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macfrog · 1 year

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you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

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piastri-lover · 1 year

Text

only her; lando norris

summary: in which you and your boyfriend go on holiday together, but the only pictures he seems to share are of you

pairing: lando norris x reader

authors note: this is my first one of these but i keep seeing other people's so i really wanted to try!! please send in any requests u have and i'll try and do them asap!!

INSTAGRAM

yourusername 📍santorini, greece

tagged: landonorris liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 1328947 others yourusername honey, honey, how he thrills me x view comments

user1 im so fucking jealous of her -user2 why shes just an attention seeking whore --user1 bitch who are u to talk

carlossainz55 why does he looks so goofy in the water? -yourusername who taught u the word goofy lol --carlossainz55 lando :))

landonorris prettiest boy ever (and ig shes kinda cute too) -yourusername think hes kinda mid icl

landonorris love u baby x -yourusername ig i love u too --landonorris i take it back ---user3 i want what they have

user4 im sorry but why does she literally have the perfect body liked by landonorris -user4 ahh lando liked

user5 does no one else think they're only together bc she's a golddigger and he likes her body -user6 i do always feel like there's no chemistry --user7 its their relationship why do u care??

~~~

landonorris 📍santorini, greece

tagged: yourusername liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 5927462 others landonorris her.view comments

carlossainz55 u were on holiday for 2 weeks and u only have pictures of ur gf -landonorris only ones worth posting

user8 carlos is saying what we're all thinking -user9 can't believe she's manipulated lando like this --user10 bitch u better be joking

yourusername we went to 4 diff islands and they're the only photos u have -landonorris i can post the one of u after that night in mykonos --yourusername nvm these are great

yourusername don't know who that guy is but i LOVE his hands -user11 omg she's so real for that

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris

tagged: yourusername liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 3183640 others landonorris thanks for 100k likes on twt, i think she looks as pretty as ever xx view comments

user12 how does she still look so good -user13 fr like i don't even know why she made such a big deal out of it --user14 attention seeking i bet

yourusername i hate u -landonorris love u 2 baby xx

oscarpiastri did u take any other photos in greece -landonorris wdym i've only posted the prettiest views --oscarpiastri smooth

user15 i wish i was her -user16 i wish i was lando so i could just stare at her all day

georgerussell63 lando's giggling at all the comments about how pretty y/n is -landonorris fuck off no i'm not --yourusername i wish u were that's kinda hot ---landonorris i 100% was

~~~

yourusername 📍greece

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793583 others yourusername bc lando refuses to share photos from holiday... view comments

user17 yk they were staying in the best hotels -user18 joys of dating an f1 driver

user19 ik that lando was just the most romantic on this trip liked by yourusername

landonorris these photos are mid compared to the ones on my page -yourusername ur mid compared to me --user20 facts liked by landonorris

landonorris am i right in saying the third photo is before u fell over and grazed ur knee -yourusername fuck offffff --landonorris love u bitch

user21 i want what they have -user22 witty banter in comment sections?? --user21 no lol good looks

~~~

landonorris replied to your story:

landonorris look so good baby xx

yourusername thank u my love missing greece so much

landonorris yeah me too

yourusername the food the music the hot weather the views

landonorris looking at u everyday

yourusername oh shut up

landonorris never ;) see u on friday x

yourusername yeah love u ig

landonorris i kinda love u as well

~~~

landonorris 📍santorini, greece

tagged: yourusername liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 4193759 others landonorris missing her hours x view comments

user23 okay i do kinda see why he likes her she's stunning -user24 i don't know how lando norris of all people pulled her --user25 she's everything and he's just ken

maxfewtrell @/yourusername pls come get ur man he hasn't shut up about u since he got home -yourusername don't tell him but i do kinda miss him --landonorris i fucking knew it ---yourusername nvm im over it

yourusername ik u took other photos post them bitch -landonorris these the only pretty ones --yourusername idk how someone is so cute and infuriating at the same time

user26 at this point i'm not even convinced lando went on holiday i think he just took photos of y/n liked by landonorris

user27 she's stunning

user28 lando dump y/n and pick me instead -yourusername @/landonorris u heard them --landonorris sorry baby but the people have spoken ---yourusername @/user28 hope ur ready to deal with his snoring lol ----landonorris Y/N FUCK OFF!!

#f1 instagram au #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 smau #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #formula 1 instagram au #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris insta au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris smau #lando norris blurb #lado norris oneshot #formula one smau #formula one x reader #formula one x you

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 3 days

Note

Hey could u do something about ghost being a dad to a son. I always see him as girl!dad but Icl I imagine him to have boys

Thank you xx

Just another day, just another night {Simon "Ghost" Riley}

A/n: ngl, I always see Simon as a girl dad too but he would be an amazing boy dad as well. Anyways, thank you for requesting and I hope you like it.

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader

Trigger warning: mentions of Ghost's past

Not once in his life had Simon thought that being woken up by a four year old boy jumping up and down on your shared bed would bring him joy.

He had returned last night and even though you had stayed up waiting for him after he called you as soon as he landed on the base, of course your son couldn't stay up that late. He had thought about asking you to wake him up just for five minutes but the thought was instantly scratched from his mind when he realised that putting him back to bed would be a nightmare.

Simon wanted to groan from how tired he was but didn't. He felt your body slightly moving next to him and he quickly opened his eyes, picked your son up in his arms and got out of bed. As much as he wanted to spend the entire morning in bed with just you and your son, preparing a small surprise breakfast for you seemed more appealing in his mind.

"Number one rule for being a proper man, buddy," Simon placed the tiny -compared to him- boy on the counter. Your kitchen was pretty small so he wasn't worried about him falling since Simon took up most of the space. "Always cook for your partner." He ruffled the boy's head and got down to work.

Looking at your son at first, back when he was nothing more than a baby in your belly, made Simon tear up. Would he even be a good father? Could he be a good father? Those two questions roamed in his brain, keeping him awake most if not all nights. But as soon as the baby boy was born and he held him the first time, all he could see was a spitting image of himself along with a few of your traits.

And soon enough, whenever Simon deemed that you needed to rest, which was technically everyday, he would pick up your son, head to the living room and turned on the tv. It wasn't until a few days later when you woke up from a nap and walked to the living room that you realised that Simon and your son were watching Premier League together.

It was a funny sight, your son curled up in Simon's arms happily waving his hands while your husband explained the rules to him. And now, four years later, your son would make you watch Premier League with him whenever Simon wasn't there and then he would call his father -only if the mission allowed some sort of communication- and they would talk about football. Not that the little boy's words made much sense but Simon understood him anyways.

"Waffles!" The little boy tagged on his dad's shirt. Simon stopped and looked at him, slightly confused.

"Did your mum buy that waffle maker?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He was planning on buying you one as a small gift but it appeared as if you had bought one already. The small boy nodded. "Let's make waffles then."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod x reader #cod x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader fluff #simon ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley x reader #writing

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wosoragebaiter69 · 8 months

Text

ignored

alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this photo is my roman empire and new tiktok pfp 😜 (my titles on fics or SO over dramatic icl)

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

Being the second captain of Barcelona, meant coming with a few responsibilities. Like showing new players around, and trying to include them in the atmosphere to make the whole move less daunting. It probably makes sense considering we are the best in the world.

Which is what’s happening right now, we’ve signed a new centre-back, considering we barely have any due to injuries. Currently we rely on a defensive midfielder, and anyone we deam can do it. Not ideal. January transfer is like heaven.

We walk around, talk about our lives a little bit as I try to make conversation more homey. Apparently she has a girlfriend who plays for PSG and I talk about Alexia, my other captain and long-time girlfriend. Who may (definitely) have a slight jealousy problem.

After a while of talking and walking, we make it to the gym and I announce the arrival.

“Everyone! As you know, we have a new person joining us! Make her feel welcome, included and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” They nod their heads going back to their respective activities as the new recruit smiles fondly at me, something which doesn’t go missed by Alexia.

I turn to face the CB.

“Now you, let’s get you headed for the locker room. I’ll show you your area and then you can go home for now. I’m assuming Jona has emailed you a schedule of everything?” She nods.

“Alright, now message me if you need anything and I’ll add you to the main group chat all of the girls are in.” She smiles and I lead her toward our changing rooms showing her where she’ll be.

“You can decorate a little bit, add some personality like some of the girls have. Anything you need can be kept here.” I point to a door at the end of the room.

“That’s the showers, obviously if you’re going anywhere after trainings. I know Patri likes to play music, so I suggest some strong noise-cancelling headphones if you don’t like the music. Any questions?” She shakes her head, I smile.

“Well then, go home. Settle into the new apartment, Ale and I live pretty close to you. Same with Ingrid and Mapi, who are also willing to answer anything else you have in mind.”

I pause.

“Now, if that girlfriend of yours ever comes to visit I’d like to meet her, I know it seems straightforward but I do like meeting new people.” I notice the recruit blushing, and pat her shoulder before leaving.

- - - - -

Over the next couple days, I ensure the new defender is fitting in well and she is. Hanging out with Ingrid and Frido but also Keira and Aitana, it’s good to see.

Alexia might think differently. I noticed her getting worked up over something but I can’t imagine what. I can but I don’t know how when a quick instagram search could cease any of her worries. She’s too straight headed for that.

It’s after training when I see her approach, I’m speaking on tactics in the locker room when Alexia slides in next to me, her arm wrapping protectively around my waist. I smirk then hear what she has to say.

“Ready to go home amor?” She says, kissing my neck softly, something she’d rarely do in such a public setting. I stifle my laugh nodding and saying my goodbyes to everyone else, getting in the passenger seat of our car as Alexia insists she always drives.

I sigh, her jaw is set and I can tell something is wrong.

“Alexia, qué pasó?” She shakes her head, her knuckles growing whiter as she grips the steering wheel. I know I can’t do anything but I seem so helpless at the moment.

It’s a completely different change from the confidence in the change rooms to now not even speaking to me.

We head inside without saying a word, I head straight for a shower to hopefully get a grip on where the conversation with Alexia will lead.

- - - - -

After the shower, I walk into the living room and Alexia is sat with her legs crossed in the couch, staring straight ahead at the blank TV. I break the silence.

“If you stare at the poor TV any longer I think it’ll break.” She doesn’t say anything, just nodding slowly her eyes darting toward me before back in front.

“I will not do this Ale. You need to tell me your feelings or we can’t work this out.” She huffs leaning back.

“Lo siento, I just… missed you.” Her voice quiet, I nod in understanding, I spent a lot of time with the new defender.

“So in other words, you’re jealous?” She blows an air bubble between her lips. (do you guys know what i mean by that)

“Maybe.” I can barely hear her voice but I don’t need to.

“Well baby, nothing to worry about because A. she has a girlfriend and B. I love you more than anything. Never forget that. I’ll try make more time and maybe we can meet the new ones girlfriend when she comes to Spain.” She nods slowly.

“Sorry I acted this way.” I shake my head.

“No, it’s ok. I understand, I sort of put you aside. I’ve learnt and I’ll prioritise your feelings a little bit more in the future.” She nods, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Te amo Ale. Remember it forever.” I place my lips against hers, gently and full of passion that I’d never give to anyone but her.

When oxygen gets the best of us I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in everything of this moment. Oh, I never want to leave.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #wlw #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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thronesoldaccido · 20 days

Text

Love From Afar

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Fem!Reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley TW: Angst, Romance, Love Triangle, reader injured, hurt/no comfort, “stalking?” WC: 2.6K a/n: didn't really know how to end this one icl i hope you enjoy it not proofread

The base was always quieter at night, a stillness settling over the barracks that felt both peaceful and suffocating. Simon often found himself alone during these hours, taking solace in the shadows where he felt the most at home. The darkness was a refuge for him, a place where he could exist without the weight of his past or the expectations of those around him. But lately, that solace had been slipping away eroded by the presence of someone who had managed to slip past his carefully constructed defences, you.

You had been with the team for over a year now, and in that time, you had become indispensable. Not just because of your skills in the field, they were formidable, but because of your spirit. You were strong but also kind, a combination that was rare in their line of work. You had a way of making everyone around you feel seen, feel valued. Even Simon, who had spent years perfecting the art of emotional detachment, couldn’t help but be drawn to you.

At first, he had dismissed his feelings as a passing infatuation, something he could easily ignore. But as time went on, those feelings only grew stronger, more insistent. He found himself gravitating toward you, seeking her out in the rare moments of downtime they had. It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him, though you were undeniably beautiful, it was the way you treated him, like he was more than just the mask he wore.

But there was a problem, a problem with a name…. Kyle

Kyle and you had a connection that ghost couldn’t ignore. You were close in a way that Simon had never been with anyone. You shared jokes, whispered conversations and a bond that was palpable even in a room full of people. Simon could see it in the way Kyle looked at you, the way you smiled back at him. It was clear that you cared deeply for Seach other and as much as Simon hated to admit it. You fit together perfectly.

Simon was always on the outside, looking in. he was the one in the shadows, watching as Kyle made you laugh, as you leaned into him for comfort after a tough mission. And it hurt. But he kept his distance, telling himself it was for the best. You deserved someone who could offer stability and warmth, a future and that wasn’t him. He was a soldier, a “Ghost” and he didn’t belong in the light where you shone. You picked Kyle Afterall.

But no matter how hard he tried to distance himself, he couldn’t escape you. You seemed to have a way of finding him, even in the darkest corners of the base. You would sit with him in silence, sometimes talking about nothing in particular, other times just being there. It was in those moments that Simon allowed himself to hope, just for a second, that maybe there was something between them.

That hope was dangerous. It gnawed at him, growing stronger with each passing day until it became almost unbearable. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if things were different, if he was the one making you laugh, the one you turned to for comfort.

That day, the mission had started like any other, but something in the air felt different that day. The team moved through enemy territory with their usual precision, but the tension was palpable, an undercurrent of unease that none of them could shake. Simon led the way, as he often did, his senses honed to a razors edge. Beside him was you, always steady, always focused. Behind them, Kyle, his gaze ever watchful, not just the surroundings but of you.

Kyle had fallen for you a few weeks after you joined the team. He simply fell in love with you. He admired your skill he admired your intelligence. You would laugh at his jokes even the horrible ones. You were everything that he hadn’t known he was looking for. Kyle loved you with sincerity. But with that love came fear. fear that he couldn’t protect you that the dangerous life they led would take you from him. He kept it buried, knowing that you were more capable of taking care of yourself. Still the thought of losing you was something he couldn’t bear.

And then, the ambush happened

They were close to the extraction point when the first shots rang out, the sharp cracks of gunfire shattering the quiet. The enemy had been waiting for them, and within seconds, the team was pinned down, bullets ripping through the air. Simon’s instincts kicked in immediately. He moved with deadly precision, returning fire as he called out orders to the rest of the team. You were beside Kyle, paranoid, eyes darting, moving as swifty as you could. But before you could even raise your firearm to save yourself. You were hit.

Simon turned seeing you fall before his eyes. Your body crumpling to the ground as blood blossomed across her side.

“NO!” Kyles voice was a broken cry as he rushed to your side. His heart racing with a fear unlike anything he’d ever known. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he tried to stop the bleeding, panic gripped him. His thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of disbelief and terror. “Stay with me, love” Kyle begged, pressing down on the wound. “Please, stay with me. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay.”

Your eyes fluttered open, pain etched across your features, but you managed a weak smile. “I’m fine, Kyle… don’t worry.”

But you weren’t fine. The wound was serious, the blood loss too great. Kyle could see the colour draining from your face, could feel you slipping away, and it terrified him. All he could think about was how he had failed to protect you, how he might lose the woman he loved more than anything.

Simon saw the whole thing, his heart freezing as he watched you fall. Rage and fear surged through him as he fought to clear a path to the extraction point, his focus split between the battle and the sight of Kyle, desperately trying to keep you alive. A part of him was consumed with guilt, but another part—darker, more dangerous—began to resent Kyle for not protecting you.

“Get her to the extraction point!” Simon ordered, his voice a harsh bark as he cut down the last of the enemy fighters. “Now!”

The team rallied around them, forming a protective barrier as they moved toward the extraction point. Simon took point, his movements mechanical, driven by a cold fury that made him even more lethal. Every second felt like a lifetime, every breath a reminder of how close you were to death. And all he could think about was how Kyle had let this happen.

The chopper ride back to base was filled with a heavy, suffocating silence. The medics worked frantically to stabilize you, shouting orders to the pilot to get them back as fast as possible. Kyle sat beside you, his hands gripping yours tightly, his face a mask of anguish and desperation. Simon sat across from them, his eyes locked on your pale face, his heart a storm of conflicting emotions. When they finally landed, you were rushed into the med bay, leaving Simon and Kyle standing on the tarmac. The weight of everything that had happened crashed down on Simon, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He turned on Kyle, his voice low and seething with resentment.

“You were supposed to protect her,” Simon growled, stepping closer to Kyle, his eyes burning with anger.

Kyle looked up, his face pale and drawn, still reeling from the fear of losing you “What are you talking about, Simon?”

Simon’s hands clenched into fists, the rage that had been building inside him for hours finally breaking free. “You were right there, Kyle. You were supposed to have her back. And now she’s in there fighting for her life because you couldn’t do your damn job!”

Kyle blinked, the shock of Simon’s accusation momentarily stunning him. “I did everything I could! We were under fire, Simon! There was nothing I could do to stop that bullet!”

“Bullshit!” Simon snapped, his voice rising with each word. “You let her get hurt! You were too busy being her damn boyfriend to do what needed to be done!”

Kyle’s face twisted with anger, his own emotions finally boiling over. “How dare you say that? You think I don’t care? You think I’m not tearing myself apart over this? I love her, Simon! I’d die for her!”

“You didn’t do enough,” Simon spat, his voice filled with venom. “You say you love her, but you couldn’t even keep her safe. And now she’s lying in there because you failed.”

Kyle’s hands balled into fists. He took a step toward Simon, his voice trembling with fury. “You don’t get to judge me, Simon. You think you know what love is? You think you understand what it’s like to care about someone so much it tears you apart?”

“I care about her more than you could ever know,” Simon snarled, his eyes dark with emotion. “I’ve cared about her since the day she joined this team. But unlike you, I’ve kept it in check because I know what’s at stake. And now look where your so-called love has gotten her.”

Kyle’s eyes widened, the realization of Simon’s words hitting him like a physical blow. “You… you have feelings for her?”

Simon’s jaw tightened, the truth hanging in the air between them like a blade. “Yes, Kyle. I do. But I’ve respected her, respected you, because I knew she was yours. But now, because of you, she’s lying on a table, bleeding out.”

Kyle’s face twisted in a mix of shock and anger. “You think this is my fault? You think she’d ever choose you over me? You’re just a coward, Simon—a coward who hides behind a mask and a rifle because you’re too afraid to let anyone in!”

Simon’s patience snapped. Without thinking, he swung, his fist connecting with Kyle’s jaw with a sickening thud. The force of the blow sent Kyle staggering back, but he quickly regained his footing, his own anger flaring as he launched himself at Ghost.

They collided with a fury that had been building for months, fists flying as they grappled with each other. Kyle landed a solid punch to Ghost’s ribs, but Ghost retaliated, slamming his fist into Kyle’s stomach with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

“You’re not good enough for her,” Simon growled, his voice filled with years of repressed anger and pain. “You let her get hurt. You let her bleed.”

Before Kyle could respond, strong hands grabbed both men, yanking them apart with a force that broke their grip on each other.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Captain Price’s voice was like a gunshot, sharp and filled with authority. He shoved Simon back, his gaze hard and unforgiving as he looked between the two men. “This is how you handle things? Brawling like a couple of schoolboys while She’s in there fighting for her life?”

“You’re both out of line,” Price continued, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “I don’t care what’s going on between you two, but this? This isn’t how you solve it. You think this is what she needs right now? You think this is going to help her?”

Kyle’s eyes dropped to the floor, the shame and guilt weighing heavily on him. Simon stood rigid, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to control the storm of emotions raging inside him.

Price looked between them, his voice softening just a fraction. “You both care about her. I get that. But right now, what she needs is to know that her team is behind her. That means all of us. You two need to get your heads on straight, because she’s the one that matters right now. Not this bullshit between you.”

Kyle nodded; Simon already walked away.

The days following the mission were heavy with tension, the kind that everyone felt but no one dared to address. Your condition was stable, but you remained in the med bay, recovering from your injuries. The team was grateful that you had survived, but the incident had left scars on more than just her body. Simon couldn’t shake the anger that had consumed him during the mission. The fight with Kyle had been inevitable, a culmination of months of pent-up emotions and unspoken feelings. But even after Captain Price had forced them to back down, the rage and guilt still simmered beneath the surface. Ghost couldn’t forgive Kyle for what had happened to you, but more than that, he couldn’t forgive himself.

It was late one night, long after most of the base had gone to sleep, when Simon found himself standing outside the med bay. He hadn’t been able to sleep since the mission, his thoughts plagued by images of you lying on that stretcher, pale and bleeding. The guilt was a constant, gnawing presence, but it was the fear that truly terrified him—the fear of losing you, the realization that he might never have the chance to tell you how he really felt.

He hadn’t seen you since that day, choosing to stay away out of respect for Kyle, and because he couldn’t bear to face you after everything that had happened. But now, something pulled him toward the med bay, a need to see you, to make sure you were okay. He told himself it was just to check on you, just to see with his own eyes that you were healing, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.

The med bay was dimly lit, the quiet hum of machines the only sound as Simon stepped inside. you were there, lying on the narrow bed, your eyes closed in sleep. Even in the Bright light, you looked so fragile, so different from the strong, confident woman he had come to admire. The sight of you like this, vulnerable and wounded, twisted something inside him.

Simon stood at the edge of the bed, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you. you were safe. you were alive. But all he could think about was how close he had come to losing you, how close he had come to losing the one person who had ever made him feel like more than just a soldier, more than just a ghost.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, just watching you breathe, the rise and fall of your chest the only thing grounding him. But then, as if sensing his presence, you stirred, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Simon?” your voice was soft, still heavy with sleep, but there was a warmth in it that sent a jolt through him.

Simon froze, his heart in his throat. He hadn’t expected you to wake up, hadn’t prepared himself for the possibility of having to speak to you, to explain why he was there. But now that you were looking at him, those familiar brown eyes filled with a softness that made his heart ache, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You offered him a small, tired smile. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.”

Your words hit him harder than they should have, a mixture of relief and something deeper that he didn’t want to acknowledge. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you admitted, your hand moving to rest gently over the bandage on your side. “But better. The doctors said I should be back on my feet in no time.”

“That’s good,” Ghost said, but his voice was distant, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t control.

They fell into a silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Ghost’s eyes traced the contours of your face. the way your lips curved into that soft, familiar smile. He knew he shouldn’t be there, that he should leave before he did something he would regret, but he couldn’t make himself move.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” Lolade’s voice was gentle, filled with concern.

Simon looked away, trying to gather his thoughts, but it was no use. The emotions he had been fighting for so long came rushing to the surface, and before he could stop himself, he spoke. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Your expression softened, your eyes searching his. “I’m still here.”

“I know,” Simon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But when I saw you get hit… I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

The words came out unbidden, a raw confession of the fear and guilt that had been tearing at him since the mission. He hadn’t meant to say them, hadn’t meant to open himself up like this, but now that the words were out, he couldn’t take them back.

You reached out, your hand finding his. The touch was warm, comforting, and it sent a shiver through him. “Simon, you don’t have to carry this alone. You’ve always been there for me, for all of us. But you don’t have to be the strong one all the time.”

Simon looked down at your hand in his, the softness of your skin against his calloused fingers. It was too much—your kindness, your understanding, the way you always seemed to see right through him. And before he knew what he was doing, before he could think about the consequences, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, tentative, filled with all the emotions he had kept buried for so long. For a brief, fleeting moment, the world faded away, and there was only Lolade, her warmth, her softness, everything he had ever wanted but knew he could never have.

But then, reality came crashing down.

You stiffened under his touch; your eyes wide with shock as you pulled back.

“Simon…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

Simon recoiled, the weight of his mistake hitting him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, Simon,” you interrupted, your voice stronger now, though still tinged with shock and disbelief. “You shouldn’t have.” you pulled your hand away from his, your expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “You need to leave. Now.”

Ghost felt his heart sink, the rejection cutting deeper than he had imagined. “I, please, I—”

“Go,” you repeated, your voice firm, even as your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Kyle will be here any minute. You need to leave.”

The mention of Kyle’s name was like a punch to the gut. Simo knew you were right, knew that staying would only make things worse, but it didn’t make it any easier. He had crossed a line, a line that could never be uncrossed, and now everything was ruined. He took a step back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. The silence in the room was deafening as he walked to the door, his heart pounding with a mixture of guilt, shame, and a deep, aching sadness.

Simon knew he could only love you from afar.

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sc0tters · 8 months

Text

Home | Nathan Mackinnon

summary: a lot has happened in your life but your favourite moments are with nate, so why did things go so badly?

request: yes/no

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of drinking.

word count: 4.12k

authors note: this was some purely self indulgent angst icl because after the all star break I'm obsessed with this man so that is why it is my first time writing for him. This took me two days though so I feel like we can justify the addiction of this fic to the completed works!

Life as Sidney Crosby’s younger sister was indescribable.

Nathan had been in your life for as long as you could remember. He came in and out of it given that his friendship had always been with your older brother Sidney. The boys went from role model and fan to best friends and you grew so used to seeing Nate that you couldn’t remember what life was like before him even if it was only a few years ago.

Sid was a great older brother, probably the best your could have asked for. But as he would send these unnecessary glares in any guys direction the moment the dared to look at you. It was clear that if it wasn’t your last name stopping you from getting a date, it would be your brother instead.

Cole Harbour was a place you fell in love with. It was always connected with the warmth that came with summer. Those days that left you tanning on the porch or laughing on the boat as the ten year age gap between you and Sid turned to nothing. Every memory that was connected to the lake house only ever had joy with it. You even found yourself attaching to the moments you had with Nate.

He was the only man, the only person who treated you like you. To Nate you were only ever y/n, never Sidney’s younger sister. So it was no surprise that during your time getting to know Nate you did end up falling for him.

It was what you thought your best kept secret was. Your love for him was something that you couldn’t explain. He had you feeling dizzy from the mere way he looked at you. If Nate knew how crazy you were about him as your heart would skip a beat whenever you’d hear him talk about another girl. He never seemed to show that he took note about how you acted when Sidney was nowhere to be seen.

All of that seemed to change one night when it was only the three of you at the house “where did Sid go?” Nate asked as he popped the cap of his beer bottle before he sat in the camp chair next to her.

You let your bottle clink against his “up to bed.” Your words were met with a laugh “that old man.” The hockey player rolled his eyes as he shook his head “you think you can survive without your boyfriend?” You teased biting your lip in amusement as he scoffed.

Nate didn’t hesitate to throw his beer cap at you “hey!” It was your turn to laugh as it hit you square in the face “have to say your brother is not my type.” Nate’s tone was serious as he pressed his lips into a fine line.

Your fingers ran through your hair as you turned to him “the male party not get you going?” You joked as you turned your chair to face his letting the crackle of the burning wood echo in your ears “believe it or not they don’t.” Nate smiled as he placed his hand on your knee “y’know I’m actually really happy you’re coming to Denver.” You had gotten a job in the city and you took it. Now you were going to be living under his roof until you found your own place.

It made you match his facial expressions “you are?” Your cheeks grew warm as you tucked your hair behind your ear “yeah I do tinker.” The nickname was something he began calling you after he came over one day to see you struggling to turn on your electric drill. As you struggled to put the screw into it Nate was able to figure out that you were using a star drill bit for a straight screw. When he laughed about it seeing your cheeks turn red your nickname was set, you were his tinker from that moment forth.

Nate squeezed your knee as the gesture filled you with warmth as it made you feel weak “as Sids friend-” your words were cut off as he raised his hand to stop you in your sentence “I’m your friend too.” Nate pointed out as he had grown to build relationships with all of the Crosby siblings “you know you don’t have to act like you like him when he’s gone.” You had grown so used to the fact that people befriended you because of who you knew that it wouldn’t have surprised you if Nate turned out to be the same.

In fact you had prepared yourself for the possibility of that reality “is it so hard to believe that I do indeed like you?” Nate scoffed as he watched you get up “if you’re gonna leave then the least you could do is answer me.” The hockey player grumbled as he wrapped his hand around your wrist.

You hadn’t been this close to him before. Your lips pressed together as you got the chance look at him “look it really isn’t going to change anything.” You pointed out trying to keep your mouth shut “try me tinker cause I’ve got all damn night.” Nate stepped closer to you as he forced your head to look up at him with how close you two now were.

There was a back and forth in your mind as you groaned “I can’t believe it because I’m in love with you okay!” The words left your mouth quicker than you could process just how dangerous of a game that you were playing “you better mean that tinker.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper as you nodded watching his facial expression soften.

It took him seconds to bring his hand to the nape of your neck as he dropped his head to now be millimetres from yours. His lips were painfully close as he watched you lick your lips “if you’re not gonna kiss me then let go of me.” Your warning was enough for Nate to throw caution to the wind. His chapped lips were rough against your soft ones.

Nate wasn’t interested in trying to fight you for power. No, instead he wanted to show you just how much he desired to have you and was finally in a position to have you. His other hand gripped at your waist whilst you let your hands trail up his chest under his shirt “wait tink.” Nate groaned as you let your teeth tug at his lower lip when he pulled away.

Your lips were tingling as you swore you could still feel his “I need to stop myself cause if I don’t then I am really going to get us both in trouble.” His warning made you grin as you watched him look to where Sids bedroom was “who said I wanted you to stop?” You swore you had never seen Nate snap his head back so fast.

Because he scanned your face to see for any chance of you lying to him, he came up with nothing “you’re playing with fire tinker.” The hockey player mumbled running his fingers over your lips “and I’m ready to burn.” You mumbled kissing his neck making the boy grunt.

The hockey player didn’t hesitate to use his strength as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder “Nathan!” You squealed quickly being shushed off as you laughed “your short little legs wouldn’t move nearly as fast as I would need them to.” It was like clockwork, his legs carried you both into his house before he shut the door.

As your body hit his bed you quickly realised that he was your new comfort and it was only going to grow stronger as the summer continued on.

The relationship you had with Nate only seemed to grow stronger as you settled into life in Denver. For the first month you guys agreed to just let things stay casual. The main rule was that you were both allowed to have fun but if you both just so happened to land up in the same bed, it was okay.

By December as the cold trapped the city, you guys equally found comfort in each other’s arms. So right before the Christmas break Nate gathered the confidence to ask you out. Now it wasn’t some big ceremonial type of thing like most would have expected someone to do coming from the NHL.

Snow fell on the ground as it made you remember the soft parts of winter that you adored so much were left as evidenced by your long walk with Coco that morning.

Your hair and coat had sprinkles of white coating your skin. The chocolate Labrador matched your amused expression as you made it back into the apartment “good morning.” Nate smirked as he sipped the coffee that he had freshly made.

Silence caught you both as you stared at his shirtless body “good morning indeed.” You nodded sending him a wink “go get some water baby.” You mumbled disconnecting the leash as you stroked the dog’s fur before she excitedly ran off.

Nate opened his arms as he embraced your scent “love how good you are with her.” He spoke into your hair as he kissed your temple “she’s a good dog.” You smiled as you melted at his touch.

His hand rubbed your back as you both stood there for a few more moments “when are you meant to go home?” The word now felt so foreign to you, sure your parents were there but you swore the man in front of you was where your home was.

You grew up being taught that home was a place, walls holding up a roof that a family, your family could live in. But as Nate smiled as he scanned your face “what’s going on behind those eyes tinker?” Nate asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear “I know we agreed to keep things casual.” As your voice was hesitant the boy tensed.

He was quick to begin preparing himself for the inevitable rejection that part of him knew would have made life easier. This way the hiding and inevitable lies that would be told to Sidney could have been avoided “but?” Nate trailed off waiting to see where you were going with it.

You pursed your lips together “I want more.” Time felt like it froze as the hockey player stared at you before his mouth broke out into a smile and a laugh blew past his lips “that’s not funny!” You complaint furrowing your eyebrows.

Nate squeezed your body against his as he kissed your head once more “you love me don’t ya tinker?” He teased as he began to pepper kisses along your jaw “Nathan I will kill you.” You’d only ever use his full name to get him thinking that you were mad at him.

A gasp echoed in his ears as it finally made him stop “fucking love you t.” Nate confessed as he pinched his fingers on your chin as he tilted your jaw up to see him as he took the chance to kiss your lips. That was a day that he loved, because that was the day that he asked you to be his girlfriend, even if you would always swear that you asked him first.

You had always been fond of rollercoasters. There was something about the adrenaline that you found yourself obsessed with. Constantly chasing that height of pure bliss. Yet the last three years were forced to teach you something, what goes up must always come down.

For you, this was the worst part of your relationship with Nate. And that was all down to the fact that you swore it was the end.

It surprised you and Nate both that your fighting had gone on this long now. Three whole weeks without a conversation going by positively. It seemed that everything you did pissed him off and vice versa. He drowned himself in his hockey as he avoided the house at all costs.

He found it easier to ignore the hurt and pain you clearly felt as you were practically forgotten. Because he too was hurt. Nate hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to tell Sid about your relationship. Each time you would sit your brother down citing that you had something important to tell him, you’d end up forgetting how to speak as you would panic and chicken out of it.

Nate wanted to be able to show you off to the world as he shouted from the rooftops that you were his. Yet you denied him of that right because until you told Sid the most he was getting from you beyond the privacy of his home was a lingering glance of a muffled whisper in his ear. Everyone thought you were together but he had to deny it every single time because it was what you had asked of him.

Before he was able to bite his tongue about it but now you seemed to bear the brunt of his frustrations. As the team went seven games without a win it left Nate questioning everything, mostly why he was still with you if you weren’t ready to tell Sid. And he hated himself for that, you were his world so it killed him to doubt you.

What was going to make it all worse was that you had been waiting for two and a half hours for Nate. Sure you guys hadn’t been at your best but this reservation had been set since July. Yes you knew you were stupid but it was your three year anniversary with Nate and you guys had a table at the best restaurant in Colorado.

Or at least you did until an hour ago when the reservation came and went and there was still no sign of Nate as you cracked open your bottle of red wine “tinker!” Nate called out dropping his gym bag to the ground.

The soft sounds of your sniffling made him furrow his eyebrows “tink?” He reached the remote for the speaker before he turned it off. Even if the hockey player used to joke about your height, he hated how easily you hid “hey baby.” Nate sighed as he walked into the bedroom that you two began to share two years ago.

You were in the closet making a mess as you pulled things from your shelves shoving things into your suitcase. But that’s not what caught his attention, no it was empty bottle of wine that sat on its side pointing at your laptop. The screen had a one way flight to Canada “what is this?” Nate felt his head throb as he turned back to see you zipping up your suitcase.

Pieces of the puzzle finally began to start clicking in his head “you know what day it was today?” You began bringing your hands to wipe your tear stained cheeks “it’s the nineteenth.” A penny could have dropped that moment as his eyes went wide “I’m so sorry.” The hockey player reached out for your hand but you raised it to stop him.

You had gotten dressed up for the night, Nate’s favourite red dress that always ended up on the floor at the end of the night. Your hair was curled and your makeup was beautiful even if your mascara ran down your cheeks “where were you?” You chewed at the inside of your cheek assuming the worse “prac-” Nate couldn’t even get his words out as you slammed your hand against the wall.

Those words made you wonder if he truly ever did tel you the truth “Cale fucking told me he left three hours ago!” You yelled lashing your hands around as you swore you were seeing red “I was at the rink okay?” Nate was telling the truth, he had been sat in his car staring out the front window as he wondered how much longer he could do this for.

You wanted to believe him, truly you did. But as you stared into his eyes you couldn’t find it “I have a flight to catch.” You announced as you heard your alarm go off as you needed to get your Uber “what about our anniversary?” Nate’s words had you laughing “tell me you love me.” Your hand gripped the handle of your suitcase as you stared up at him.

Nate sighed as his facial expressions softened “you know I do.” He nodded as it only made you frown “need to hear you say it.” It was unclear if you were asking or telling him but as you were met with silence you knew you weren’t going to beg.

Colorado was a place you began to love but now it had all seemed to turn so awful so quickly that you were left in this toxic environment. The love you felt for Nate could only keep you there for so long but it seemed that tonight was your final straw. No it didn’t leave your love to dissipate but you began to lose yourself in his city. Your head grew heavy but you knew you needed to leave “when will you be back?” His voice was barely a whisper as he stepped to the side to let you go “I don’t know.” All you knew was that you needed to get out of there.

That’s how you landed back up in Cole Harbour. You knew it would be quiet as it wasn’t peak season. The most interaction you had with people was when you went out to the grocery store or to get more logs for your evening fire as the sun came down over the frozen lake.

Even as you felt all of this hurt in you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate that town. You could see where you and Nate once were like you had the front row seat to rewatch. Part of you contemplated reaching out to Nate but he was now playing the best hockey of his life and you began to wonder if that was because you were no longer there.

That was why you thought you were dreaming when you hit a month of being there when you heard the front door open “I have a weapon!” You called out with wide eyes as you stuck your head down the stairs “with your aim I’m not worried!” Sidney shot back making you instantly grow calm as you dropped his old hockey stick letting it hit the oak flooring. Your brother smiled as he locked eyes with you “Sid.” You gasped opening your arms to him as you were in need of a hug.

Seeing him there made you realise that you had been lying to yourself, you weren’t okay. You missed Nate, you missed everyone. Parts of you even missed the irritating interactions that you held with your brother as he’d pester you 24/7. No matter how much booze or food that you surround yourself in, it was never going to change the back that you grew to need those people in your life.

It killed Sid to see the hurt that was painted on your face “how’d you find me?” You had slowly started pulling away as your messages grew infrequent “Nate told me you left and I knew you were here.” Your brother kissed your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

Everything seemed to stop in that moment as you tensed under his touch “did something happen between you two?” Sid ran his hands over your cheeks as he could sense that something was off.

After all this time trying you still couldn’t lie to him, sure you could avoid telling him things, but you could never outright lie. On top of that you wanted to tell someone that you loved Nate, maybe that way you could keep your love for him alive in more than just your heart.

You frowned as you looked at your brother “I know I shouldn’t have.” Tears pooled in your eyes as you shook your head “Nate finally made a move huh?” Sidney smiled as he brought his hand to your cheek.

It made you freeze “finally?” You did your best to control your tears “he was in love with you.” The hockey player nodded as he laughed “god that boy thought I didn’t notice the way he looked at you either.” Sidney was so caught up in recounting how obvious Nate was about how he felt about you that Sidney didn’t notice how you smiled.

That afternoon you told him everything, well everything Sid would want to hear - your sex life wasn’t a topic worth sharing - but part of you just felt guilty seeing how supportive Sidney seemed to be “why don’t you call him?” The offer seemed so easy, in fact it was too easy.

And that’s why you laughed as you shook your head “I think we’re done.” Your lips pushed together as you raked your fingers through your hair “think he’s still in love with you.” The penguins player didn’t think that this was going to be how he spent his few days that he convinced the team to let him take.

You let out a sigh as you leaned against him “really?” Sid did this thing where he would twirl your hair through his finger and as you’d fall asleep it seemed to always calm your mind “he called me thinking you were with me.” As he told you that he couldn’t help but notice how you had fallen asleep finally looking at peace for the first time in the entire trip.

Sidney swore his days of meddling in your life were done until he decided that on his final day in Cole Harbour that you simply deserved better. He knew you weren’t perfect but you couldn’t spend your life hiding out in the lake house. Which is why Nate got the call after a Tuesday night game and he was only meant to be back on the ice on Thursday, it was perfect.

Your brother had left that morning as he told you to think about going home, not to your parents but to Nate. Whilst you hadn’t made the jump to booking your flight you knew you wanted to go back. So as you grew ready to turn in for the night you enjoyed watching the rain pelt against the windows. Amidst all of the chaos you found within your life it always seemed that rain reacted the same way as when you were happy to when you were at your lowest.

That was why you were so surprised when you heard a knock at the side door. You hadn’t seen a car pull in and you certainly hadn’t heard anyone walk up. The nerves you felt were low as only people you guys knew seemed to come through the side when they knew you guys were home.

Thunder clapped over the dark skies when you finally opened the door “Nathan.” You gasped seeing his clothing stick to his body as it was all soaked with rainwater “tinker.” Nate didn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug as he swore you were some figment of a dream in his distorted reality.

To say you were surprised when he kissed your head it was an understatement “I came to bring you home.” You didn’t need to go to Denver to be home “you’re my home.” You mumbled kissing his lips as that was all you ever needed.

You guys were able to look at that moment and say it was the worst moment within your relationship. Being able to bounce off of Nate you guys learned that it was a 50/50 partnership, nothing more and nothing less would end up working out for you. Everyday you grew more in love with him even in those times you thought it wasn’t going to be possible.

So years on as you looked at your three boys playing with their uncle you couldn’t help but smile as you thought about how far you both came “what?” You asked feeling Nate stare at you whilst your eyes stayed on Sidney who was teaching them to drive the boat “just thinking about how much I love you.” Nate shrugged hooking his fingers under your chin so he could kiss you.

The moment was sweet until you heard the scoff “lovebirds if I’m free child care then whatever this is, is off the menu tonight!” Sid’s complaint made you both laugh as you rested your head on Nate’s shoulder, you were home.

#nate mackinnon imagines #nathan mackinnon imagines #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey oneshots #amber writes fics

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 3 months

Text

Your Lips, My Lips

requested?: no pairing(s): nishimura riki x gn!reader genre: fluff fluffity fluff fluff fluff warning(s): fluff (thats literally it), small mentions of reader's gender, but it isnt really specified (riki calls reader m'lady) summary: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘪 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 word count: 554 a/n: two posts in two days, *le gasp*. i did this while watching the england v denmark match nd icl they started to piss me off so i had to tune myself out for a few seconds to finish this. there might be another fic later tonight if you are lucky (or if i am just feeling lazy or not) but yeah:). remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!

you and riki never really had time alone together. you with school (that you actually attended) and riki with enhypen. but, the rare times you were left alone together without the rest of the members, you both made it count.

you would both go on small but cute dates, whether it be in a fancy restaurant or just in eachother’s arms and watching a movie. either way, you made it count. this time though, you had both decided to go on a late night walk, something that wasn’t very uncommon for the two of you, but felt a lot more domestic and romantic this time.

you and riki were walking through a field, with small daisies scattered around it. it was summer time, so it practically showed how late it was, as it was dark out. it wasn’t dark enough so that you couldn’t make eachother out, but you could just about make out shapes in the distance, so you couldn’t see that well. a few times you had almost fallen, so riki had to keep you up, keeping an arm wrapped around your shoulders, and occasionally switching to your waist, just to make sure you didn’t fall.

you were both laughing and talking about your lives, when you felt small drops of rain. initially, you brushed it off, thinking it will just stop soon as it wasn’t forecast, but when it started to get worse, you looked at riki. you both stood there in silence for a few seconds before breaking out into your own bright smiles.

“may i have this dance, m’lady?” riki asks, outstretching his hand and placing the other behind his back, bowing slightly.

“you may” you smile, taking his hand and curtseying slightly.

riki instantly brought you into his chest, holding your waist and your hand, swaying the both of you slightly. you were both in your own words as the rain splashed against your bodies, but you didn’t care. the fact that you were both pressed against eachother’s bodies was protecting you both from getting cold.

after around ten minutes, and loads of twirls (in which you tried to twirl riki, but it ended up turning out horribly due to his height), you both pulled away. you smiled up at riki, and he smiled down at you.

“how are we meant to get home?” you ask softly, riki still had a hold of your hand, bringing it up to his mouth and pecking your knuckles, before raising both of the hands above your head, signalling for you to twirl.

you giggled as he did so, your hair fanning out with you before sticking back to your face again. riki smiled down at you and leaned down, completely ignoring your question and kissing you. he kisses you sweetly. it wasn’t overly passionate, but not bland, it was loving. just the right amount of love. not long after, he pulled away.

“I could call jake?” he suggests, you smile at the idea.

“you sure your phone isn’t soaked?” you chuckle, riki proves you wrong by plucking his phone out and finding jake’s contact, bringing the phone up to his ear.

it was safe to say jake scolded the two of you a little, but you both fell asleep in eachother’s arms that night, relying on eachother to keep yourselves warm.

#nishimura riki #nishimura riki x reader #riki fluff #enhypen riki #kpop

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skzooe · 1 year

Note

i absolutely love the lipstick stain trend!

i need a part 3 with junhyeon in it, pretty pleasee

you are doing great, keep up the good work! :)

lipstick stain trend,,💌 p.3

BOYS PLANET

p.1 p.2 p.3

with; taerae, keita, kamden, gyuvin, junhyeon, matthew

[note;; i waffled towards the end bc i ran outa ideas but not sure if this is still in trend so sorry for the wait!! ❣️]

for those who don't know 💋💋💋

taerae;

such a romantic guy

will place roses and candles around you to "set the mood" of the video

HE'S SO EXTRA I LOVE HIM

"waitwait, we need more flowers"

a perfectionist fr

he's so into it as you place kiss marks on his face

you can just tell how he's trying to hide his huge smile

honestly fighting the urge to kiss you back

he couldn't help it, so he ran his thumb across your stained red lips, holding your hips for support

turns into a LONG ASS makeout sesh

you both pull away and hes just staring at you with love in his eyes and just smiles so beautifully 😭

“i could spend the whole day doing just this.”

(promoting my taerae picnic date fic bc why not🤷‍♀️)

keita;

when you show him the video he gets SO SMILEY

his smile literally lights up the whole room its so cute

how could he say no

when you cup his face and start kissing him he literally WONT STOP SMILING

"your lips are so soft"

he loves it too much that he starts giggling like a girl uncontrollably

when you finish the video he just blurts out the most random things

"I LOVE YOU SO MUCH"

"I'M SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU"

is he drunk???????

tight cuddles and kisses straight after bc he's just like that

kamden;

we already know how kamden is

he's an average user on tiktok so he might know about it already

so when you ask him he's just like: 🙂🧍‍♂️

he doesn't really mind since he's down for anything with you

"im down"

he just sits there in silence as you pepper kisses on his face

he doesn't really make eye contact with you because he's SO SHYY

when you start giving kisses on his neck, he gets so flustered and his ears turn red

he didn't want you to see how red he was, so he pulled you in and cuddled you as tight as he could on his chest

you noticed his ears which you found adorable

"you're so cute when you're flustered"

"you make me lose control."

(honestly got me kicking my feet while writing this icl)

gyuvin;

sooooo clingy

physical touch king

would do ANYTHING to spend more time w you

"do you-"

"YES."

dawg im not done talking?????

while you put on the lipstick you picked out, gyuvin is just laying on your lap playing with the strings of your hoodie

istg he's never separating from you

cup his cheeks and he will MELTT

you try to kiss his cheek, but he swerves his lips onto yours 🤧

he thought he was so slick with it

"i really, really want to kiss you again"

as you're about to lay kisses on his cheek, he pulls you close and places his lips onto yours

only bc he just cant get enough of your touch

goes on for ageeeessss

you both pull out with heavy breaths, looking so flushed and dizzy with pink cheeks

he has smudged lipstick all over his mouth which you find so cute

he just chuckles

"you got lipstick all over me"

junhyeon;

you're sat on the counter of the kitchen as junhyeon heats up his food

you stumble across a video of the trend which you found soo cute

you show him and he is just so goofy and confident about it🤧

"do you wanna do this?"

"SAY LESS"

you get the lipstick from your bag and apply it to your lips while he approaches you

he's hovering over you with hands on the counter, each on your sides

as you're kissing his face, you accidentally smudge one which makes him whinee

"i think i deserve a kiss."

he's smirking sooo slyly

he puts his hand on your waist as he pulled in close

you're both lost in the moment as he says

"i wanted to do this so damn bad"

(the food hello??????)

matthew;

you're both snuggled up on the couch watching tiktoks together when you both come across this trend you wanted to try out

matthew rushes to get your lipstick because he's so committed to helping you

he's so sweet about it that he won't stop asking questions

"is this colour okay?"

"does my outfit look good?"

"should i fix the lighting?"

you tug on his collar to apply the lipstick onto his face

which makes him sooo shy and cute

his ears automatically turn red in which he tries to hide with a smile

as you film the video, he just looks at you with a huge smile

"you look heavenly."

literally cant take your eyes off you

the comments go WILDD

💬: find me a man that looks at me like that

💬: HE'S INLOVE

mattew will treasure that video FOREVER

shares it to everyone he knows. his friends, his family, EVERYONE

"was that okay? i'd love to do that again"

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astr0exe · 6 months

Note

Heyyy, I just like read all your fics, and was EXCITED to see that your requests are open. So I was wondering if you could comfort w/ John Price (Husband). Reader going home, from work or something, needing his husband and just some comfort after a bad day :3

And FLUFF make it FLUFFY

Please and Thank you!!

It might be sad but I've been single for a bit and need that relationship comfort again 😔

THIS TURNED INTO SOMETHING ELSE ?! BUT I ACC LOVE IT ICL <3 (this turned into some full in poem typa shit) also turned into gender neutral reader

Hey ml !! Ur so real for that i get it <3 cause same, messages are always open if anyone ever needs to talk 🫶🏻🫶🏻 ALSO ignore the fact I had like died im back ish been busy n really burnt out n watching the aus gp cause i have a problem

Husband!Price who just sighs softly, wrapping his arms around you as you slouch into his body as soon as you walk through the door. Not even taking off your shoes or coat, just clutching Price’s shirt tightly.

His eyes narrow at the waves of pure exhaustion which shows in your dull eyes. His strong arms are tight around you, keeping you grounded and protected. A safe space, where you can finally let your shoulders drop and the tears flow. A home where you can smile and laugh, a place where you know, that no matter what, you will be supported and loved. Because John has worked so hard on making sure you know you are loved, through everything he will be there for you. Those horrible days at work, the overwhelming stress you often feel, for every little positive and negative he will be there for you. Because you are his moon and he is your star.

“You’re safe my love, here in my arms you will always be protected.” John murmurs softly in your ear, his deep voice reverberating through your body and soul, the slow soft sigh that leaves your lips as your fingers untangle from his shirt, a quiet apology leaves you lips from the new found wrinkles on his perfect shirt. Everything about your husband is perfect in your eyes, his light salt and pepper hair which he blames on you lovingly, his smile which still makes your heart race and head spin even after being married for 5 years. In your eyes he can do no wrong, because he is your star. And you are his moon.

Your slight smile relaxes John, his eyes full of affection and love. He is enamoured and he is proud to admit that you, his husband, is the light of his life, his moon. He knows that through everything, you will always be together. The adoration you both feel for each other is immense, endless. Just like the moon and the stars.

The soft bed envelopes you both, the familiar comfort mixes with Johns hold perfectly, his body against yours as you both just lay down, unable to bring the words to fill the room. The love too pure for anyone to properly understand, no one will ever fully understand it, it’s far too complex for any love story. But it’s yours. The moon and the stars are always seen together no matter what. Forever and always.

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sgojoenthusiast · 1 year

Text

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY ONE: BLOOD SUCKER.

✧.* satoru gojo x reader.

summary: Desperate to survive, Satoru Gojo stumbles upon the wrong home as he trudges through the forest, injured and alone.

cw: blood, blood sucking, injuries, sub! gojo, fem reader, biting, p in v, oral (m! recieving), begging, both gojo and reader are whipped icl, cowgirl/ riding, 'good boy',

word count: 4.1k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

-`♡´-

The sound of the entrance to your home being slammed shut, followed by a heavy thud and the piercing sound of glass shattering snaps you out of your daze. An inkling of curiosity sparks within you. You lived alone, and usually, you'd have to leave the nightmarish comforts of your home in order to find food. Yet today, apparent by the heavy breathing and the scent of blood, it appears food has been delivered to your front door.

Instinctively, you licked your lips at the scent. The delightful, mouth-watering scent that had you up from where you sat, and hurrying silently down the stairs.

You watched the trespasser rummage through your things indiscreetly, looking for something valuable, most likely medical equipment, observable by the bloody gash in his shirt. His breathing was heavy and pained, triggering your fangs to sharpen and your hands clench, your nails drawing your own, iced blood.

You watched him for several moments more, your dead eyes not leaving the sight of his frosty hair and… intriguing hands as they desperately searched for something.

“If you’re looking for medical supplies, I do not keep them in my kitchen.”

A string of cursed exclamations left his lips as the unnamed individual jumped, wincing when the sudden movement caused his injury to shriek in agony. The snowy-haired stranger backed himself into the kitchen cabinets, moving around the kitchen island as you slowly sauntered closer to him.

His face was pale and a layer of sweat covered his forehead. His lips were dry and parted, trying to form a coherent sentence or an excuse for being in your home uninvited. He was shaking, either from terror or the cold night’s bitter hold on his skin. You had half a mind to tear his head from his neck right then and there but his eyes. His eyes were pleading and desperate, melancholic and fragile and yet in their forlorn, desolate state, you saw nothing but a beautiful shade of blue that had you entranced, captured within their conniving grip.

“I-I’m sorry, I had no idea someone lived here-”

Your eyebrows perked up in disbelief at his poor excuse and as a result, he stopped talking before he dug his own grave. Ironic, considering his grave had been dug the moment he stepped foot in your home.

His hands paled the harder he gripped onto the counter, yet the combination of the throbbing ache in his side and the way your gaze had him gulping in fear, he couldn’t help but feel like he had wandered too far into the forest. A shiver ran up his spine and down his arms forming goosebumps at the thought and it wasn’t helping that your stare felt like knives impaling his skin and drawing more blood as though he hadn’t lost enough.

Gojo’s knees felt like they were about to collapse, his arms felt like they couldn’t hold the weight of him against the counter anymore and his head was spinning so fast, he didn’t think he could keep his eyes open anymore. Yet he couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t kill him should he pass out right there, not with a gaze so lethal.

It was strange, he could see you walking slowly towards him, grabbing a knife and dragging it against the surface of the counter, but he couldn’t hear your steps. He could hear everything, the knife against the countertop, his panicked breaths, even the sound of his blood dripping onto the tiles. Yet your feet were like feathers. This made him nervous, it made him feel vulnerable, as though you could snatch up any opportunity where his back was turned to put a knife through his back and he wouldn’t even know until he looked down to see the steel covered in his own blood accompanied by the sudden soreness.

When your face inched closer to his own, and you flashed him a slight, sinister smirk, he caught a fleeting glance at your pointed fangs, resulting in the blood draining from his face. Surely he was seeing things, right? There’s no way–

“Has your village never told you the gruesome tales of the haunted mansion located deep within this very forest, hm?” Gojo shook his head after a few beats, his eyes never staying in the same spot as they roamed over every crevice of your lifeless face. You hummed in understanding, dragging the knife up his arm, light enough not to hurt him, yet threatening enough to send him the message. “Legend has it, if you do manage to leave, it’ll only when your corpse, drained of all its blood, is dragged through those same doors you mistakenly walked through earlier.”

You backed away from him, slotting the knife back in its place. Looking back behind you, to see his horror-stricken features, you added, “But that’s just legend.” You lended him a maliciously gentle smile as you gestured for him to follow you.

Your face had portrayed a look of knowing, when in reality, you had no idea what you were doing. You hadn’t feasted in days, you should have killed him when you had the opportunity. Yet, for some unknown reason, the way he looked at you with dread plastered on his face, it had your legs pressing together and your mouth running dry.

Confusion seeped its way onto his face, not only because you had threatened him and spared him despite the fact he had given you no reason to after lying to his face, but also because he found his feet reluctantly following your footsteps and obeying when you commanded him to sit down when you left the room.

There was nothing but a suspicious, eerie feeling creeping around the room he was in. Fire flickered in the fireplace, the moon peeked intrusively through the bleak curtains and the entire room was drowning in dark colours and a lack of light. Gojo’s eyes scanned the room for any kind of defence or escape, should you attempt an attack, though, he was quickly snapped out of his thoughts as you appeared mysteriously in front of him in the short second he had blinked.

His heart was rattling in his chest, banging against him, trying to tear it’s way from his chest in order to escape from not only the ghostly walls of your home, but the lingering desire deep inside of him that caused his heart to pound and his dick to throb at the sight of you.

In your hands sat a first aid kit, you would sometimes use to lure your prey into a false sense of security. However, for a reason unbeknownst to you, you had no intentions of misleading him or tricking him into thinking he was safe. This scared you slightly, a feeling you were unaccustomed to. You told yourself you were simply nursing him back to health as there was no point in sucking out his blood if there was no blood to suck, because what other reason could there be for an intruder you had met mere moments ago?

“Take off your shirt.”

His face burned bright at your words, forgetting about the gash in his side as his thoughts went to a much more lustful and carnal place. “Sorry?”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes at his obvious flustered state, yet something within you was restraining itself from tearing his shirt off for him. If anything, the idea that he was having similar thoughts to you was exciting and arousing. Nevertheless, you boxed up these thoughts and jailed them in the back of your head.

“I can’t stitch you back up if your shirt is on.”

He looked embarrassed, but gave an understanding nod as he bashfully removed his shirt.

Your face was stoic when you kneeled in front of him, yet his own was anything but emotionless as his wide eyes and pink face betrayed his want to keep his disturbing, inappropriate thoughts to himself. Not to mention his dick, which twitched behind his pants.

He scorned himself for having such ludicrous thoughts, mere moments ago he was cowering and plotting his escape after you had flashed him your abnormally pointed teeth. The dead look on your face, the way your eyes would stare shamelessly at his neck, the tinge of red in your eyes, all of these things were signs that he should run, signs he should have taken the opportunity to make a run for it whilst you were fetching the first aid kit. Yet, it was also these suspicious traits that had him fighting his own lewd thoughts.

As you cleaned his wound, all he could think about was your seemingly delicate yet freezing fingers against his stomach. The thought had him struggling for air as he attempted not to let you see how nervous you made him. There was something so strange about the way you made him tremble in fear despite the overwhelming lust that washed over him.

For the most part, you had been silent, seemingly focussing on the task at hand. However, you had exchanged names, making him feel slightly more at ease, and you had asked him how he’d received such a nasty injury.

He told you about how his village had falsely suspected him of aligning himself with the devil and participating in witchcraft and other inexplicable events, and had exiled him for it, chasing him out over a misunderstanding.

Whilst you hadn’t said anything out of fear of saying the wrong thing or pushing him past his boundaries, you were frustrated with yourself for trying to make small talk in order to distract him from the inevitable pain as by doing so, it benefitted you very little. Why had you taken such a liking to an intruder? He had broken into your home and left a trail of blood in your kitchen. What a waste.

Even so, you felt obligated to touch him with gentle fingers even though just the smell of his blood had your head reeling and made you want to sink your teeth deep into the flesh of his neck, it was unbearable.

You tried your hardest to concentrate, yet the smell of blood, the sound of his heart beating and his shaky breaths, it was all too much.

Never had you backed away faster after you had finished stitching him up, making him flinch slightly at your sudden movements. You bit your lip until you drew blood and then winced at the feeling.

Your back was turned. Gojo approached you attentively, trying not to startle you or make you feel uncomfortable. Though, even though you had heard him rummaging through your kitchen from the fourth floor of your home, you hadn’t heard his nearing breaths and the creaking floorboards behind you before he placed a wary hand on your shoulder.

However, you were immensely disconcerted and plagued with frantic thoughts. The feeling of his hand connecting with you in your current state only resulted in your ravenous thoughts eclipsing your unusual tender feelings towards him.

Suddenly, in an inhumane rush, you had him pinned to the wall so harshly there was a deafening crack and the sound of a picture collapsing to the ground. Your lips met his neck and you struggled to repress your hunger.

Gojo whimpered in pain ever so slightly at the contact of hitting the wall. He couldn’t quite process the situation he was in, thoughts and questions clouding his head. “What-what are you- how did you–”

“I do not know why I can't kill- why I don't want to kill you and it is driving me insane. You barged into my home, broke and attempted to steal my belongings and yet I am nothing but infatuated with you. I fear it is your eyes, they have me in a tight clutch that I cannot escape and I will starve because of it.” You whispered lowly, unable to meet his gaze or focus on anything other than the sound of his blood pumping through his veins.

Gojo swallowed down his fearful noises in fear of provoking you.There was a part of him that felt sympathetic despite the demonic display you had shown, and there was another part of him that longed to help your desperate exhibit after you had selflessly helped him.

Thinking back to your words, he felt a sensation of satisfaction course through him at the idea that he had made you feel so passionately about a complete stranger. He wanted to smile, yet on his cheek was a small cut that made it sting. In the milliseconds between his hand making contact with your shoulder and you shoving him against the wall, he recalls a small prick against his cheek and the blurred sight of your nails, which had mysteriously grown into sharp talons, scratching his cheek as you slapped him in surprise.

The blood from the cut dripped down onto your hand which was gripping his chin heatedly. Your eyes widened at the feeling, your hold on him to tighten as your fangs sharpened when the smell hit your nose.

He should keep quiet, not say anything, yet, he couldn’t bite back his question. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I don’t know.” You replied.

Truthfully, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear after your confession. Everything you had said, he had understood, somewhat related to in some aspects. He wanted nothing more than to feel your lips against his, to forever hear the sound of your voice in his ears, though he realised that wouldn’t be possible should he have his life drained away or if you starved to death.

He took a hesitant breath and tilted his head to the side, allowing you access to his neck. Your eyes widened in surprise as you stepped back, unwilling to hurt him.

“Gojo–”

He gave you a stern look. “Just do it before I change my mind.”

“You’ve already lost a lot of blood.” You reciprocated his harsh gaze, yet behind your lifeless eyes was a glint of fear. “I might kill you"

“You won't.” He reassured you. Of course, he was doubtful and scared and had no clue what he was talking about at all, however, he felt enamoured and captivated by you. Even before he had stumbled his way into his home, it was like fate was keeping him alive and pushing his legs in the direction of your home.

One of his hands slid up your arm and snaked its way into your hair, carefully guiding your head back down towards his neck. You stumbled forward as his hand steered you his way.

Unable to restrain yourself, your teeth slowly seeped into his neck. Gojo winced which caused you to once again become reluctant however his grip on your head tightened before you could pull away.

Gaining more confidence at his willingness, one of your hands found its way to his hair whilst the other gripped tightly at his arm and pawed at his bare chest in desperation, as though you couldn’t get enough.

After a few moments, the stinging feeling became a euphoric one that Gojo couldn’t get enough of. He whimpered slightly, the feeling of your cold skin against his heated skin was a burning contrast that he couldn’t get enough of.

Once you were somewhat satisfied, you pulled away, Gojo’s eyes were lidded and he looked pale, yet there was a prominent, lazy smirk on his face regardless of the fact you would have sucked him free of his blood if he there wasn’t a feeling of terror lurking even in the most shallow parts inside of you.

Contrary to what you believed, his features weren’t tired looking because of what had just occurred, but more so due to the heavy bulge in his pants that was straining for relief. You looked down, and then back at him in shock. All he did was stare back at you audaciously, before taking your cheek in his hand and leaning in ever so slightly.

Your breathing increased in pace when he pulled away, mumbling an apology. Your mind was reeling with all the consequences of what would happen should you proceed with what your rotting heart wanted you to do next. However, there wasn’t any other inch of you that cared enough to stop yourself from pulling him back in.

Your lips moved flawlessly against each other. You began to guide Gojo back over to the sofa and sat him down, sitting yourself down over his lap as you continued to kiss him, your lips never leaving his.

You could smell the wound on his neck weeping, and decided to pull away to drag your tongue across his neck, making sure not to waste a single drop after he had offered himself so generously to you. “You taste so sweet, Gojo.”

“F-fuck, call me Satoru, please-”

Shit. How could you deny him when he had asked so nicely? “You taste amazing, Satoru.”

He bucked his hips up against yours, eager for friction.

You traced a slow hand down his chest and towards his pants, tugging them down to free his erection. Both of you were craving one another’s touch as you removed each other’s clothes so swiftly.

Placing yourself between his legs, you dragged your tongue along his shaft. He looked down at you between the strands of his hair with pleading eyes and pouting lips, silently begging you for you to touch him.

But silence wasn’t going to cut it.

“Satoru,” You purred, voice alluring and seductive, roping him further into the mess he was already in, making it far more challenging for him to even think about what he was doing. “Are you going to ask nicely for it, hm?”

You accentuated your words with small kitten licks up his dick, nothing too pleasurable that it would distract him or make him feel too good, but enough to make him yearn for more. Enough to make him want to beg.

“Please. Please, I need it so bad, please suck my dick- ahh-”

You cut him off by taking his tip into your mouth. Satoru was big. You tried not to display your nerves of trying to take all of him in your mouth, but from the look on his face, he was plenty distracted.

His eyes peered down at you and he couldn’t stop the whine that left his lips at the sight of you watching him intently, batting your eyelashes at him innocently as though you didn’t have half his dick shoved down your throat.

Strings of cuss words tied together fell out of his mouth as his hands found their way back to your head and caressed it gently. Your mouth felt unbearably warm around him despite how cold the rest of you was.

He was behaving so well, already understanding who was in charge, and what he could and couldn’t do. You made a mental note to reward him for it later.

You bobbed your head up and down, every so often focussing on his tip after picking up how sensitive he was there and how good it made him feel. Steadily, one of your hands, the other gripping his thigh, made its way up to his balls and began to fondle them, sometimes grazing the base of his dick where your mouth wasn’t sucking.

Everything you did was calculated and specifically to bring him closer and closer to the edge, however, moments before he fell off, you removed your mouth from his dick, denying him his release.

The entire time you had been sucking him off, he had been blaring with the noises he was making, and incredibly extroverted, not shy at all with the whimpers and moans exiting his lips. But now, he was deafeningly silent. The only noises that left his soft lips were the sounds of his laboured breaths and a timid sound of dismay as he looked at you with disappointment and betrayal in his eyes.

In return, you looked up at him feigning confusion. “What’s the matter, Satoru? You’d rather finish in my mouth instead of my pussy, hm? Is that it?”

As though it had never been there, the look of distress that had been framed on his features was absent and long forgotten. You gave him a sky smile of satisfaction, like you knew his answer way before the question was even asked.

Leaving a trail of kisses behind on his thigh and stomach, you made your way back up to straddle him and kissed his jaw and face. Gojo thought your lips felt seraphic and heavenly despite your demonic peculiarity, pointed fangs and thirst for the blood running from his veins. All these attributes could class you as a devil, but to Satoru, you were an angel sent from paradise as you glowed above him with your radiant beauty and blissful touch.

His incessant hands couldn’t keep off your body, which in his eyes was flawless in every aspect. He placed his shaking hands on your hips, still in disbelief that he could.

On the other hand, your mind was overcast with the feeling of your bare cunt sliding and grinding over his dick. Your hands gripped his shoulders as you kissed his cheek, urging him to move his head to the side so you could take yet another look at the wound you had inflicted.

You licked the blood that was still running down his neck as you slid his aching dick inside of you simultaneously. His head rolled back in ecstasy, mewling in pleasure and bucking his hips up to meet yours, thrusting himself fully inside of you.

Your moans matched his as you moved your hips against his own and began to bounce up and down.

“You’ve been such a good boy f’me, Satoru. You know that, hm?” You praised, looking at him with a playful smile and hazy eyes as his head was thrown back. Your hand went to thread your fingers between the strands of his silky, snowed hair and to support his neck. His lips were in a pout and glossy as you examined each of his features with fascination, continuing to ride him.

His expression was one of pure bliss as his lips parted to form a small ‘O’ shape, an array of pretty noises leaving his lips.

His eyes were screwed shut, much to your dismay. You loved the way his eyes sparkled like the sun reflecting in the ocean, an ocean you suspected to have drowned in about a hundred times by now.

His hair was stuck to his forehead, his skin was glistening and his neck was bloodied. He had never looked so perfect.

Your hips were relentless and fucking quick. Working his dick so ruthlessly in order to bring you both to release. His dick never failed to hit the spot within you that had you gasping for air, digging your nails into his shoulder and gripping at his hair harshly with your other hand.

Satoru’s head fell into your shoulder, babbling about how he was so close. You continued with that same pace, encouraging him and yourself close to release, and when you did, it was in sync and pure bliss.

You clenched around him, milking his dick completely as he emptied himself inside of you, giving himself to you entirely in every way.

Both of you sat there for a few moments, you straddling him with your arms around his neck and his head in your shoulder, not saying a word, just trying to catch your breaths. Simply enjoying one another’s presence. Yet, the inevitable had to be addressed at some point.

“What now?” You asked, a tinge of sorrow in your voice at the thought that he may leave, the thought that he should leave.

His face spoke more than his voice, and you heard every word of it. He wanted to stay, but he shouldn’t, you wouldn’t let him.

“It will benefit you very little staying here with me. You should find somewhere new, we do not have similar ways of living and it will only result in conflict.”

“Not unless we try.” He claimed, voice plagued with hope and positivity. In response, you only gave him a serious look, begging him to look at things from a more realistic point of view, yet his optimism would not budge.

“You will be unhappy.”

Disbelief shadowed his features, now, it was his turn to give you that look of seriousness. “Only should you not let me stay here with you, as I have nowhere else to go.”

He kissed up your shoulder, making his way to your jaw and instinctively, you tilted your head to the side and gave him access to your throat for him to begin sucking and kissing. “Plus, you owe me for this injury, remember.”

He emphasised his words with a bite on your throat and you could feel his devilish grin against your skin. You pulled him back gently by his hair and then cupped his cheeks in your hand, placing a tender kiss on his soft lips, smiling. “I suppose I do.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed!! i'm not sure how i feel about how this played out considering i'm much better at writing about the events up to them fucking rather than the actual smut but if you liked this one, you should check out this miguel o'hara fic!!

�� ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

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