#i see all the tags you guys leaving and response to this is huge a lot bigger than i expected

[hl-obsessed]

x / x / x / x / x

harry in rose hoodie

❗🆕 ✨ ot5 ✨ 🆕❗

harry in 28 jacket

turtleneck + love bite!!!

harry in pink shirt

harry in green ! jersey !

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist:

@figsnpassionfruits @marcybug @sacred-holy-light @keigohawks @rockytheluver @parasiiite @iluvstrawberry @18lkpeters @daydreamin1220 @hoesformenotforyou @ninuwrites @chaoticpaintsplatter @red-jay @sweet1squash @here2bawl @silversprings-mp3 @leathargic @issylovessharks @serenewrote @jakegyllenbaalz @whore-for-marvel@cookiesandcreammoolkshake @what-did-you-just-say @demitralover @midnight036 @lanassmarty @sugarrushbell @kitomon @lysmeadows @halpin4 @rebelmarylou @jupitersiberis @ginamcflurry @dilflover-420 @blubobbi @midsommarmayqueen911 @popsickle1235 @jairmi @maxx205 @kmc217 @callmejod @bellaaa32 @suiien @whiskytoast @zeeader @jasmines-greentea @malfoys-demigod @poplottie @navs-bhat @argos-13 @marvelreadingarchive @krisslegacy @chassidypowell24 @godness-gracious13 @hpttsa @fandomsunited @sseleniaa @vampuck @veetallla @chasedbyatlantic @fluffy-anna @deaky-with-a-c

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself. 

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac. 

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services. 

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself. 

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface. 

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation. 

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true) 

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier. 

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work. 

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful. 

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me? 

Yes, he can hear you. 

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep. 

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail. 

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train. 

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think. 

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room. 

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway. 

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively. 

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in. 

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him? 

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse. 

— Where do you want me to start, sir? 

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry. 

— The living room. If it’s not too much. 

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker. 

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless. 

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch? 

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it. 

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes. 

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit. 

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left. 

— Alright. Anything else? 

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway. 

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself. 

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you. 

And he only knew you for an hour tops. 

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours? 

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits. 

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service. 

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember. 

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body. 

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died. 

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad. 

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be. 

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face. 

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself. 

— What is it, liebling? 

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss. 

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him. 

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow. 

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already. 

He might not even let you go after. 

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment. 

— Alright. I will do it right away then. 

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless. 

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside. 

— I will divide everything into categories, alright? 

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces. 

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is. 

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely. 

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate. 

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. 

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in. 

[kamaluhkhan]

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes. 

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him. 

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer. 

"i should be asking you that." 

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return. 

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity. 

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?” 

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay. 

“i’m fine,” he reassured. 

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod. 

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.” 

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else. 

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand. 

“always.” 

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch. 

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday. 

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her. 

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way. 

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music. 

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink." 

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you. 

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole. 

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” 

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip. 

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” belly orders. 

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.” 

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into. 

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else. 

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other. 

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped. 

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period. 

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected. 

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop. 

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie. 

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag. 

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score. 

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly. 

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.” 

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out. 

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go. 

and, just like that, the moment is gone. 

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside. 

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

[ellavatorz]

Kiss me Plenty || c.b. x reader

summary: you play the “I can’t stop kissing you,” prank on colby.

tags/cw: implied smut, kisses (lots of ‘em), tooth-rotting sweet fluff, established relationship, youtuber(s) relationship.

a/n: there isn’t much for me to say except that I have a very strong yearn for colby to be kissed 24/7. if that man isn’t being kissed at every second of the day like he deserves, then the world is a cruel joke of a place.

and a huge thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last work, you guys are so sweet T.T happy holidays!

- - -

You have the camera set up first thing in the morning. It’s hidden out of visible-sight and is focused on Colby’s usual spot; his desk, where he normally films intros to videos amongst other tasks in respect to his shared channel with Sam.

The plot of your video to be filmed today is explained to your audience. All while a grin is spread on your lips. “Today’s goal is to annoy the shit out of Colby by kissing the hell out of him. I don’t know how he’ll react considering he’s hyper-affectionate as it is… but its also normally something he does rather than me initiating it. So maybe he’ll suspect something right off the bat? Who knows!”

By the time Colby has migrated from your shared bed to his desk, you’re just outside the door, anxiously prepared for whatever may come of the situation. Without much of an extravagant entrance, you move toward where he is and stand behind him. His eyes are glued to the screen and you pretend to seem intrigued by whatever it is he’s looking at.

A yawn escapes his mouth as he reaches an arm behind himself, subconsciously searching for any part of you to grasp onto and reel in. “Good morning, baby.” He rasps, last night’s rest still grappling at his body.

“Morning,” you reply, allowing him to pull you closer. You take this as an advantage to wrap your arms around his shoulders from where you now stand beside him. “What are you working on today?”

Colby’s gaze is still caught on the screen when his own arm is snaked around your waist. His eyes flicker from one end to another, clearly focused on whatever he’s reading. “Just emails right now. I have a bit of review and editing tasks to get done on the apparel website too..”

“Ah, I see.” You sigh. Your eyes flash a mischievous glint toward the camera before you begin leaning into his space to plant a soft peck to his cheek. “Do you need anything? Water? Snacks?”

Still enraptured by work, he acknowledges your question half-heartedly. “No, love. Thank you though.”

You feign a frown at his response and begin swaying his chair left to right when the hold on your waist is replaced by the computer’s mouse. He scrolls through several pages, reading what he can manage to as you continue rocking his chair.

“What time do you think you’ll be done?” You question innocently, though you both are aware that his work is capable of enveloping the entirety of his day. He shrugs, too focused to respond. You take this as an opportunity to leave a kiss on the crown of his head, moving behind his chair to loosely circle your arms around his neck. “I think I’m gonna finish my Christmas shopping while you’re still here.”

He hums and it’s evident that he isn’t regarding your presence to the full extent that it’s normally at. You huff and lean over his shoulder to litter butterfly-light kisses along the side of his neck. He unconsciously cranes his neck, providing you with more access to the skin.

“Shouldn’t you come and eat breakfast first? You haven’t eaten anything.” You ponder aloud, and this time, he shakes his head.

“I’m fine, babe.“ he mutters, eyes squinting in the analysis of his emails. Your tongue comes out to swipe at your lips, wetting them before leaning further into his space and kissing him straight on the mouth. At this, he cocks his head to the side, granting you access for more.

You continue to press into him, feeling accomplished when you realize that now he’s fully focused on you. The kiss is languid and feels good enough to praise, but before you can fully enjoy it, Colby is pulling away with a pitiful smile. You don’t even have to question him because he’s apologizing in an instant.

“I’m sorry, petal. I really have to get these things done. I promise as soon as I get this out of the way, I’m all yours.” He says and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart. God, he really is the cutest. With the way his eyes glimmer at you, you’re confident with the idea that this man could un-alive your childhood pet and get away with it by just looking at you with those damned ocean eyes.

“Just a minute more?” shaking off the thought of ending the video early out of awe for your boyfriend, you continue your antics. You plead instead, batting your lashes tauntingly while returning to his side.

He blinks owlishly at you and ultimately accepts, pulling you into his lap by the hips and allowing you to straddle him comfortably. You grin, wasting no time and diving straight in for a passionate kiss. His hands snake around you to land on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze to which you groan into his lips for.

For a second, you’re convinced that this moment would last for an eternity with the pace that he’s taking. Theres not a doubt that he’d absolutely waste an entire day just to kiss you, and in this case you want this to be one of those days. His kiss is smooth, gentle, yet fierce and meaningful. Your hands move on their own accord; one pressing into the broad of his chest and the other entangling into his hair.

There’s a moan serenading your ears after a few rough tugs to the strands on his head. However, before you know it, he’s giving you one last playful tug to your lip and placing a good space between the two of you. While you’re grateful for this moment to breathe, you also fall clueless as to why the hell he stopped.. until, of course, you remember that you’re filming a video, and he’s working. Hello!

“Do you know how distracting you can be?” Colby chuckles, and you take a few seconds to take in his appearance; hair tussled, eyes dark and dilated, lips swollen with a few teeth indentations caused due to your own accord. You almost want to spend the rest of the video admiring your work, but conclude that the show must go on.

“What ever do you mean, coleslaw?” You quip, pushing against his hands from where they’ve been placed on your shoulders to distance you from him.

He immediately motions for you to get off of him, his hands already shoving at your chest. “Coleslaw? You’re done. Get off of me.”

You laugh and reluctantly remove yourself from his lap only to make an attempt at lifting him up with you. As if knowing exactly what you’re about to do, he drops his weight into his chair. You grunt, tugging on his arms with all your might. He doesn’t budge.

“Baby,” you whine, and add a childish stomp for emphasis. “Can’t you just take today off to spend time with me? Please?”

He falls limp at your words, tossing his head back against the chair’s headrest and huffs in thought. “We already hung out yesterday. The entire day! What do you want to do anyway?”

Pouting, you take advantage of his loose posture to throne his lap once more. Again, circling his neck with your arms and trying to pull him impossibly closer. Though, he does his best to keep a stoic expression and an emotional stiffness to prevent persuasion.

“I miss you,” the words seemingly fall on deaf ears as he remains unfazed, eyes wandering around the room; in other words, anywhere but you. “..just wanted to kiss you today.. but i guess you don’t want my kisses. guess I’ll just find someone else who does—“

His sigh mimics one of defeat. His hold on your tightens in protectiveness, as if afraid you may be taken from him. You begin to feel that bubble of mischief rising to your cheeks, tugging your lips into a smile. Yes! It’s working!

“One more kiss, and i seriously have to get back to work, okay?” He gambles, and suddenly your smile is fading into a frown. He directs his stare back to you, a small quirk at the corner of his mouth. “What, isn’t that what you want? Take it or leave it, baby.”

You bare your teeth in grimace, eyes twinkling with competitiveness before you dive in. Planting your lips on his, you nip and lap at the opening he gives you. Without much hesitance, he’s reciprocating in eagerness. Your tongues dance in the heat of the moment, teeth clashing with force. It’s clear how much you two want each other. And it’s even more evident just how far you’re willing to go for it.

“God, what’s gotten into you?” He manages to slur through the daze you’ve entrapped him in. The intimacy in the kiss exceeds even deeper when you apply pressure against his crotch, gaining a desperate reaction in return. He whimpers against your lips, bringing you impossibly closer to his form as he ruts against you.

“just.. really.. want.. you.” Your voice tapers off into a moan with each breath you take in between. And that’s when you realize. Oh shit. he’s hard.

A probing feeling at your clothed entrance is all it takes for you to pull back and freeze, hands instantly darting for the camera from where it was hidden just a few minutes ago. You focus the rest of the footage toward you, regarding your boyfriend’s lustful daze as a sign to come clean. Placing one hand on his cheek while the other holds the camera, you give a breathy and worried giggle.

“Are you—“ you start, motioning toward the evident tent in his sweats. His eyes waver from your face for a mere second to assess the situation before returning to you. “Colby?”

“Is this is a prank?” He mumbles, cocking his head toward the camera in your hand. You nod, curtaining your smile by placing a palm over your mouth. “Oh,”

“Colby, It’s a prank. I didn’t expect it to go this far!” You admit, and suddenly the giddiness you had been shielding from escaping you throughout the video is released. You laugh in embarrassment. “Oh my gosh. Guys, if you saw anything…. No you didn’t. Haha! But seriously, my poor baby suffered today so if you enjoyed the video, be sure to like and subscribe. Until next time, bye!”

The moment the video comes to an end, Colby is cursing you up and down for the scheme you had hidden from him. However, his scolding shortly concludes with a soft, and admittedly disappointing, “—had me all excited..”

“Oh my poor baby,” you coo, both of you now free from an audience’s presence via camera. Holding his face in your hands, you apply pressure to his cheeks, forcing his lips to pucker when you go in for a gentle kiss. “‘M sorry. The fans really wanted to see what you’d do.”

“Well now they know, so can we please not do that again. you’re very irresistible and convincing you know that?”

You press a gentle peck to his cheek and huff. “Yeah I’ve heard it a few times from my boyfriend.”

“Wow. I feel bad for your boyfriend.” Colby jokes playfully.

“Do you? Hm. Guess I should be a little nicer to him.”

“Maybe.” He pouts his lips toward you, proceeding to lift you from where the two of you sit on his office chair. Your legs wrap around his middle as he travels toward your shared bed. “I think your boyfriend deserves it.”

“I think so too,” you smile. Continuing from where you had left off, you both spend the rest of the morning doing exactly as you begged for; spending the day together. And making out, of course. And maybe a little more than that.

[angelyuji]

mr. pines

stanley pines x f!reader

reader needs a job really badly and stanford pines gives her a job... with a couple conditions.

tw // noncon, power imbalance, older man/younger woman, old man stan being gross, slight misogyny (mostly the pet names), also plss lmk if i missed anything

18+!!!!!!!! pls!!! pls!!! mind the tw and tags (also this is posted on my ao3 acc as well!)

you’ve been scrounging around for a job since you moved to gravity falls. finally, after a couple of months of begging around, the diner waitress, susan, had told you that the stan pines might be hiring at the mystery shack. you had promised the landlord that you’d give them the rent as soon as you find a job, but you can tell they were getting tired of letting you stay rent free.

you had walked to the mystery shack, only a 15-minute walk from the apartment. when you walk in, you’re hit with the smell of sandalwood and glue. you walk over to the red-headed teenager at the cashier stand.

“hey, uh- lazy susan said you guys were hiring?” she looks up from her phone to think for a second.

“oh really? um i guess you can check with stan. his office is right down the hall. he should be in there right now.” she points down the dark hallway to your right and goes right back to her phone. you thank her and she gives you a smile in response. goosebumps rise on your skin as you walk down the eerie, dark hallway. you were starting to second guess your choice of jobs, but you knock on the office door before you chicken out.

“come in.” a gruff voice calls from inside. you swallow and open the door.

“hi! i’m here to apply for a job at the mystery shack.” you smile and shut the door behind you. the only light in the room from the windows in the office. he hums and doesn’t say anything. he gestures to the chair next to him. you sit down and look around the messy office. a taxidermized animal head, a statue of an owl, a huge safe, all sorts of odd things litter the office.

“what are some of your qualifications?” he grunts out, surprising you. you list out your old jobs and hand over the resume that you brought. he gives it a once-over before tossing it into the trash can next to him.

“oh i needed that ba-” he holds a hand up and you shut your mouth. you don’t say anything as he leans back in his chair.

“you’ve got potential, (y/n).” he nods, “but… i don’t really want to pay anyone and it doesn’t seem like we really need the people all that much.” he shrugs.

you start to panic, reaching out and grabbing his hand, “please, mr. pines. i really need this job.” you beg and you watch him think for a couple minutes before smiling.

he clears his throat, “you know what, sweetheart? come back after the shack is closed, then we’ll talk about a job.” he stands up, your hands falling back to your sides, and you realize how much taller he was than you, how much more intimidating he was.

you pause to think, but realizing you have no other choice, “sure, i guess i’ll be back around 10 then.” he opens the door, but takes up most of the exit. you squeeze out from around him.

“i’ll see you then, sweetcheeks.” you feel eyes on your ass as you leave the shack. unfortunately, time goes by quickly and you’re back at the mystery shack. your stomach turns, warning you to make the right choice. you quietly go inside and notice that only the lights in stan’s office were on.

you fumble through the shop to the closed door. “hello?” you knock. mr. pines calls out for you to come in. you enter and you see him sitting on his desk, waiting for you. you clear your throat, “hi mr. pines.” he quirks an eyebrow at you and gets up. you force yourself to not back away as he comes closer to you. he walks past you and closes the door. you hear the quiet click of the lock and you feel chills go down your spine. alarms start going off in your head as he goes back and collapses into the chair. he leans back in his chair, groaning.

“so, you want a job here?” stan raises an eyebrow. you nod, “hmm… maybe i can help you, dollface.”

you let out a sigh in relief, “thank you so much, mr. pines. i’ll do anything, i really need this job.”

“anything, huh.” he nods with a smirk. you nod, eagerly.

“i’ll scrub walls, wash your car, or work from open to close! i will do literally anything!”

“you don’t have to do anything like that, sugarpie” you tilt your head, suddenly hearing the pet names. “you’ll just have to do a small little favor for me.” you don’t respond, hoping he’d explain. he gestures for you to come closer. you walk over to his desk and he turns the chair to face you. “kneel down for me.”

you awkwardly giggle, “what?” mr. pines looks at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

“kneel down.” he stands up, you feel your heart drop. stan pines towers over you and grabs a fistful of your hair. he pushes you down and you yelp as your scalp stings. you try to crawl away, but he doesn’t let go of your hair. he uses one hand to unbuckle his belt and let his pants drop. his cock hangs, big and girthy. your eyes go wide.

“mr. pines. please, don’t. i don’t want to do this.” you beg, feeling the panic rise and tears start to well up in your eyes. he looks down at you with a smirk, but let’s go. you scramble up and back against the wall. he sits back down, nonchalantly.

“fine, you can leave, sweetheart.” he shrugs. you back away quickly, hoping to get out of the office as fast as possible. “but…” you pause as your hand touches the doorknob, “you need me, baby. suzie told me about you: new girl with no job, relentless landlord, and not a single friend in town.” he laughs, deep and unsettling.

“fuck. you. i’m going to the cops and i’ll tell them what you did.” you turn and glare, voice dripping in malice. you twist the doorknob, planning to get the hell out of the place.

he stares at you, a smirk resting on his face. you felt frozen in place. “and what then? the people of gravity falls know me, toots. they know of my… reputation. they’re gonna tell you that you should’ve known better. i mean,” he barks out a laugh, “you came to the mystery shack after hours to see me. you should’ve known.” your hand drops from the doorknob. you stare at your feet. “i could help you, (y/n). i’ll pay you good money as long as you meet my requests.” you look up, tears dripping down your face, and stan smiles. he gestures for you to come closer. you, reluctantly, come back to stand in front of him. you make sure to keep your eyes away from his undone pants.

“what-what do you want me to do?” you sniffle. with surprising gentleness, he grabs your hand and helps you to your knees. he cups your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“all you have to do is do what i say. it’s a win-win situation, toots.” you start to feel yourself going numb. his hand leaves your face and he leans back. you inch closer, carefully placing your hands on his thighs. you move one hand up to gingerly wrap it around his cock. you hear him grunt at your touch and your vision starts to blur as your tears flow harder. you steady yourself on his thigh and stroke his dick.

stan groans, but you hear more irritation than arousal. “you don’t have to be so gentle, sweetheart. it won’t bite.” he growls. you swallow back the bile rising in your throat and tighten your grip a little more. with each stroke, stan’s grunts progressively louder. you watch as pre-cum leaks from his tip and feel his dick get harder with every stroke. but as you feel his thighs tense, stan grabs your hand.

“come closer.” he rasped. you inch closer, “i need you to open your mouth, sweetheart.” you hold back a gag and shake your head. stan grabs you by the chin and pulls you closer, you tighten your lips. stan chuckles before letting go of your chin to pinch your nose. your eyes widen, unable to think or breathe. you open your mouth to take a breath and stan lets go of your nose to shove two fingers into your mouth. you gag around his thick fingers, “you are just so beautiful, dollface, i can’t wait to use you every day.” he whispered and you feel a sudden wave of heat in your lower belly. he pulls his fingers out and you try to look away, but stan’s hand tangles itself in your hair. your eyes trail down from his face to his other hand, gripping his thick cock.

“wait-” you choke out, but stan pulls your head forward and plows himself into your mouth. he moves your head frantically, you choke and gargle as saliva and pre-cum drips down your throat and face. tears flow freely from your eyes as you were used as a worthless sex toy. you can feel yourself getting wetter and you feel disgusted.

“oh god, sugar, you feel so good. so. fucking. good.” he groans out, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. you could feel the tip of his dick almost going down your throat. you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you hit stan’s thighs, praying for a reprieve. you swallow around stan’s cock, trying to bring yourself back to consciousness, and stan moans. “oh, fuck,” stan’s hips stutter and he pushes your head down. your nose hits his springy, gray, pubic hair and you can feel his cock pulse as he cums down your throat. his hand loosens from your hair and you lurch backwards, gagging at the leftover taste of his bitter, salty, hot cum. you stumbled to the ground, leaning back against the wall, with your knees pressed to your chest.

“oh god, oh god.” you sob. stan gets up, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. he gets his wallet out and tosses forward a couple hundred-dollar bills. “consider this your signing bonus.” he pulls something out of his drawer and tosses a contract in front of you. “once you sign this, you’re a full-time mystery shack employee.” he walks to the door and opens it to leave, but looks back at you, “you’re a good lay, toots. i’ll see you tomorrow at 6. don’t be late.” he turns and walks out, leaving you shivering and humiliated.

[youthereader]

Andy bends you over his desk.

pairing: andy barber (defending jacob) x assistant fem!reader

summary: 1.9k words. andy reprimands you for wearing an inappropriate skirt at work.

rating: e; smut, barebacking, semi-public sex, some praise kink, boss-employee relationship, spanking

a/n: not the usual here but this idea got the best of me.

You consider your working relationship with Andy to be a friendly one. You talk about the weather, some sports, a restaurant opening in town. It’s light and fun and it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had, being his assistant.

Because of this, you care a lot about him on a deeper level, too, and it probably crosses into unprofessionalism, but it doesn’t hurt anyone since nobody knows you’re harboring a huge crush on him. And it makes sense! He’s so handsome, and so smart without being condescending, something you’re not used to. Your Hinge dates are downright depressing at times because you keep comparing everyone of them to your boss. You think to yourself, why can’t they be more like Andy?

It's only natural to daydream about him taking you out instead of those disappointing guys, and it’s harmless fun. There was the one time he caught you looking at him when you sat by his side in a meeting, your pen poised to take notes, and he winked at you. It made you feel all warm and giggly, your cheeks flushing as you pressed your lips together to smother your mirth.

You start buying new clothes, justifying them as work purchases, knowing you’re picking things you hope Andy will appreciate. The most daring is a short leather skirt with a slit that comes up mid-thigh, and you specifically choose to wear it on a day you know Andy plans to dedicate to being in the office, his paperwork having got away from him. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to grab his attention, and then you’ll open your app at the end of the day to find someone more realistic, more tangible, and then ride the high of confidence into the weekend. It’s a win-win situation.

You rise from your desk as he walks in, greeting him with coffee, and his eyes drop immediately to your legs when he picks up his Styrofoam cup. He blinks twice, his response delayed.

“Good morning.”

He glances at his watch, muttering a curse word before he departs. It’s not what you hoped for, but it’s not nothing, either. You get back to your computer and answer the phone. Andy doesn’t leave for a couple hours and when he reappears, he’s on his cell phone, distracted, barely looking at you.

Maybe he’s not a leg guy? Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re cute?

You try not to feel let down by this, plodding along, until he comes back a bit before noon, your eyes meeting as he passes through.

“Any messages?”

“Yes,” you reply, retrieving your notepad. “I told them you’d call them back. Also, your dentist keeps playing phone tag-”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Uh, yeah. Please call Dr. Fisher back and apologize to her. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to say when I finally see her.”

“Plaque not top of your priorities?” you tease, sinking back into your chair, swivelling in it to face your monitor once more.

You catch his eyes following your movements, and you’re suddenly far more aware of your skin. You pick up the phone receiver.

“Just call her back, please,” he says, not matching your tone.

He sounds almost impatient with you, which has never happened before. You nod, going quiet. You do as you’re told, and the receptionist sighs on the other end of the line, rescheduling for you yet again.

“There’s a cancellation fee.”

“Yes, he is aware,” you reply. “And he sends his apologies.”

“Tell him it’s not good enough.”

You won’t do any such thing; he’d fire you for sticking your nose in his business like that. Frankly, it’s not up to anyone to pass judgement on Andy, knowing what he’d been through in the past few years. If his working life took over everything for him to cope with all the rest, that makes a lot of sense to you.

“Uh-huh.”

When you hang up, you sigh, glancing at the calendar. He doesn’t have many spaces for anything other than meetings. You hope he has some time for himself, even if it’s just a couple hours a day. You remind yourself it’s outside of your control, and more importantly, not relevant to you.

The phone rings and you glance at the digital display, seeing it’s Andy. You pick up.

“Yes?”

“I need to speak to you before you go to lunch.”

“Sure,” you reply, and you hang up, stomach suddenly full of knots.

With how he snapped at you earlier, you mind goes straight to the worst possible outcome – dismissal. It seems a little extreme, but he’s never been so… mean to you. But maybe you’re being paranoid, or maybe… maybe you’re being sensitive, and he didn’t snap at all. Still, he wasn’t warm as he usually was when he saw you. You thought he liked having you as his assistant.

You walk over to his door, wiping your sweaty hands on your skirt before opening it and slipping inside. Your head turned to shut it, you hear him say:

“Please lock that.”

You oblige, and then glance over to his desk, seeing him resting on the edge of it, arms crossed. His jaw tenses, his eyes falling to your skirt.

“What did you need, sir?” you ask, placing your hands behind your back.

“We’ve got an issue,” he says.

You swallow. “Oh? What’s happened?”

Sometimes a client is pricklier than others. Or something high profile comes through the firm and you have to be aware of press sniffing around. You don’t expect what comes out of Andy’s mouth next.

“It’s your skirt.”

“Oh, God,” you say, and you flush. “Yeah… it’s a little much. I’m sorry—”

He puts up a hand, but you keep going.

“I can go home and change, now, on my break. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, that won’t do.”

Your heart sinks. He’s going to fire you over your outfit? That has to be discrimination. You gape.

“Andy…”

He pushes off his desk and you freeze. Andy strides right up to you and takes hold of your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes boring into yours.

“You think you can wear something like that and there not be any consequences? I can practically see up your skirt.”

You can’t speak. Your heart hammers, her whole face and neck burning with shame.

He moves forward, hips on yours and you stumble backwards, his other hand grabbing your hip to steady you. Underneath the fear and humiliation, you know he’s getting you wet by touching you like this, as if he’s entitled to do so.

His thigh fits between your knees and he searches your face, eyes narrowing.

“Well? What have you got to say for yourself? You got my attention. Is that what you wanted?”

“I…” You gape some more, useless. “I-I did want that. I wanted you to look at me. But it’s not appropriate, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s really not.”

He kisses you, hard, open-mouthed and hungry. You gasp, his tongue pressing into your mouth to tangle with yours. Your hands grip his shirt sleeves and you close your eyes, kissing him back, riding the wave. He still holds your face, but by your jaw, his lips moving down to kiss your neck, his short beard grazing your skin.

“Andy…”

You moan his name and he chuckles, pressing his hard-on against your thigh. He’s huge. You’d bet your life on that. His hands rove your body, squeezing your tits, your hips, your ass… you whimper as he sucks at your skin, grinding against you.

“Come here.”

You obey, tugged along to the desk. He pushes you in front of him, bending you at the waist.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you look over your shoulder at him, watching as he stares at your ass in the leather skirt.

He pushes it up, hand coming down with a sharp slap to your right ass cheek. Of course, you couldn’t just wear any underwear with this skirt – your thong is all that covers you there, and he grabs it, tugging it tight.

“Fuck…”

“Andy,” you say, and he looks at you, chest giving a heave.

“Can’t wander around in that tiny black skirt and then act surprised when I want to fuck you-”

You bite your lip, canting your hips at his words, your ass lifting. He spanks you again, and you hope no-one hears that, the two slaps, or your bitten off moans.

He glances down. “Spread your legs. Fuck… you’re so wet.”

He undoes his belt, then his fly, taking out his cock. He tugs on himself as you anticipate the stretch of him. You nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

He takes hold of you by the neck, angling you for a filthy kiss, his other hand petting your behind, before slipping down between your cheeks to glide through your wetness. You moan into his mouth, his fingers spreading your arousal around, teasing your clit for a steady minute, and you’re whimpering for him.

“Did you wear this just for me?” he whispers, and you nod. He rocks his cock up against you. “Does that mean this is all mine now?”

He means your cunt. He plays with your clit, dips his fingers into you, riling you up. These are the consequences he was talking about.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s all yours.”

He fills you and you both gasp. He holds your shoulder, letting you fall forward onto his desk, rocking back and forth in shallow thrusts. The stretch makes you tremble, slick with want. Your nails scratch at the heavy wood when he picks up speed, hips hitting your ass, your thong stretched to the side.

You don’t know how much you can take, your feet lifting out of your shoes so you stand on tiptoes as he drives into you. All you can feel is how he stretches you to perfection, your mouth drooling from pleasure.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your thong snaps as his hands take hold of your hips, and he utterly wrecks you, skin slapping together as the world slips away. How are you meant to walk after this? Hang on – how are you meant to look Andy in the eye after this?

“Andy, Andy, Andy…”

You’re so close, you just need that little something, and you tense up, trying to muffle your moans in your arms… then you feel him find your clit again and rub, and you think you might burst into tears.

Your orgasm slams into you and your vision whitens, clenching around him as he fucks you through it.

“Good girl, that’s what I wanted,” he pants. “That’s what I wanted to feel.”

You feel something wet down your thighs and you realize you’ve squirted a little at the same time Andy does, and he huffs, close to the edge.

“Jesus, where have you been hiding?”

“Nowhere, I was at my desk,” you slur, and he laughs, breathless.

“You’re like a dream,” he praises, and then goes still, emptying into you. “So… fucking… cute.”

He sighs, hands coming up to pull you back, your next kisses more tender but still messy, the room reeking of sex now. You think of the carpets, the possible stains.

He keeps kissing you, stroking your cheek with his sweaty hand.

“After we clean up, do you wanna get some lunch together?” he whispers, and you nod, smiling lazily.

“I think we’re way past that, sir.”

His eyes sparkle with an unexpected fondness, before he kisses you again.

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it. ❤️

[buddierecs]

eddie diaz centric buddie fics

all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by: withmeornotatall "eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia" word count: 43k important tags: time loop au, minor buck/natalia, heavy angst, love confessions eddie diaz vs the pta agenda by: mmtion "really, eddie doesn’t care that the pta aren’t his biggest fan. he knows he misses too many meetings, and it’s not like he’s best friends with any of the other parents. it doesn’t affect christopher, so it doesn’t bother him. he’ll pay for the annual fundraising mugs and consider his duty done. but then buck picks christopher up from a class trip and it all goes to hell. like, of course buck is everyone’s dream guy. he’s responsible with kids, and kind, and funny and interesting and hot to touch. that’s obvious. but now eddie’s fighting to keep the pta moms, teachers, and dads, all off an unsuspecting and tempting buck. because eddie is a good friend. right?" word count: 19k important tags: idiots in love, jealous!eddie diaz, oblivious!eddie diaz a thousand ways to say i hate you by: morganofthefairies "five times eddie buys taylor fuck-you flowers, and one time he doesn't need to." word count: 8k important tags: 5+1 things, awkward dates, minor eddie/ana, minor buck/taylor, petty!eddie diaz, pining!eddie diaz light me and i'll burn for you by: woodchoc_magnum "in which an old friend of buck's joins the 118, and eddie does not like him. at all." word count: 31k important tags: mutual pining, soft!eddie diaz, oblivious!evan buckley, team as family save me from the man i've become by: woodchoc_magnum "told through eddie's eyes as he grows up with his uniquely overbearing parents, and gradually learns to accept himself for who he really is." word count: 20k important tags: self-acceptance, angst, growing up, soft!eddie diaz, pre-relationship, getting together love leaves a little runway by: toomanybats "eddie has a problem. a big, huge, ridiculous, gorgeous, mouth-watering problem. evan buckley, man of his dreams and bane of his existence has just arrived at the park wearing a crop top." word count: 8.7k important tags: fluff, pining, getting together, first time wherever you roam (you'll always want me) by: okanus "eddie starts to untangle his complicated feelings about himself, and buck. mainly buck." word count: 28k important tags: character study, catholic guilt, sexuality crisis, slow burn, jealous!eddie diaz, pining tell me about despair by: hattalove "the entity often affectionately referred to as the unrepression fic." word count: 148k important tags: therapy, ptsd, heavy angst, communication, feelings realisation, friends to lovers, slow burn

baby, you look happier (you do) by: frxm_theashes "five times eddie sees buck happy with someone else, and one time he realizes that buck is happy with him (and that, maybe, eddie is allowed to be happy with buck too). word count: 19k important tags: temporary buck/tommy, jealous!eddie diaz, catholic guilt, internalised homophobia, pining, getting together, making out

the persistence of memory by: withmeornotatall "buck gets shot, eddie has to keep reliving the day until he can figure out what the universe is trying to tell him" word count: 58k important tags: time loop, eddie diaz pov, angst, hurt/comfort, temporary character death, gay disaster!eddie diaz, make outs, gun violence

when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by: catchingpapermoons "eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (and he falls in love with buck along the way.) word count: 35k friends to lovers, didn't know they were dating, getting together, panic attacks, angst with a happy ending.

[circe69]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦 - Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

narrative: you get kidnapped by graves, and ghost rescues you (in a very aggressive/sweet manner) warnings: violent, blood, injuries, kidnapping, manhandling tags: cleaning wounds, soft ghost, solving mysteries, being babied honestly, touching, sweet things amidst gore. a/n: as always, lmk if this is something you'd like a part two for! love you guys! part 2

A set of strong hands grabbed your two biceps and threw you to the ground, your body slamming against the wet pavement. You groaned in agony, blood soaking your ripped shirt around your sleeves, whilst your ears rang, and vision blurred. Someone leaned down, you weren't sure who, and pulled you up by your hair.

You screamed, "G- ugh, Get off of me!" Graves let a chuckle escape, making your stomach churn. "You tell whoever is unfortunate enough to pick up your rotting body that it was me who was merciful, letting you leave alive when you deserve nothing but a coffin too small for your corpse.”

He dropped your hair, making your head strike the ground.

"Let's go, boys. Oh, she'll be fine, grow a pair!" You heard his eager voice fade out and heavy boots walk away, followed by a metal door closing shut, the rust falling on the doormat.

All the sudden, you heard a flashlight click. It was quiet enough to almost be unheard, but your senses had been heightened, you were aware of everything.

"Who's there?" You whispered, not trying to. You tried to be as loud as you possibly could, but it wasn't until this moment you realized how scared you were of being caught.

"Who's there?" You whispered, not trying to. You tried to be as loud as you possibly could, but it wasn't until this moment you realized how scared you were of being caught.

No one answered, but you could feel someone's presence. You stumbled to your feet, bracing yourself on the side of an empty tank before standing up straight. "I know someone's there!" Nothing.

Sighing, you took a few more steps towards where you heard the click, almost hoping that someone was there listening to you. Your hand slid against the wet metal of the tank, and the other trying to locate where you were hurt the most and holding pressure to where you guessed.

A gun cocked. Your head turned in every direction, trying to see everything at once. I'm about to die, you thought. This was the end. There was nothing else for you to do but accept that you would never see any of your family again, none of your friends.

You walked a little more, almost giving yourself up to whoever it was, and you almost turned back around to hide in the unused tank before wet arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a wall of a body.

Your screams filled the air, harsh groans were coming from the person behind you in response to your thrashing. "Put. Me. Down!" Kicking your legs in any way you could, but it didn't do anything. "Calm down, woman, I'm not gonna hurt you." The body turned around and started jogging towards a running vehicle. There was a man in the front, one you didn't recognize, but before you could scream anything else, you were thrown into the back of the car, and a huge man followed you. Your body hit a leather seat, and he was positioned in front of you, buckling your seatbelt as if you were a helpless child.

"Got her, Johnny. Move out," the man trapping you in a seat said. He said the terrifying sentence with gauze between his teeth, ripping a few long pieces off of a large roll and setting it back in the console. The driver wasted no time in throwing the gear in reverse at his command, and the dog tags on the rearview mirror jangled against themselves as he slammed on the gas.

You couldn't breathe, your head was spinning, and you weren't sure if it was from the loss of blood or sudden fear that you were going to die.

The man sitting in front of you was wearing a few things you deemed as strange: a cream skull-face mask on top of a black linen face covering. His vests and gear were anything but simple, you feared if he'd move the wrong way, he'd set off a bomb somewhere.

His hand reached up to turn on the dinky car light as the driver took a harsh turn. "Could you drive a little slower, mate?" His voice was aggressive, too deep for his own good. It was a weapon in and of itself. Orders that he made were automatically wishes that had to come true.

"Ghost," he said while opening up a few bandages and uncapping a tube of disinfectant, not even looking up at you. "Crazy man in the front is Soap."

You felt tears brew in your eyes as he talked to you in such a casual manner. There was no underlying threat in his words, even as scary as he was. A few heavy droplets slipped and audibly landed on your seatbelt, causing Ghost to look up at you.

Once he saw you crying, he sighed, not out of exhaustion or annoyance, but of something else. You weren’t sure what he was feeling, or why he did things he did. You weren’t sure anyone ever knew. He reached his gloved hand up and turned off the light, continuing to work in the dark. He'd be cursed for the rest of his life if he had to watch you cry.

A woman he'd never met, never even known existed, until that very afternoon.

"Sit down, men." Price said from the corner of the room, uncrossing his arms and walking away from his stance against the wall. "We've got places to be, people to save, Graves to fill." A few young newbies snickered at his joke; the rest stayed quiet. The captain circled the large table, passing out beige files and black masks to everyone sitting down. "Kate, the TV, please." Laswell clicked a black remote, pointing it at a flat screen and waited for a picture to pop up.

A young women appeared, maybe early 20's. Mid-length hair with eyes that could kill. Her license picture, as intimidating as you'd think it be to look into the eyes of a missing woman, it wasn't at all.

Her smile was beautiful, completely clueless at what the terrible world had to offer. What the terrible world had become. She was nothing but happy, just happy to be wherever. No one said anything, but they were all lost in the picture, not sure if what they were feeling was frustration or admiration.

"This is Y/N L/N." Price cleared his throat before continuing, "I used to work with her father, he's a good man. I owe him my life; I'd give him anything."

He made his way to the head of the round table, "Y/N's missing. He's given us the substantial responsibility of finding her."

Gaz spoke up after raising his hand for a few seconds, "Do we know where she is?"

"Well, where do we always find ourselves treading off to when we get any sort of call?" Price said in a sarcastic tone, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

"Graves." Ghost and Soap spoke in unison, the man in the ghost mask cleaning his knife off with a dirty rag, and the one in with the mohawk stirring some sugar into a mug of tea.

Laswell and Price nodded in agreement to their guess, and everyone else sighed audibly, some out of relief and others in annoyance. Graves was never the best option, but lately it's been seeming like the only option. Soap stood up from his seat, groaning as he scooted his seat in. "Well? Let's get on it."

"You'll be fine, luv. Swear it." Ghost said to you as he trailed his fingers along your head gash, feeling for the cut before using his other hand to pour isopropyl on a cotton round. He suddenly remembered the picture from earlier, the innocent face that's now bloody and bruised thanks to one of the men he's spent years trying to destroy.

"It'll sting," he whispered, and Soap in the front seat breathed through his teeth sharp. "Ooh, I know that smell. That's the smell of pain." You felt your mouth upturn slightly, inhaling the rubbing alcohol as well and leaning into the childhood memories that rushed into your brain. Ones of you falling down on the playground, scraping your elbow on the asphalt and running towards the nearest teacher.

"You okay?" Ghost checked in as he stuck a bandage on your head, and you hummed in response, taking a deep breath in as you leaned back on your head rest. "There she is," Soap said while looking in the rearview mirror.

Arriving back at the base, you felt your eyes droop open and closed, feeling comforted at the feeling of Ghost's thumb rubbing against the side of your jeans, trying to nurse you back to health to the best of his ability. Soap parked the car, slowly pressing on the brake to appease Ghost's previous request.

"You got her, Simon?" Soap asked as he took the key out of the ignition and quietly grabbing his backpack from the front seat. Ghost grunted in approval, and waited till Soap got out of car and shut the door before figuring out what to do with your tired body.

"Should I carry you?" He whispered, bracing himself on the armrest of your seat and bringing the other hand up to the side of your face, balancing your head on his palm as you tried not to fall asleep. You whined in response, not truly being conscious enough to reply properly. "Right then," Ghost said, looking around for things to clean up before heading up to the base.

He got out of the car first, jumping down onto the gravel and reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt. "Let's go, Y/N."

"You know my name?" You said sleepily as he picked you up with an arm underneath your legs and the other wrapped around your waist, squeezing gently to signal you jump into his arms.

"Course I do, you've been the talk of the town lately."

"Wow." Rubbing your eyes sleepily, it caused Ghost to look down at your in his arms, distracting him altogether from his mission. All the sudden, your waterline started to fill with tears.

"What, what is it?"

"I couldn't even fight back." You started to cry, your eyes pouring out on your face, something Ghost tried so hard not to watch but had to.

"It's alright, bug, not many of us can get a rile out of Graves anyway, that's reason enough for an award."

You chuckled at the sentiment, and at the fact that he cared enough to attempt to cheer you up. Even if his humor was the corniest you'd ever been around, it was enough to lift your moods a little bit.

As he walked you into the base, a cold chill hit your bare arm, you felt the dried blood crackle as you shifted. "Brr, am I right?" Ghost tried once again to make you crack a smile, walking you into the closest guest room. It was a quaint area, just one cot with a few cream-colored sheets and a dusty quilt that someone had definitely donated from years past. There was only one overhead light, and after Ghost gently set you down on the bed, he walked over to flip the switch.

“This okay? Is your head hurting you?” He asked considerately, walking back over to look into your pupils, making sure you weren’t concussed. “Not too bad,” you responded, rubbing a dry hand on your face, and pulling it back only to find it was covered in blood. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned at the sight, feeling ill knowing there was still remnants of your attack.

“You’re still quite bloody, I couldn’t see very well in the dark car, but someone else will-.”

“You could’ve kept the light on,” you interrupted him, sitting up slightly and leaning your head on the metal bed frame.

“What?” Ghost whispered, knowing good and well what you were implying, but not wanting to act it.

“You turned the light off, in the car, but you could’ve kept it on to see me better. Why didn’t you?”

He exhaled, slightly clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I know, I- I just couldn’t-" He paused to regain control over his stuttering, “I hated seeing you cry.”

Ghost walked over to a small sink, turning one of the knobs and dampening a rag before walking back over to you. He stopped a few paces in front of your bed, just to stare at you. The entirety of your body, nothing left unscathed. Your jeans were torn to shreds, red liquid lacing every stitch. The shirt you wore was drenched in rain and blood, and it ripped in the front, allowing cleavage to poke through, making Ghost’s eyes close abruptly when he saw it.

“You don’t even know me, Ghost, why would it bother you so much?” You adjusted yourself so your legs hung off the side of the bed, your shoulder facing where Ghost stood. “I know, but, I know of you.”

He continued, “Your father, he worked with Price, yeah? Price said your pops gave him the job of finding you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, but before you could say anything, you were interrupted.

“Oi, Lieutenant, you’re needed. Price says it’s an emergency.” An unfamiliar voice yelled from the hallway, before a few loud knocks at the door.

“I’m takin care of the girl, Gaz,-"

“Nope, Price said now.”

He frustratedly stood up, tapping his foot a few times before turning to you again.

You spoke first, “It’s fine, really, someone else will come along and clean me up.”

Ghost nodded, crossing his arms across his chest. “You sure?” You nodded your head as well in response, knowing that he wasn’t just some soldier, he was Ghost, a Lieutenant, a leader.

A killer.

“I’ll be back in the mornin, I swear it. With coffee and everything.” With that, Ghost left the room, his large boots and velcro straps with keychains hanging from them rattling and filling the room before fading out.

You were terrified, there was no other way to put it. And at this point, could anyone even be trusted? Sure, Ghost seemed nice enough, he wasted his time to tend to you, and Soap was eager to help as well, but it all seemed too strange, too strategic. How was Graves connected to the 141 Task Force? Why had Ghost mentioned they had been affiliated before?

You pulled out a locket from underneath your shirt, a small medallion that would be worth thousands if you had offered it to a trader, but the thought never crossed your mind. Inside was a picture of your father, someone you hadn’t seen in years. How in the world would he know you’d gotten kidnapped? He wasn’t even in the same country, let alone care enough to keep tabs on you. He was a terrible man, someone you told yourself and many others to stay away from. There had to be something else going on, something beneath the surface and even if Ghost didn’t know of it, he was still a part of it.

As much as you didn’t want to trust Ghost, you feared he was all you could lean on. You promised yourself once he’d get back in the morning, you’d discuss it with him; how Price talked to your father, and if it was even your father he was talking to? Hopefully, he'd have the answers, and if not, you'd at least have someone to talk to.

Plus, it didn't hurt how attractive he was.

[intoanotherworld23]

Almost Caught

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is just pure smut and loads of female receiving oral, and fingering

Summary: Chris has a little surprise for you in his office under his desk

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are encouraged and greatly appreciated! If you want to be added to any of my tag lists please let me know! Thank you guys so much! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"Come to my office now and sit at my desk." A deep voice spoke on the other side making you gulp a lump forming in your throat.

It was a simple request, and one that came to you unexpectedly. Having no idea what the intentions of this request really were for.

Your boss calling you asking that you come into his office, and sit behind his desk had your heart racing wondering what his intentions really were about. Maybe it was innocent and he just wanted to talk to you.

He had been very flirtatious with you, and a part of you knew it was wrong, but he was pulling you in. The two of you had kissed and made out, but it's never gone past that.

Quickly looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention, and standing up heading to your bosses office. Quietly opening the door as you made your way in shutting the door behind you.

"Mr. Evans?" Whispering as you looked around the empty office to see he wasn't even in here.

Staring at his desk for a few seconds before you made your way over, and sat down in his comfy leather seat. Looking at all the paperwork, and files he had stacked on top of it.

Your mind racing with all kinds of thoughts as to what was going to happen. Hoping nobody would walk in and see you sitting in the bosses chair, and getting in trouble.

Just as you got comfortable a huge hand placed itself on your knee making you jump. A small squeal leaving your lips quickly covering your mouth hoping that no one heard that. Looking down to see blue eyes staring back up at you with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Shh it's just me." He whispered back putting a finger up to his lips.

"What are you doing?" Asking him feeling his hands moving further up your thighs so gently and tenderly.

"I'm hungry." Was all he said as he licked his lips making you scrunch your face in confusion.

“W-what?” Your voice trembling with pure excitement.

“I need something sweet and savory.” Voice deep and dangerous.

His hands this time massaging your inner thighs making your pussy clench around nothing. Your panties were getting wetter by the minute the longer his hands were touching you.

He started to kiss from your ankle all the way up to your inner thigh. Every other kiss he would glance up at you to see how crazy he was driving you. Your mouth was opened as shallow breaths left your lungs.

"Thank god you're wearing a skirt." He smirked at he pushed your skirt further up bunching them around your hips.

"Why?" He's never touched you like this, and you were in too much shock you couldn't even stop his actions.

"So I can do this." Watching his fingers pull your panties to the side his eyes turning dark as he saw how drenched you were for him.

His mouth was inches from your folds, and you found yourself lifting your hips just wanting to feel his tongue. He chuckled at your eagerness, and instead of teasing you more he placed his entire mouth on your wet folds.

"Oh god." Whispering as he gave you kitten licks your legs spreading further apart so he had easier access.

"Shh sweetheart." He mumbled against your folds as he looked up to your face again. "Don't want anyone to catch us do we."

Without waiting for your response he went right back to your now soaked pussy his tongue making figure eights. Closing your eyes as you took in the feeling your toes curling in your shoes.

His tongue was moving faster this time as he rapidly moved it up and down against your pussy. Flicking his tongue around your clit making your squeal as you gripped his hair. He loved how sensitive you were.

"Fuck you taste so good." He groaned as his hands moved to your knees keeping them wide as he felt you trying to close them. "So delicious."

"Please keep going." Whining as your hands gripped the arms rests trying to control your body from spazzing out. "Feels so good."

Feeling him grinning against your folds as he started to suck on your folds thrusting his tongue inside of you. Wigging it around inside of you trying to find your sweet spot. The scruff of his beard brushing against your throbbing clit.

"Such a tight little pussy for me." He cooed up at you as he maintained his eye contact with what was between your legs.

His words had your cheeks on fire, and sweat starting to form on the back of your neck. Panting heavily as you tried to keep yourself from screaming out loud with pleasure.

Looking down to see his mouth practically swallowing your entire pussy. Grinding your hips against his face trying to feel more of his tongue. His hands keeping a grip on your knees to keep you open and spread for him.

"Feel my tongue baby." He encouraged you not to think too much and just feel. "Grind those hips sweetheart."

That's exactly what you did for him moving your hips up and down, and moving them side to side. Hearing him groan as he watched you turn into a completely different person right now.

For several minutes he kept the same pattern and rhythm up without breaking a beat. Your hands went from gripping his hair to gripping the arm rests. Unable to control your body or hands anymore.

"Such a good girl." He praised you making your heart swoon over him loving when he talked like this.

Leaning your head back as you moaned out loud. Sticking his tongue out so he could slowly lick you from the bottom of your pussy to your clit that was now poking out.

"Could eat this pussy all day." He growled as he looked directly at your pussy in almost admiration.

Just as he dove right back in a knock came from the door making your eyes go wide. Chris didn't seem bothered as he kept sucking on your pussy his hands moving up and down your thighs. Trying to pull away from him, but he kept you from going anywhere.

"Come in." He said out loud making you shake your head in panic.

"Mr. Evans I was wondering-" One of the girls walked in but stopped mid sentence when she saw you sitting there. "Oh I thought I heard his voice."

"Nope just me." Stuttering out as Chris starting to suck on your clit your hands now squeezing the arm rests so tightly you thought you would break off a nail.

"What are you doing in his chair?" Soon as he asked that you felt his tongue swirling around your folds again.

"He asked me to sit in his chair." A wave of jealousy washed over her, but you were so deep in pleasure you could have cared less.

Your chest was heaving up and down as he would sensually kiss your inner thighs, and the top of your pussy. The room was getting smaller as he continued to eat you out even as she stood there. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you secretly enjoyed it.

"Where is he?" She asked as she looked around the room completely unaware he was under the desk feasting in between your legs.

"I have no idea." Suddenly feeling something poking at your folds, and then entering inside of you making you gasp.

He really was risking a lot here, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him. You’d always imagined him doing naughty and forbidden things in your office. Only thing you didn’t want was for someone to walk in when he was doing said naughty things.

"Are you okay?" Looking at you like you were crazy as you slowly realized Chris just stuck a finger inside of you.

"Yep." Giving her a weak smile hoping she would leave soon so you could save yourself from further embarrassment.

His finger was thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace you could hear the sounds your pussy was making. Feeling his eyes looking up at you burning into your skin. His mouth wide open as he felt you clenching around his finger.

"You have any idea when he'll be back?" Of course she had all these stupid questions to ask unaware of what was really going on.

"Nope." Spitting out at her hoping she would catch your tone and leave.

Same time Chris's finger was curling up inside of you at an angle that had your stomach tightening.  One of your hands reached down to grip his hair tightly your nerves all over the place.

You were so close to release you were almost afraid to cum terrified of the noises that would leave your mouth. All you wanted was to orgasm, and have gave him slurp every last drop you would give him.

“I just have something important to tell him.” Two fingers pushed deep a gasp almost leaving your mouth.

“Yep.” Nodding your head rapidly wanting to release a cry of ecstasy trapped behind your lips.

Chris was enjoying this more than he thought he would, and was drooling as he watched his fingers disappearing inside of you. It was the hottest thing he had seen in a long time, and was even pushing you to make more noise.

"Okay well I'm come back later." Quickly moving back as she left the room and shut the door.

"Asshole." Mumbling as you pushed yourself back watching as he smirked letting out a chuckle. "She could have caught us."

Wiping his mouth as your juices had coated his beard. Licking his finger with a groan as he stared directly into your eyes. The simple gesture had you wet all over again, and your body igniting with desire.

"Wouldn't have stopped me." He confessed as he stood up standing in front of you staring directly at a tent formed in his pants.

"I should probably go back to my desk." Stating as you stood up to leave, but a hand caught your wrist pushing you forward so you were bent over the desk.

"I'm not done with you yet sweetheart." He growled with a smack to your ass making you cry.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Just read your eridan essay. I left a lot of words in the tags (sorry about that btw. I'm @kitkat-not-karkat, those were my tags) and I just. Holy fucking shit man.

THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT INTO WORDS. Like. Genuinely. Thank you.

That said, do you have any ideas on why Eridan might specifically flirt as a sort of default response sometimes? (I really hope I'm not misremembering that, the fandom bastardizes the poor guy to be Cronus 2.0-)

I have my own personal speculation here, but I'd love to see your take on it!

I think it's a few things all working in tandem, and I think you definitely nailed at least most of it! I do agree that a huge part of his fixation on romance is the fact that a romantic partner is "supposed" to stick around, and Eridan is simply desperate for attention and friendship.

There are a lot of people who idealize relationships and believe that they're the "fix" or "solution" to their emotional problems, and Eridan's obsession with blackrom in particular (where the caligulas part of his trolltag comes from) definitely has shades of that. A kismesistude is an outlet for violent urges, as well as a romantic interest who ideally doesn't ghost you or leave you alone (cough Vriska cough), and one of the two concupiscent quadrants that needs to be filled so you don't get culled.

An interesting thing is constantly being implied within the comic, which is that moirallegiance is actually kind of the most important quadrant for trolls, but their culture has de-emphasized it in favor of the two breeding-related quads. After all, since adult trolls don't have to raise their own young, what Karkat calls "mating fondness" is biologically much less imperative to their species compared to the quadrant that keeps volatile trolls from going berserk and killing people.

Moirallegiance is always treated with a sort of mysticism - it's called "magical" by the narration in relation to Kanaya and Vriska's moirallegiance while that's still extant, it's the only quadrant described as "soul mates," and in contrast to "mating fondness," Karkat mentions the "mystical forces governing moirallegiance." Moirails - Equius and Nepeta being confirmed, but I genuinely believe that that's what Feferi and Sollux would have resolved to in that hypothetical golden ending - are also the quad that spends the most time together, rather than the two concupiscents. The initial description of the pale quadrant even outright says that the attraction is "instinctive." There's something magical and destiny-laden in a moirallegiance that just isn't there to the same extent in the other three quads.

But in Alternian society, kindness, guilt, and the other kinds of things you'd share with a moirail are considered weakness, especially for highbloods. When Feferi is breaking up with him, Eridan flips out the hardest at the implication that she felt the need to take care of him, insisting that he was perfectly fine. I think this is the reason, in addition to the painful breakup, that Eridan never pursues pale relationships, even though a moirail is what he desperately needs. Instead, he pursues the much more societally acceptible pitch quadrant, which can serve a similar purpose of discharging some of his pent-up aggression.

Moreover, his flirting isn't nearly as relentless as people think it is, although he IS both really stubborn AND really socially inept, which makes it difficult both to get a "no" through his brain, AND to make it stick. Another part of it is that he's operating at very little self-awareness, which means he'll often be doing something without consciously realizing it. Also, he's desperate as hell, and has basically no ability to differentiate good and bad attention. This leads to a pretty messy cocktail that basically means:

He'll hit on anyone at least once (desperation), with the exception of people it would be really weird to hit on, for example, their dancestors, who are way older than them.

If a rejection is not made excruciatingly clear, he probably won't register it as a rejection (dumbassery).

Nearly any attention he gets might be misinterpreted as flirting, even after a rejection is made (desperation, also, can't differentiate between good and bad attention).

Even after a rejection is made and he logically understands it and outright says he respects it, he might still act in a flirtatious way unconsciously (zero self awareness).

Because he will hit on anyone at least once, and is constantly making things weird and leaping to "romance?" even when there's no flirtatious intent, people kind of assume he's always hitting on them, even when he isn't.

His emotions always running at a fever pitch, and the lack of self-awareness he cultivates in order to help deal with his horrible cognitive dissonance, mean that even HE'S not sure about his real feelings. He's always feeling SOMETHING very, very intensely (it's the trauma and anxiety), which he mistakes for true caliginous hatred, or fevered flushed intent. Unlike Cronus, who's basically just trying to get some action, Eridan genuinely feels something for people, and his extreme lack of emotional intelligence means he has no idea how to parse his own tempestuous emotions. He always leaps to feverish concupiscent attraction because that's just how intense his emotions run at any given moment.

#4 is happening to Feferi and Sollux, IMO, while Rose never properly rejected him, so he still thinks they have a chance, and the same happened with Vriska when she started ghosting him post-kismesistude. #5 can be seen in his last memo with Karkat, where Karkat starts to wonder if past!Eridan was redflirting with him by inviting him to LOWAA, even as Eridan himself has no idea what the fuck Karkat is talking about.

Thing is, he DOES actually accept rejections once he gets them through his thick skull, which sets him apart from Cronus, who gets rejected, knows it, and keeps going. It's just... Eridan's messy. His emotions are all over the place, and too big for his stupid body, so he's always making things weird and intense.

I blame his lusus, personally. In a previous post, I talk about how a huge factor in his inability to identify negative attention is because he's basically being emotionally neglected. This has also led to his desperation for attention in general. When combined with the trauma from all the murdering and the pressure society puts on him to fit into a certain mold, it leads to some pretty explosive emotional ourbursts, of which his intense, insistent, and downright uncomfortable flirting is a major facet, but also, only a facet.

[wanderersbell]

Aaah i live for the idea of being the wanderer's travel companion!! i love the "lending you his hat" fic you did, it's so well done ♥️ i don't even have anything specific to request, i would just love for more cute moments like that 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

a trip to vanarana

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1620

a/n: anon i'm so glad you love that idea bc it's my fav and i think about it all the time! here's some more for you (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ this miiight be kinda off lore wise bc iirc the only reason people couldn't see aranara was due to the inability to dream, and considering they can now i feel like that also implies they can see the little guys but i could be wrong so oh well - enjoy!

bringing fresh fruit to the aranara in vanarana had become a special, self indulgent little routine of yours as of late. 

honestly, you weren’t even sure if they could eat, but all of it always vanished within a couple of days when you’d come back with more, and the aranara would greet you eagerly - so you figured wherever it went it must be getting put to good use. two to three times a week, rain or shine, you would drag the wanderer with you to pick up fresh produce from the market and carry it to the tiny village. he would grumble and huff the whole way, drag his feet like a petulant child, but refused to let you go alone if you offered to let him stay behind. 

“you’re basically exploiting me.” he points out, kicking a stray hilichurl arrow away from his foot. the camp the two of you just cleared out sits vacant now as you lift the discarded sack of fruit back up over your shoulder, the weight slightly heavier than before after tossing in the apples and sunsettias you just found. 

you shoot the wanderer a slightly exasperated look from where he’s still tossing hilichurl loot around with his foot instead of picking it up. he pretends to be lost in thought once you whip your head around to face him, wiping invisible dust off of his shoulder like dealing with a small camp of monsters is anything more than a minor inconvenience for someone with his level of abilities. 

“when i take you with me i’m exploiting you, when i leave you behind it’s excluding you.” you sniff, fixing him with glare when he finally meets your eyes. “has anyone ever told you that you’re difficult?”

his brows raise in faux disbelief, his right hand coming to rest over his vision like he’s deeply offended by your words. “me? difficult? is it so wrong to desire compensation for my troubles?”

you can’t help the way your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, but a small smile still tugs at your lips at his dramatics. 

“is my company not enough for you?” you joke as the aranara village comes into view. the loud scoff behind you comes as no surprise. 

“not in the slightest. this is a waste of time, i have better things to be doing right now.” 

you give a thoughtful hum in response, choosing to say nothing else as the silent acknowledgment between the two of you goes unsaid, but speaks loud enough all the same. with you, when he can’t comfortably bring himself to admit the truth, he’ll say the opposite of what he feels. you know this very well, so what he means is: “more than enough, i’d cause a scene if you didn’t let me tag along.”

soon reaching the aranara village, you and your travel companion head over to the center of the clearing and you unceremoniously let the fruit fall to the ground, reaching up to rub at your sore shoulder immediately afterwards while the wanderer gives you a pointed look that you choose to ignore. he insisted you let him carry the bag before you left, you always end up complaining about how heavy it is, but you refused and wouldn’t let him take it from you despite knowing the truth of his words. 

it’s only moments later that the aranara start to emerge from their tiny homes and wobble over to you, their silly little hats and faces bringing a familiar sense of glee that overcomes you whenever you see them. 

“i’m back!” you exclaim with a huge grin that has your eyes squinting into crescents. “i hope your hungry! or ready to do… whatever you do with this stuff!” when you bend down to start taking the produce out of the bag and into a pile, the man standing next to you snorts lightly. 

the wanderer, ever the one to suck the joy out of things until they’re bitter and tasteless, is convinced they can’t eat and that you bringing them fruit is the equivalent of birds bringing shiny trash to people. this doesn’t bother you in the slightest though, so all he can do is stand back hopelessly and watch these little forest creatures rob you of perfectly good food. 

“you know, they probably throw it all into a hole and let it rot. compost for the garden.” he says while a few of the aranara swarm his feet and gaze up at him with expectant beady eyes. 

you give a nonchalant shrug in response. “that’s certainly not the worst thing they could be doing, so i don’t see a problem with it. contributing to their garden is a good deed, no?”

out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the floating aranara approach your traveling companion who glares suspiciously at the viparyas it carries in its hands. your heart swells immediately at the sight of the small forest creature offering him a flower out of the blue, hands flying up to cover your mouth lest you squeal in delight and ruin the moment. 

the wanderer still remains rooted to the spot, watching hesitantly as the aranara reaches out and waits until he outstretches his hand to drop the viparyas into his palm. his eyes momentarily flick down to the flower laying on his hand then back up to the aranara that bounces a bit in the air and makes a soft, pleased sound before turning and floating away. 

“oh my god,” you whisper-yell into your hands, eyes wide with disbelief at the interaction you just witnessed. with bewilderment clear on his face, the wanderer meets your eyes and purses his lips in embarrassment at the fact that you watched it all go down. 

fruit long forgotten, you clamber to your feet and lean closer to see the viparyas that’s still laying haphazardly on his palm. when you try to grab it, your travel companion finally snaps out of his shock and yanks his hand away from you with the flower clutched tight in his grip. 

“don’t you dare. it was given to me, not you.” he says firmly, smirking at the way your expression gives way to irritation faster than he can blink. 

“i thought you didn’t like the aranara!” you remind him, wholesome moment instantly ruined. “you hardly even help here, i’m positive it was meant for me anyways!”

when you reach out to try to take it again he turns his entire body away from you and peeks over his shoulder with a proud sneer. “if it was meant for you, it would’ve been given to you. this was obviously for me.”

a heavy sigh forces it’s way out of your lungs but you begrudgingly concede, willing to let him be possessive over the flower the little aranara gave him because, to be fair, it was a precious sight. you wave a hand at him dismissively and mumble a quiet, “fine, whatever.” before crouching down again to finish emptying the bag that had been forgotten, and you miss the way his expression falls at the genuine disappointment in your voice. 

tentatively, after a moment of contemplation, he leans over to tap you on the shoulder. when you turn your head to figure out what he wants, he thrusts the flower towards you with a tiny pout and blush on his face, eyes avoiding your own the way they always do when he thinks he accidentally hurt your feelings. 

of course, you didn’t actually mind that much, it was just a flower after all, but seeing the sincerity behind his actions, you can’t help but to play along and offer a small smile in response before tentatively taking the viparyas from his outstretched hand. 

the second your fingers brush he jerks his hand away and clutches it to his chest, standing back up with a huff and crossing his arms while you gaze fondly at the soft blue and purple petals. your chest clenches tightly at the fact that he had given it to you even if it was only because he thought you were upset, and when you glance up at him to offer him a grateful smile you find that he’s already watching you with a complicated expression on his face. 

“what?” you ask cautiously. “don’t tell me you already want it back.”

he clicks his tongue and averts his attention elsewhere. “of course i don’t, keep it for all i care.”

what he means is: “no, it’s for you anyways.” and the smile on your face unconsciously stretches into a giddy grin at his unconvincing frown accompanied color staining his cheeks while he pretends to ignore you. having already finished setting all of the fruit in a pile, you bundle up the bag and shove it under your arm as you stand up and walk over to his side, following his line of sight to watch the sky where the sun starts peeking out of the clouds with breathtaking rays of light. 

the comforting presence of the man beside you fills you with a warm, unexplainable feeling that you can’t help but want to cling onto forever, to hold onto so tightly that it permanently fuses with your being. 

“ready to leave?” he asks after a few blissful moments of silence, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. you nod softly, too content and peaceful to break the silence and speak. 

and so, you and your travel companion head back into town together, viparyas held tightly in your hand while the rays of light in the sky fully emerge from the clouds and illuminate the smiles on your faces. 

[aquaburst3]

Okay, since I haven't seen many posts up yet about this, not that I blame anyone since others are probably at school and work rn, I want make a post summarizing what happened so far in the latest event on the JP server.

Disclaimers:

All of this info came from LuluBelle over on my Discord server, so all the credit for gathering this up goes to them.

Also, I don't know how to speak or read Japanese nor do I have the JP version of the app, making me unable to verify this. Take this all with a huge mountain of salt.

Like I said in my other post, I'm calling him Honest Fellow, since that sounds less awkward and I think it'll be localized to that anyway.

JP Event Spoilers Below

The arc starts with Honest Fellow and Giddel selling the themepark to some faceless NPCs. After some convincing, they enter the park. Honest Fellow evil laughs.

We cut to a basketball game between RSA and NRC. NRC lose yet again. NRC fight amongst themselves, and the teachers break it up.

After the game, Floyd, Ace, Yuu and Grim, wallowing in their frustration at NRC's loss to RSA, decided to go Craneport to get some snacks. There they find Jade and Jack on the way.Jack was there to get some new threads while Jade was there by sheer coincidence.

Kalim and Ortho arrive. They were in a bookstore, because Kalim was searching for books concerning magic potions, since he's struggling with those and Sam's shop was closed. (I have no idea why Jamil wasn't there either, because him leaving Kalim unattended seems kinda ooc.)

Honest Fellow along with his brother swoop in, making their sales pitch. Grim wonders about what Playful Land is exactly. Ace explains that it's a mysterious amusement park that nobody knows where it is. Honest Fellow says that's correct.

Honest Fellow gives the group tickets to the park. When Kalim says they'll go the next weekend, Honest Fellow chimes in, saying, "Oh, no, no! You can only use it until tomorrow!" They both fuck off into the night.

When the group gets back, they tell Riddle and Jamil about the tickets. They're both like, "Hell no!" Riddle shoots it down because skipping classes is unforgivable. (Ace was originally gonna invite Deuce, but he tattled on him to Riddle, since he found the whole thing suspicious. Honestly, good on him.) Jamil finds it suspicious and puts his foot down, telling Kalim that he forbids him from ever going.

Jack tells Leona, who is all like, "Nah, this is kinda fishy." Jack decides that he has to go because he promised Honest Fellow he would, and he doesn't want to break it.

Floyd tells Azul. He says, "Nope, I'm not coming. It's sus, and I don't wanna owe anybody anything!" They tweels laugh, saying that they want to check it out BECAUSE it's shady.

Ortho tells his brother. He shoots it down, since he doesn't like crowds. Ortho then confides in Vil thanks to them being in the same club.

Early the morning, before the sun rises, the group gathers to sneak to the harbour in town. Kalim managed to get the rest of the Light Music Club to come along, because they saw just how sad Kalim seemed and decided to tag along to comfort him. Vil was convinced to come along by Ortho. One, he wants to see what's the big deal about this park. Two, he's also suspicious, and, as a dorm leader, he wants to oversee all of his juniors and make sure they're all okay. Trey followed after Ace because Deuce asked him for his help and had the feeling that Ace would be stubborn enough to rebel and sneak out even though Riddle said no. Leona followed after Jack because he felt like he had to be the responsible one for once and was genuinely concerned about Jack's well being.

Honest Fellow arrives. He is just so dramatic. Half of them go, "Fucking really? Why did any of our juniors trust this guy? He's as sus as a FNAF animatronic!" (Not in those words, obliviously, but along that same idea.)

Honest Fellow shows them around the park. Which looks like this...

The park is more like those travelling summer fairs where it goes from town to town instead of staying in one place like Universal Studios, Knotts Berry Farm or any of the Disney Parks. The boys can kick back and indulge in their darkest desires.

The third years still feel that this whole thing is kinda sus. Since Grim and some of the others head straight to the entry gate, they reluctantly go along with it to watch over their juniors. Grim face plants into the gate, because he didn't show a ticket. Ace shows his ticket. Ace, Grim and Yuu's clothes get magically altered to resemble the ones on the card. The same thing happened to everyone else.

After everyone's gotten inside the amusement park, we have a foreboding speech from Honest Fellow and Giddel about how the young generation are easily skeptical, but can still be fooled by the promises of a fun play park. Honest Fellow mentions how he and Giddel should accommodate their visitors… for it will be the "last'' fun memory that they'd have. Cue End of Part 1.

Some other minor side things...

It's confirmed. Honest Fellow and Giddel are brothers.

Honest Fellow is a mage, but is less magically inclined compared to the NRC boys. Giddel is a non-mage.

Lulu, aka the same person from my Discord server, suspects the themepark itself might be a magic tool of some kind. Considering how it operated in the movie and novel along with fan theories about them, I'm inclined to believe them.

We also finally got a description of what Yuu is actually wearing during this event. (Honestly, it's about fucking time. Because one gripe I always had with these events is that we never get even a small description of what Yuu is wearing, which makes it harder to imagine what's going on in my head.) Basically, they are wearing the same style jacket as Leona, but with the same colours as Lilia's costume. Do with that information as you will Malleus/Yuu shippers.

Honest Fellow has a Honest John pendant on his hat.

More of a personal gripe, but I'm not sure what to make of Honest Fellow as a character yet. Right now, he seems like the mastermind behind this whole operation, but that doesn't make sense. In the movie, Honest John wasn't on board with the Pleasure Island shit, and only went along with it thanks to the Coachman threatening him and Gideon's lives. Wouldn't it be far more fitting for him to be a lacky of another villain and being forced to go along with it out of fear of having the same thing happen to him and his brother? And if that was the case, that would also better align him thematically with Ortho, who's brother is the same way towards him. But I'm reserving my judgements on his character until the event is over.

Playful Land gives me major Joy Joy Land vibes.

I find the idea of Leona, Trey and Vil going there, because they are worried about their juniors adorable. They are really tapping into their big brother instincts, even if I doubt Vil and Leona would ever admit it out loud.

Though, one plot hole with this whole thing is why didn't Jamil, Trey and Deuce rip up the tickets if they were that concerned about the others going to the park? Granted, the tickets could be enchanted so that they're impossible to destroy, but I never heard if that's the case yet. Idk, it's a nitpick, but it's still something that annoys me a bit as a writer myself.

[feyhunter78]

Chapter Five - You find Miguel's sister-in-law on Instagram, and Miguel asks you for help with his phone. Ch 6

You trail your fingers over the hand shaped bruises on your thighs, gently, not wanting to press into skin and further irritate the broken blood vessels, as you scroll through your phone. The bathwater around you is still warm, lavender scented bubbles covering the surface, a glass of wine on the flat edge of the tub.

You’ve been trying to find something, anything on Miguel’s family, and finally you’ve done it. An Instagram page pops up, @MinaQMorris, a stunning woman with long wavy red hair and dazzling hazel eyes. The first picture that comes up has her in an elegant, slinky black gown, her arm wrapped around the biceps of a taller man with tan skin and dark eyes, the caption reads: Another successful charity event with my love @GabrielOHara, make sure to sign up for our blood drive next month! Link in my bio!

It’s clear he’s Miguel’s brother, the resemblance is uncanny. Sure, Gabriel is a little skinner, and not as tall as Miguel, but they have the same smile, the same piercing brown eyes.

You shiver at the idea of a blood drive, you hate giving blood, the needles, the sight of it leaving your body, it’s painful and always makes you anxious.

You go to Mina’s tagged photos, finding Miguel’s Instagram quite easily. He has six photos, and it looks like either she or Gabriel forced him to post them. You laugh, it’s so like Miguel, you swear he’s technologically inept, he’s always asking you for help with his phone or his laptop. The only technology he does understand is in the morgue, and you wonder why he finds the morgue equipment so easy but his cell phone confusing.

A notification pops up at the top of your screen, and your eyes flicker up.

Miguel: Y/N, can you help me with my phone tomorrow?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, as they say. You laugh and shoot back a quick response before continuing to stalk Miguel’s page.

Y/N: Sure, what’s wrong with it?

Miguel: Not sure, the sound stopped working.

You roll your eyes. He probably forgot to update the software again.

Y/N: I’ll look at it in the morning.

Miguel sends back a thank you, then the conversation falls silent, and you put your phone on the counter, closing your eyes and relaxing in the warm water.

The next day, you find Miguel waiting outside your office, phone in hand.

He has the latest phone, a sleek but clearly protective dark blue case on it. The lockscreen is a landscape with a gothic-looking manor in the background, and five or six people standing in the foreground with their backs to the camera. You never pegged him as a dark academia guy, but everyone has their thing.

“Okay, let me see it.” You say, taking a seat at your desk. Your office is cozy, covered with plants and brightly colored decorations, you're surrounded by death all day, you figured you might as well celebrate life in your own office.

He opens it and unlocks it before handing it to you and taking a seat in the plush rolling chair. Smiling up at you is Miguel, Gabriel, and Mina, they’re all dressed in dark colors, their outfits ostentatious and clearly expensive, glasses of crimson wine in their hands.

“Did you guys take this on Halloween?” You ask, motioning to the photo.

“Yeah, it’s Mina’s birthday, so her family throws a huge party every year.”

“That’s cool, now okay, did you check for updates?” You ask, going into the settings.

“Yes, and I made sure it was fully charged.” Miguel says, looking like a kicked puppy, as he pulls a rolling chair next to you.

You scroll through his settings, until you come to audio. It’s connected to his earbuds.

“Found the issue, it’s still in Bluetooth mode.” You tell him, swiftly disconnecting it and turning to hand the phone back to Miguel.

A woman’s voice comes through the speakers, and you all but throw Miguel’s phone at him. “Fuck, Miguel, oh baby, please, I need your big fat cock inside me—”

He scrambles to turn down the volume. “Shit, I—that was just a friend of mine, she—”

You hold up a hand, wanting to crawl out of your skin from embarrassment and strangely…jealousy? For a brief second you wanted to be that woman, be begging Miguel to fuck you, to feel him deep inside you, his chest pressed to yours, his lips against your ear whispering sinfully things that make your toes curl. “No, no, no need, what you do in your free time is none of my business.”

Miguel is stiff, curled inward, seemingly just as embarrassed as you. “No, no, y/n, I mean it, she’s nobody.”

You laugh, not at him, to break the tension, but the sound falls flat, and you wave your hand dismissively. “Miguel, seriously, it’s no big deal. Yeah, I’d be a little embarrassed if I knew my boyfriend’s coworker heard me moaning about how much I wanted him but, really, it’s fine, it was an accident.”

There’s a shift in him, his eyes darken for a fleeting moment, and he leans closer, his phone face down on your desk. He towers over you even while you’re both sitting, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“You moan like that for him?” His words are so quiet you barely hear them.

“What?” You blink at him, stunned, frozen.

Miguel’s voice is still quiet, a slight purr to it that sends goosebumps scattering across your skin. “Lo dudo. ¿Cómo podrías hacerlo cuando te deja tan necesitada? No princesa, solo me cantas así.” Trsl: I doubt it. How could you when he leaves you so needy? No princess, you only sing like that for me.

“I don’t speak Spanish.” Is all you can manage to say, a throbbing starting in your core at the way he watches you, the curl of his tongue around the accented words.

He blinks at you, slowly, like a cat, then pulls back. “You shouldn’t send him voice messages like that, it’s not safe, what happened here is a prime example of that.”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“Thanks for your help.” Miguel says suddenly, standing and leaving your office, seeming completely unfazed.

You can’t help but catch the way he pulls his lab coat closed as he leaves, and you catch a quick glimpse of budging fabric that makes you swallow hard.

How the hell does that fit into anybody? Fuck, who cares, I’ll let him make it fit, he can rearrange my fucking guts if he wants.

You hear Miguel choke, then start coughing as he walks away, his footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

I know Miguel is good with tech, he's scheming don't yell at me in the comments

TL: @obi-mom-kenobi, @poutysprouty, @oharasfilipinawife, @laysmt, @cicithemess, @unabashedcroissanttreefan, @lynxslokley, @thedevax

[saintmagx]

I Knew you were Trouble❤️‍🔥

Part 3

Pairing: Jimmy Uso x reader

AN: if you would like tagged let me know 💖 Trinity is still with WWE. No specific timeline

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity, jealous Jimmy, bad writing, cringe story telling, the Usos (because they are a warning in themselves) ⚠️

JIMMY IS SO FINE LIKE 😭🤤 HELP!!!! Also is anyone else just loving how much fun he’s having on Smackdown right now????? YEEET 🤪 NO YEET 😐

The hustle and bustle of the gorilla can be a bit much for some people but not me, it strangely helps me get in the zone, ready to become my onscreen persona and throw yn out the window. Hunter confirmed the timeline for myself and trinity to win the tag team titles - five weeks away at Summerslam. Trin was still determined to get us an in ring team name and had enlisted Beverly the seamstress to start working on matching outfits - I love her but when she sets her mind to something - nothing and I mean nothing stands in her way.

Tonight I had a singles match against Liv Morgan, a simple one on one match with a clean win for me. Waiting for my cue the Uso’s come through the curtain after finishing their match. Josh greets me with his huge infectious smile and warm embrace, Jon on the other hand greets me with his signature fiery stare.

“Good luck out there yn. The crowd is on fire tonight!”

Josh walks away leaving me standing with Jon once more.

“We need to stop meeting like this.” Jon says with a smirk

“Ah yes, however it is hard when we work at the same place and are friends with the same people, the likelihood of us continually bumping into each other is pretty high.” Proud of my self for my reply I look at him smiling awaiting his response.

“Ya know, for a pretty girl you have a pretty smartass mouth. I sure hope you ain’t all talk and can back up that mouth babygirl.” He gives me a final once over and heads over to Josh who is standing chatting to his cousin Joe.

Focus yn, focus.

“Yn, you’ve missed your cue, get out there NOW.”

Shit. I don’t need distractions right now, I need to prove to Hunter and everyone backstage that i deserve to be here and I deserve these titles.

My match against Liv went to plan, we only had a 7 minute slot so it was quick and effective.

Trin

Hey so a few of us are heading to dinner before you guys have to be back on the road for the European tour. You in?

Yn

Of course girl, lemme get ready and I’ll meet you at the car 💗

Trin

I’ve already left the arena, but Jon and Josh are still there, tag along with them and I’ll see you at dinner 💕

Great. The more I try to keep away from Jon the more fate keeps throwing us together.

The car ride to the restaurant was pretty normal actually. Jon and Josh were in the front talking tactics from their match and goofing off. Me on the other hand was a simple bystander to this, it was nice. The bond the boys have is special, really warms the heart.

“Earth to yn!”

Josh snaps me out of my thoughts

“Sorry, um what were you saying?”

“Damn, not even paying attention to me huh.”

“Oh shush Josh, I’m tired.” I say laughing, I wouldn’t tell them that the real reason I was preoccupied was because I was in awe of them and their bond, those boys don’t need bigger heads.

With Josh fake falling out with me, I turn my attention to Jon.

“Can you tell me what he said?”

“Please?” I beg batting my eyelids, being a little flirtatious always gave me the upper hand, but with Jon it was dangerous territory I was entering.

Looking at me from the mirror he licks his lips.

“Sorry yn! Ain’t no way I ain’t siding with my bro.”

“That’s right uce. Day ones!”

Josh turns to me with a smug ass look on his face. Rolling my eyes I turn my attention to my phone ignoring them both.

Sighing I question “how am I going to manage myself with you two double teaming me.”

Jon’s eyes dart to the mirror with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Im sure you’ll be able to take us.” His eyes revert back to the road as we pull up to the restaurant.

Fluttering. Everywhere. That’s the only way I can describe it. There wasn’t a part in my body left that hadn’t been effected by Jon and his words. When I said double teaming me I hadn’t meant anything by it other than then ganging up on me but now, all I can think about is both their hands on me, Josh attacking my neck, Jon all over my breasts sucking and caressing them.

“You’ve been pretty quiet tonight, what’s up?” Trin enquires.

Truth is I’ve been distracted, Jon’s words in the car, watching Jon interact with Trin like a normal husband and wife, the feeling of jealousy and shame washing over me.

“I’m just tired honestly, plus I’ve still got so much to do before I leave for Europe tomorrow.”

“And moody, was all pissy with me in the car earlier, right Jon?”

“She sure was.”

I look at the twins and flip them off making the everyone at the table laugh lightening the mood. I hate how one man has effect me so much. And I know it’s only going to get worse once we kick of the European tour. No wife and me close by for 7 whole days - it has disaster written all over it.

Sorry it’s kinda short, felt like this was a good place to end! Anyhooo

Tagged: @southerngirl41 @missfamilyjeweles @jeyusos-girl @christinabae @jeyusosgirl @raya-hunter01 @harlem11680 @theogsamoanqueen @harmshake

[dmysterioblog]

Chapter III ✧ A Distraction

Paring: Rhea Ripley x Roman Reigns

Summary: Rhea needs a distraction.

Warnings; Smut, cussing

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

A/n: Both me and @tonuitekan wrote this chapter. Also I’m starting a taglist so lmk if you want to be added.

After Damian left Rhea decided that he was right and that she needed to get her shit together at Crown Jewel. She was taking a shower when both Roman and Dom’s messages went through so she didn’t see them. She had also put her phone on dnd to get away from all the drama and have this day to herself. She decided to go downtown and walk around. When she was done with the shower she got dressed, put her shoes on, grabbed her phone and keys and went out the door.

She decided to go down the stairs rather than take the elevator. When she did, she was on her way to the exit when she noticed Zelina chatting with Natalya for a bit before she turned to leave and noticed her. “Oh, Rhea, you’re finally up—“

“Look, if you’re gonna ask, don’t bother.” Rhea immediately said as she began to walk past her. At that, Zelina rolled her eyes and managed to catch up to her.

“Nena por favor,” She said to her as she stood in front of her. “I’m not here to call you out on whatever shit you’re doin’.” At that, Rhea gave her an unconvinced look while the smaller woman spoke to her. “Some of us are minding our business about our own life, okay? Hell, I’m not even interested in making your life miserable or to seek beef with you. And, if I’m being honest here girl, you don’t look okay.” She told her as she gestured at the taller woman while shaking her head. “What I suggest you do is just wind down and forget aaaaaaany issues that you have going on or whatever. For a little bit, at least.”

“Hm. Yeah, you know, that’s exactly what it was going to do, Zelina.” Came out Rhea’s sarcastic remark, along with her sarcastic smirk as she looked down at her. “Which is why I’m asking you to please leave me alone—“

“No-no, wait, hold on, just hear me out.” Zelina interrupted her as she placed a hand in front of her to stop her from leaving. “… I’m not saying that you need it, but… I’m going with a group for drinks tonight.”

At that, Rhea blinked and arched an eyebrow. “And what does that have to do with…?”

Zelina rolled her eyes. “What I’m saying is that you need some booze, puta. That’s where I’m getting at.”

“Zelina, we literally work tomorrow.”

“And? Don’t tell me you’ve never woken up with a hangover before. Girl- if anyone needs it, it’s you.” Zelina pointed at her. “Listen, you do what you gotta do right now. But if you wanna tag along, text me before five-thirty so we can meet here at the lobby.”

“… you know who’s going?”

“Not sure. All I know is that a group is going. Look, Santos said that there’s a bar downtown that he went along with the other guys a few weeks ago and he told all of us that we should go. So right now we’re the ones getting people to join tonight. And right now, I’m getting you to come along, only if you want to.”

Rhea began to ponder, looking away for a few seconds before she turned to deliver her response to Zelina. “… I’ll be here at five.”

At that, Zelina perked up before she blinked, somewhat surprised by Rhea’s quick response. “Wait, for real?”

“Yeah for real, I’ll text you.” She simply said as she walked past her. “But only because I need to wind the fuck down.”

She walked away as Zelina watched her leave, blinking in surprise as she watched her go outside while she spoke to herself. “… okay girl, that’s the energy you need…”

6:00 PM

“We’re here!” Jimmy called out, a huge grin forming on his face as he parked the van near the parking area at the bar. “Also y’all, whoever is driving us back home, you better not get drunk cuz imma get fucked up!”

“Yeah yeah, Jimmy, that means you, right?” Came Finn’s comment as he snorted while Jimmy gave him a look as he sat up from the driver’s seat.

“Man come on, ya know we all need it, even me!” He opened the door as he got out first, all the while the others followed suit.

“Uh yeah, sure, y’all need it, but I’m just saying, we need to be back at the hotel cuz some of us work tomorrow, you know.” Raquel called out as she rolled her eyes, gathering some of her stuff as she followed the others outside as well.

“Well Raquel how ‘bout you keep an eye on us, eh?”

“Nah, not feeling like it.”

“… Damn.”

Disregarding the clamor, chatter and commotion around her, Rhea simply sat up from her place inside the van before she made her way out. She then looked at the bar from the outside, figuring and determining that this was the exact bar Zelina was talking about. She then looked at the time on her watch before she went and followed the group. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt even if she was scheduled to work later. After all, she needed to find some sort of distraction.

“Hey Rips,” She heard Damian’s voice as he caught up to her while they both walked in together along with the others. “Are you doing okay now?”

At the question, she wanted to shrug her shoulders and not say anything but knowing her best friend, she decided to speak. “I’ll be alright. Just need to drink for a bit.”

“Okay. I’ll be tagging along with Dom and the others, alright?” Damian nodded at her, hearing the sound of music almost competing with their voices as soon as they walked in while he opted to speak louder this time just so she could hear him. “If you need anything, we’ll be here!”

“I’ll let you know!” Rhea nodded as they both parted ways. She then sighed, going straight to the bar to order herself something to drink. As she did, Zelina was quick to interrupt her conversation with Carlito while approaching the Australian as she sat down with her.

“See? Told you it wasn’t a bad idea coming here.”

“Don’t get too comfortable. Not gonna thank you yet.” Rhea simply said as she while Zelina wanted to laugh at that.

“Nah, you’re gonna thank me later. Trust me, you will.” The bartender then approached them as Zelina ordered their drinks while Rhea looked out at the crowd of people who were drinking, eating, dancing, chatting, and literally doing anything that you would normally see at a bar.

“Hey.”

At the voice, Rhea perked up as she realized who it belonged to way too well. She turned to her side to see Dom approach her after he was speaking to both Finn and Damian from the other table. “Dom…”

“I left you a few texts. I… saw the ones you left last night.”

At this, Rhea suddenly went silent as she looked down. Zelina noticed this as she looked at the two. “I’ll… just walk away for now. Riri, if you want, imma be with Raquel. You can find us whenever you’re free.”

Rhea only nodded as the bartender served their drinks while Zelina paid for them both. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Lemme know if you’re getting refills!” The shorter woman called out as she was already walking away to Raquel’s table. Once she left, Rhea turned to Dom as she took a deep breath and finally spoke.

“Look. About last night, I…” Rhea told him as she took her drink in her hand and sat down on the stool chair near the bar while Dominik did the same. “I was intending on telling you at some point… but I wasn’t sure when. And I didn’t want to drag it any further, either.”

Dominik looked to his side for a second as he seemed to contemplate on her words. He then looked at her in the eye, with Rhea almost holding her breath and preparing for what he was about to say or do as he spoke.

“… did this all start after we went to help Roman and the Bloodline that night?”

“… yes.”

“How many times since then?”

“Four.” Rhea admitted, deciding to be truthful as a pang of guilt hit her like a tidal wave at that moment. “I wanted to stop it, I really did. But…”

“… you’re feeling something for Roman, aren’t you?” Came his sudden question which made Rhea look up at him, completely speechless.

“Dom, I—“

“Rhea, please.” Dominik sighed. “If it was a one time thing then maybe we would’ve just… you know, act like nothing happened and move on with our lives. I would’ve been fine with it. But four times?”

“But I still wanted to stop it.”

“Did you?” He asked her, almost doubting her sincerity for the first time as he looked at her. Rhea rubbed her forehead as she tried to find the words to speak and looked down.

“Look, I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what I was thinking. If I could take it all back, I would’ve done it by now. Trust me when I say this.” She looked him in the eye once again as she went and held his hand. Dominik looked at it, debating on whether he should hold it back or let go as she continued to speak. “Dom, please. I don’t want this to affect us. What we have. We both work together well, and… honestly, I can’t see myself without you. I can’t.”

He pondered on her words as he looked at her hand holding his, her thumb softly rubbing his knuckles. His gaze then softened after a while as he used his other hand to caress her hand as he spoke. “I need some time, Rhea. Just… let me think about it. And I’m sure you have a lot to think about as well. But right now, we can’t rush things after this. This doesn’t mean I’m leaving the group or anything, but… I just need some time on my own, too.”

Rhea remained silent at his words before she felt Dominik’s hand let go of hers slowly, watching him walk away. She couldn’t even find the words to stop him nor say anything as she watched him leave before she tried to compose herself by drinking. After a while, she left her chair and decided to look for Zelina and Raquel. She needed to distract herself from this shit. She had to.

What she didn’t know was that a certain Tribal Chief was watching her from a distance from where he sat along with Jimmy and Solo.

She had been looking for the two women for a while until she gave up. Sighing deeply, she decided to finish her drink and go back inside the van. Thankfully all of them within the group had access to the van since they shared the same keys, so she was able to go inside and lock the door behind her before she went to find her seat. She sat there for a while before she took a deep breath, still attempting to compose herself while she closed her eyes. She clenched her right fist while holding her phone and purse with the other one, until she could no longer maintain herself as she allowed her shoulders to drop and exhaled deeply.

She allowed a few tears to drop from her eyes, knowing that she needed to let all the pressure that she was feeling out, especially while being alone, all the while she was also quick to wipe them away.

She was going to lose Dom. All because of something she should’ve avoided herself from doing. Seeking help from Roman and the Bloodline was both a good idea and a bad idea at the same time. If only she had known this before, none of this would’ve happened. She only had herself to blame and now, things weren’t looking okay right now.

However, the damage was already done and Dom already spoke. He needed some time and space, even though he was still going to remain with the Judgement Day. Regardless, Rhea was beginning to fear that this was it. If Dom decided to end what they have, they’re done for. She’s done for.

Even though what Dom said about her needing some time to think as well was true, she refused to believe that she had her own doubts and thoughts about this whole thing. She knew she loved Dom, she really did. She’s always loved him ever since he decided to join her, Finn and Damian. He was her partner in crime, her person, her everything.

Someone just like Liv.

At that, she sighed deeply and rubbed her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. She’s moved on from what her and Liv had and that was it. She was different now, and she refused to go back to the way that she was way back then. That was then. Now, all she wanted was for her and Dominik to remain together.

But then, there’s also Roman.

At the simple thought of just his name, she wanted to pull her own hair out. Or better yet, she wanted to punch the window near her. Just by the thought of him she wasn’t even able to think properly to begin with. Ever since their night together, even. Or, more like ever since the second time that they slept together, which was after their match against Bianca and Bobby. At the thought of that moment, she even wanted to drown herself somehow. She didn’t want to remember anything from that moment at all.

However, it was still engrained in her brain, and there was no way to forget about it. Permanently, at least.

Sighing deeply, she went to the small bathroom inside the van as she checked on herself to make sure that it wasn’t obvious that she was crying or anything before she went out, gathering her phone and purse before she went back to the bar, acting as if nothing happened as she began to locate where Zelina and Raquel were, the music being louder this time as most people were already dancing at this rate. It was around 11:00 PM. Hopefully no one was already drunk, or else she would have to see herself dragging a few people back inside the van- one of them probably being Damian.

After a few minutes, she caught sight of Zelina as the smaller woman had left the dance floor and met up with Raquel again. When she turned around, she noticed Rhea approached. “Finally, it took you a while! Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Rhea said as she sat down with them. “I hope I’m not bothering by sitting here.”

“No, you’re good.” Raquel said quickly as she shook her head. “We’re not in the ring right now, Rips. So you’re good, for now.”

Rhea gave her a smirk of her own as she looked at her. “We’ll see about that at Crown Jewel.”

“Oh, we’ll settle that score later, trust me.”

“Oye, oye, oye, we ain’t in the ring tonight, alright? Alright.” Zelina quickly told the two as she snapped her fingers at them. “Tonight it’s all about forgetting our issues temporarily and just living the moment. Speaking of which, let me get us some drinks, be right back!” She hopped off from her seat before going to the bar. Both Raquel and Rhea saw her leave while Raquel chuckled.

“Well, she has a point.” Rhea said as she shrugged. Raquel turned to her as she shifted in her seat.

“Yeah, let’s… you know what, forget about it.” Raquel dismissed. “I sent you a few texts, just wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Yeah. For now, at least.”

“Good. Cuz we’re gonna need you prepared for Crown Jewel, and I mean it. And honestly, if I end up losing first, well… you’d do me a big favor if you end up kicking Nia’s ass.”

“Oh, that’s a promise right there, don’t worry.” Rhea said as she snorted while Raquel snickered. “I’m not gonna let that slide, trust me.”

Both women chuckled amidst the sound of music and chatter before their conversation awkwardly paused for a minute or so. Nevertheless, Raquel looked out at the crowd of people before she looked at Rhea. “You know if… if there’s a chance of speaking about… you know.”

“About what?” Rhea asked as she turned to face her. Raquel seemed hesitant to speak for a moment before she found the will to do so.

“… about the past. You, me, NXT…? And also Liv and—“

“Raquel, no offense, but I’d appreciate it if we leave that conversation in the future.” The champion interrupted her. She didn’t seem mad or upset. She only seemed neutral, which was something that concerned Raquel for a bit. “Right now, I just want to forget temporarily and… it’s been a hell of a weekend.”

“I know, I understand now.” Raquel nodded, placing both of her hands together. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll respect it. But… just whenever you’re ready to talk about it and—“

“Order up!” Zelina’s voice interrupted Raquel immediately as she arrived with three drinks. “And don’t worry, it’s on me.”

“Again? Girl, are you sure you have enough money?” Raquel asked as she turned and took her drink while Zelina sat back down with them.

“I’ll be alright.” She reassured her. “Now come on. ¡Salud!”

“¡Salud!”

“Cheers!”

The three women clinked their drinks at the same time together before they began to drink.

The night went a bit fast for the group until it was around 2 AM. The bar was beginning to close just as the group was leaving. While some of them had gotten drunk, others were still sober and somewhat sleepy as they took a small nap in the van, waiting until they arrived at the hotel. Solo, who was driving and taking Jimmy’s place after the latter had indeed gotten “fucked up” as one would say, had already announced the group that they arrived back at the hotel as they started to wake up and get out the van.

On their way back inside, Finn and Solo had to carry a drunken Jimmy while Dominik and Rhea were helping Damian back inside his room. The others also made their way back to their rooms as the hotel was a bit empty and quiet. After a while, Rhea and Dom were able to get Damian sobered up as he was now resting on his bed. Both of them left the room after Dominik made sure that the other male was okay before he turned to Rhea.

“Well, I’ll… see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Yeah… sleep well.” Rhea nodded as she folded her hands inside her pocket. Dominik kissed her temple and gave her a small smile before he began to walk away. Rhea then began to dither before she decided to speak up.

“Dom?”

“Hm?”

“… I’m sorry.”

“…I know. Take care, Rhea. And get some rest.”

With that, Dominik looked down for a second before he went to his room. After he left, the champion herself exhaled as she leaned her back against the wall. She didn’t feel tired nor sleepy at all. There was no use of her going back inside her room just to mop and contemplate about herself and her thoughts. She needed a distraction. Something to make her forget for a bit, again.

Suddenly, she remembers that the bar at the lobby downstairs was still open and that it only closed at 4:30 AM. She looked at the time on her watch. It was 2:20 AM. She could probably still go down and give herself at least one more drink. Perhaps maybe a swim around the pool too, if it was still open.

Making her choice, instead of going to her room, she went to the elevator and down to the lobby.

The ambience within the bar inside the hotel was unlike the one in which the group went to. It was a bit quiet, hence the lack of customers inside as well as with the calming music. Rhea had sat alone as she had her first drink, trying not to contemplate on how she should’ve probably been spending some time with Dominik instead of just being there alone with her own thoughts.

She shifted in her seat, looking up at the TV that was hanging by the corner of the bar, an episode of Private Practice playing as she could only opt to bore her eyes at the show. While she wasn’t a big fan of TV series and she was more of a fan of horror, thinking about doing any of her favorite things was the last thing on her mind right now. What she needed was anything to distract her from everything in her life right now.

It was then that she suddenly realized that when she had her phone in her hand, she remembered that she had placed her phone on DND since she left her room. Quickly, she unlocked her phone and turned her notifications on. Aside from needing to check her emails, she went to her texts first.

One text from Dominik which was from this morning:

‘Can we please talk rn?’

Well, they already did. So that was done… not in the way that Rhea wanted it to, but it was already done. She then went to the next; Zelina’s texts.’

‘Hope you’re doing ok!’ - Sent after they arrived from the bar.

‘Waiting for u at the lobby, wear something nice, girl!’ - Sent to her before heading to the bar.

Next up, she went and opened Raquel’s messages- something that she found untrusting, yet again, but it still didn’t hurt to open them. Most of them, which were about six texts, were mostly asking about if she was alright + hearing what happened the other night, but other than that, nothing.

Rhea then closed every message and even made sure to reply to any that she saw that needed a response. However, once she did, she realized that she missed one. And when she realized who it was, she didn’t even want to open it.

Roman.

‘We need to talk. I’m heading to your room rn.’

Her eyes widened at that as she immediately locked her phone, wishing that she didn’t open the message. It was sent to her this morning before she left. She began to process everything in her head as she looked at the time in which the message was sent. Roman had sent the message around the same time she went downstairs. Meaning that Roman could’ve possibly taken the elevator while she went down the lobby. She rubbed her face and grumbled beneath her breath. This could only mean that Roman was still actually seeking her even after everything that went down. Hell, she even unknowingly avoided him this entire day, all because she was too focused on avoiding her issues.

The question was, why did he want to talk to her? Didn’t he blame her for continuing on with their fling?

All of the sudden she heard a deep voice beside her.

“I’ll pay for her drink and a bourbon whiskey.”

And speak of the devil…

“Roman, what are you doing here?” Rhea said with an annoyed tone.

“I could say the same thing. I just wanted one last drink for the night, what about you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You became my business ever since we made that deal, and ever since we fu-”

“Yes I know, I was there. No need to remind me. That still doesn’t give the right.”

“Look, I'm just trying to help.”

“Well, I don't need your help.”

“I remember saying the same thing back then before being proved wrong by you.”

“You know what, I don’t have time to listen to this nonsense,” Rhea snapped. She chugged the rest of her drink and she was about to get up but was stopped by Roman grabbing her arm like before they had their first affair except this time she didn’t struggle.

“Do you think if I truly didn’t care I would be here?” Roman asked with a soft voice. Rhea didn’t reply instead she sighed and looked away.

“Rhea?”

“...”

“Rhea, look at me.”

“No, Roman, I’ve had enough.” This time Rhea started to walk away, Roman hot on her heels.

“Ripley, wait-”

“Roman, I need some fucking time-”

“Time for what? To drown in your own self pity or the fact that no one has actually taken the time to check on you?” Rhea didn’t know if it was the alcohol in her system or what Roman said but a tear ran down her cheek but quickly wiped it off before Roman saw it. They stopped in front of the elevator doors waiting for the doors to open in silence. The doors finally opened and they went in, that's when Rhea decided to speak.

“You don’t know shit about me, Reigns. And let me make this clear, my business is not your business. Get that through your thick skull.”

“Well as of lately your business also involves me, therefore it is not just your business, it is also mine,” he said standing in front of her while the elevator doors closed behind him, “and until all those problems you got going on are solved and you start acting like yourself, I will not be stepping back.”

“You’re very irritating, you know? But do whatever you want, that’s what you do anyway-” She was cut off by Roman roughly pushing her against the wall and claiming her lips.

“You argue too much,” Roman said into her lips. Rhea just stared at him, doe eyed debating whether she really wanted to push him away or not. Right then, the elevator doors dinged open. Roman looked at Rhea as if asking ‘where do you want to go’ she just nodded but he knew exactly what she meant.

He tapped her leg twice, signaling her to jump on him. He carried her to his hotel room, closing the door with his foot all while still kissing her. He placed her on the bed and started to take his clothes off, discarding them on the floor. Rhea sat back, leaning on her elbows admiring his toned body.

“Are you going to stay there staring or are you going to take those off?” he pointed at her clothes. She smirked before taking her shirt off and throwing it at him, revealing nothing underneath. He shook his head at her antics then crawled on top of her, kissing from her stomach up to her chest. She released soft moans when he began to suck and caress her breast, she ran her fingers through his hair as he did so. Rhea closed her eyes and let herself feel for once.

Roman mentally made it his mission to make her feel good after all the pain she had been going through. He slowly took her pants and panties off, taking his time admiring her like the first time. He wasted no time in putting her legs over his shoulders and putting his mouth to work. He shamelessly lapped over her wet folds like it was his last meal. Rhea's grip on his hair got tighter as her moans got louder. Her moans a sweet melody to his ears.

“Roman- I’m close,” she slurred out. Right when she said that he stopped his movements. She whined and opened her mouth to protest but Roman didn’t let her.

“Shh, I'll be right back,” he said before disappearing through the bathroom door. Rhea could only sigh in desperation. When he came back he was putting on a condom. When he got to the edge of the bed Rhea got on her knees and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Roman was taken aback but kissed her back immediately.

“Roman, fuck me please.”

He gently laid her back on the bed and placed a pillow under her back to make sure she was comfortable. He got in between her legs and entered her dripping core. Roman gave her a few seconds to adjust to his size before he began to move. Rhea pulled him down, her nails scratching his back while he kissed and sucked her neck and collarbone. Her moans only edge him to speed up his movements.

“Please don’t stop, Roman, I'm close,” she begged into his ear.

“I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

They had gone multiple rounds throughout the night and it was now 4 am. Both Rhea and Roman were worn out. Roman got up to throw away the third used condom of the night and went into the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean Rhea up but when he got back into the room she was already asleep.

He placed the cloth back in the bathroom before getting into bed with Rhea. And right before falling into a deep slumber, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her body closer to his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead while gently caressing her lower back until sleep had finally taken over him.