
Rafe begins to roughly pound himself into you, his left hand under your ass and keeping you pressed into him while he right hands makes it’s way around your throat, squeezing hard and forcing your eyes on him.
“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a slut in my office, let all my employees hear you fucking scream for me?” He pauses, removing his right hand from your throat and smacking at your face again, a deep, red handprint left burning on your cheek. “Go on, fucking scream baby, let everyone in this goddamn place know who the fuck owns this sweet pussy.”
You’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your brain is so foggy from how good his cock feels buried deep inside you, how his filthy words and aggressive actions on your body turn you on even more. You can’t form a coherent response, and this only pushes Rafe to be meaner, and fuck you harder.
He slowly pulls himself from you, making you whine at how empty you feel without him filling you. His large hands grip at your hips, lifting your ass from the desk and flipping you so your stomach lay flat on the surface now. He slaps at your ass harshly, making you scream in pain and pleasure. “Answer me! Who the fuck is making you feel this good? Hmm? Who owns this fucking pussy, baby?”
He slams back into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips so he can pull you back to meet each of his thrusts.
Screaming his name, you answer his question. “You! You, Rafe. Feel so fucking good! You own my pussy, all for you!”
He slaps your ass again, a dark chuckle falling from him, “That’s right baby, I fucking own you and this sweet fucking pussy. Never forget that, aight?”
Tears fill your eyes, your pussy clenching tightly around your husband’s thick cock as he repeatedly pushes in and out of you at a fast and rough pace. “Y-yes sir. Never gonna forget it, fuck!”
The first few tears spill past your eyes as Rafe continues to brutally fuck himself into you from behind. Your walls clench around him tightly, strings of curses and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuck, Rafe. Ah ah, s’close baby, fuck!”
Rafe leans forward, the weight of his body on your back as his lips hungrily kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. “Go on baby, make a fucking mess on my cock and desk, let go f’me.”
That was all it took, Rafe kissing harshly at your neck and his permission to let go sent you tumbling over the edge, your pussy tightening once more as you came undone around him.
He fucks you through your high, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he curses under his breath. “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, make you a mama. You want that? Wanna have my babies?”
“Y-yes! P-please! Want your cum, Rafe! Wanna have all your babies, fuck, please please.”
Rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he pushes into you a few more times. You let out a loud moan when you feel his hot cum spill inside you, painting your inner walls white.
“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as his hips slow, burying himself to the hilt and stilling inside you.
Your body collapses onto the desk, the cool surface feeling good against your hot, sweat slick skin. You wince when Rafe pulls his softening cock from inside you, pulling up his boxers and slacks before grabbing his white button up off the floor.
You hear him disappear into his private bathroom that’s in his office, the sound of the sink turning on making you lift your head from the desk.
He walks behind you, gently laying your head back down as he brings the warm, wet hand towel between your legs and cleaning you up. Once finished, he tosses the damp towel to the side, pulling your leggings back up your legs and lifting you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting against his firm chest. “I’ve missed you, thank you for that.” you say softly.
Rafe dips his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your tangled hair before whispering, “You’re welcome, baby. ‘M yours for the rest of the day.”
You lift your head, brows furrowed in confusion when you hear his office door open, multiple sets of eyes on the two of you before they all avert their eyes to the ground. You hide your flushed face in his neck, not wanting the attention on you when you know everyone knows what just took place in your husbands office.
You hear Rafe speak, “Angie, forward all my calls for the rest of the day. I’m going home for the day, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
His assistant clears her throat awkwardly, letting out a quiet “Yes, Mr. Cameron.” before Rafe begins walking the two of you out of his work building and to his car.
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hotchfiles · 1 day
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— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner
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fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.
he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.
“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.
normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.
“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.
aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”
“answer the question, please.”
“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.
first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.
he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.
this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.
“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.
“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.
you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.
“that’s not what i said–”
“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”
“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.
“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”
he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”
“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”
lower blow.
hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.
your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.
his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.
damn you for choosing wine.
hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.
eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.
you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.
a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.
aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.
his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.
“just shut up and take your pants off.”
“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.
on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder
“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.
you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.
lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”
it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.
“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.
“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”
the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.
“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.
his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”
he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.
you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.
“aaron?”
“yes, sweetheart?”
“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”
“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”
“bite me.”
“gladly.”
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izzyreadingblog · 3 days
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I didn't knew love (till I found you) (1)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
tags: Angst / Internalized Homophobia/ Strangers to Friends to Lovers
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“What do you mean, you want me to buy the Soulmater? Do you know how much it costs?" Robert’s voice was tinged with disbelief.
Yes, of course you knew. The device cost was astronomical, but that paled in comparison to the turmoil churning inside yourself. You needed to be completely sure of your decision to marry your long time boyfriend Mark. It wasn’t just cold feet; it was a gnawing uncertainty that clawed at your heart and hasn't stopped worrying you for some time now.
“You can take the money from my share of the inheritance. I don't care about that Robert, but please help me with this, I’ve never asked you for anything before,” you implored, your eyes brimming with a mix of desperation and hope. You approached your brother and grasped his hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I need to know. I need to be sure about this, please Rob help me.”
Robert’s gaze softened at your words, but his words remained firm. “If you really need to know then that means Mark isn’t your soulmate. If he were, you wouldn’t be so consumed with doubt and worries.”
“I don’t know, it’s just that something has been feeling off for a time now…” you shook your head, a gesture of frustration and confusion, unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside you.
“Why don’t you go buy it yourself then? You’re old enough to make your own decisions; you don’t need to drag me into this, I don’t want to get involved.” He pulled away from your grasp and stood up, ready to leave the room and the weight of your request behind.
“I don’t want Mark to find out and you are the only person I trust to do this. Robert, please, do this for me. I promise never to ask you for anything else.” you mustered your most convincing expression, the one you knew your brother couldn’t resist. And just like that, you saw the familiar resignation in his eyes. Despite his protests, he would be always there for you no matter what.
“Okay I would do it, but this is the last crazy thing I do for you.” The both of you knew it was a lie, but it didn’t matter. You lunged forward, enveloping him in a hug, your smile radiating pure joy. “I’ll stop by after work and bring it to you tonight.”
“Thank you, thank you! I love you so much; you are the best brother in the world,” you exclaimed, your gratitude genuine and boundless.
Once Robert had left, a wave of anxiety washed over you. What if Mark wasn’t your soulmate? What if your true match was already married to someone else? Or what if he was single? Would you have the courage to introduce yourself as his soulmate, hoping for a fairy-tale ending?. Taking a deep breath, you tried to lower down the rising panic. There were too many questions and too many uncertainties, so you decided to scour the internet for stories of others who had used the Soulmater, seeking guidance for the myriad of potential outcomes that would come once you know the name of your soulmate.
The Soulmater, according to its creators, was an infallible computer algorithm that boasted a 100% success rate every time. The device itself was really simple: a screen where one entered their name and date of birth, and within moments, the name and birthdate of their soulmate appeared. It has a hefty price tag of $100,000 so it’s meant only for a few who had the means to try it, but those who did were unanimous in their praise. Upon meeting their soulmate, they were instantly certain the device had not failed. You found nothing but happy endings in the reviews, save for one heart-wrenching account of a man whose soulmate had passed away before they could meet. A chill ran down your spine, and instantly you regretted delving into these stories. Now, your doubts hadn’t been calmed, they had multiplied.
Your phone buzzed with a message from Mark: ‘Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you for half an hour!!!’
You had completely forgotten about the meeting you had planned with your boyfriend and your future mother-in-law to set the wedding date. ‘I had to take care of something important at home. I’ll be there in 10 minutes,’ you replied, your heart not in it.
When you arrived at the coffee shop, the sight of Mark sitting alone stirred a sense of nervousness. A tight knot formed in your stomach, the kind that no amount of rational thought could untangle.
“Hey baby, where's your mother?” you asked, planting a kiss on his cheek, trying to mask your concern with a casual greeting. The kiss was a mere formality, a gesture devoid of the affection it once carried.
“She left a while ago! you know my mom is too important a person for you to be wasting her time,” Mark replied, his tone laced with irritation. His words stung you, a verbal slap that echoed the growing distance that exists between the both of you.
But you didn't let those words stop you and unfazed, you countered, “Well, we can decide on the wedding date ourselves.” you signaled the waiter to bring her the same drink Mark had, seeking some semblance of normalcy. Cause normalcy was a facade, a thin veneer over the chaos of your inner thoughts and worries.
“There is no need for that, we've already decided,” Mark declared, his voice cutting through the hum of the coffee shop.
Confusion clouded your face. “What do you mean is already decided?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and apprehension.
“The date will be June 25, there’s nothing else to decide about that” he stated matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing the weather, not your future.
“But that's in less than a month!” Panic rose in your voice, a crescendo of fear and disbelief. It was too soon; you wouldn't have time to prepare everything. The words 'too soon' echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder of the rushed decisions that had led you here with little chance to change anything.
“Please, the only thing we need to do is show up on the wedding day. Leave the rest to my mother, she knows what she does and she is excellent at making events” he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. His indifference was a chasm that widened with every word he spoke.
You clenched your fists under the table, struggling to contain your frustration. “It's my wedding too, and I want a say in how it's going to be. I think I have the right to decide what I want for my wedding too.” Your voice was firm.
“Don't get upset. I'll ask my mom to involve you as much as possible. You can choose the venue, the catering, everything you want, my love. But the wedding will be on June 25. That's final.” His words were a gavel, pounding the final nail into the coffin of your hopes.
The coffee shop was a quaint little place, nestled in the heart of the city, its walls adorned with vintage posters and shelves lined with an assortment of colorful mugs. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating a cozy atmosphere that usually brought comfort to her. Today, however, the familiar setting did nothing to ease the turmoil within. As you sat across from Mark, your mind replayed the events leading up to this moment. You remembered the countless times you had walked through these doors, hand in hand with Mark, laughing and planning your future together. But now, as you gazed out of the window, watching the world go by, you felt a disconnection from those memories. They seemed like scenes from someone else’s life, not yours. Mark was talking, but his words were a distant hum in your ears, you watched his lips move, observed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and yet, you felt an inexplicable void. 
You thought about the Soulmater, that small, unassuming device that promised to unveil the mysteries of the heart. It was absurd, really, to place so much faith in a piece of technology. And yet, the possibility of discovering a connection so profound, so intrinsic, that it could be deemed a ‘soulmate,’ was too tantalizing to ignore. Your thoughts were interrupted by the waiter, who arrived with your drink, a caramel macchiato, the foam artfully swirled on top. You thanked him with a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. As you took a sip, the sweetness of the caramel was a stark contrast to the bitterness that lingered on your tongue from the conversation. Mark’s impatience was palpable. He checked his watch, tapped his foot, and sighed heavily, all signs that he was ready to move on from the coffee shop and from the topic at hand. You knew you should be present, should engage in the discussion about your impending nuptials, but your heart was elsewhere, lost in a sea of what-ifs and maybes. 
The coffee shop began to fill up, the lunchtime crowd bringing with it a buzz of activity. Couples sat at nearby tables, some in deep conversation, others comfortable in their silence. You envied them, envied their certainty and the ease with which they seemed to fit into each other’s lives. As the afternoon wore on, the sunlight shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. The change in light marked the passage of time, a reminder that life was moving forward, with or without your consent. You glanced at Mark again, trying to picture your future together, but the image was hazy, obscured by doubt. 
When the time came to leave, you followed Mark out of the coffee shop, the bell above the door jingling in their wake. The city streets were bustling, people rushing about their day, oblivious to the internal struggle that weighed heavily on your shoulders. Going back home was a blur, your mind preoccupied with the Soulmater and how a name can change her life upside down. As you approached your apartment, the sight of Robert’s car was a beacon of hope. You quickened your pace, eager to close the distance between you and the answers that lay within the small, silver package he had procured for you. 
“Did you get it?” you asked Robert, your voice trembling with anticipation.
“Yes, take it easy,” he reassured you, holding up the bag. “Let's go to your room.” His calmness was an anchor in the storm of your emotions.
Inside, Robert handed you the silver package. The Soulmater was smaller than you expected, fitting snugly in your palm. It was unassuming, yet it held the power to alter the course of your life. You hesitated before pressing the power button, your finger hovering over the decision that would unveil your heart's true desire.
The familiarity of your own space was a stark contrast to the chaos of your emotions. The walls held memories of laughter and tears, of dreams and plans made. It was here, in the sanctity of your room, that you would take the leap into the unknown. 
“What's wrong? Do you want me to leave you alone?” Robert asked, sensing your hesitation.
“No, it's just... I'm scared,” you admitted, meeting his understanding gaze. The fear was a tangible thing, a shadow that loomed over you.
“Whatever the result, it'll be okay. Remember, you can return it unused,” he reminded her. His words were a lifeline, a reminder that no matter the outcome, you had the power to choose your path. Robert’s presence was a steadying force, together, you both sat on the edge of your bed. With each passing second, the anticipation built, a crescendo of hope and fear that threatened to overwhelm you. 
And then, after putting her data on the device you pressed the button, and the world as you knew it shifted.
At that moment, you didn't need a Soulmater to tell you that Mark was not the one for you. The realization hit you like a wave, cold and unyielding. You had become complacent, accepting whatever life threw at you without protest. Your father's passing had been a wake-up call, prompting you to reassess your life and the choices you were making. It was this introspection that led you to go and try the Soulmater, and now, you are certainly using it was the right decision.
The screen scrolled, and after an agonizing wait that seemed like years but only was a couple minutes long, a name and date appeared: Alexia Putellas - 02/04/1994.
“Alexia Putellas? My soulmate is a woman?” you whispered, a mix of shock and curiosity in your voice. The revelation was a puzzle piece that didn't fit the picture you had of your life, yet it was undeniably yours.
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oddinary4bts · 2 days
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Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses
☆word count: 1.1k
☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.
They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.
“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.
“What?” he lets out.
“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.
“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”
Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.
But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.
“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”
Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”
“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?
“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.
“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”
“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”
Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.
So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.
Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.
His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.
Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.
Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 
You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.
It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.
His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.
Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.
You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.
“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.
Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.
You are… Taehyung’s sister.
You’re Y/n.
His best friend’s little sister.
The one thing Jungkook can’t have.
It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 
“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.
And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.
Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.
You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.
“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.
Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.
“Yes, please!”
Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.
Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.
“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”
And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.
“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.
How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 
He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
☆☆☆☆☆
Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!
What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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2kmps · 3 days
Text
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DARK POOL
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aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k
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story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.
story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.
if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!
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Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.
He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.
It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.
“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”
You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.
“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”
Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”
Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.
Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”
When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.
For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.
There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.
You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.
So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.
He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.
“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”
Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.
“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”
“No.”
He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.
You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.
He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.
“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”
With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.
There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.
He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.
The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.
It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.
So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.
His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.
“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.
Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.
“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”
The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.
“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.
You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.
“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”
He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.
It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.
His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.
You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”
There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.
Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.
He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.
“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.
He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.
“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”
"Just—just don't hurt me.”
His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.
Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.
Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.
You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.
After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.
“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”
You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.
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a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!
I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.
anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.
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nomazee · 2 days
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Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉
May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢
Take your time! ❤️❤️
this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 
Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 
“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 
“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 
“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 
“It’s ‘you and I.’”
“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 
Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 
“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 
“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 
“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 
In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 
You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 
“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 
“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 
He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 
“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 
“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 
“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 
“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes
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letsquestjess · 3 days
Text
One, Two, Throw (Hunter x F!Reader)
Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.
Word count: 1.5K
Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!
A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.
-- -- -- -- --
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“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”
“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.” 
With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.
You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant. 
“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.” 
Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff. 
“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”
“Seems like I’m getting worse.”
“You trust me, don’t you?” 
As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.
Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering. 
He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more. 
He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past. 
Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent. 
Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin. 
“Want to offer more tips?” you asked. 
He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.
“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured. 
“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.” 
“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?” 
As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.
Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.  
Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.
“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.
His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.
“Hunter,” you groaned. 
“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.” 
When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed. 
“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.” 
His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you. 
You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within. 
Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows. 
When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this. 
Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger. 
“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath. 
“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?” 
His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen. 
“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses. 
“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own. 
He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you. 
The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”
“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 
That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you. 
Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”
“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.” 
You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind. 
“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.” 
I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message.
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absurdthirst · 3 days
Text
Evidence of a Date {Tim Rockford x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 10.3k
Warnings: SEX POLLEN(ish), snuff films, power of suggestion, hypnosis, compulsory need to fuck, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral sex (male and female receiving)
Comments: Asked to assist Detective Rockford with finding evidence on a supposed snuff tape, you find it to be very different from what either one of you were expecting. Leading you to some surprising outcomes.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Tim Rockford MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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Getting called into the Captain’s office is never a good thing. No matter how clean you keep your nose or what rank you are, even as a Detective. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Knocking and opening the door, you are surprised to see Rockford sitting in a chair opposite the captain’s desk. 
“Come in, shut the door.” He waves you in and your stomach twists, wondering what the hell is going on. You’ve worked with Tim before, but not recently. You’ve been too busy with your own caseload. “I need you to do something for me.” Captain Carnell is a no bullshit man, a pragmatist who hated sitting behind a desk. “Tim’s got a video he needs to go through, evidence.” You frown slightly, unsure why that should have any impact on you. “It’s a snuff film, supposedly and the forensic team refuses to touch it.” He grumbles and you still don’t quite understand. 
Tim shuffles awkwardly. “I need to watch it. And I need another set of eyes.” Your head turns towards him. “You can keep your mouth shut, unlike 90% of the others around here.” It’s true, cops like to gossip and if it is a snuff film, the details need to be kept quiet while the investigation is ongoing. 
“I see. And that’s why you called me in?” You ask the captain. 
“Yes.” Carnell nods. “Tim asked if your cases could be transferred and you to help him on this, and I think it’s a good idea. That way there’s no talk of sexism if the case goes nowhere.” 
You nod. “Of course.” You agree, not sure if you’re dreading watching the video or spending all your time with Tim more. It’s hard working with someone that you are hopelessly attracted to and know that it’s unrequited. “I’ll move my cases over to Robertson and we can get on the case right away.”
Your captain nods, “excellent. After closing time, go to the break room. He’s secured the room so it will be just you two.” Tim nods, crossing his arms and you glance between the two men. “Go back to your paperwork. Half an hour…the office will be closed up after everyone heads out and you can get started.” 
You nod and Tim shuffles a little as he exits the office, holding the door open for you. “Thanks for helping with this. It’s - it could be the breakthrough we need and I know it’s gonna be hard to watch but I’m glad you’re helping me with it.” Tim says quietly as you stand in the hallway before you get to the bullpen.
“It’s okay.” You don’t know what to expect. Hopefully it’s not too gory, you have been to plenty of crime scenes, but you had hoped to go to a party tonight after work. Even if you stay late to work on the case, you could get there later. “We’ll watch the tape and then make any notes before we go back through it again.”
Tim nods, reaching out to squeeze your upper arm. He can’t help but think you look gorgeous today. Well, every day really but you’d never want him. He’s older. He’s divorced and has a ten year old son. He’s got baggage and you deserve the world. With a sigh, he makes his way back to his desk, eager to finish the work day to spend time with you. God, he’s pathetic. He’s desperate to spend time with you. Even if it means watching a snuff tape. The day seems to drag by and finally he sees his colleagues starting to pack up and he wipes his hands on his pants, glancing across the room to your desk.
Your cases have been passed off you and endured the grumbling, telling Robertson to talk to the captain if he had a problem with it. Finishing up some paperwork while you wait for everyone else to go home. “You leaving?” One of the other detectives comes by your desk on his way out. 
“No.” You shake your head and look down at your file. “Backlog of paperwork. Captain’s on my ass about it.” You know most of them have every intention of heading down to the bar for happy hour. “Drink a beer for me though, okay?”
Tim is asked the same thing except he got waggled eyebrows as most of them know about his crush on you…everyone except you apparently. He sighs and pushes back from his desk after everyone is gone. “You want a coffee before we get started? I’ve got…something to add if you want to take the edge off.” He says, pulling out a small flask as he looks at you.
“Detective Rockford.” You sound scandalized, but you grin as you pick up your coffee cup. “Absolutely.” You laugh as you start to walk towards the break room. “At least if we can’t go for happy hour, we can brace ourselves for what is to come.” You tell him, emptying out the sludge in the pot and setting it to make a fresh batch. Lord only knows how long you will end up staying. “So where did you get this tape from?”
Tim sits down and sets the flask down on the little coffee table in front of the sofa in the break room. He’s slept on the sofa before. Especially when he was trying to crack the case of the old woman who was murdered for her inheritance. It kept him up all night and he ended up sleeping in the office a few times while looking over the case. “I have an inside contact. He’s looking for immunity and he left me a copy of the tape. Some mafia bullshit…it’s heavy. Supposedly.” He tells you, watching you make the coffee.
“So don’t plan on wanting to eat, got it.” You frown, deciding it was a stupid idea to ask Tim if he wanted to go out to that little dinner down the road from your apartment anyway. You were work colleagues, not romantically linked. “As long as it’s not a kid, I’ll be fine.” You admit softly, looking up from where you are pouring sugar and creamer in your cup to get it ready for the coffee. “I hate when it’s kids. I can’t imagine how you feel, having your son.”
Tim shakes his head, rubbing his cheek. “That - any kid - it kills me. Wondering what I’d do…how id feel if someone - I think you’d be locking me up because I’d burn the fucking world if something happened to Billy.” Tim confesses and you come over to the sofa with your cup and a cup for him. “Thanks sweetheart.” He says, grabbing the remote. He doesn’t call you sweetheart in front of the other guys but you’ve always been close to his heart. “You ready?” He asks you, wanting to make sure you’re mentally prepared.
It’s almost embarrassing how much you enjoy when he calls you sweetheart, not taking offense to it at all. It’s almost like an endearment and you cherish it. “I’m ready.” You tell him after taking a deep breath, knowing you need to be professional.
He grabs the flask, pouring a generous amount of whiskey in each mug before he sets it down. “Just to take the edge off.” He says before he takes a sip and hits play on the tape. He’s tense beside you, waiting to see the gruesome scene unfold.
"I hope that we don't have to finish the flask and go find a bottle." You murmur as you immediately take a large sip of your doctored coffee. Enjoying the slight burn before a naked woman walks into the view of the camera. Obviously set up in some kind of bedroom. "Well, fuck." You hiss. "It's gonna be one of those snuff films."
Tim shifts awkwardly as the woman comes over to the camera, her tits swaying as she adjusts it before she steps back and a man appears behind her. “Yeah. I, uh, I wasn’t told that this was - yeah. Sorry.” He blushes slightly, knowing he’s secretly wondered what you look like naked more than enough times.
"It's okay." You take another sip of your coffee before you look over at Tim for a split second, eyes flying back to the tv. You watch as the man starts to massage the woman's tits. "It's not like I've never watched porn before." You tell him, wanting him to relax slightly. "Caucasian female, approximately mid to late twenties, brown hair, Caucasian male, mid forties, short blond hair." You observe. "It looks like there is a tattoo on his left bicep."
Tim had completely forgotten to take any notes, his mind shamefully thinking about you naked and him behind you palming your tits. He leans forward, clasping his hands together to force himself to pay attention. He watches the couple fondle each other and he feels guilty that you’re having to watch this. “I- I’m not sure if he’s the one that gets killed.” Tim says, paying attention as the man’s hand slides down to rub the clit of the woman.
"Most snuff films, it's the woman who's murdered." You huff quietly, biting your lip and frowning slightly when the screen flashes for a split second. "I-" you shake your head, afraid you might have just imagined it. The woman's moan hadn't stopped so you just continue to watch. Your cunt bottoms out when the man slaps her pussy and then starts to rub again, his other hand still toying with her right nipple. "He's left-handed?" You ask, not quite sure but it's a strong theory. "Most often men finger a woman with their dominant hand."
“This is supposed to be the tape of the victim.” Tim says, trying to work through the evidence despite his cock twitching, suddenly aroused and he puts that down to being close to you.
You hum and lean in, trying to pretend the foreplay in the video isn't erotic, or you aren't getting turned on. It's natural, that's what you are trying to convince yourself of. That your panties would be soaked already if you were just watching a normal porn, alone in your room where you could pretend your hand was Tim's. Clearing your throat, you swear you see the screen flash again, but the audio doesn't stop.
Tim swears he saw something flash on the screen but he doesn’t bother telling you. He is trying to conceal his rapidly hardening cock. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead and he wipes it with the back of his hand. “I - this isn’t a normal snuff tape.” He murmurs, confused as the man pushes his fingers into the woman, her moan echoing in the break room as the image flashes on screen again and he pays attention. “You see that?” He asks, curious if you’ve seen it.
You gasp, but you don't know if it's from the fact that Tim might have seen the same flashes you have, or from how warm you are getting. How your entire body seems to be lighting up, aching for someone, Tim, to touch you. "I- yes?" You almost ask as you try to keep from moaning quietly.
“What - What does it say?” He asks, wondering if you’ve seen it better than he did and he tugs on his tie, loosening it and undoing the top button. Suddenly overheated, he shifts his feet and his fingers flex as he smothers down the urge to touch you.
“I don’t know. It’s- it’s flashing too fast to read.” You know you should probably stop the tape and go back, but you can’t. “Is it- fuck, it’s hot in here, right?” You ask him, biting your lip when the woman cums on the tape, moaning softly as you wonder if Tim would finger you before he fucks you or if he would just shove his cock into your needy pussy.
“Yeah. It is.” Tim murmurs, suddenly boiling hot and he unbuttons a couple more buttons on his shirt, his tie pulled over his head to fling it down on the sofa. The man grabs the woman, dragging her to the bed and he wastes no time pushing into her, her moan echoing in the room and the screen flashes again. This time slower. The word ‘Fuck’ flashes again, and again. Tim is rock hard now, unable to tear his eyes away from the tv.
“It’s saying ‘Fuck’.” You breathe out, unsure why someone would cut that word into a snuff film. “Right?” Your cunt is throbbing and you squirm as you watch the couple fuck on the screen. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing regulated and you want to touch yourself, or have Tim touch you.
“Ye-yeah. That’s what I- shit. It’s so hot.” He says, unbuttoning another couple of buttons and he undoes the wrist buttons, rolling his sleeves up. ‘Fuck’ flashes up on the screen again and Tim grunts, unable to resist palming his cock through his pants. “So-sorry. I- shit. I’m so hard it hurts.” He confesses, “you should - you should go.” He says, trying to get you away from him before he breaks.
You snort, pressing your thighs together. “Of course you are. We are watching two attractive people have sex.” You reason. “And it’s been a long goddamn time since a man made me cum.
Tim frowns, turning his head for a second to look at you before he focuses on the screen again. “It has? How? You’re - Jesus. You’re gorgeous. I always thought you had a secret boyfriend or something and just didn’t tell us.” He admits as the man fucks the woman harder and the screen flashes again. ‘Fuck’ Flashes and almost burns in his retinas as he sees it when he blinks.
You squirm again, wanting to shove your hand into your panties and rub your clit. “No time to date.” You groan. “You know how it is. Long hours. Turbulent cases. I just- have a vibrator.” You hiss when the screen flashes again. “Fuck! Why does it keep telling me to fuck?” You cry.
Tim bites his lip, his gaze flicking between you and the screen. The man flips the woman over to push back inside of her, making her cry out. ‘Fuck’ flashes again and Tim shakes his head, “I don’t - shit - I can’t - I need to-” He surges forward to cup your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours as ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ repeats in his mind over and over again until he no longer controls himself.
It’s such a fucking relief to feel his lips against yours that you let out a small sob. Pulling him closer and pressing your entire body against his as ‘Fuck’ flashes in your mind again and again. Driven by some unseen force that is practically compelling you to touch the other detective. The need for him clawing under your skin like a drug.
His hands slide down to grab your waist, dragging you not his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth. The moans continue on the tv and the word ‘Fuck’ continues flashing in his mind. “Fuck.” He rasps out. “I- I can’t stop. Tell me to stop.” He managed to choke out despite grabbing your hips to drag you down on top of him.
“Don’t stop.” You gasp out, rolling your hips down shamelessly to grind against his hard cock. You don’t know why you need him inside you, but you desperately do. “Touch me, Tim.” You beg breathlessly. “Please baby.”
He can’t deny you. He helps you grind down on his cock, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits through your blouse. “I - shit - I need to - to be inside of you.” He tells you, reaching down to work on unbuttoning your pants and he pushes his hand inside to find you wet and ready for him.
"Fuck." You whimper at the first touch of his thick fingers against your clit. "Yes, need- fuck, I need your cock." You groan out, reaching down around his own hand in your pants to squeeze his cock through his. "Now Tim." You insist.
Tim groans when you squeeze him and he slides his fingers between your folds, groaning at how wet you are. “Fuck. I- stand up. Take your pants off.” He demands, working on his belt buckle and his cock is aching, he’s in pain. The word ‘Fuck’ keeps flashing on the screen as the moans continue to pour out of the tv speakers.
Scrambling to your feet, you nearly fall over in your haste to strip down. Pushing down your pants and kicking them off with your panties, your knees shake in need and you are panting like you've just finished a marathon. "Oh fuck." you turn back around and find Tim with his cock in his hand, pumping it furiously. "Oh shit, let me- I need-" You dive back onto his lap, eager to sink down on his thick, uncut cock.
He grabs your ass as you reach between you to grip his cock and he groans when you start to sink down onto him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” starts to echo on the tv but Tim isn’t paying attention, to obsessed with the way you are sinking onto his cock. You’re so wet and tight and he loses his ability to breathe as you settle into his cock.
The slightly intense, grim detective looks amazing as he moans for you. Feeling his cock scrub against your walls in the best way as he breaks you open. Making your mouth drop open and a loud moan of his name, your arms wrapped around his neck to keep you upright.
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiittt.” He hisses in delight, groaning your name as you start to rock on top of him and his hands slide up to work on the buttons of your shirt, wanting to feel every inch of you. The buttons become tiresome so he just rips your blouse, sending buttons flying across the room and he groans when he finally gets access to your tits, pulling them out of your bra so he can duck down and take a nipple into his mouth.
“Oh fuck!” You cry out when his mouth attacks your breasts. Never imagining he would be such a dominant lover. Tearing your shirt off has you clenching down around him and squeezing him tight in your walls. “More.” You beg, tangling your fingers into his hair and tugging on it, pressing him into your breast. “More, baby, fuck.”
He bites down, sucking on your tits, alternating as he groans into your flesh and you whimper, making his cock twitch inside of you. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck’ continues on the screen, the moans stopping from the couple as yours replace them, the words on the screen flashing constantly and Tim hisses as he grabs your ass, lifting you up to place you on the sofa so he can fuck into you.
“Oh fuck.” You whine when his cock slips out of you but the second he is driving back into you, your scream rings out. Scratching your nails down his shirt, you wish he was undressed. At least so you could feel his skin under your fingers.
He grunts, leaning down to kiss along your neck. “Imagined this so many fucking times.” He admits shamelessly, “imagined fucking you on my desk. In my bed. In here. In the captain's office. Imagined you a fuck ton. Shit. So tight. Knew you would be.” He rambles, his thrusts deep and slightly frantic as the mantra continues around you.
You moan, unable to believe that he would imagine fucking you. You have never thought he noticed you beyond working together. “Imagined how good you’d feel. How thick you would be.” You confess as he punches deep inside you. “Better that I could have imagined.”
Tim groans, spurred on by your words and the repeated mantra urging him on and he hisses your name as he pushes deep. “Wanna - wanna feel you cum.” He says, reaching down to rub your clit.
You shudder, clenching down around him and digging your nails into his shoulder as you lunge up to bite his chin. “Yes, fuck, fuck me harder.” You beg, driven by this invisible force.
He clenches his jaw, pushing deeper, harder, faster. Sweat beads on his forehead as he kneels on the sofa, lifting your thigh over his hip to get even deeper inside of you, his fingers rubbing your clit.
“Tim, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You choke out, feeling that familiar polling in the pit of your stomach. Except it’s better than using your toy at home. The nerves screaming in pleasure and you kiss every inch of skin you can reach.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” repeats over and over and Tim hisses as he rocks into you, trying to get you to cum. It’s like he needs you to cum like he needs to breathe. “That’s it. Shit. Gettin’ so wet on my cock. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He begs, his cock twitching as he gets closer to his own orgasm.
The harsh, jarring thrusts are everything you need and more. Pushing you closer every time his hips snap forward and if there was ever a question of Tim Rockford’s ability in bed, this answered it. “Gonna baby.” You squeal, not making any sense, but it doesn’t matter. Your orgasm crashes through you and all you can do is cry out wordlessly.
“Yesss. That’s it. Good girl.” Tim hisses as you clamp down around him and he swears he could fuck you all night long just to hear you cry out his name like that. He rocks you through it, his jaw clenching and he releases a deep groan as he buries his cock deep and cums inside of you, painting your walls.
You whine, loving the feeling of his hot cum filling you up. Panting as you try to catch your breath when he drops his head on your shoulder. “Fuck.”
“Fuck.” He echoes, his cock still hard inside of you. The mantra is still playing on the tv and it’s wiggled into Tim’s head, making him ache for more. “I need - wanna fuck you from behind.”
You are surprised that he can keep going, but you can’t deny that your body still aches for more. “Yessss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and biting your lip. “Fuck me again. Never stop fucking me.”
Tim groans, pulling out of you and his dark eyes focus on the cum dripping out of you and he watches you shift onto your knees. His fingers wrap around his cock as you position yourself until he’s notching himself at your entrance and pushes into you with a groan.
“Fuck!” You cry out, enjoying the sharp ping of pain when he pushes deep and his cock hits the back of your cervix from this angle. “Jesus how are you single with a dick like that?” You moan.
“The job.” He chuckles, grabbing your hips and he starts to push deep, setting another harsh pace. “Divorced. Father of one. Not exactly - exactly Prince Charming.” He says breathlessly as his cock hits hard against your cervix.
“Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, dropping your head down onto the back of the sofa and rocking your hips back. “Don’t- fuck, don’t stop.” You beg him, barely getting the words out as he slams into you over and over again.
“I can’t.” He says truthfully and he slams into you, over and over. Desperate to hear and feel you cum for him again. “Can’t fucking stop. You’re - shit - this pussy is - fuck. Never wanna pull out.”
Moaning softly, all you can do is clench around him while you take his cock over and over again. Feeling like he's in your guts every time he snaps his hips forward and you want him even deeper. "Don't." you pant over your shoulder. "Just fuck me forever."
Tim nods, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck as he pushes into you over and over again. “I will, baby. Oh I fucking will.” He promises and groans when you clench around him. The tv keeps flashing and he hears ‘Fuck’ in the back of his mind over and over. “Jesus Christ. Never wanna stop.”
Your eyes slip closed. 'Fuck' flashing in your mind over and over again. Like you are possessed by this need to fuck. You moan his name and push your hips back. Needing more. Needing him deeper inside you. It doesn't matter that you've always dreamed of having sex with him, you need more of it. You whine, biting your lip so hard that you almost feel your teeth break the skin. Humming in agreement as you push back more forcefully. Letting his hips slam against your ass hard enough to rock you forward and press your chest against the back of the sofa.
“Good girl. That’s it. Yes. Yes.” Tim grunts, loving how you are pushing back against him. “Keep going. Keep - fuck - need you to cum again.” He pleads, leaning over your body to kiss along your neck, his hand cupping your tit to squeeze and pinch the nipple.
Gasping at the pain, you reach down. Frantically rubbing your clit as he hammers into you from behind. Striking that perfect spot deep inside you. "Gonna cum!" you squeal seconds before you clench down around him.
“That’s it, baby. Cum. Cum. Shit - need you to-” He chokes when you clamp down on his cock and he groans when you soak him, his cock nearly trapped inside of you but he manages to move to work you through it and he’s so close. “Shit. Baby. I- I’m gonna - I gotta - fuuuuuuckkkk.” He growls as he cums for the second time, painting your walls.
Whimpering Tim's name, you relax into the sofa, feeling him coating the inside of your cunt in his seed. Closing your eyes and sighing at the feeling, a small smile on your face. "So good. Feels so good." You moan quietly.
Tim exhales shakily, turning his head to see the screen has gone gray and he pants, leaning in to kiss your neck before he slowly pulls out of you, his cock finally going soft. “Shit.” He hisses and shifts to sit down on the sofa.
You turn slightly, grabbing your ruined shirt to sit down so you don’t leak cum all over the sofa. Other officers use it too. “God.” You pant, flopping back and trying to catch your breath. “That was- holy shit.”
Tim’s chest heaves, the mantra finally leaving his mind and he leans against the sofa after tucking himself away. “I guess…I guess it’s not, uh, it’s not a snuff tape.” He chuckles breathlessly.
"No." You frown slightly, wondering why it was said to be a snuff film when you think you saw both people in the film, alive and exhausted. "I- it was so strange. I kept seeing the word 'Fuck' flash on the screen between the scenes. Did you?"
“Yeah. It’s like - it’s like it burned into my retinas and all I could think of was fucking you and Jesus…I - did you want me to - or have I just-?” He can’t even sound out his thoughts, too horrified at the thought of it being what it could be. 
"No!" Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. "I wanted you to." You promise, rushing to reassure him that it was something you had been very enthusiastic to experience. "I needed you too. It was like I had to have you or I was going to go crazy." You admit. "I thought I was pretty good at hiding my feelings."
The detective’s head swivels over to look at you. “You mean you- this wasn’t just the crazy hypnosis snuff video? You - Christ above, sweetheart. You have any fucking idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you…about being inside you…about loving you.” He adds softer than his prior exclamation.
You bite your lip, trying and failing not to grin at his confession. It seems like what could have been something troubling has turned out pretty fucking good. "So, I guess it was a good thing that you watched this with me rather than Robertson." You joke softly.
Tim’s eyes go wide as he turns to look at you, “thank the fucking Lord.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “That video…I don’t know what the fuck that was but we, uh, we gotta report it because this - it might not be so consensual for the next ones that get it and it could be dangerous.” He says, trying to focus on his job again instead of the way your lips look utterly kissable again.
"Who gave you this tape again?" You ask with a frown. "Why would they tell you it's a snuff film when it's.....obviously not?" It is concerning that it was given to a detective, and you wonder if it was meant to cause havoc in the department. Or the crime lab. "Normally this would be examined by the crime lab......not us."
“Yeah. The, uh, you know Greg? He gave it to me. Told me the crime lab didn’t have a working VHS so I’d have to watch it if I wanted to get the evidence from it.” He says and frowns, “he - he kinda knew I had a thing for you. Might’ve mentioned it when he noticed how pissed I’d get when the others talked about you behind your back.”
"Others talk about me?" You frown slightly, although you know shit talking is a part of being a cop. Especially a female detective in a male dominated field. "And Greg told you to watch this...with me?"
“They - they talk about your body. Your ass…what they wanna do to you. I- I try to shut them down. Say it’s disrespectful and yeah…he told me to get the captain to have you assigned to the case and I thought it was just to have your brains on the case…not - not this.” He gestures to the tv.
"Do you think Greg knew what was on the tape?" You ask quietly. reaching out and taking his hand and squeezing it gently for his kindness. For sticking up for you.
Tim looks down at your hands and shakes his head, “I don’t know babe. I- shit. I’m so sorry I put you in this situation. We gotta try and trace this tape back. We can’t let this shit get out.” He says, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.
"I know." You nod as you look over at where the tv is still displaying a gray screen. "Maybe we need to take the video out of the station." You hum. "You know how nosy all these assholes are."
Tim nods, “I can take it home. Hide it.” He says, squeezing your hand again. “And I- I wouldn’t mind going to dinner with you sometime.” He adds, staring at the gray screen as he anxiously awaits your answer.
"I don't think we are going to get much work done tonight." You admit. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving." You shrug. "I would say let's go to that dinner around the corner, but you ripped my shirt, so how about I make you dinner at my place?"
Tim nods, “how about I meet you at your place and I can pick up some Chinese food. Save you cooking.” He adds, “and then maybe we can talk about what happened when we are clear headed.”
"That sounds good." You agree, standing up and picking up your panties and pants after you tuck your boobs back into your bra. You wonder if he will blow you off, or if he wants to actually meet you at your place.
He knows your order from late nights in the station with everyone. He stands up, adjusting his shirt and he grabs his tie, shoving it into his pocket. “Sorry about your shirt. You, uh, want to use my jacket?” He offers, knowing you’ll want your decency when you leave.
"I've got an extra shirt in my desk drawer." You tell him with a grin. "For those all nighters." You know he understands that. Most detectives keep a complete change of clothes in a drawer just in case. "But help me hunt down the buttons?"
Tim nods, kneeling down and he blushes when he sees how far the buttons went. “I was - Jesus. That video made me feral.” He admits and picks up a few buttons. He hands them to you and when you stand there, he gently reaches up to cup your cheek, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to kiss you softly.
You've kissed, but it had been frantic and needy. This is so much more gentle. A real kiss that is not because of that video. "I- thank you." You murmur quietly.
“You deserved better than that for our first time.” He murmurs as he pulls back, “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises as he looks at you. “Lemme grab your shirt from your desk just in case.”
“I don’t know.” You admit as you pull your pants back on. “I think multiple orgasms and being fucked within an inch of my life was a great first time.” You laugh. “Although I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to suck your cock.”
Tim smirks, feeling confident now that you want him again and enjoyed earlier. “Don’t you worry baby. Maybe later…we can explore each other a little more.” He smirks and you giggle. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, walking over to the TV to eject the tape.
“That’s an amazingly suggestive tape.” You hum as you watch him analyze the tape like it might tell him its secrets. “Let’s go, Rockford.” You order with a smirk. “I’m starving and the captain authorized overtime, but I’d rather have our next viewing of the tape be in my bed.”
Tim’s eyes widen, “you wanna - I’d rather have you without watching the tape.” He tells you and you smirk, nodding, “that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He grins and follows you into the bullpen so you can collect your things. “You wanna come in my car or I can follow you?”
You smirk and shrug. "I might as well take my car." You tell him, "since I think that we won't be back in the office until next week." You wink at him. "Might cause some rumors if I leave it here."
Tim nods, willing to follow your lead and he grabs his things as you put the shirt on. “Come on, babe.” He says once you’re ready and he guides you out of the station to your car, glancing around to check out the surroundings like he always does.
You smile at the way that his hand rests on your hip. Protective and possessive. Waiting until you unlock the door to hold it open for you. "I'll meet you at my place?" You ask, glancing over at him. "You remember how to get there?"
He knows where you live, having dropped you off during late night stakeouts and ops. He waits until you’re in your car with the door locked before he makes his way over to his vehicle, quick to leave the parking lot and follow you to your house.
It's a bit nerve wracking, knowing Tim is following you. Excited in a way that you don't understand, you keep watching his car in your rearview mirror.
He grips the steering wheel, a little nervous actually to be going to your place if you are regretting sleeping with him. He calls up the Chinese restaurant to place your orders and he makes his way there. After picking up the food, he makes his way to your place and rings the doorbell with the food in hand.
In the spare time you had while Tim got the food, you had jumped into a quick shower. Bare feet and comfortable clothes are what greets him when he knocks on the door and you open it with a smile. "Hi." You greet him, waving him in. "Do you want a beer? Something stronger?"
Tim chuckles, “tempted to have something stronger but a beer will do. I don’t wanna be on anything around you. Especially after that fucking tape.” The tape is currently hidden in his glove box. “I wanna be sober around you.”
You nod in agreement and lean in to press your lips to his. "A beer it is." You hum, closing the door behind him and leading him into the kitchen. "I'll get the beers and some plates."
Tim checks your door is locked before he follows you into the kitchen, setting the bag of food down on your counter. “I haven’t been in here since you hosted that party after Samson closed that cold case.”
“Yeah, that’s been awhile.” You open the fridge and grab two beers to open before you turn back to him. “That  was right after you and your wife divorced.” You wince slightly. “I’m sorry about that. I know it was rough. I hated that you were under a lot of stress during that time.” 
Tom shakes his head as he takes the beer from your hand. “It was over a long time ago. We - we stayed together for our son and - shit. She really gave me hell.” He confesses, “anyway. I, uh, I guess I never really asked about your dating life. Never wanted to know if you had a boyfriend that I could be jealous of.
“No dating life, not when I wanted someone at work.” You confess. 
Tim's eyes widen as he absorbs your words before he chuckles, "you mean you were lusting after Jackson?" He teases, knowing the nearly retired old man is not the one you wanted. "I, uh, seriously though...I didn't know. I was a little busy eying you up without being a creepy asshole." He admits, licking his lips.
“You shouldn’t have worried about being creepy.” You smile softly. Despite the fact that you had been junior to him. It’s one of the reasons you respect him, he wouldn’t abuse his authority. Now both of you are equals, so there is no worry about improprieties. “Although now you can eye me up however you want.”
"Well that's good to know." His eyes slowly trail along your body, enjoying the fact that he can unashamedly admire you. "You're so fucking pretty, baby." He says after a moment, his fingers flexing around the beer bottle.
“Do you want to eat and talk, talk or just eat?” You ask, not sure what he wants to do. Despite the fucking that had happened at the station, you still want to touch him, but you know you can’t just act like a horny teenager.
"Let's talk and eat. You need to eat after how I - you know." He clears his throat and blushes a little. "I kinda - I kinda wanna touch you again but only if you want." He adds, suddenly nervous.
“I want to touch you too.” It’s endearing that he had fucked you so hard earlier and now he’s blushing. “If you want, of course.” You smirk slightly as you turn back to the cabinets to get the plates and silverware.
Tim’s eyes drop down to your ass as you get the plates. “Of course I want to.” He scoffs like you asked him a ridiculous question. “Baby, let’s sit down and eat. You need food after I - well, I’m starving.” He admits, taking out the containers after opening the bag.
You hum, dipping out some of the food onto plates and take them over to the small table while Tim carries the beers. “We do need to refill the tanks, so to speak.” You laugh. “I have to admit, I was shocked when you kept fucking me.”
“So was I!” Tim exclaims with wide eyes. “I ain’t eighteen anymore and I- shit - that kind of stamina…not my normal gig I gotta be honest. Usually I cum once and that’s it. I need a nap and a snack before I’m ready to go again.”
“A nap and a snack, huh?” You giggle at that, finding him too cute and you lean over to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m normally a ‘once and I’m good’ kind of girl too. But tonight?” You point to his sweet and sour chicken. “Eat your snack baby.”
He grins, liking the way you think and he must admit he’s eager to have you again. He grabs a plate to start serving up his food and he grabs his beer and follows you into the living room after you’ve grabbed your own plate. “You wanna watch something on RV?” You ask and Tim bites his lip, “maybe not the best considering the last thing we watched.”
You snort and nod, biting your lip as the two of you sit down. “So, where do you see this going?” You ask quietly. “Something serious? Causal? I wouldn’t blame you after the divorce.”
Tim sets his plate down on your coffee table, "honestly? I kinda want to date you. I want to take you out for dinner and see where this goes." He admits, "unless you want casual but...I'm not really a casual kind of guy."
“I don’t really like casual either.” You admit, turning towards him after setting your own plate down. “I would have put up with it for you.”
He's taken back at your confession and he smiles, "guess we both suck at casual. I was thinking about asking you out, you know? I just didn't want to be that creepy older guy that asks you on a date and makes it awkward at work when you said no."
“I would have said yes.” You promise, leaning in and touching his hand. “Tonight just….sped up the timeline.” You joke. “And will give us one hell of a first date story.”
Snorting, he nods as he takes a bite of orange chicken as he squeezes your hand with his free one. “Yeah. Maybe we can edit it a little bit.” He teases, “and hopefully you include the detail of me having a big cock.” He jokes, winking at you.
You giggle and your cunt clenches. “Don’t worry. That fact will be repeated with the high praise on how well you use that cock.” You promise. “Don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so well.”
Tim can’t help but grin with pride at your statement and he swears he will make you feel that way if you let him touch you again. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”
Both of you finish your meal, chatting about different things, different cases you had been working on. Setting your plate down with a content sigh, you drain the last drops of your beer and look over at Tim. “So, do you want to go back to my bedroom? We could take a nap, or….”
He watches you for a moment, “bedroom…I wanna touch you in a bed. I wanna have my mind be my own when I touch you next.” He says, reaching for your hand to pull you closer so he can lean in and press his lips to yours.
You can agree with that. As much as you needed him back at the station, you want to be in control. This time, your arms go around his neck because you want to keep the kiss going, slowly feeling his mouth out as it starts to deepen.
His tongue slides against yours and he groans into your mouth, loving how you feel as your fingers tangle in his hair. “Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth when you’re a little rougher but he loves it.
You love how his embrace is solid. The steady weight of him beside you makes you shift to straddle him. Settling back into his lap and pressing close, there’s not the urgency of before, but you are learning each other
His hands trail along your body, enjoying how you feel pressed against him, and the kisses are slow, passionate and he loves it. His hands slide down to squeeze your ass and he can’t resist slapping your cheeks before he grabs them again.
“Tim!” You gasp into his mouth and laugh, enjoying the smug smirk on his handsome face. Reaching up, you tangle your fingers back into his hair as you continue to make out. You know how he feels inside, but this is almost more intimate.
He kisses along your jaw, down your neck and bites gently over your pulse. “You’re so Goddamn beautiful. Inside and out. Why you want me, I’ll never know.” He confesses, knowing he’s fucked up but he’s gonna take this opportunity to be with you by the fucking horns and ride it as long as you want him.
“Because you are a good man.” You’ve seen plenty of men who pretend to be good but they are rotten at their core. Tim Rockford is honest, noble. “I want to take you to bed,” you confess softly. “Can you go again, or should we just cuddle?”
Tim nods, "I can go again." He is surprisingly half hard and he rocks up to grind against you, showing you he can be ready. "Let's go to your bedroom." He says, smacking your ass again and you stand up. He stands up after you and takes your outstretched hand as you guide him to your room.
In your bedroom, that’s where your personality shines. The bright, beautiful colors of your bedding and the natural light. The bookshelves are loaded down with novels and the slightly messy open closet door. “Sorry.” You move to close the door. “Didn’t think I would have company today when I left.”
Tim snorts, "this is nothing. You should see my place. It's chaos. My boy leaves his fucking legos on the floor and guess who steps on them in the middle of the night?" Tim asks you, eyebrows raised.
You giggle, imagining him cursing and stumbling over the blocks in the dark. “Ouch.” You wince sympathetically. “I know that hurts.”
"It does." He tells you with wide eyes, glancing around your room before he exhales softly and steps closer to you. He reaches up to cup your cheek, "I really do think you're beautiful." He murmurs, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Can I eat you out?" He asks, curious if you'll be happy for him to do that.
It’s your turn to be surprised by the request. “I- yes.” You sputter. “It’s- are you sure? You want to do that? I mean, I’m not complaining, but we- you came inside me.”
Tim snorts, “I put it there. I’m sure I can clean up my mess.” He says and smirks at you, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get naked. I wanna see all of you. Wanna taste every inch of you. Take my time.”
“It’ll be nice seeing you this time.” You admit with a grin, letting him pull your shirt over your head and reaching for the buttons of his collared shirt. “Never had a boyfriend who would go down on me after sex.” You admit with a giggle.
Tim lets you push his shirt off of his shoulders and he’s a little self conscious. He’s not toned. He’s strong but he’s not abs and no body fat. He likes his food and he doesn’t tend to have a lot of time to exercise. He flusters slightly when you run your fingers down his chest.
“Sexy,” you coo softly, wanting to touch and kiss every inch of him. You knew that you were attracted to Tim, but your cunt is dripping at the sight of his chest and he hasn’t even removed his pants yet. “So fucking sexy.”
“You are.” He hums with a smirk and he reaches for your bra, unclasping it to pull it down your arms before he flings it across the room. “Baby. Fuck. You’re so sexy.” He murmurs and reaches up to cup your tits, squeezing them. “Great tits.”
You laugh, amused at the awe-filled look on his face as he palms your tits. As if he can't believe that he is touching them. "You've got a great cock." You hum, reaching down and cupping him. "Feels good. I want to see how it feels in my mouth instead of my pussy."
Tim groans at your filthy words. "Shit baby. You - you are fucking incredible." He compliments you as he gropes your tits. "Wanna - wanna make you cum. How do you wanna cum?" He asks, curious and eager.
You whine, eyes closing at the feeling of his hands on your body and the promise in his words. Anything you want is yours it seems. “I want you to eat me out.” You admit breathlessly. If his head game is good, this man is the complete package.
"Fuck. Take your pants off." He demands, his cock aching in his pants and he decides to push them down after unbuckling his belt. His boxers soon follow after he kicks off his shoes while you strip down to nothing. "Shit. So fucking gorgeous. Lay down." He demands again, the edge in his voice is raspy but commanding.
You shiver, laying down and wondering why it’s so sexy that he is taking control. You watch him, greedy as your eyes roam over his nude body. “Come here.” You beg, wanting him to touch you.
He shifts to kneel on the bed, his hands trailing along your thighs until he's pushing your legs open so he can take in the sight of your cunt. "Fuck, I-" He can't say another word as he surges forward to bury his face in your cum slick folds.
Crying out, your hands tangle in his hair. Closing your eyes, you enjoy how eagerly his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s magical, breath stealing as he devours you. Making you so glad that you had invited him home.
He groans into your flesh, loving how you taste, and he hisses when you tug on his hair in a way that makes his cock twitch against your sheets. His fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps you spread open so he can devour you.
Tim isn’t proper when he is eating you out. He’s messy, ravenous. The sexy little grunts and sighs as he takes you apart with every flick of his tongue has you moaning his name, rolling your hips down to meet his eager tongue.
"Fuck. You taste-" He groans as he pulls back for a second before he surges forward to bury his face in your folds again. He loves the tangy taste of your arousal and the salt of his cum. He doesn't give a shit about tasting his own essence on your flesh and he laps at your clit.
“Tim, oh fuck, baby.” You moan, rolling your hips again and whimpering his name once more when he tightens his grip on you.
He shifts, letting go of your flesh so he can push two thick digits inside of you. Calloused from holding a pen all the damn time and he curls them before he resumes sucking on your clit like a candy.
“Shit.” You hiss, shuddering and your breath catching at the curl of his fingers deep inside of you. Pressing perfectly against that magical place that makes you squeal out his name when he presses again.
He groans your name, “that’s it baby. That’s it.” He mumbles into your cunt when your walls flutter around his fingers, pressing against that spot over and over again. “Cum for me.” He demands before he resumes sucking your clit.
It doesn’t take you long. Only a few more minutes before he is pulling you apart. Your nerves fraying and your entire body bursting with pleasure when you start to come apart. Crying out his name and flooding his mouth with your cum.
Tim eagerly laps up every drop. He pumps his fingers into you, loving how you moan and writhe under his mouth. He caresses your thigh as he works you through it until he feels you relax, practically melt into your mattress.
You whimper, letting go of his hair and trying to drag him up to you for a kiss. Desperate to give him the same kind of pleasure that he had just given you.
His lips meet yours and he slowly withdraws his fingers, enjoying the way you slide your tongue against his and his wet digits grip your thigh. “Wanna be inside of you again.” He murmurs between kisses he presses to your jaw, needing to hear you say you want him again.
“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You ask breathlessly. You’ve imagined it so many times but if he would rather fuck you, you are all for it. “I will always want you inside me.”
Tim bites his lip as you lay under him. “I kinda want you to suck my cock. Then I want to fuck you.” He decides and you giggle, pushing on his chest. He obediently shifts to lay down, his hard cock resting on his stomach and you move onto your knees.
“Fuck.” You whimper, wrapping your fingers around his cock and giving him a slow squeeze. “Imagined myself on my knees for you so many times.” You admit. “Even wondered if I could fit under your desk.” That makes you giggle again, imagine having his cock down your throat while he types up a report. “Now I get to taste you.” Lowering your head, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, tongue pressing against the bead of pre-cum.
“Oh fuck.” Tim hisses when you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock. “Baby. You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, unable to close his eyes, wanting to see every second of this and burn it into his memory.
You preen under his praise, taking him deeper and wanting to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had in his entire fucking life. Holding onto his hip while you take him down to the back of your throat and swallowing around him.
“Jesus.” Tim hisses as you swallow around him, your jaw almost unhinged as you take him deeper and your eyes are watering. “Fuck, sweetheart. Look so good.” He murmurs, reaching down to caress your cheek, enjoying the feel of his cock pressing against your cheek.
You hum, letting it vibrate through him with a grin. Enjoying the feeling of his hand on your cheek while you concentrate on not choking. You want to take him deeper, to wrap your lips around the base and you slide your fingers out from around the base to hold onto his hips.
“Oh oh oh shittt.” He hisses before he pants, his cock twitching down your throat as your nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Baby. Baby. Shit. You gotta - I can’t - it’s too much.” He admits and grabs the back of your neck, trying to pull you off of his length.
You lift off of him with a gasp of air. “You don’t want to-“ you bite your lip but Tim shakes his head. “Want to be inside you.” He reminds you, rolling your body under his again and your legs fall open to brace on either side of his hips.
He’s slower this time. Hovering over you, he reaches down to grip his cock and he positions himself at your entrance. He pushes into you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he braces his hand on the side of your head.
This time, he slides into you an inch at a time. Slow enough that you swear you feel his heartbeat fluttering against your pussy walls. Letting you moan softly and wrap your legs around his back, heels pressed into his tiny ass as you enjoy being split open by him again.
He exhales shakily once he’s fully inside of you. Groaning your name as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, cock twitching when you clench around him. “Gonna take our time. Want you to cum again for me.”
As frantic as the time in the station was, this is equally as slow. More like love making than anything else as Tim slowly pushes and drags his cock in and out of your walls. It's a good thing, since you are a little sore from earlier, but you wouldn't have him stop for anything in the world as you two kiss.
His lips press against yours over and over again, his weight shifting onto his forearms so he can press his body against yours. Your heels dig into his ass, pushing him impossibly deeper with every thrust into you and he swears he could stay like this forever.
You moan his name, holding him tight as you move with him. Wanting to be as close as you can get without crawling up inside his skin. “Fuck.” You whimper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he grinds down into you. It’s intense and totally consuming in the best possible way as he builds you back up.
"So fucking beautiful. So fucking smart. Too good for me. Too fucking good for me." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck while he rocks into you, his hand reaching back to lift your thigh higher so he can grind even deeper into you.
“Why?” You gasp out, unable to comprehend why he would think you’re too good for him. “Handsome, smart, sexy, capable.” You groan, clenching around him. “You’re a fucking catch.”
Tim chuckles against your neck. “I fucking - I got more baggage than a Goddamn airport, baby girl. I gotta - I have an ex wife and a son. It’s not - most women don’t wanna get involved in the drama.” He explains breathlessly as he rocks into you.
“No drama.” You moan, tightening your legs around him. “Mileage.” You tease playfully. Despite having an ex-wife, you know that he’s a good man, not a perfect one - but a good man. His son, well, he would be part of the deal and you couldn’t imagine thinking otherwise.
“Mileage.” He repeats with a chuckle. “Like an old corvette.” He jokes and slides his hands under you, getting even closer to you. His hips rock against yours a little faster, wanting to feel you cum around him.
“Classics are still fucking sexy.” You whimper when he hits deep inside you, striking the perfect angle. “There, fuck, right there Tim.” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulders.
He frowns, concentrating on that spot to make you cum. He pushes into you a little faster, not changing the angle of his hips and he watches your brow furrow and your mouth fall open. “Shit baby. Look so good.” He murmurs, “You gonna cum for me?”
“Yes!” You gasp, feeling the tension nearly snap the next time his hips rocket forward. Almost cumming right then. You just need one more thrust. Your body lurches when he pulls back, lifting up to meet him, and you squeal his name when he thrusts back into you, making stars erupt behind your eyes.
“Shit.” Tim hisses when you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. So tight.” He pants, loving how wet you feel around him as your nails dig into his back. He works you through it, slow and deep despite the vice grip on his cock, and he kisses slowly along your neck.
“So good.” You whimper, panting for breath as you come down from your high. “Want you to cum.” You murmur softly. “Fill me up again.”
Tim clenches his jaw, his pace picking up a little more as you tell him to cum. He pants, rocking into you harder and faster, practically folding your body in half as he seeks his own high until he chokes, his body coming to a halt as his cock twitches. His hot cum paints your walls and he hisses your name as he rides his orgasm.
He’s fucking gorgeous when he cums. His eyes are closed, jaw slack with pleasure as he pumps you full of cum. Groaning and twitching deep inside of you, making you moan again. “Fuck baby.” You coo, caressing his neck and cheek. “Amazing.”
He exhales heavily as he relaxes. His lips meet yours as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss is slow, his tongue caressing yours, and he enjoys being inside of you.
You let the kiss linger, not in any rush to pull away and you don’t drop your legs from around him until your breathing has calmed down.
Tim nudges his nose against yours, shifting onto his side with you while he's still inside of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. "So I should definitely take you on an actual date." He says, his dark eyes on you.
“Maybe.” You smile as you answer him, leaning up for another kiss. “Maybe a romantic crime scene. We can flirt over evidence markers.”
Tim chuckles, “we do that anyway. But I mean, an actual dinner. Wanna take you out. Wine and dine you. What do the kids say nowadays?” He teases, nudging his nose against yours. “Well, they say Netflix and Chill.” Tim snorts, “pretty sure we already did that. Snuff Tape and Fuck.” He jokes before his face gets serious, “dinner. Wanna treat you right.”
“That sounds good to me, detective.” You murmur with a smile. While you don’t know why the film came to be in your possession or who had made it, you’re sure that you’ll figure it out. After all, Tim Rockford is a legend on the police force, solving cases and in this case, putting this one to bed.
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disneyprincemuke · 3 days
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sick little games * op81
neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.
pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader
word count: 1.4k
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you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.
oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.
on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.
you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.
you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”
“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”
“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”
he blinks at you. “too soon.”
“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”
you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.
oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”
“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”
he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”
you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”
“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”
you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.
a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”
“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”
“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”
oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”
“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”
“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”
you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.
and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?
“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”
“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”
“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”
he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”
“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”
“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.
“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”
“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”
you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.
he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”
“oscar…”
insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”
you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”
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gen taglist: @33-81 @happy-nico @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @namgification @c-losur3
taglist: @lipringlrh @mess-is-my-aesthetic @vicurious28 @imsiriuslyreal @fionaschicken @pastryboyyy @spookystitchery @topgunmav1df1 @nixisracing @honethatty12 @bloodyymaryyy
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golden1u5t · 20 hours
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hollywood star | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ summary: you and spencer had been in the early stages of your relationship when lila archer came along(or her stalker to put it better). you already weren’t fond of her when she’d been giving spencer heart eyes the entire time but when gideon sent him to watch over her for the night, that really set you off. 
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did he really expect you to protest against gideons instructions for him to be lila's bodyguard for the day? not exactly but he did expect you to have some type of reaction, something other than a glance in his direction before excusing yourself from the room. a small part of him wanted you to make a big deal about it but he knew that's not the type of person you are.
spencer didnt see you again after you left the room but he did look for you before he left to go to lila's house, though you were nowhere to be found. while he stayed at her house for the night, watching over her like the good guy he is, you were at the precinct with the rest of the team trying to figure out the unsub. you weren't exactly liking the fact that he would be gone with another girl all night but then again there wasn't much you could do about it, especially since you and spencer had only been "seeing" each other for a few weeks.
it had been some hours since he left with lila and you and the team were taking a break to have dinner. you had already finished with your dinner so you stepped outside to call him before you had to get back to working.
"how's your girl?" you asked him, your voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. you lowered your head since the wind had started to blow a bit harder since you got out there and you didn't want it interfering with the sound of the phone call.
"she's not 'my girl' and she's doing fine, a little flustered but fine nonetheless." he mumbled into the phone. when he turned around his eyes landed on lila in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine. he had stepped outside to take your phone call so that she couldn't hear.
"of course she flustered, you should've seen how she was staring at you with heart eyes and now she's got you in her home for the night." you shook your head and let out a soft scoff, your lips turning down into a frown.
there was a pause on his end which had you lifting up and looking down the street, biting your lip as you thought that maybe you'd scared him away with how straightforward you were. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of his voice.
"you're jealous." he stated, you could hear the smile on his face through his voice and it had you letting out a breath of relief but still rolling your eyes. "i- i like that. you're cute when you're jealous."
now it was your turn to go silent for a brief second, you could feel your skin start to heat up despite the harsh blow of the wind against your skin. "im not jealous."
"you totally are." you could hear spencer laugh for a second and then lila's voice calling his name, the smile you once sported dropping almost immediately.
you didn't particularly like lila even if she hadn't really done anything to you except like spencer, but in reality that was enough for you to dislike any woman.
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169 notes · View notes
j-u-u-z-o · 3 days
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“You Wish That Was You, Huh.” Atsumu x F.Reader NSFW‼️ 18+
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AN: Okay here’s another Atsumu scenario! I can’t get enough of him lol. I had A LOT of fun writing this piece and I hope you all enjoy it! It’s long but it’s worth reading. Trust me, you’ll love it all the way to the end! 🤣👏🏾 This was inspired from a “Jersey Shore” S2 episode. I had to write this one!
Synopsis: Atsumu makes a surprise visit to your college campus before his next flight and your roommate(best friend!) wants to kill him just for being…HIM 😒. How will this turn out?
WARNING: atsumu being atsumu, sly fox, clingy couple (mostly atsumu), third-wheeling, cock-blocking (yes lol), making out, snuggling, fingering, smut, squirting, kissing, interesting ending to a story lol. GRAMMAR
Reference: “the roommate” is reader’s BFF. So, please note that “your roommate” or “your best friend” mentioned in the story is reader’s best friend. (I don’t want to confuse you!) ^^
Take your time reading due to pacing and dive into the story! It’s gonna be very interesting. 😊❤️
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8:10PM
“Alright let’s wrap up, class! The professor announced. “Let’s quickly finish working on this tomorrow and then we’ll start reviewing for the exam.” He turned off the projector. “And..oh! Don’t forget that your midterm exam will be this Friday!” He reminded the students in the lecture hall. He started packing up his stuff and the students did the same too.
The sounds of the chair seats automatically going up and the shuffling of students leaving the lecture hall filled the air. You and your roommate started packing up. “Oh my god... My hand hurts so bad. Your roommate complained as she closed her messy binder and puts it in her backpack. “Mm. Mine too.” You hummed, putting your pens in your pink pencil case. The two of you had the most extensive lecture about physics. You took note of everything because your professor randomly decided to add a new topic to your midterm exam. Your roommate who’s also your best friend since high school, grunted in frustration as she shoved the binder into her bag. You snorted at her. “I know, I know.” You sympathized with her, resting your cheek on your knuckles while you waited for her. After you two packed up, you got up from your seats and walked out the lecture hall. “It’ll be worth it though. His exams are…kinda easy.” You said. “Yeah. sure.” She rolled her eyes. You nudged her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You have me. Plus, we always sit next to each other.” You smiled at the pouting girl. She hummed in agreement, feeling lucky that she’s still best friends with you.
A mix of conversations echoed through the crowded hallway while the two of you were headed out to the Girls Dormitory. “Sooo, what are the plans for the rest of the evening?” She asked with excitement, as if she wasn’t just in pain earlier. You disregard the fact and thought about her question. “Mmmm.” You wondered, tapping your chin with your finger. “We could play Animal Crossing on our Switch or maybe…play family feud?” You looked at her and she nodded at the fun ideas as you continued to think. “And then…we can catch up on some episodes of “Love is Blind”? Her eyes shined bright with excitement when you mentioned that show and you giggled, while the two of you walked out of the school building and strolled to the other side of the campus — the dorms.
As you two giggled about how the week has been going. You boyfriend, Atsumu, was lying in your bed. He was scrolling through TikTok while he waited for you. He came back from a volleyball tournament in Tokyo — which his team won a few hours ago. He decided to make a surprise visit to come see you since he has enough time before he leaves to go to Spain, tomorrow morning. As you walked in the dorm hallway, your bodies suddenly started to feel lazy. “You know what…” she randomly announced. “Let’s just catch up on the episodes instead.” You giggled at the change of plans. “Yeah. Let’s take a shower first.” You took out your dorm key card. He heard the sound of the knob turn and he immediately prepared himself to surprise you. You let out a tired sigh when you opened the door and walked in. Your roommate turned on the light behind you.
“Hey baby.”
You froze with a frown on your face. You lifted your head up and saw a young man with blonde hair, wearing a MSBY sweatsuit, sitting on the edge of your bed, smiling at you. Your eyes widened at the familiar face and you shouted, “Tsumu~!♡” You dropped your bag on the floor and ran to your boyfriend. You jumped to hug him and his back fell on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Hey baby~.” He chuckled, greeting you again while you happily whined above him. You haven’t seen each other in over two months. You two have been face-timing and each other everyday. But, It’s been hard for you two. Especially for him because he’s known for being clingy. Only to you, though. As you two squeezed each other lovingly, she stared back in disgust at the doorway. at him. She didn’t expect the blonde to come at all. She rolled her eyes and moved both your bags to the side and walked to her side of the room.
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After a while, You and atsumu were still “greeting” each other. Saying how much you miss and love each other while being in each other’s embrace. She almost wanted to vomit as she sat in her bed. She has a long history of disliking your boyfriend for so many reasons. Like, how he’s a cocky, annoying, and clingy asswhole, she mentally noted. Her eye twitched in horror when she started hearing a pair of lips slowly smacking against each other, lovingly.
Oh no.
Her eyes widened in horror. She can’t let this go on. “Hey, Y/N.” She said boldly from across the room that it interrupted your little make-out session. You broke the kiss. “Hm?” You looked back at her and atsumu rolled his eyes. “Let’s watch the show that we wanted to catch up on. Remember?” She whined with a fake pout on her face “Oh…right.” You slowly crawled off of him. He sucked his teeth. Luckily, you didn’t hear it as you walked to turn on the TV. He stared at the ceiling in annoyance when you left him to go sit next to your best friend on her bed. you two searched for the episodes you missed. After a few minutes, a long sigh from him caught your attention. He did it on purpose, though. Unbeknownst to you. You turned to see the blonde lying on his side — facing the wall as he scrolled on his phone. He looks so bored, you thought.
You got up and walked towards your bed. You didn’t see her, but your best friend shook her head in disbelief when you got off her bed. You slowly crawled up to your bed and laid down bed in front of him. “I missed you~” He immediately dropped his phone and smiled at you softly. Instantly giving all of his attention to you, again. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him and started leaving soft wet pecks on your shoulder. “You okay, tsum?” You brushed his shoulder with your fingertips. “Now, I am.” He said almost loudly and you went back to watching the dating show from your side of the room.
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“What time is your flight tomorrow morning?” You looked at the blonde lying beside you. “At 11AM. Gotta leave early ta’ get to the airport.” You pouted — you didn’t want to him leave you again. “Where is the game going to be at?” You looked down on the bed — away from his brown orbs, sadly. He knows how you’re feeling. “Spain.” He brushed your back from underneath your tank top, gently. His fingers played with the clasp of your bra. “But I should be coming back soon though. Cuz’ we’re gonna have press conferences and shit.” You hummed as he spoke. “Plus ya have spring break coming up. so we’re def gonna be doing lots of things.” He cheered you up. You looked up at him and he saw the familiar light in your eyes that makes him smile. “Don’ worry. it’ll be all over before ya know it.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb and leaned forward to kiss your lips, gently. You hummed in agreement and smiled softly.
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A few moments passed and the sounds of whispers of sweet nothings and giggles filled her ears from the other side of the room. You were trying to watch the show and comment on odd moments that happened but you couldn’t. He was leaving soft kisses on your neck. Especially on your favorite spot that always makes you flutter. You tried to gently push him away but Atsumu pulled you closer and chuckled at your failed attempts. He knows you don’t want to stop him; proof from your cute giggles. He slid his hand down to the bottom of your shorts from underneath and kneaded the back of your thighs lovingly as he did. “W-wait!” You gasped in a whisper, pulling his hand up to your waist. But, he moved it down to where it was, on purpose. “T-Tsumu!” You whispered lowly, giggling. His hand felt so warm and comfy against your skin. But you’re being mindful of your best friend who lives in the same room as you. At one point, he was getting a little too handsy. As his lips wrapped around yours gently, he slid his hand up your shorts and grabbed a cheek. “O-oh my god.” You broke the kiss. “Tsumu~!” You whined playfully, quickly sitting up to go back to your friend. But, he pushed you down and chuckled. You giggled when your back met the bed. Her eyes twitched at the sounds coming from the other side of the room. He slid his hand under your shirt. “Ah!” you squeaked, his hand burning your skin, lovingly. “W-wait…” you sat up, pretending to look for something. “l-lemme just — ah!” You squeaked when he pushed you down again and you giggled in defeat. He smirked and leaned over and pulled you closer to his side. “Ya’ not goin’ anywhere~.” He said playfully, caressing your side. “Tsum-“ He leaned forward to kiss you your soft lips, cutting you off. “Mmm~.” You kept giggling at the blonde while you moaned in between his playful kisses.
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You had long forgotten about watching the show as you were hiding under the blanket with him; kissing each other softly while he rubbed your side. Of course, the lip smacking sounds didn’t go unnoticed. Eventually, your friend randomly ripped her eyes from the tv screen and her heart sunk when she saw his hand peeking out from under the blanket— dropping your bra on the floor. “Gotta free ‘em ya know?” He said offhandedly, kneading your plump breast and going back to kissing your soft lips. You moaned in agreement as he massaged your tit. She couldn’t unsee the act and shook her head at his audacity. She knew he said that on purpose.
Bastard.
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You both kissed each other slowly and lovingly under the covers. You cupped his left cheek — keeping him close to you. She couldn’t hear the sounds from you two clearly; realizing that you were successful in keeping him from making any more noise. He gently broke away from the kiss and threw the covers over so that he can take off his black t-shirt. She saw the act from the corner of her eye. “That’s better.” He muttered after throwing it on the floor. He turned back to you and you brushed your hand on his abs as he lifted the covers over his head. He gave you quick kiss on your lips and leaned down and pulled your tank top down and eyed your tits. Your cheeks started to feel hot when he started massaging the flesh. “Mm.” You bit your bottom lip and lifted up the blanket to cover your chest when he began licking your nipple. You shivered as he did and gently scratched the back of his head to keep going. A satisfied groan left your lips when he circled your perky nipple, slowly. “Mmm.” You twitched, feeling the warm muscle fondle it. His eyes were shut as he licked it and then he gently sucked it. His lips felt so warm around your hard nipple. You watched how focused he looked— latching onto it like he was kissing you, lovingly. A satisfied sigh left your lips and you leaned forward to feel more of his crafty tongue. Your roommate heard your soft moans and looked at the mirror that was hanging on the bathroom door next to the tv stand. She could see you lying in bed, looking down at the blonde lovingly while his head was bobbing slowly. He was seemingly pleasing you. She saw you scratching his undercut, gently. He applied more pressure on latching your nipple and then flicked it gently. He looked up at you and saw you in bliss. He smiled as he did and kissed your nipple — earning him a soft kiss on his forehead. “Unh~” The feathery grazes on your nipple made you shiver at the pleasure. It felt so good that you hooked your right leg over his side and rested it there. “Mm.” You planted another soft kiss on his forehead. Your pussy was throbbing at the fluttering sensations. His exhales brushed your skin as did and he stroked your leg and then slid it up to knead your ass and —
Smack!
“Hey! Be nice!” You hissed loudly, blushing incredibly hard and pulled his hand up to your waist as punishment. He was doing so well up until he chose to be an idiot. He chuckled. He did that on purpose. Again. Your roommate rolled her eyes at the fact as she stared at the tv screen. He pulled you over him to get you to straddle him. “Don’t do that. That was rude.” You muttered, poking your fingers on both of his cheeks. “ a’ didn’t do anythin’ , baby~” He puckered his lips like a fish and you giggled. “Tsum-.” “I’ll try.” He cuts you off, caressing your ass. You gave him a blank look on your face, unconvinced. “What~? Only for you, baby~.” He smirked and lifted his head to kiss your soft lips. “Now, Lay down on me~” he whined playfully, pulling you down on his chest.
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The sounds of heavy exhales coming from his nose rang in your friend’s ears. She didn’t rip her eye away from the screen until a deep gutteral moan came out from the blonde. She snapped her head and saw your bodies hidden under the blanket, moving around slowly and she quickly looked away in annoyance and blushed. I can’t believe I’m Involuntarily third wheeling; it came down to the fact. You were grinding on his bulge roughly but steadily as he bucked his hips up to meet your sweet warmth. “Awh…yeah.” He muttered lowly, his hands bouncing on your ass. “Mmm.” You stammered lowly, cupping his cheeks to keep him focused on you while your pebbled nipples rubbed against his chest. You circled your ass around his cock — hidden under his sweat pants and rolled your hips up in a wave like motion. “Yeah, baby.” He whispered, biting his lip as he looked up at you, trying to keep his moans from coming out loudly, as he was getting too hard. His dark brown orbs pierced your eyes — making you bounce your ass on him, loving. “Ahhh.” He breathed lowly, hissing at the sensation. He gripped your thighs from behind and pushed his feet in and started thrusting up your clothed warmth with good measure. Your bed started squeaking. Your pants rang in his ear as he did, feeling his erect cock poking your clothed pussy, persistently.
Your pussy was throbbing excitedly from his ministrations that you suddenly rolled over off of him and laid on your side. “Hm?” He whined, at your sudden “departure”. You can’t do this. Not when your best friend is in the room. It feels rude. To you. But you did want to finish what he started, though. He turns you into a hot mess all the time. “Tsum~” You whined and cupped his cheeks — coaxing him to come closer to you. His leaned forward and his lips instinctively enveloped yours and he kissed you softly. Both Wet lips gently smacking the other rang between you two while he caressed your tummy. You lifted your right leg — encouraging him to spread his warm hand all over your body. He slid his hand into your shorts and cupped your pussy. “Mn.” You quivered at the burning sensation and rested your right leg against the wall. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist to keep him there. Your roommate forgot about the show and watched whatever was on YouTube on her phone; unbeknownst to her that his fingers were rubbing your throbbing pussy from under the blanket. He kissed you deeply — stealing your moans while his fingers rubbed your folds. “Mmm.” Your arched your back for more of that sensation — making you wetter every time he caressed it slowly and softly.
Soon after, your slickness covered his fingers. Making it easier for him to spread it all over your pussy. he simply slid a digit into your cunt and You twitched at the sudden intrusion and clenched the finger lovingly. “You like that.” He whispers against your lips and chuckled. Your hand still held on to his wrist as he slowly thrusts into your tight core. “Ooo.” You whispered, relishing the digit stroking your plush walls as he rubbed your clit with his thumb. Lost in his ministrations, your roommate can clearly see what he’s doing to you in the mirror: you raised your leg to rest the heel of your foot against the wall and your fingers scratching his undercut. Especially, the way his left arm is slowly pushing back and forth underneath the covers. She stared unashamedly at the scenery and heeded the deep kisses to keep you from moaning loudly. You rolled your hips in circles to make him go deeper and he smirked. “U-Unh~” You choked on your breath when he bent the digit and rubbed your spongy spot. You shivered at the sensation and let out a quivered sigh. “Ha-haaaa….” The fingertip brushed your spot so well that your stomach fluttered, lovingly.
Your roommate’s heart sunk deeply and she quickly snapped her head to your side of the room when heard a very loud gasp escape from your lips. you cummed. “Oh fuck.” You panted breathlessly, clenching around the digit. Your toes were clenching and unclenching against the wall. He leaned down and kissed your neck. “Mm.” You stared up at the ceiling and circled your hips as he rubbed your throbbing clit slowly to help you cool off. He planted wet pecks on your hot skin as he did until you quickly gripped his wrist and said, “L-lemme go pee, babe.” You felt like you’re about to squirt in a few seconds. He nodded and kissed your forehead. You sat up and the blanket fell down to your lap. “Ya wanna show your tits to everybody?” He chuckled, staring at your beautiful perky tits. “Huh?” You looked down. “O-oh my god.” You giggled and covered your breasts with your arm. This is what exactly happens when he has you wrapped around his finger. You got off the bed and he picked up his black shirt and tossed it to you. “Wear this to protect my babies.” “Shut up!” You giggled at the blonde as you put it on. “I’ll be back.” You said and he nodded. “Wait - gimme a’kiss.” He stopped you and you turned back to him and kissed him. You broke away from the hot kiss and skipped to the bathroom down the hallway.
He’s so damn clingy, your friend scoffed and went back to watching a Clothing Haul video on YouTube. The air felt so awkward since you left. Extremely awkward. “You wish that was you, huh?” He broke the silence, smirking deviously at your her. She looked up and saw the biggest fucking smirk on his face. She wanted to punch him so fucking badly. He giggled at the woman and said, “I bet ya do.” Her brows furrowed. “Shut the fuck up.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry~, can’t hear ya.” He grinned, picking up his phone to check his notifications. The cocky blonde was teasing your best friend “playfully” while you went to use the toilet. She shook her head. He honestly doesn’t know why she doesn’t like him but he doesn’t care to know. “I gotta show my love for my girl ya know -“ “okay…I’m back.” you walked towards him and stood in between his legs. He immediately wrapped his arms around you and looked up at you. “What?” You giggled, resting your arms on his shoulder. “Nothin~‘“ he smiled softly at you.
She rolled her eyes at the annoying fox. “I’m gonna go shower.” She got up from her bed and gathered her stuff in annoyance. “Oh…okay.” You slowly nodded at her as she walked out the room. “What did you do?” You poked his forehead. He whined. “I didn’t do anythin’~ “ he pouted and looked up at you with sad puppy eyes. You shook your head and pushed him down on the bed and he pulled you down to his chest. He pulled you down with him. “Don’t be piss me off, Tsumu.” He chuckled at your warning. “I love you baby~” he wrapped his arms around you with a playful smirk on his face.
“I think I’m gonna puke.” She muttered in the hallway.
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10:59PM
She took a very long shower, in fact. As she walked down the hallway, she hoped that he had left already. “hopefully I’ll get to sleep in peace tonight.” She mumbled as she carried her towel and toiletries with her. When she quietly opened the door, the lights turned were off. Except for the TV. She turned on her lamp and saw atsumu’s glistening back; he was pistoning you steadily with your legs resting on his broad shoulders. And, your hand resting on the back of his head as he did. The light squelching sounds didn’t go unnoticed. She opened her drawer forcefully and Your heart sunk deeply and you quickly pulled your blanket over him. He slowed down and leaned closer— chest to chest and rolled his hips roughly. His skin burned against yours as he did; making you breathe heavily in his neck. You shut your eyes at the sensation and caressed his glistening back. His cock was poking your spongy spot so well that you tried to roll your hips up to meet his deep thrusts. “Mn.” You bit your bottom lip and quivered, trying to keep quiet as his cock felt so good stroking your plush walls.
After she put her stuff away, She turned off her lamp and went to bed. Atsumu pulled back and the blanket fell off his broad back. Thankful for the much needed air, he slid his hands up under your legs and pushed them back and increased his pace again but steadily. You pushed your head back in the pillow. The light wet sounds of his cock thrusting inside your sobbing cunt echoed between you and him. “Unh..” he sighed. “You’re so wet for me baby.” He hissed lowly, feeling your warm arousal glazing around his cock as he pistons into your cunt, fervently. You covered your mouth as he did — not wanting to wake her up. The wet sounds were faint in her ears as he did. Except for the sounds of the bed creaking and the sheets shifting under his feet. But, it wasn’t too loud. Besides, she was watching a vlog on YouTube underneath the covers. Atsumu’s thighs smacked against the back of yours feverishly but steadily. The colorful lights from the tv shined on his glistening back. He pushed your leg down to get deeper into your sweet cunt and brought his thumb up to rub your clit. “A-agh.” You shivered, the fluttering sensations made you throb and clench around him. He hummed and did it again and you pushed your head back deeper into the pillow and breathed out heavily. The calloused pad circled your puffy clit quickly as he stroked your walls; rewarding him with a gratified sigh from your trembling lips. The tingling sensation felt so good that you started humping against it, feverishly. “Yeah..that’s it baby.” He whispered, feeling you squeezing his cock as he fondled it. He grinned at your glistening face illuminating from the tv in the background. Your face became contorted by his ministrations that you immediately started twitching from the fierce sensation mixed with your shakened pants. “A-agh!” You gasped lowly, quivering as you cummed beneath him.
Your heavy pants rang in his ears as he waited for you to cool down. Your chest heaved heavily. You pussy was still throbbing, desperately. You whined lowly when he slept pushed his cock into you to feel a few more of your after shocks squeezing him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Ya okay, babe?” He muttered. You nodded and he hummed before he wrapped his lips around yours.
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Your roommate was long asleep. Her phone was forgotten as the next video(s) played next to her. Your low pants were music to his ears as you rode his thick cock. His toes clenched at the relentless squeezes from your sobbing cunt; rewarding you with a low gutteral moan. His fingers digged into your sides while he was getting rocked by you. He looked up at you a faint smile on his face; admiring your blissful face as you took him so well. “Bounce on it baby.” He encouraged you in a whisper. You lifted your hips and sank on his cock. “Yeah…like that.” He pushed his feet in and thrusted into your core whenever you sat on it — bouncing lovingly on his glistening cock. Your head fell back at the sensation of his tip rubbing your spongy spot. “That’s it, baby.” He slid his hand up to your breasts and kneaded them. “Mmm.” You stammered when he started bucking his hips roughly into your core while he kneaded your globes. The steady sounds of wet skin slapping sounds echoed between you two. He watched his cock entering your sobbing cunt as he did. “Goddamn…” he grit his teeth, heeding the thick sloppy sounds of his length smothered by your warm arousal. It was music to his ears.
He slid his hand down to your hip. The other resting on your back — coaxing you to come closer to him. “U-unh!” You hiccuped when he started thrusting quickly into your core. His thighs were slamming against yours, quickly but with good control. “Mmmm.” He moaned, grinning at the sensations while the passionate sloppy sounds echoed through his ears. Your breaths quivered in his face as he did. “Right there…” he wrapped an arm around you to anchor you and the other grabbing your ass. He kissed you deeply. Stealing your moans as he pistons into you. “U-ugh.” You broke the kiss. “right there…right there, baby.” He whispered, holding you tightly. He feels it. You’re getting closer to your release as your stomach coiled. He whispers sweet nothing as he thrusts deeply into your core. “U-Unh.” his mouth starts slowly opening wide from vice grip of your walls pulsating. “Mm!” He bit his bottom lip, grabbing your ass cheek roughly as he thrusts faster. “Ugh!” He groaned lowly, digging his toes in the bed. “Mmmmm.” He moaned, feeling your ass slamming against his thighs. His drops his hands on either side of his head as he slams into your sweet pussy.
After a while, you started quivering. He gave a throaty chuckle as he watched you; feeling your walls crumbling more than ever. You’re very close to falling apart. He quickly grabbed the back of yours thighs and you spread yours legs further apart as he fucks you to oblivion. The bed creaked loudly and that’s when her eyebrows twitched. “Ts-Tsum!” You whispered loudly, trembling in his hold.
You don’t want to wake her up and not get caught by the Dean. Especially at this time. Soon after, your loud gasps escapes your quivering lips; forcing her eyes to open. he stopped and gave a throaty chuckle while you were squirting on him. He dropped his legs and laid still. his cock was twitching as it shoots his cum inside you. He gave a guttural moan at your relentless squeezes as he did and circled his hips for more of that sweet warmth to cool off. “I love you so much, baby.” He growled lowly, smirking as he pulled you close by the back of your head and kissed you deeply. You moaned at his unwavering love for you while the deep lip smacking sounds echoed in the room. She wanted to throw a show at him as he made love to you. He didn’t give fuck if your best friend heard everything. He smacked your ass loudly to make sure she did as a “final say” while he kissed you deeply.
She checked the time and took a deep breath and forced herself back into slumber.
Tch. It’s fucking 1:30AM.
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9:15AM
The sounds of shuffling picked her ears up. She opened her eyes from underneath the blanket and it was bright in the room. You opened the curtains to let some light in the room. She heard you mumbling about requesting a taxi to get him to the airport as you helped him get his stuff sorted in his duffle bag. “Do you have everything?” You sounded sleepy as you watched him packing the clothes he wore yesterday in his bag. “Mhmm.” He nodded and hooked it over his shoulder. “Okay…let’s go.” You whispered drowsily and held his hand and walked out the room with him. As soon the door closed, she pushed the blanket away from her body with a kick and sighed.
Finally! The bastard is out of the room! She huffed as she stared up at the ceiling. “Thank GOD.” She covered her eyes with the back of her hand.
The school ground was empty as you walked Atsumu down to the campus’s main entrance gate. You both saw the taxi waiting for him at the front of the building. Before he opened the door, he gave a kiss on yours lips. “I’m gonna miss ya’” he slurred, looking sleepy as he pouted. You whined and wrapped your arms around his neck. The fact that he’s leaving you alone again makes you sad. But, he’ll be away for a week and then he’ll be back. You puckered your lips and he leaned down to give you another kiss. He chuckled at how sleepy you look. It’s cute. “I love you.” He smiled softly and caressed your ass. “I love you too.” You hummed softly. He grabbed your ass playfully and gave you another one last kiss and he hugged you, tightly. “Be safe.” You mumbled. He hummed. “I’ll call ya when once we land.” He turned to open the door and got inside the car. You waved at each other as the driver leaves the premises and he was gone.
You walked back into your room, took a pill and sat in your bed with a sad look on your face. “So? How was the fuck? Good? ” she blurted out. senselessly. “What?” You blinked, trying to register what she just asked you. “I bet you slept real good, y/n.” She stared daggers at you. You blushed. “I wasn’t loud-“ “GIRL, I heard…everythingggg.” She emphasized with her fingers. “No, I swear we just cuddled.” You told her but she wasn’t buying it. “He fucked you so good that you can’t even remember what happened?” You giggled at the fact. And she nodded playfully when she said, “Ooo baby ~ just like that ~ Awh Tsumu!” She mocked you, playfully. “Stooop~” you rolled on your bed in embarrassment , giggling at her funny tone. “Yeah ~ right there don’t stop! Unh!” You threw your pillow at her while you blushed so hard. She laughed hysterically at your reactions. “Staaahp!” You hid under the blanket and giggled. “Ooo~I’m gunna cum, baby!” She continued and threw her pillow at you. you squeaked in embarrassment; wrapping yourself in your blanket like a burrito. Wanting to be sent to the void.
Laughters and mockery filled the room so early in the morning. “You owe me for not cock-blocking you, bitch!” She got up, ran and jumped on your bed. “I can’t believe you made me third wheel!” She shook you playfully. “Ah!” You squeaked. “Okay! Okay! What do you want?!” You chuckled softly. “A boyfriend!” Suddenly, you raised your eyebrows and your eyes widened. “One that’s great in sports and is attractive and smart and…” you blinked up at her in surprise. “Tall and clingy…and…” you giggled softly as she spoke. “What?” She stopped and looked down at you, curiously.
“It a deal.” You smiled softly. You couldn’t wait to ask Atsumu for a big favor.
End.
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