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tacticaldiary · 11 months

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omg saw your post and yes i’d love to see jealous fic with any of the cod men, especially simon >>>>>

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort ; Jealousy

He's not a man who acts impulsively, but this might be the one time he throws caution to the wing and takes the one thing he wants.

A/N: Ghost won by a massive majority so here he is! (I read all of your asks, just chose this one to link the fic to!)

Masterlist

He was an enigma.

Quick to act and as observant as a cat on the field, Ghost picked up the smallest of details and clicked them all together in his head in milliseconds. Acting quickly and efficiently could be the distinction between life and death, after all.

So why the hell wasn't he as observant now?

She had spent months and months dropping hints. Lingering touches, secret smiles. At times, she might as well have told him up front how she fancied him with how she acted, but never once had Ghost reciprocated properly.

"Ya joining us, aren't ya?" Soap grins at her as they walk out of their respective locker rooms together. "Won't be the same without someone to go easy on the eyes." He snickers when she scoffs, nudging him with an elbow.

"I'll be there." She's unable to hold back a smile when he cheers and slings an arm around her shoulders.

From the corner of her eye, she catches Ghost on the far side of the hallway. He must not have gotten a chance to shed his gear yet. He's talking to Price, both of them engaged in what looks like a serious conversation, but every so often his eyes flitter over to her and Soap...more intense than usual?

It strikes her as odd, the heat behind his glances and a sneaking suspicion creeps into her mind. Grinning to herself, she wraps an arm around Soap's waist and tugs him closer while they walk, listening to him talk about the bar everyone plans to hit tonight.

His spine straightens and she swears she sees his arms tense, folded across his chest.

But he says nothing, Simply turns back to Price and doesn't spare her another glace when they walk by.

At this point, she just wants him to either confirm or reject her so she can get out of this eternal limbo of dancing back and forth. She knows he feels the same way to some degree, that much is clear to her. The way he sits next to her for hours when she gets injured on call and has to recover in the medbay, the rest of the 141 gone, late into the night.

She sees it in the way he has no problem guiding her by a warm hand on the small of her back, the way his eyes are the first to flicker to her mouth whenever she talks during a debriefing.

The interest it there, and it certainly isn't platonic. Not with the intensity of the tension between them.

Yet he never acts.

Never accepts her advances, but never pushes her away or rejects her either.

It was driving her crazy.

Fine. If he wanted to keep playing this strange game, he could keep doing so. It doesn't mean that she has to go along with it. She deserved to have some fun after their particularly gruelling mission too, right?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The club is a new one, not yet broken in by the tradition of the team winding down after a deployment. Old school wooden bars and stool mixed with a modern twist of sleek decor, she rather likes it.

Strapped in a dress that had been in her closet for months unused, she makes herself forget about her back and forth with Ghost and just...enjoy herself.

Soap had been on her the second she entered, waving her over, Gaz pushing a drink into her hand with a cheeky smile. Price nurses a glass of whiskey by the bar. The only one she doesn't see is Ghost.

Sitting over at the bar listening to the boys go back and forth over what type of alcohol they preferred, she's mulling over whether to head to the floor. Deciding against it she waves the bartender over and asks for a refill.

"Put that on my tab." A man slides into the stool next to her, offering her a smile.

"Are you sure?" She asks, straightening up. The first thing she notices is that he's attractive. A strong jaw, lean and rich brown skin.

"Positive." He chuckles. "It'd be my honour to buy a drink for someone as gorgeous as you." His eyes rake over her once, before he drags them back to her eyes confidently.

The attention makes heat creep up her ears, not because it was particularly new, she's not a stranger to lingering glances, but because it's so blatant. Something tells her this man is not used to getting told no.

Not that she has any intention to do so.

She catches Price's eye, a silent raise of an eyebrow asking if she needed any help. Tired of mulling over someone who refused to reciprocate, she gives her Captain a subtle shake of the head and turns her body towards the man.

It makes her heart warm, how much Price cares about her and the others outside of them being his subordinates. There has to be a certain level of trust between people personally for them to completely trust each other on the field, and trust was something integral to all of them.

He introduces himself as Noah and strikes up a conversation that genuinely keeps her engaged. She's surprised to find out he watches her favourite show, and they share quite a few common interests.

While he's talking about what he does for a living, she feels a shiver run up her spine, eyes at the back of her head.

Looking around the room, it's not difficult to pinpoint the perpetrator.

Ghost looks...well, he look good, he always does, but there's a tightness to his posture like she saw back in that hallway with Soap. His jaw is ticked as he glares at Noah.

His eyes soften the barest bit when they meet hers.

No. No, she wasn't doing this right now. She was having fun with Noah right now, not thinking about Simon striding over towards her, pulling her up and out of the stool. That would not happen, she knows it. He wouldn't act on whatever was getting him riled up.

So she keeps talking to Noah, and yes, maybe she is being a little more animated than before. Perhaps she is giving him wider, flirtier smiles and leaning into him when he talks. Maybe her laughs are louder and her maybe she does place a hand on his arm once or twice but it's all because she would rather throw herself into this conversation than think about the other man staring holes into the back of her head.

At one point, Noah leans in close to her ear. "I can tell I have you impressed. What do you say I show you what other aspects of my shining...personality in a more private place?" He winks.

Simon wouldn't have been this forward, she thinks. He would've...what? Would he have taken his time with her? Bought her more than a single drink? He wasn't one for small talk so maybe he'd skip it altogether and...why on Earth was she thinking about that? Frustration bubbles up inside her as she berates herself for getting lost in her head again. None of that would happen because-...well, he wasn't even there anymore, wasn't leaning near the bar where he'd been staring at her.

See? He didn't care enough to act otherwise. His absence proves it.

So with the desperate need to distract herself, she smiles at Noah. "You're just full of good ideas, aren't you?" She says, standing to smooth the wrinkles in her dress. Noah joins her, a hand to the small of her back, leading her away from the bar (she's not thinking about how Simon's hands are bigger, warmer, and rougher-).

"She's busy." If the familiar gruff voice didn't stop her in her track, the hand circling her wrist definitely did.

"Excuse me?" Noah retorts, eyes narrowing. He has to look up to meet Simon's eyes, looking between him and the hand on her wrist. "And who are you?" He snips, and she's a little surprised at the sudden nasty tone of voice. So much so, she frowns at him and steps out of his hold, coincidentally closer to Simon.

"None of your business." Simon's anger is subtle, but there, like the growl of a dog before he bites, and she'd be lying if it didn't make her shiver.

"I do think it's my business. We were just leaving." Noah goes to grab her, but Simon tugs her into his side, putting himself between them.

"I'm going to tell you to get lost once. The consequences of whether you choose to listen or not are gonna be on you, mate." His accent is thicker when he's talking as low as he is, and Noah must have the sense to heed the threat lacing his words because he grits his jaw and walks out the doors alone, muttering curses under his breath as he leaves.

She's...well, she's stunned at the display of...whatever that was. His hand hasn't left her wrist. In fact, he doesn't speak to her, just pulls her along to a more secluded part of the bar, the hallway that leads to the restrooms. Music fades into the background and chatter recedes until it's just the two of them.

"What is it, Simon?" She sighs, yanking her hand free. "What was that about?"

"You were just gonna leave with him?" He asks incredulously. "Without knowing where the hell he was taking you or giving someone else a location to find you? Are you daft?" She bristles at the chiding.

"Are you fucking with me?" She blinks up with him. "I'm a grown ass woman, Simon. I can make my own calls."

"Doesn't mean they're good ones."

"What is your problem?!" She exclaims, and the months of dwelling frustration finally come pouring out. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not going to pretend that I'm not...that I don't like you because I've made it pretty damn clear that I do, and I think you know that too. You do nothing but watch, and I'm sick of it." She shoves his chest, huffing when he doesn't budge. Keeping her hands where they are, she balls them into fists. "How fucking dare you try and act all possessive now when you barely have the balls to choose between rejecting me and getting closer! How dare you try and get in the way when you-"

"Bloody hell, woman." He cuts in with a low growl, and he moves so suddenly she doesn't register him tugging his mask up to his nose and crashing his lips over hers. A strong arm circles her waist, walks her backwards until he back hits the walls and closes the gap between their bodies.

God, she's so glad she didn't go home with Noah.

It's intoxicating.

He's intoxicating.

He doesn't stop until she's breathless, until he's all consuming in her thoughts. When he pulls back, barely a centimetre, she can hear him whisper over the humming in her ears.

"That close enough for you, love?" He says lowly, his breath ghosting over her lips. "Think I got my stance on you across?"

She swallows, steadying her breathing, feeling herself flush. He's all muscle and power against her body, better than what she thought he'd feel like.

"I don't know." She hums. "You might have to show me again so I can be sure."

His small huff of amusement makes her smile giddily before he kisses her again, and all feel right in the world., the tightness in her chest settling down.

Who knew jealousy could lead to such a sweet end to the night?

"Steamin' Jesus!" A Scottish drawl breaks them apart, she clutches onto Simon like she's just been caught doing something bad. Soap whoops out a laugh and eyes the both of them victoriously at the both of them before striding back out of the hallway, calling out; "Gaz, ya' owe me ten bucks!"

"Fucking hell." She giggles when Simon's head drops to her shoulder.

Requests Are Open!

(20/06/2023)

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l0velylecter · 1 year

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imagine...

characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, alejandro vargas, captain john price, phillip graves, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : m for suggestive themes, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) tags & warnings : cursing & mentions of sex, female body parts, not proofread

imagine price coming home at the same time as his ( extremely successful ) missus and leaning against the doorway to watch her undress in their walk-in closet. the mere sight of her under the gentle, orange glow of the lights, slightly bent over the table to take off her ( south sea, celine ) pearl earrings across the mirror enough to make him drop everything and just watch. silent, focused, entranced: price's eyes moved slowly, roaming down the bra and her sheer black pantyhose. when she stops at the realization of being watched, he only fondly tells her to continue, voice low and gruff — don't stop now, love.

imagine graves crossing his arms together and tilting his head to get a better view of his babygirl applying lipstick: laser-focused on how she rubs her lips together — rogue red (charlotte tilbury) staining the tip of her thumb as she swipes to fix it. graves only chuckles against her neck when she scolds him for ruining her hard work, his hands already hiking up her dress to palm her ass.

imagine soap melting against the soft and warm lap of his bonnie as she runs her hand across his hair, fingers grazing the scalp and turning his head into mush. his mind still heady from the lazy makeout session against the couch. she thanks him for taking her out on a pedicure, hands already trailing down his chest and down his abdomen to unbuckle his pants, eager to show him just how pretty her fingers look around his —

imagine gaz gawking at the set of wheels his love got him for his birthday, only recovering from the shock when she twiddled her fingers nervously, face crumbling at the thought of him disliking it. he immediately hopped behind the wheel to reassure her, fingers tentatively touching the leather interior. when the engine purred to life, he let out an excited cheer, eyes lighting up like a child’s on christmas. he can’t wait anymore, locking the door to push the passenger seat of his new aston martin v8 all the way to the backseat — pinning her under him, hands running down her sides. he wanted to thank his darling, in more ways than one. imagine alejandro having to yell at one of his men for jogging straight into a pole because he was distracted by his cariño — eyes in front, cabrón! she can't help but let out a bewildered laugh at his sudden outburst, running her hands down his shoulders to soothe his temper: reminding him that he's supposed to be lenient with rookies. flustered, alejandro had dragged her inside one of the tents, zipping the entrance up before trapping her against a table. she mentioned how silly it was for him to compliment her sundress only to rip it off. he says he’ll get her a new one. imagine ghost pinning both her hands against the wall, a scowl under his balaclava as he snarls — you fucking brat. she lifts her chin in defiance to retort with a snarky comment. a moment later, she's weeping, sobbing, begging against his chest: three of his fingers barely pushing past her entrance. he stares at how her mascara stains her cheeks, lips trembling and legs shaking, clenching down his wrist as they try to balance themselves on sleek, black stilettos. not satisfied, he flips her so that she has her palms flat against the window ledge, ass bare for him to discipline some obedience into her.

a/n : i don’t know what would be a good title for this but these are just my midnight thoughts... i love the army couple trope , where reader fights side by side with the men, those are really chef’s kiss because it means the characters understand each other ( e.g : when it’s an afab! reader and it touches up on their struggles as a female officer in the army ) but i also need a benefactress or old money heiress or fashionable human rights lawyer or cia informant f!reader [ i used her instead of ‘you’ in the imagine above to test the waters but feel free to make it a self insert! ] who sucks with a gun in her hand but excels in other fields of counter-terrorism or even as a housewife/work wife/civilian. i know it sounds less realistic or even impossible, but to be fair, considering how military operations often need help from external divisions such as law, humanitarian aid, medicine, etc. it is more than possible + God forbid these women have military husbands who work covert and dangerous operations as if they also don't have hounds nipping their heels and praying on their downfall by playing dirty with the kind of money and information they carry. Although distinctly different, they can definitely relate to each other in more ways than one and maintain a form of mutual respect, understanding and even love.

( i just don't have the depth and writing skills to explain my thoughts and this very specific trope that itches my brain yet, but just wait babes i'll get back to my point in the future i swear 😭) additional hcs for imagine above : → i can see gaz as a long time james bond fan, so the car referenced was from the most recent bond movie starring daniel craig : no time to die → i always see price and his dynamic with the missus ( wife ) as a george & amal clooney kind of vibe, except george in this case is jonathan and not an award winning silver fox but rather a medal decorated war hero silver fox. she would be a human rights lawyer ( and i’m sure she treats gaz like her own son and has met simon a few times due to how many missions he used to run with her husband back in the day ) → soap + a bimbo gf, he would adore her.... → graves wants to live that lana del rey national anthem life so bad it’s embarrassing ( me too ) where he owns a holiday home by the lake + he dreams of having a son when he retires so he can make him wear expensive khaki shorts and teach him how to fish ( highkey enjoys golf ) → alejandro falls victim to his girl showing up to base in a cute sundress only to find out she’s not wearing any underwear. he simultaneously loves and hates it. → ghost has a crying kink, don’t get me wrong, he has been through a lot and his trauma probably won’t make him enjoy any sadistic kinks. but he does like manhandling you and is not afraid of being a little rough, and seeing you all vulnerable and crying ( out of pleasure ) just drives him feral. plus, it turns him on to fuck you when you look so dolled up and pretty ( gives him a reason to mess you up ) + likes the fact that you’re bratty too

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hometoursandotherstuff · 9 months

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You've got to see this renovated 2001 Pink Mediterranean estate right on the banks of the Hudson River in Nyack, New York. It has 5bds, 6.5ba, & is priced at $2.750M. Now, this is a Mediterranean estate, so we expect to see cream-colored walls, wrought iron, wood beams, etc. Let's go inside.

Check it out- I did not expect this.

Ultra-Modern with a lot of Greek column action goin' on. Look at the Hudson River visible from all the way back here.

This great room is huge. B/c it's in New York, a room like this would be great for entertaining in the winter.

The dining room is so plain. The only thing it has is ceiling decor. The room would be blank if it wasn't for the wall decor, curtains, etc.

The large kitchen has sleek cabinetry that looks like office furniture. There's some funky pink stuff on the ceiling, and a rounded casual dining area.

Off to the side of the kitchen is a family room. This is nice.

The view of the great room from the mezzanine.

I had to look at this for several seconds before I realized it was the top of the stairs. I never saw a landing with more stairs.

There's a living room back here.

I can't tell if this is the main bd. It must be, it's the only bedroom photo.

The walk-in closet dressing room. This is amazing- the glass cases.

Look at this bathroom.

Vast rec room with little electric cars and a bar, but look at the disco dance floor. Cue "Stayin' Alive."

The bar isn't too big, but it's got a nice tropical vibe.

Deck overlooking the Hudson River. That must be the Mario Cuomo Bridge.

There's a pool, plus many patios and terraces. The land totals .62 acre.

Here you can see that it's on the bank of the Hudson. Look at the long pier.

#mediterranean estate #estates #houses #house tours #home tour

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zcorners120 · 2 years

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shut up, and get in. (pt. 2)

requested by @oneafterdark

arthur leclerc x fem!reader

synopsis; Arthur's mixed feelings surface, causing your relationship to twist from enemies to.. ?

warnings; close proximity, none

MASTER LIST

He opens the car door for you, letting your soggy shoes squelch across the grand driveway. Walking up to the mahogany double doors, you take off your jacket that was clinging to your cold and wet body, wringing the water from it.

You stop walking and groan, knowing that the rest of your clothes will be no better. Arthur catches up to you, and plucks the jacket from your hand whilst still walking up to the doors.

"Uh-" You spoke, but being interrupted by him.

"Hurry up, I don't want you getting hypothermia." His deep voice spoke out, so you speed-walk over behind him.

He opens the door with a fumble with his keys, and holds the door open. You walk in and take in the huge space that consists of a grand piano, high ceilings with the walls adorned with huge windows. Plants scattered about in all different greens, and abstract paintings finishing the walls.

You stand next to the door awkwardly, feeling odd being so into his personal space. He looks at you, sensing the tension. Your clothes carry on dripping, making small taps against the floor.

"So, I thought-" You start, trying to break the tension.

"You can-" You both started talking at the exact same time, making this even worse.

"Uhm, go ahead." You say meekly, slightly shivering and wanting to get a taxi home already.

"I'll lead you upstairs, you can take a shower and I'll give you some clothes." He says firmly, looking down at your jacket before moving onwards, looking back to see you following slowly.

You walk behind up the winding staircase, wondering what's going through his mind.

He opens a door, revealing a king size bed, the rooms aesthetic full of modern toned greys, whites and blacks. Embellished with medals and trophies, his room stunting his career.

"You can give me your clothes, and go through that door to shower." He says, laying on the bed and turning the television on that was on the opposite wall.

You blush profusely red, realising you were in his room, going to shower in his bathroom, all whilst he wants your clothes. He looks at you, confused.

"I'll just leave my clothes in the bathroom." You say embarrassed, hoping this wasn't an attempt to get you naked.

"Fine by me." He says, standing from the bed to open some drawers and his closet doors, turning to hand you a top of his.

"Thank you." Your short reply showed your real personality coming back. This was comical, you and Arthur Leclerc playing niceties in his room?

You took the gesture, thinking that he knew you had a rough day and both of your emotions were up in the air. Turning away from him, you opened the door to his bathroom.

The shower wall was covered in intricate emerald tiles, with big white towels in little storage compartments next to the sink ready. The tiles extended down to the bottom of the wall, showing the sleek and clear glass pane to the shower. Looking to your right you saw a tremendous claw foot tub that looked practically untouched, with a window above, showing the incredible views of the Monaco coastline.

You instantly adored the interior designer who worked on his house, because it was truly incredible. Moving away from his impressive house, you started slugging off your worn and soaked clothes hearing them thump onto the tiled floor miserably.

You turned the squeaky shower knob, turning the water on. You step into the warmth, enveloping you into a well needed hug. You stood there as the water pours down onto you, regaining the feeling of your feet back.

You thought you shouldn't be using his water for so long, since he probably wants you out as soon as possible.

You turn the water off, and step out to dry yourself off with a towel. You put your underwear back on, and slip his oversized top on, knowing you can't put your damp jeans back on.

You plait your wet hair into a single dutch braid, and step out holding your wet clothes. If you thought your confusing feelings for Arthur weren't prominent enough, then you were in trouble. You made eye contact with him as he's laying on his bed, shirtless, wearing black joggers and a chain.

His messy blonde hair screaming at you to run before you get any ideas. But little did you know, is that he was also internally freaking out. Seeing you in his top, looking so delicate, and wholesome.

"Come sit." He spoke out, trying to fight his body to stop looking at you.

You walk over, sitting at the side of his bed awkwardly, getting your phone out to open the Uber app.

"I'll call myself a ride, thank you for.. everything you know." You said softly, trying to show your appreciation.

"No, you're staying. I'm not letting you go off with some random dude in the dark thunderstorm." The Monegasque quickly retaliates.

"Uber is a trusted app, thank you very much. Plus, where would I even sleep?" You retort, surprised by his comment.

"You'd be with me, obviously. We can watch a movie, we can separate the bed with pillows, and we'll go to work together." He says, as if this is something he had done a million times before.

"Bold to assume that I like that plan." You snort, his ego showing as per.

"Anything including me, you love." He shoots back, sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm picking the movie." You state, snatching the remote out of his grip, moving up to the top of the bed resting your back against the pillow.

He moved up next to you, slightly smirking at your attitude. You pick to watch 'extraction', as you absolutely adore action movies. As the movie progresses and the outside world slips deeper and deeper into the night, you subconsciously got under the covers, as Arthur moved inches closer to you, knowing what he was doing.

The movie becomes quieter and vaguer as you slip into the tricks of sleeping. You had turned away from the movie and towards Arthur, snuggling your head into the comfortable cotton pillow.

He turned to see you sleeping, and turned the movie off, laying down next to you. He tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear, as he also slipped into his own dreams.

Waking up was definitely a shock to the system, realising you were tightly wrapped in Arthur's arm, his shirt that you were wearing ridden up, nearly indecently exposing yourself.

Trying to slowly peel his arm off you and get up, he only pressed you closer to him.

This is the moment you realised that your feelings were clear, and so were his, even if he was unconscious.

A/N; not totally sure on whether i like this or not, oops

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eskeptical · 4 months

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re-ignition (III)

miguel o'hara x reader word count: 1.7k summary: you make an attempt to prove Miguel wrong.

To prove you were ready to be assigned back on missions. That was what Miguel O’Hara wanted of you.

How he wanted you to prove it, however, remained unclear and hazy, like the thick fog that tends to creep in the early mornings (in your dimension, that is - Earth 928 never seemed to have any other setting than the typical clear-skied default as far as you could tell).

It had been a week since the storage closet incident, and a week since you set on doing everything in your power to get back on mission duty.

You knew very well that your former self would be repulsed at the sight of you beating Miguel to the cafeteria with a coffee ready in hand to give, maybe an empanada if you were feeling a tad more desperate than usual.

(You felt yourself sickening quicker at the fact you could subconsciously remember something so useless as his preference - one packet of brown sugar - from a time where you had observed it from the sleek kitchen counter at his place.)

How else were you supposed to prove yourself? Your only chance had been shot straight to hell - with you responsible for the terrible aim - and training until exhaustion had only won you sore limbs and the smell of sweat and ashy concrete stuck onto the image of the training center.

Your gaze turned towards the metal material surrounding your wrist, and a scoff escaped at the sight of it. The annoyingly orangey modern interface and the cold, technological font with the two words that had been practically engraved onto it given the frequency with which they appeared any time you attempted to navigate through its features made it as useful as a flimsy day pass.

Access denied.

Wandering around the vast area bustling with activity, it seemed like everyone seemed to be busy with something - whether it was insignificant chatter or heading off to trap anomalies. The idea of the latter bit at your sides - to see so many others doing what you wanted so desperately would definitely begin your undoing, you were sure of it.

That is, until you saw a small orange-tinged figure with heart shaped sunglasses, a blue and white captain hat, and a notepad glitching around the lobby.

And with her, an idea popped into your head.

“Lyla!” you called out, to which she quickly turned her head and in a blink popped up a foot away from you. From a closer distance, you noticed her notepad was filled with doodles and curves to appear as though she had written something. She raised a brow, and lifted her glasses.

“I need your help with something. Are you up for it?”

In response, she smiled widely before answering with a chirp and raising her hand as if to salute, “At your service.”

Miguel's office hadn’t changed from when you'd last seen it months ago. Though, in a similar fashion, your fascination for it remained constant.

In a way, to you it had always served as a peek into the thoughts hidden behind his stoic stance and firm personality. Unlike every other aspect of the Spider Society headquarters - geometric, clean, orderly, and annoyingly perfect - his office contained roughness in it, gravel, uncut edges, scribbles and sketches personified. Always filled with projects gathering dust, too irrelevant when put at the side of greater issues like saving the multiverse and whatever it is that kept him far more occupied.

Unfinished, unpolished, a jumble of thoughts and ideas mixed together in metal and nanotechnology and bolts - and yet it brought a sense of relief to see it, knowing that even Miguel, despite how much he might try to pretend otherwise, isn’t perfect, or as clean-cut as the rest of Nueva York seemed in his dimension.

Finally glancing over to the orange figurine who had been trailing beside you as you walked, you asked, “So…have there been any new updates while I was gone..?”

The question had been worming its way to existence for a while now. As far as you had observed, it didn’t seem like it - then again, it’s not like you had been physically present on any of Miguel’s squad’s missions to confirm it fully.

Lyla looked at you with a smug grin on her face and a raised eyebrow, “You mean you want to know whether or not he’s replaced you on the team?”

Your eyes widened as the seemingly damp air paired with her getting straight to the point suddenly seemed to warm up your cheeks in an instant.

“No…no, I was just wondering in terms of, like, the Spider Society as a whole, or–”

Lyla rolled her eyes and gave out a single laugh, “He hasn’t.”

A breath you didn’t know you had been holding captive bubbled its way out of your lips. An exhale, one that Lyla quickly registered and chuckled over. You weren’t sure how much she knew about your past with Miguel, and you weren’t about to beat around the subject to draw any suspicions.

You finally reached him, well, almost - it didn’t help that his platform was way up high.

(He had told you once the reasoning for it: he liked the lighting better up there, though the hidden vulnerability in his glance and the closing of his fists had you convinced that there was more to it.

Still, you never inquired further.)

As with most things, Miguel was a step ahead, and before you could say anything, he spoke, his voice loud and firm.

“Why are you here? You don’t have access here.”

“I don’t have access anywhere. Lyla let me in.”

You smiled, if you could call it that - it was more a mix of cowardice and wary eyes as the corners of your lips attempted to lift.

The platform lowered enough where you could see his face. His eyebags had gotten heavier, you noticed. His expression held indifference, and his hands were planted firmly on his hips.

(Still, you had to admit that even in the worst of shapes, you couldn’t pull away from looking at the sharp cheekbones and set jaw. Magnetic, almost.)

He stepped down, every step firm as he approached you. His lips were pursed, and he raised an eyebrow as he looked over to Lyla, who simply shrugged with a mischievous grin.

Miguel sighed, and turned his gaze back to you with an air of bitterness, saying nothing more.

However-

However, he wasn’t kicking you out. You know he would have done so already if he really wanted to.

So, naturally, you took it as a chance to continue. Scraping at the very bottom of what little perseverance and self-confidence you had left, you pulled a firm voice as you looked at him and said, “I’m ready to get back on the team.”

Miguel’s expression hardly changed. He had been expecting it, you suppose. Of course he had. He probably had prepared for it from his platform, observing your every move. He looked you up and down, and for a second, it almost looked like how he used to look at you months ago.

Before you could confirm it, his expression hardened again, and he simply nodded towards your empty hands.

“I assume you’re not here to bring me another coffee. You’re not a people pleaser, so it isn’t surprising you gave up so easily.”

He took a step closer.

“And you at training. Was that supposed to impress me?”

You scoffed, and rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t trying to-”

“No?” he interrupted, and you knew him well enough to tell that under the serious question, a hint of teasing was buried somewhere. “You’re not ready-”

With this, you lunged at him. You hoped the surprise attack would demonstrate the fruits of your efforts, but he caught your intent quickly, turning you around in one move and wrapping one of his arms around your stomach, the other grabbing both of your arms and keeping them in place.

His cologne, you noticed, was the same. Deliciously intoxicating, addictive enough to the point where you had to do everything in your power to not think about it, about him. If only things were like they had been months ago…

He seemed to sense it too.

His chest rose and fell quicker as it pressed into your back, and his face was close enough to whisper in your ear, hot air warming up your neck, making it inconceivably hard to concentrate. His lips were easily close enough to brush against your ear, and you account for the part of you that wished he did to be a surfacing remnant of the past.

He clicked his tongue, and hesitated before whispering, his hushed voice sent goosebumps like fire to your nape.

“You had a bad start. Not enough force.”

Still, you knew you hadn’t been the only one. You swallowed, before speaking the words that you hoped weren't implying wrong like they had before.

“But…you still didn’t expect it, did you? I saw your eyes. Your arm faltered for a second there.”

This caused him to release you, taking a step back, as his voice lowered, “...You’re wrong.”

There was no need to correct him or respond otherwise. The small doubt in his voice was enough to prove you right.

(And perhaps a tinge of red on his cheeks would have too, though a silly blush would be more of a wish from you than a reality.)

He noticed the slip up, he must have - shortly after he turned around, his back facing you, you could see his arm raise to rub the bridge of his nose.

You weren’t sure what that meant, what all of it meant. Your plan to surprise him hadn’t exactly gone the way you wanted, and you should have expected it. Any plans involving Miguel O’hara never did.

His guards were now raised, so there was no point in attempting to take him by surprise again. Sighing, you turned around to walk out.

“...Be here tomorrow morning.”

You turned around, shocked, “Did-”

“And don’t think it’s because of your plan, which was really stupid, by the way.”

“Then why?” Your confidence had grown enough to ask, and though it was a tad invasive for your liking, hopefully it would draw out more out of him.

Then again, hope would have been too much to ask for. He still had his back turned towards you, so his expression was something more you didn’t have access to.

“Nine sharp or I’m leaving without you.”

“Alright, alright…Thank you, Miguel.” you replied, and before he could regret it, you swung your way out of his office.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader

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lizzisimss · 1 year

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blimbosworlddd · 3 months

Text

Nirvana: A Rock Lee Fic (Chapter 4)

Summary: Your dating life is terrible. Your friends’ marriage is fantastic. Your career as a medic is doing great, though. But you aren’t happy. However, after one quick trip to the Mighty Rock Dojo, you stumble upon the most magnificent man you’ve ever met- the taijutsu master- Rock Lee.

Notes: slow burn fic, afab/fem/black reader.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, (light) descriptions of blood and violence, usage of the N word. The reader and Lee are in their 20s but virtually any age group that is 18 and up can enjoy this story. Again 18+, minors do not interact… pls.

Word count: 6.3k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Shikamaru loves his late father’s lighter. At the tender age of seventeen, he found it in one of his coat pockets in the closet after his funeral. It’s one of those old school classic lighters that you flick open, and is the only one he uses to smoke. A morning glory flower is engraved into the sleek silver, and it’s the same flower that Shikamaru orders in his wife’s bouquets. Sometimes he doesn’t even use his lighter for smoking. He’ll just stare at it or keep it in his fist, rubbing the smooth round edges to ground him when logic and practicality no longer pay for his taxing burdens.

Like how he’s doing now: balled up hand caging the lighter in his left pocket while the other uses gestures to emphasize on important phrases when explaining to a couple why buying this mini-mansion would be beneficial for their lives. The words he finesses them with make up for almost any preconceived concern that they may have with the property, his gravelly tone carrying the undeniable confidence necessary to sell it.

The three stroll through the hallways, and the couple takes in the interior that they imagine looking at for the rest of their lives. The wife is beaming, running her fingers across the lustrous wallpaper while also investing her attention on the little history lesson Shikamaru was teaching about the house. The husband nods along to the story wordlessly, grabbing his woman’s hand as they follow the real estate agent into the kitchen.

He’s not really feeling how loudly the wood creaks beneath his feet, or how the cabinets in the kitchen are wooden despite the variety of building materials that adorn this establishment. However, Shikamaru isn’t paid to do nothing. So he turns around, releases the lighter in his pocket and raises both his hands to stop the customers.

“The intramural design of this house is pretty old, I’ll admit. But one of our most trusted general contractors is already drafting the modern upgrade of the interior.”

The husband raises a brow. “Such as?”

“Glad you asked.” He walks by the marble counters and opens one of the cabinets. “Why have wooden cabinets when there are significantly more durable options? Our contractor can laminate a sheet of acrylic or stainless steel over the medium-density fiberboard.”

Shikamaru leans on the countertop. “It's your choice, of course, but acrylic is susceptible to scratches.”

The wife hums in thought, realizing she hadn’t noticed the material of the cabinets until now. She feels her man let go of her hand, the chill air hitting her moistened palm. He clears his throat.

“Okay, but-“

Shika’s cold, sharp eyes quietly welcome the man with his full attention.

“How much will the installment cost? And what can we do about these creaky wooden floors? Will that also add to the price?”

“Nope.” Shika doesn’t miss a beat, lightly pushing himself off the marble. “Since our contractor has been working on this project before you found it, you won’t be paying for any upgrades on their behalf. S’just how we do business.”

The wife’s eyes crinkle in relief, hooking her elbow with her husband’s so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder.

“Does this apply to ordering a security system?” The husband continues.

“Well… no. You’ll hafta pay for that since it’s not a part of-“

Shika’s phone vibrates in his back pocket like a war cry in a distant battle zone. It’s on silent mode for obvious reasons, but his intuition tells him it’s a call he shouldn’t ignore. And he never ignores his gut. So, he excuses himself for a millisecond only to check who could be calling.

It’s his own wife.

What does this woman want? He thinks. I’m about to sell this house in fifteen minutes anyway. She can wait.

He turns off his phone, facing the couple whispering lowly to each other with approving nods and content-laced grins.

“Sorry about that.” He sighs. “Where were we?”

>>Your call has been forwarded to an au-

Temari shuts off her phone, eyebrows pinching into a soft cringe as she glares at the black screen.

This is the third time her husband hasn’t answered her calls, what’s worse is that they’ve barely seen or even interacted with each other in the last couple weeks. He always excused it with ‘gotta sell another house” or “too tired, we’ll talk later” or toe curling sex like that’s enough justification to shut her up. But Temari shuts up when Temari wants to shut up, and Temari once again may hafta spend another day sleeping on their shared california king bed without Temari’s man.

The exhausted woman scoffs, tossing her device on the couch as she slouches to reach the TV remote. The screen illuminates with the press of a button, and the channel displays a reality show. Images of a bunch of older women are raising their drinks in a toast to celebrate whatever the fuck, and it made Temari think of you. It made her think of how good of a listener you are, how affirming and supportive you get when she struggles in any aspect. She thinks of the first day you both met at her engagement party. She initially couldn’t help the grueling self awareness that came with meeting her fiancée’s first ex, put you proved to be a truly honorable woman. She wants dignity like that surrounding her.

Y’all haven’t had a proper hang out since she and Shika took you to the dojo, maybe some girl time could give her a less jaded outlook on the situation. Of course things change, and you can’t socialize with friends as much as you used to. But you can try.

I’ll reach out later, she thinks.

💚

Today is Veteran’s Day, Lee is at a restaurant eating with Neji and his sensei, Might Guy. They’re celebrating Guy’s survival of the Fourth Great War, so it’s not surprising that he and Neji have downed a couple shots of whiskey. Lee, on the other hand, contently sips on his humble glass of cranberry juice from a squiggly straw.

“And so get this,” Neji chuckles, talking as if his face isn't beet red with liquor. “He puts slippers on her feet like she's Cinderella, and then she thanks him with the most unamused tone possible. She left with a face so lifeless you could mistake her for a mannequin.”

Guy Sensei cackles and slaps an open palm on the table. Lee pouts, shooting Neji the sassiest side-eye he can muster at that cheesy ass humor, but Neji just ignores him while slurping on some ramen. Lee hums, gently placing his glass cup down before folding his arms and leaning back against his chair.

“And yet she's the same woman who agreed to go on a date with me tomorrow.”

Guy Sensei drops his jaw with a gasp and Neji drops his chopsticks.

“And you're telling us this now?” Neji glares at him, but there's no real irritation in his tone. His eyes glow with pride for his friend.

Guy Sensei rests a hand on Lee’s shoulder, a serious expression adorning his face.

“I know I never really bothered teaching you how to love a woman.” His demanding voice carried subtle waves of regret and faith. “But despite all that you've been through, you taught yourself how to do it. That's how I know you've always had it in you. I'm proud of you, son.”

Lee turns to Neji who closes his eyes with a knowing smile, and feels his own lips wobbling into one as well.

“Th-thanks Guy Sensei. I think I hit the jackpot with this one!”

Guy leans his back into his wheelchair with a hand rubbing his chin.

“I’m glad,” he grumbles. “Tenten’s lost her choke hold on you, I see.”

Neji’s eyes rip open, his smile melting away. He snaps his head to Lee, who’s already frowning while his eyes go blank. Guy catches onto the shift in the aura, watching his student’s depressing reaction with subtle horror.

“I’m sorry Lee,” Guy sighs guiltily. “I thought you were over her.”

Lee slowly slouches over the table. No one’s mentioned my ex-fiance in years, he thinks. I thought I was over her too. He inhales deeply and ditched the straw to take a swig from his cranberry juice.

“Her memory still brings me pain,” he prompts reluctantly.

Neji side-eyes Guy before looking down at his now-cold ramen. He's losing his appetite, and it's not even about him, all because Sensei couldn't watch his mouth.

Images of your tear-stained face, your beautiful smile, and your relentless kindness fills the void in Lee’s chest with a warmth only you can provide. And he can't help but smile, more tenderly, this time.

“But not only have I gotten stronger, I have another chance with an amazing woman.” Lee turns to the window beside him and looks up at the blue sky, hope twinkling in his eyes.

“For the first time in a long time,” he shifts his gaze back to Guy. “I look forward to loving again.”

Neji and Guy silently marvel at his growth and maturity. It’s now Guy’s turn to make a wobbly smile, quietly sniffling as he reaches to hold Lee’s hand. He offers his hand to his other student as well, and Neji hesitantly accepts it with a hopeless sigh. But he grins once more, nonetheless.

💚

Today is the day you go out with Lee! You both decided he’d pick you up at your place at 7 pm, so you have the whole day to pamper yourself. You’re with your best friend Bria, both of you getting your nails done by her nail tech. Bria is another childhood friend of yours, y’all met in elementary school. She had to move to a neighboring state for college, but you both always keep in touch when you can.

You sigh happily against the massage chair, feeling the tension around your shoulder blades erode while watching the color on your nails blossom with each stroke of the tiny brush.

“Bri, this is the best,” you groan softly. “Thank you.”

“Girl don’t even stress it,” She rolls her eyes lovingly. “You know I missed you.”

You chuckle sweetly. “I missed you too.”

Bria always showed her affection by spoiling the people who have their own little place in her big heart. You understood why, you just didn’t feel comfortable having money spent on you. However, as years passed, Bria helped you realize that you rejected how she loved because you felt like a burden - like if she burned some cash for you it'd ultimately be a waste.

But ever since y’all met, you’ve supported her through all her trials and tribulations. You were her strength when she was weak, especially after she was homeless for a period after her abusive grandmother kicked her out of her house. You and your father took her in when no one else would, and helped her get back on her feet. You made her feel like a normal teen amidst all the chaos. And now, she owns her own house and two businesses.

To Bria, the very least she can do is prepare you for your highly anticipated date.

Your nails are finished and they’re so you: stiletto shaped with a French, purple chrome tip. Bria’s nails are long and SpongeBob themed which makes you giggle uncontrollably but at the same time they look dumb good. All this pretty art and not a single dent in your pockets - as it should be.

Next up is a shopping spree but, y’all only buy from one store. It’s an underground thrift boutique with tons of vintage brands, Bria knows you love your 20+ year old classics. God, it’s like a hidden museum riddled with ancient yet modernized pieces in here. You feel like you’re time traveling as you scan through so many garments; some premiered in 90s runways from Paco Rabanne to Mugler. Where the fuck did the store owner get these?? Your brain ponders in a fashion-crazed frenzy.

While remaining hyper vigilant, you make sure to find something that doesn’t stand out but still screams classy. Simple yet effective.

“Ayo Bri,” you call out in the air, unable to see your friend anywhere.

“Yeah, hun?” She responds from the other side of the boutique. While following her voice, you put your items in a cart and predict her location. You show her your selection. Her eyes and fingers silently run over every ridge, every crease, every edge. The dress’ cotton is smoothly refined, beautifully dyed and feels amazing. Your bestie nods affirmingly with a sharp grin.

“…You gon drive him crazy.”

“Like I don’t already.” You scoff.

Bria guffaws as you eagerly throw your arms around her shoulders, swaying you both side to side.

It’s 4pm, and y’all finally make it back to your apartment. Luckily, you have a few hours to settle in so you won’t hafta rush to get ready. Both of you sit on your couch while watching Bernie Mac. Bria pours two glasses of Pinot Noir while you take down your twists. You feel the cushion zap your energy from beneath you, but the idea of missing Lee’s inevitable call straightens your back and forces you awake.

“Pookieee, you never showed me a pic of your lover boyyy,” Bria whines before taking a sip of some wine. Her brow raises unexpectedly at its richness.

You cease your twist out and reach for your phone. You never caught a proper portrait of Lee’s face, but you would sneak a few pics of him sparring with multiple fighters at once. So you showed her that. She brings the screen closer to her face, and her eyes bulge out of her sockets.

“DAMN,” She barks. “Bruce Lee who?”

Your jaw drops, gently slapping her thigh at her boldness.

“Don’t disrespect Bruce’s legacy like tha-“

“I’M NOT! LOOK,” Bria scrunches her eyes and zooms in on his body. “You can see his muscles through the clothes. THROUGH THE CLOTHES!”

You feel yourself wheezing, a hand over your clenching abdomen to ease the burn of laughter. But you can’t disagree, Lee’s stunning like that.

“Bri… I can’t with you,” you huff with a weak smile.

“Sure ya can!” Bria chirps, framing her words with a fake southern accent. She stay playing.

It’s 6:45 pm and you’re all dolled up; hair done, makeup done, outfit on, perfume spritzed. Bria takes a bunch of pics, squealing in delight at how much you you’re eating up this look. She’s proud, so proud of the queen you’ve become.

“Bitch, ya lover boy lucky I’m straight.”

You smile goofily, about to respond to her joke until you feel your phone ringing in your hand.

You take it out and Lee’s contact brightens your screen. Bria slaps a palm over her mouth when you answer the call.

“H-Hello?”

Lee closes his eyes, reveling in how sweet and lovely you sound.

“Hi angel,” he purrs lowly. “I’m downstairs.”

You press your thighs together. That voice of his; a deep raspiness thrumming with a tone so sensual, it caresses every nerve in your body. To top it off with a pet name, and he arrives early?? Wheww.

“Okay. C-coming down.”

You hang up and turn to face your friend. She hugs your shoulders and wishes you the best night ever.

“You can spend the night here if you want, ‘kay?” You coo. Bria nods appreciatively against your neck.

“I’ll save some wine for you,” she whispers.

“No you won’t.” She snorts at how well you know her.

You take your keys, purse and blow Bria a kiss before locking the door behind you.

💚

Lee stands outside, leaning against the door of his car as he waits patiently for you. He tugs at his gray slacks, wondering if he should have entrusted his suit to Neji’s personal tailor. He snaps his head up when he hears your door unlock. Your black stiletto pumps clack as you descend down the steps like a goddess from her shrine. He couldn’t look away. He just physically couldn’t.

“Oh my god…” he mumbles, staring hopelessly at your figure; a royal purple sweater dress that reaches your mid-calf, fitting you like a glove as the soft fabric hugs every curve, crease and roll that adorns your body; smoky eyes and a glossy lip accentuate your soft glow; pretty round face framed with an afro- the radiant moonlight illuminating your fluffy coils; you watch your step while gracefully lifting the bottom of your black vintage mink coat that’s draped over your shoulders. He feels like falling to his knees at the sight of you.

After approaching him, you stop at arm’s length so you can take him in. Calling Lee sexy would be a disserving understatement; the grey suit he’s wearing clings to his body with tasteful minimalism; it’s not too baggy, nor is it too tight; the fabric’s at peak quality, smoothly pressed, but not too shiny; you could see the bulk of his thighs slightly stretch his pants (the hems are cropped to perfection); and the top four buttons on his black shirt are undone, so you can see his sternum and a delicious peak of those pecs adorned with a thin silver chain. This fit frames his build with such majestic subtlety, you couldn’t help but undress him with your eyes from head to polished boot.

“Lee! You… you look so handsome,” there’s that familiar lilt of humble adoration in your voice he loves oh so much. It boosts his ego, yet doesn’t soar it to great heights because he’s used to not getting many compliments on his appearance. The rosiness that blooms on his cheeks is evident enough of that.

“Thank you,” he smiles softly. “I know you’re always beautiful no matter what you wear. It- it’s just..”

He nibbles on his bottom lip without ceasing eye contact, the sight urges you to look down shyly but you’re too mesmerized by him to tear away your gaze.

“Seeing you tonight has confirmed to me that you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.”

Gravity wins the battle and you finally drop your head, feeling like you’ll melt into a puddle if he gives you any more sweet praises.

“Th-thank you, Lee. That means a lot.”

“Of course,” There’s a reassurance in his tone that boosts your ego as well, making you feel like his flattery isn’t just flattery. He makes it feel like a widely accepted fact amongst the masses of an entire nation. No man has ever made you feel that way, you couldn’t depend on them to do that. It took your whole life up until now to realize yourself that you are the shit, were always the shit, and forever will be the shit.

He turns to open the door for you, making sure the ends of your fur don’t graze the pavement as you step inside the vehicle.

The ride to the restaurant is quiet, words have yet to be exchanged between you two. Well, this kinda baffles Lee because he’s been on plenty of dates; but there’s something about your aura, the way you carry yourself with such poise from how you speak to how you sit; his face just won’t stop heating up, your presence isn’t helping that and he just doesn’t wanna say something foolish.

You on the other hand are just chilling; basking in the woody scent of his car that mixes with the expensive cologne radiating from Lee in small, balanced wafts. He smells like cinnamon, a sweet and warm aroma trailing a sharp spiciness. You sense his hesitation, but you don’t know what to say either. And date or not, you refuse to force small talk. It makes you feel icky, so you silently enjoy his presence.

You’re both halfway to your destination and Lee decides to restart his brain a little. He turns on the radio, making sure the music is only loud enough for both of you to listen casually. Barbra Streisand’s The Way We Were plays in the background. I loved this song as a teen, you think. Gosh was I a hopeless romantic… still am. You ponder if that was ever a bad thing, if you were just scared that you either love passionately, or don’t at all.

You ponder if that even matters right now.

Lee hums every note Barbra sings with attentive effort, his finger tapping against the wheel to match the feather-light rhythm of the percussion.

“Smiles we gave to one another,” you turn your head to him, not expecting his singing to enchant you the way it does. “For the way we were…”

He sounds so invested in the moment, simply appreciating the song by singing along. Your heart skips a beat when he shifts his heavy gaze to you, a silly smile raising his cheeks before returning his focus on the road ahead. It makes you a little jealous, the way he so easily erased the growing tension between you two.

You want to do that. You want to do that for yourself, for the people around you, for your patients. Maybe you already do, but you don’t think anyone can do it quite like Lee does.

“SO IT’S THE LAUGHTER, WE WILL REMEMBER. WHENEVER WE REMEMBER..” your mouths hang low as you both shout the sentimental lyrics at the top of your lungs. Your bodies sway to the music with fervent enthusiasm like you’re in a soap opera, like it’s the last song you both will ever sing. You feel so free. You both don’t mind how crazy y’all might sound belting notes slightly beyond your registers, for your hearts called out to Streisand’s magnificent delivery of an undeniably nostalgic message. You both feel so free.

“The way we were. The way we… were.” The song concludes with the introductory hums from earlier, and you feel yourself sink back into your seat.

“Damn!” You exclaim. “You got some pipes, Lee.”

Hearty laughter erupts from Lee’s chest. “I can say the same for you, y/n.”

You finally make it to the restaurant and the exterior design is so sleek and well illuminated. Lee walks ahead to open the door for you, and you thank him before entering the establishment. You’d expect the interior to have a modern style like the other restaurants you’ve dined at. To your delightful surprise it’s very old-school. The lights are dimmed to increase the intimacy but not to the point where it’s hard to see. Shika and Temari would love this place, you think.

A waiter approaches the two of you.

“Good evening, my name is Jeremy,” he prompts. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes,” Lee verifies. “Under the name Rock Lee.”

“Right this way.” Jeremy smiles politely and leads you both to a booth in a secluded corner.

The round table is draped in a black cloth, decorated with silver utensils, two Riesling wine glasses and burgundy twin candles. Even the seats are adorned in velvet fabric. Is this how royalty dines everyday?

Before stopping yourself, you tug on the hem of Lee’s sleeve. He looks down at you and the concern in his expression almost makes your incoming words clog up your throat. It’s too all too much. He’s just too much.

“Lee… you didn’t hafta do all this.” You protest weakly.

Lee blinks at you, big eyes widening as he processes your remark.

“ ‘Course I did princess,” he says matter-of-factly. “You deserve it. Now, let’s eat!”

He waits for you to release your hold. And you do, feeling your cheeks puff up in a small grin. He pulls back a chair, offering you your seat. You thank him as he steadily pushes your chair forward so you’re close enough to the table. He sits across from you while you shrug off your coat.

After taking off his own jacket, he rolls up his sleeves and his forearms look heavenly; the way his veins protrude while his muscles flex make you imagine how they’d feel wrapped around your neck from behind as he p-

“Here are your menus,” Jeremy gives you each a fancy pamphlet listing all the available dishes and beverages. You both make sure to receive them with verbal gratitude and scan your options.

You want to pull out your phone so you can look up these Italian words, but you don’t want to violate the etiquette so you read the ingredients of each meal from the menu instead. Your eyes follow Lee’s confused ones, and hide a snort with your pamphlet when he asks the waiter what a certain meal is and completely butchers the pronunciation of the dish’s name.

After requesting your appetizers, you both wait patiently with a glass of wine in your hand and a glass of orange juice in Lee’s.

You raise your glass to the crease of your mouth, but something about Lee sitting prim and content with his orange juice peaks an interest within that urges you to indulge it.

“Not a fan of drinking?”

Lee lowers his glass at your question, swallowing a glob of spit to brace himself. Yes, he’s not obligated to answer that question and could just manage a way to politely change the subject. Or, he could tell the truth no matter how mercilessly his shame is clawing at his back. However, the sincerity behind the bleakness of his past sprouts in the form of a calm smile embellishing his features.

“I was an alcoholic,” Lee makes sure he’s loud enough so you can’t misconstrue the truth in his words. “Been sober for five years… going on six.”

Lee stares at you and waits. He waits for your reaction, your character, the potential volume of your heart. He sits and stares, looking for any judgment in your eyes. He knows how mature and grounded you are, Neji and Guy Sensei have helped him see those traits in admirable people. But you’re going to have to accept all of him if he’s going to give you all of him.

You turn your head, scanning the area for the nearest waiter. Luckily there’s one who’s an earshot away from you. To Lee’s confusion, you summon them for assistance.

“Hi, how can I help you?” Inquires the waiter.

“May I have a glass of orange juice, please? I’d like to return the wine.”

Lee’s eyes widen, wondering why his lungs no longer feel like they’re being buried by dumbbells. But rather, they feel like an inflated balloon, like a sky lantern floating gracefully into the atmosphere until they look like one of the infinite stars so impossibly far away. Except, you’re right in front of him.

“Yes, of course.” The waiter grabs the glass and bottle of Riesling, retreating to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” you mumble, mindlessly watching them walk away.

A heavy sigh pulls you from your trance. You turn your attention to the man before you, his chin resting on his palm while dreamily gazing at you.

“Why did you do that?” He blinks slowly, and the attempted nonchalance of his grin failed to mask his bewilderedness.

“Because I'm proud of you! Five years is no easy milestone.”

Lee leans back against his seat, carefully drinking in the subtle meekness in your eyes. Yes, you were a bit nervous, twiddling with your nails while wondering if the gesture you just pulled was really necessary.

“No one’s ever done something like that for me before. Thank you, angel.”

Lee raises his chin and looks up to the decorated ceiling with closed eyes, reveling in this moment you’re blessing him with.

“Of course…!” You lean a tad bit forward, folding your hands on the dining table. “ You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. In body and spirit.”

A hearty chuckle slips through Lee’s lips, and the sound rumbles through your brain.

The waiter comes back with the orange juice and pours you a new drink. You thank them as they leave and raise your glass towards the man before you.

“To five years?” You prompt with a shy smile stretching your thick lips.

Lee straightens his posture, and reaches for his drink. He ascends the glass and clinks it gently against yours, the look on his face so relaxed and at peace. A quiet sombreness radiates from the satisfaction of this precious moment because of the unbearable days he had to bear just to experience it. And yet, that resentful trail of suffering leads him to share an intimacy with someone he never ever thought he’d encounter. You are invaluable, and he’s gonna make sure you enjoy every second you spend with him.

“To five years.”

The ride back to your place is a bit noisier, y’all don’t sing this time but rather continue the intellectually fruitful and deeply polarizing conversations you shared back at the restaurant. So much depth:

“Fave powerpuff girl?”

Lee takes a shallow breath at your question, pondering on how to answer most honestly.

“Y’know, quite a few people thought I liked Buttercup because we both have short black hair and our color is green but…” Lee kisses his teeth in thought while steadily swerving onto the next block..

“Bubble’s innocent naivety and relentless bliss always resonated with me,” he shrugs while looking ahead. “I wanted to be the ‘happiest citizen of Townsville’ for the sixth year in a row when I was a toddler.”

You snort, resting your elbow below the passenger window. “You know, she gets extremely aggressive when she’s mad though.”

“Another reason why I love her! She’s so underestimated as a fighter but is the most feared by Mojo Jojo himself.”

You loll your head in Lee’s direction. “Jojo is not a very impressive villain. I mean, you didn’t forget about HIM, did you?”

Lee catches a glimpse of how your pretty eyes slant a bit when you playfully smirk at him, an image he screenshots with his brain.

“Who can forget the most manipulative, morally inept character in that show? S’why he’s so interesting!”

“His fashion sense is interesting too,” you remark while recalling the character’s iconic design. “Wanted to dress up as him for Halloween back in kindergarten.”

Lee bellows at the thought of a tiny version of you embellished in red crab hands and a pointy chin beard. Shameless laughter has never sounded sexy to you. But after seeing his cheeks rise and eyes crinkle shut in helpless glee; after seeing the way his sharp jaw falls open to let that deep bass rumble through the car. You want to make him do it again. You want to feel him do it again, want to drink him in.

“You’d look so adorable,” he wheezes while resting his forehead against the wheel.

You try to ignore the effect he has on you. You try to ignore how contagious he is, but a few sniggers escape your lips in merry futility.

“Thank you…” you turn to look through your passenger window, taking in the streets and architecture that look more and more similar to your home as Lee continues driving by.

“Your Bubbles cosplay would be quite convincing if I do say so myself.” You add.

“Don't tempt me, princess.” Lee continues to look ahead, but you can see a sneer creep up his handsome features in a way that makes you cackle unabashedly.

💚

“This is you, right?”

“Yep!”

Your date pulls up right in front of your apartment, and you reflect on your time with him while he unplugs the key from his car. You had so much fun; didn’t feel stressed in any way, you ate good, you learned so much more about Lee than you ever expected to; and secretly hope he wants to know more about you.

Lee steps out of the car and opens your side of the door. He offers his hand for you to balance yourself as you step onto the jagged pavement. While nodding your head in gratitude, you feel your pores prick open at the rough texture of his palm. His fingers are solid and scarred, yet so soothingly warm.

Before you take out your keys to unlock the gate, you turn to face the man’s chest before you. You look up to find those big eyes, and his gaze consumes you; he tucks his hands in his pockets, sighing as he stares lovingly at you; lidded eyes with a lazy smile, you got him on cloud nine. It gives you the urge to cower, but you don’t want to. The way he is looking at you right now, with such an undeniable bliss, urges you to face the fear. To judge yourself a little less. It’s quiet for a few moments, the both of you kinda just stare at each other but it’s comfortable. Not awkward, just the both of you. No one else.

“I don’t want this night to end.” You pout, a little whine erupting in your throat.

Lee chuckles lowly and tilts his head at the adorable sight, quietly grateful that you show this side of yourself to him. He’s so in love with you, he can’t take it. He loves how desired you make him feel.

“It doesn’t have to,” his tender tone sugarcoats the fearless conviction in his words.

You briefly shut your eyes in a frown and take a deep breath. “Yes…” you sigh. “Yes it does.”

Lee’s own smile doesn’t even falter, he’s simply grateful that you blessed him with your precious time and presence.

“Well,” he sighs. “I had a wonderful time with you. You’re wonderful, y’know that?”

Your eyes drop to your heels so you can hide your silly little grin, the bass in his voice rasping you away into the air yet grounding you simultaneously. Lee takes a step closer, and he can smell the vanilla and honey wafting from your shiny coils. The warmth and cologne radiating from his body starts to insulate your own. His throat bobs with every subtle gulp, and you feel like taking a step back because it’s so much but not even close to enough.

A tiny gasp escapes your lips when Lee gently cups your chin with his hand, slowly tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. He tightens his grip on your cheeks, just enough to watch your lips cutely pucker up.

“You know that, right y/n?”

Oh. So it’s like that.

Didn’t take him for a fucking tease, you think.

“Right,” you whisper dumbly.

”But if I’m so wonderful…” you gulp. “Then why don’t you kiss me already?”

Lee’s smirk widens. There you go princess, he thinks. Demand what’s yours.

The man before you swipes a careful thumb over your bottom lip before dragging his remaining fingertips across your smooth cheek. He grips the back of your neck, and pulls you in.

Your hands instinctively find their place on his chest to brace yourself.

His mouth hovers just a stray hair from yours, and you can feel his minty breath set your goosebumps aflame. He languidly latches his lips onto your plush ones, groaning at how pillowy they are. Lee shamelessly expressing how good you make him feel makes you squirm slightly in his embrace. He slowly snakes his other arm around the small of your back, tugging you closer until your torsos press. He massages your waist to your upper back while kissing you, so suave with how he appreciates as much of your body as he can. The print of his abs poke your soft tummy through his shirt and you melt against him, letting your shaky hands run up his chest until they grasp onto the junction between his neck and shoulders. Lee angles his head to deepen the kiss, your breathing gets heavier and you start panting at how overwhelming he is.

He loosens his jaw to lick a teasing stripe up the corner of your lips, silently requesting more access which goes straight to your poor clit. Your hot tongues mold together, muffling the cute whimpers that escape your mouth and Lee moans while swallowing every delectable sound. He’s filthy... you love it so much.

You haven’t been kissed like this in at least two years, don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore. You feel like this man’s delving into your soul, peeling you layer by layer with just his mouth. You can only imagine a pleasure that the rest of his body could drown you in.

You start feeling antsy, like if you don’t stop now Lee will take you to a corner store for some plan b. You scream inwardly, knowing you’ll be fucking your toy until its battery dies instead when you go upstairs. So you gently shove him away, causing your spit-slicked lips to separate with a lewd ‘pop’. Lee releases your waist, watching you inhale deeply as you awkwardly button his suit jacket.

“See you at the dojo. And get home safely,” you whisper with a tight smile, patting his chest conclusively before walking to your gate. The jingling of your keys snaps Lee out of his trance, a meek little “I will” tumbling from his lips before he retreats back into his vehicle.

Lee runs a tired hand through his black strands, lazily holding some hair in his fist while replaying his new three months worth of fap material. God you’re so divine to him; your lips are divine, the way your eyebrows scrunched together when he practically tongue fucked your mouth was divine, how your tits pressed against him when he held you was divine, your needy voice was divine. And the way Lee looks down to see a tent in his pants- beads of precum seeping through the fabric- harbors peak divinity.

💚

You open your apartment door, catching Bria snuggling with your Kuromi plushie in a blissful slumber. After closing the door behind you, you kick off your heels and pad your way to your bedroom. You decide to sleep naked tonight, chilling under your comforter while scrolling through Instagram.

Your phone vibrates and Temari’s caller ID pops up on your screen.

I haven’t heard from her in a while, you wonder. How’s she been doing?

You answer.

This work belongs solely to ©️ blimbosworlddd. Do not plagiarize, steal, copy or repost. I worked very hard on this; reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated.

#Naruto #rock lee #black reader #black fem reader #rock lee x black reader #the moment we’ve all been waiting for😌

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ladylooch · 1 year

Text

Loving & Leaving- Part 2

Visit the series page here.

A/N: We are going to get CHAOTIC with this one. So buckle up. 😈

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, Swearing, angsty

Word Count: 4k

The Swiss Hockey Federation awards are in the late summer. And every year, Nico begs me at the last minute to come with him. With his good looks and professional hockey career, you would think he would be able to find a true date to go with. But every year, it’s me on his arm. We skip the red carpet, as per usual, and slide into the sleek, modern event space relatively undetected. The room is stunning, decked out in the reds and whites of our national colors. The Swiss flag flies proudly around the room while various projectors showcase the latest and greatest hockey talent Switzerland has to offer.

As an event planner myself, I am quite impressed. This is an detailed, high-end event with waiters trolling the floor carrying small bites and free flutes of champagne. The full, open bar has anything you could want including expensive liquors from all over the world. The bright chandeliers twinkle in the low lighting, complimenting the live jazz music that fills the room. An air of sophistication wafts through and loud laughter rings in my ears as Nico hands me a glass of champagne.

“Thank you.” I say, bringing it to my lips as I scan the room again.

“Expecting someone?” Nico asks, watching my face.

“No.” I lie. “Admiring the details.”

“I’m going to go walk the room. You good?”

“Yeah. Take your time.” I tell him.

Anticipation buzzes in my blood, eye sweeping, looking for a certain Devil who isn’t my brother. I haven’t seen Timo since March. He’s reached out but I’ve put him off, absorbed in work and my friend group. I know he returned to Switzerland weeks ago, but he’s been in and out of the country with his family, spending precious moments with them that he doesn’t get during the season. But that doesn’t mean he’s been far from my thoughts.

I don’t see Timo, but I know he will be here. Every year for the past three years, Timo has been here. I’ve been here. The night always ends the same: frantic lips, desperate hands, and silent screams of pleasure in a nearby closet.

The one just to the left of the women’s bathroom looks like the winner this year.

The moment he arrives, my body knows. My brown eyes wander to him, drinking him in like a parched camel. He’s dressed in a Navy suit and works on buttoning his jacket again after the red carpet. He has dark, sexy stubble lining his jaw and upper lip. I want to know what that feels like between my thighs. I push out a controlled breath, feeling my core tremble as he rubs a hand along his cheek, then inspects the room. I watch him find my brother. He sees Nico alone and furrows his brow, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth. He heads right to him, extending a hand and shaking it with his easy smile. He looks good tonight. Everything about him pulls me in. I’m yearning to feel his skin, tanned from his trip to Italy, beneath my finger prints.

Nico and Timo talk for a few minutes while I watch. Timo lets out a loud laugh, head tilting back towards the ceiling. It flows through the air to me, lodging in my chest, soothing some of the missing him. Nico gestures to his left, then turns, looking right at me. I freeze as Timo’s gaze finds me. Excitement fills his face. He gives me a smile followed by a brief, friendly wave that has butterflies growing in my abdomen. When Nico turns away, Timo tosses me a wink. It’s brief. Anyone else would have missed it, but it’s been the agreement I’ve been waiting for.

Tonight, we’ll play another round of desperate roulette. Winner picks the tempo.

As the night drags on, I visit with various players, running around with my brother until I bore of the same conversation over and over again. Yes- Jersey is great. Yes, the team is getting better. Yes, its so funny how it’s become Switzerland of the West. Ha, ha, ha. Bleh. I don’t know how Nico does it. But, he’s always been sweet, charming, and attentive. It’s what makes him a great captain.

The one person we don’t go see is Timo. It’s all part of our game. When Nico and I get close, he moves along to the other side of the room. There, his gaze drags along my skin, spreading wildfire through me and an ache that I’m getting desperate for him to cure.

I’m on my third glass of champagne when I perch myself perfectly in Timo’s view. Lust fills my cheeks and lips as he strokes the glass of his drink, rubbing at the condensation while chatting with Kevin Fiala. If I close my eyes, I can imagine that same thumb rubbing against my throbbing clit. My teeth tease my lip wondering how much longer it’s going to take for him to make his move. Nico is drawing closer and closer to me again. The night is seemingly winding down after speeches and awards. I worry our time is running out.

Kevin disappears with his wife from the bar, but Timo remains. He glances over his shoulder in my direction, a small smirk tilting his lips at seeing me staring at him.

Here we go.

He pushes up, turning my way when a petite blonde with bursting cleavage intercepts him. My eyes narrow slightly. She’s ruining my night. I look towards my bother who is in conversation just to the left of me now. Shit. I contemplate how to get him further away while watching Timo from across the room. The blonde is closer now, absorbed, watching his mouth. Her fingers brush the jacket of his suit. I suddenly feel hot, but not in a good way.

It’s a different twist in my core now. Shades of green and ugly- about to rear into something I haven’t felt this intensely before.

The woman tosses her hair like she’s in a shampoo commercial, giggling at him. I jut my jaw out in irritation. She is so fake. And plastic. I bet she’s stuffed with fillers to hide from her insecurities. So unattractive. Yet… he’s looking at her like he’s interested? Is this what he picks when I’m not around? Yuck.

She calls out to the bartender who tosses her a white napkin on the bar top. She takes out her lipstick from her purse, red and deep just how I know he likes it. It’s almost the exact shade I picked tonight, just for him. She sketches what must be her number onto the napkin. Then, she places it in his hand, letting her fingers linger, taking stock of his curiosity. I stiffen, watching as she places her red lips against his cheek, then slide to his ear to whisper parting words.

My cheeks sting like he slapped me when he stuffs the napkin into his pocket. He knows I’m here, watching, and he did that? He could have tossed it on the bar. He could have let it accidentally drift to the floor from his hand. He could have not taken it at all. He should have don’t that. Instead, he’s saving it for later. My fingers almost smash the flute in my hand when I see his eyes soaking in her ass as she walks away.

And in that moment, I am decidedly done with this night.

“Can we go?” I interrupt my brother’s conversation next to me. “My feet hurt.” I point down to the black Jimmy Choos he bought for me last Christmas.

“I told you not to wear those.” He rolls his eyes. Truthfully, he doesn’t seem too disappointed at the prospect of leaving.

“You’re right as per usual.” I shrug, pacifying him so we will leave.

“I’m going to go say goodbye to Josi. I didn’t get to him earlier.” Nico hands me the valet ticket. “Have them grab the car.”

I stalk from the room before Timo can get to me. If he’s coming, I don’t know. I stopped looking when his eyeballs were glued to a sequined ass that wasn’t mine.

I’m standing at the valet podium when the man in question extends his vehicle ticket to the remaining valet. The employee walks off towards the parking lot, leaving us alone.

“Hi.” His voice is warm rolling over the bare skin of my shoulders to blanket me. One word and he makes me want to bury my face in the side of his neck.

“Hi.”

“Do I get to see you tonight?” He asks

Some fucking audacity. My eyes squint as I stare forward.

“No. But I’m sure the girl who’s number is on that napkin in your pocket is available.”

“Oooo.” He chuckles. “Careful, Em, you sound a little jealous.” I turn my icy stare on him. No words pass between us because we both know I am. “Ask nicely and I’ll come over.”

“I’m not begging for shit.” I snap back. He observes my anger, softening with his approach.

“You really don’t have to. I’m more than willing. You look so beautiful tonight.” He reaches his hand out to slide along the small of my back. His touch caresses like it belongs there. I close my eyes, jaw tightening as I resist the pull I feel to give in. “All I wanted was to be across the room with you. Be that glass you held all night.”

“Fooled me.” I snip. Damn him and his compliments.

“We were just talking.” Timo says. I turn to face him, demeanor still cold. “I’m out here with you, no?” My eyes drag along his suit jacket, stopping at the button holding it together. “I’m trying to end the night tasting the sweetest parts of you.” He reaches up, fingering the diamond stud in my ear that was a gift from him.

“I’m really not in the mood.” My teeth are tight from the tension. Timo’s fingers pause on my lobe until he slowly drops his hand back to his side.

“Why are you mad at me when I’m the one who hasn’t heard from you in months? I texted you earlier this week asking if you were going to be here and you ignored me.” His thick eyebrows pull together in annoyance. “I didn’t even know you were here until your brother told me.”

“It’s not your business where I am in the world.”

“It’s not?”

“No, you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Not by my choice.” My nostrils flare at his pointed tone.

“If I need to get crystal clear with you, I will. We’re never going to be together.”

“Yeah, because you’re fucking scared.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at me.

“No. I’m not giving up my entire life for you so that you can have all your dreams come true while I’m just your trophy wife. Staying silent and pretty is not the life for me.” I whirl my hands about. “Plus, your behavior tonight just shows how incapable you are of loving me the way I deserve. You want options and I’m not going to share you.” Even to my own ears, I sound scared and unsure of what I’m saying. Like its a bunch of rapid fire excuses to deflect from how badly I want him right now.

“Behavior? I didn’t do anything wrong.” He spits out. “You just told me I’m not your boyfriend, so why does it matter who’s number I take?” He holds his hands out to the sides exasperated. “And I never asked you to give anything up for me. You’re making this all or nothing because you’re too damn chicken to try. I told you in Jersey that I want this. You were the one who ghosted me for months.” His chest is rising and falling rapidly. “That fucking hurts, Em.”

Tears fill my eyes as I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. I peel my gaze away from him, trying to regain my composure. Footsteps fall heavily behind us belonging to my brother.

“You’re leaving too?” Nico asks Timo as he comes between us. Nico snuck up on us, but a quick glance at his lax posture makes me believe he has no idea about us.

“Uh..” Timo clears his throat, stepping back, balling his hands into fists in frustration. “Yeah, early training tomorrow.”

“Bummer. Was going to say you should come over for a drink.” I hold my breath in anticipation of Timo’s answer.

“Nah, I shouldn’t.” He says as the valet comes forward with Nico’s car. Disappointment rattles in my stomach. Even as I want the distance, telling myself I don’t need this, I crave him.

“Next time.” Nico extends his hand for Timo to shake. I begin to walk forward without acknowledging Timo.

“It was great seeing you, Emma.” I toss a look at him over my shoulder. I can see the hurt in his blue eyes. I know I should say something to keep the act up, but I can’t. Instead, I slide into the passenger seat without another word.

Nico allows the silence for a few minutes on our drive home.

“You seem upset.”

“I’m just tired.” I toss a small, appeasing smile to him. His eyes don’t leave the road, but he sighs like he doesn’t believe me.

- - -

I’m outside.

Timo’s text comes through just as I settle against my pillows to sleep. I’m utterly exhausted after such a whirlwind night. I decide to ignore him, tossing my phone onto the other pillow and turning the lamp off. Light from my screen fills my room a minute later.

Come out here or I’m coming in.

Well. Can’t have that.

I toss my covers off begrudgingly, moving as quietly as I can down to the front door. I carefully tip toe out of the house, looking down the driveway to where Timo’s car purrs in the street, somewhat hidden by the trees and bushes. As I walk further down, I can see Timo outside the car, leaning against the driver’s side tire.

“Get in the car, Em.” He says as I approach. He takes in my matching pajama set of red shorts and an old, navy t-shirt.

“No.”

“Yes.” His jaw visibly tightens at my defiance.

“Or what?”

My body shakes from the chill of the mountain air. I underestimated how cool it was without the summer sun.

“Or, I’m going to drag you back inside and fuck you so hard we wake up your brother.” Whoa, this is new.

“Shh.” I hiss, stepping forward. I glare at him as I walk around the car and put myself into the back seat. He gives me a tired look. “You didn’t say where to sit.”

“You’re being such a brat.” He rubs angrily at his forehead, mumbling under his breath as he slams his door shut. He begins to drive, weaving with the road towards a hidden park down the street from home. He tosses the car in park, then comes into the back seat with me. I stare straight ahead. “You don’t get to act like this.”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

“You’re playing games with me. You’re all jealous because I took some girl’s number, then telling me we’re never going to be together? Which one is it? It doesn’t get to be both.”

“Fine. Fuck whoever you want then.” I snap. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” He snarls, grabbing my face with his hand. “It would be fine if I was balls deep in someone else tonight?” I wince from his words and he softens his grip instantly. “I’m sorry. I’m.. so sorry. I need you to… stop doing this to me. You’re driving me crazy, baby.” My eyes close when he murmurs the pet name. I get weak when he calls me that. “Acting like you don’t care and then getting all hot and jealous. Throwing tantrums and glaring at me before your eyes go dark, silently begging me to take you right in front of your brother.” He strokes his thumb along my cheek. I wrap my hand around his neck.

“Fuck me.” I tell him this time. “Right here. Please.” The rapid change between us is fitting and he takes it in stride.

“Thought you weren’t going to beg.” He reminds me, placing kisses along my throat, working down towards my chest.

“I don’t care. I just need you.” I confess as his fingers slide up my t-shirt, skirting along the soft skin of my abdomen. “So bad.” I whimper as he sucks against my collar bone.

“I don’t have anything.” He tells me, kissing sloppily over towards my ear. He pulls me into his lap after his confession. I contemplate, knowing we both know I’m on the pill. It’s a risk- I know it is. I hesitate, pulling back to look at his face. He pauses his movements, getting soft and serious as he holds my neck. “I’m clean. I’d never do anything that would hurt you.”

I believe him. Because he looks at me like he’s in love with me and it matches the yearning in my chest for him too. He could be anywhere else right now. Instead, he chose me.

“I trust you.” I whisper. “I’m good.”

“No one since me?” He asks the thing we always ask even though it hurts. I shake my head no. “Me either.” I smile against his lips on mine.

The feeling of our bare skins connecting has electric groans coming from our lips.

“You feel so good. So fucking wet.” He moans, putting his forehead between my breasts. “I’m not going to last. Can’t.” He moans again, louder this time as I rock on him.

“Good.” I whine as he strokes my clit. He watches my face as I bounce on him, thick eyebrows pulling down in pleasure as I ride. I’m not surprised at how quickly the tension begins to leak from us.

“Baby, where should I cum?” He groans after what feels like seconds.

“Right where you are.” I plea, working my hips into him faster. I grind harder against his hand, moaning loudly when his lips work my nipple over with the right strokes. “T-T- Ah.” I sob as I come, clenching him tightly in hard pulses until he shoots ribbons inside of me. The feeling of him in my heat, leaking, has my heart constricting in my chest. It’s so intimate it aches.

“Mmm.” He moans against my breast. His hot breath dances against my wet nipple, making me tremble more in his arms. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging the strands so his head falls back into my palm. I place my mouth, wet and hungry, over his, sucking his tongue into mine. I rotate my hips, feeling him ooze more into me. “You are… incredible.” He whispers when we pull apart to gasp in air.

Our soft smooches fill the car, coming down gradually from our hasty high, savoring the taste and feel of each other.

“You deserve better than this.” He eventually speaks against my shoulder. “You should be in my bed, 800 thread count sheets hugging your beautiful curves. Or a luxury apartment building where you can look at New York City while I fuck you from behind. Not this.” He gestures to the back seat of his car, where our heads are awkwardly avoiding the roof. I turn to bury my nose into his shoulder again.

“I can’t leave my life here.” I whisper against his hot skin.

“What is here that I can’t give you? Events are everywhere.”

“I have a client base that can’t be recreated anywhere.”

“I have connections. So does your brother. We can build you something new in America. Maybe even better?” Irritation pops my bubble. Why is he pressing this again?

“You can’t just create something new that fits with what you want and think that’s payment for leaving my life behind. My answer is still the same.” I say, pushing off of him. His softening dick flops out of me quickly. I grimace at the feeling of his cum sliding out.

“Why are you arguing against everything I’m trying to do to make this work?” He asks me, holding his hands out to the side in question.

I can’t really put words together to answer him. It’s just a dreaded feeling in my soul of following someone else, somewhere else, and getting lost in their world. Never mind that I’m in love with him. I feel my body jolt at the new, inner thought and pull myself farther away from him. It’s terrifying to love someone like him. Someone that proved tonight he could have his pick of anyone else. The temptation is so much. I know enough from Nico to not want to sign up for this.

“Don’t do this.” He mutters. “Just.. sit here for a second. I want to talk.”

My afterglow has been shattered by his questions. I stretch my neck to the side, wincing at the way it tightens back up immediately under the weight of my head. He reaches out to kneed at my tense muscles, thumbs putting firm pressure where it’s needed most.

“We already talked about this earlier tonight. Why can’t you just let this be enough?” I gesture between our bodies.

“I thought you were only saying that because you were mad…” He questions.

“No. I meant it.”

“You’re not even willing to try?”

“It seems pointless.” I shrug. Unwillingly, my mind cuts out pictures of that life. City dates in New York, wearing his last name on a WAG jacket, and waking up next to him in the morning, not needing to run away. Maybe a ring.. eventually a baby or two. There’s that ache in my chest again.

Timo is silent next to me. Carefully, fingers dragging along every inch of me, he begins to pull away. First his fingers fall from around my neck. Then, he slowly moves his other hand from my bare thigh. He works himself back into his pants as I wiggle my shorts into place. The only noise between us is his belt hooking back into place.

Until…

“Emma, I can’t.” He pauses. “I can’t do this anymore.” It’s quiet and questioning, like he doesn’t want to say or mean it.

“Okay.” I pick at my thumb nail. I’ve heard this before. It never lasts.

“No, I’m serious. I love you.” The blood slows in my veins. He’s never said those words to me before and I wish it wasn’t this way. “And I can’t have only parts of you anymore. It’s not enough.” Something about his voice makes my heart drop into my stomach. Panic forces my blood to begin racing through my veins again.

He pops the back door open. Hair stands up straight on the back of my neck, jolting when the door shuts again. My body trembles as he gets into the driver’s seat. The car roars to life. I adjust my shirt back into place and tuck my hair behind my ears as he drives. I purse my lips together, looking at him in the rearview mirror. He won’t return my gaze but his flickering jaw tells me he knows I’m looking.

The house comes into view. Timo throws the car in park at the end of the driveway. The interior of the car smells like sex. I can feel my raw folds coated with his sticky seed, still remembering his thrusts. Tears poke my eyes when he refuses to meet my gaze. I have no choice but to get out of the car. Isn’t this what I want anyway? I can’t ignore the way my heart cracks when I pop the door to step out.

I turn back, expecting him to get out of the car with me. To say something else. He doesn’t. And he doesn’t wait for me to get to the house.

Instead, he drives off into the night, red tail lights blazing until they disappear into darkness.

I won’t see him again until November, under much different circumstances.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Timo Meier #Timo Meier Smut #hockey writing #New Jersey Devils #NHL fan fiction

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godsmenusuperbowl · 9 months

Text

I Pimp You ~ *Bang Chan*

Summary: With all the money in the world, it was hard for you to find someone who loved you for you. However, after meeting Chan, you think you’ve finally found the one. However, will he still stay with you after he realizes just how much money you have?

Pairing: Bang Chan X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1270

Warning: The title is a bad representation of this story. It’s really cute and lovely.

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter @mxnsxngie @maeleelee @kpop-will-kill-me

A/N: Based off the Alice Francis song I Pimp You

You gave a nervous smile as you pressed your back firmly against the doors behind you to your apartment, your hands on the handles. “You promise not to freak out?”

Chan shook his head, giving you a bright smile to try and ease your frazzled nerves. “Of course I won’t. I told you that you didn’t have to be ashamed of anything with me. It’s going to be okay.”

“Just keep that thought in mind, okay?” You weren’t trying to scare him off, it’s just hard to tell someone you really love that you’re one of the richest heiresses in the world. Nevertheless, he promised you that he loved you more than anything, which gave you some scrap of confidence to show him the penthouse that your parents gave you on your twentieth birthday.

Just like ripping off a band-aid, you pushed open the doors behind you and the lights in your penthouse raised to display the sleek, modern, chic interior design your mother insisted upon for your place. You gauged his reaction carefully, hoping you weren’t overwhelming or scaring him too much. It’s a lot to take in, just how much money you had access to. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, making your stomach churn.

“Wow.” He breathed.

“I know, I know, it’s too much.” You sighed to yourself, mentally cursing your parents for going overboard as they always did. “Frankly, when I said I wanted my own place, I was thinking more of a small two bedroom apartment. But my parents like extravagance and excess and insisted on a whole floor dedicated to me in one of their many apartment complexes and they don’t like being told no.”

Chan slowly entered the penthouse, careful not to touch anything, as if he was afraid he might break something. You winced internally at his cautious behavior, afraid that your worst thoughts were coming true. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of this, yet he looked so nervous, which in turn made you nervous. “Yeah, I guess.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you asked, “Are you okay?”

He hesitated before giving a small nod. “Sorry, it’s just, it’s a lot to take in.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, Chan gently took your hands in his and gave you that smile that you loved the most, making a small smile appear on your face. Pressing soft kisses to your knuckles, he spoke, “Hey, don’t be sorry for the family you were born into. Besides, it’s just like I said before, it’s all going to be okay. You don’t have to be ashamed for having all this money. I fell in love with who you are as a person, not your money.”

Your smile only grew at his words and you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I gave you the grand tour, would you?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” He nodded grinning widely.

Taking his hand, you started to drag him all around the penthouse, showing him all the little places you loved most. You showed off your little nook tucked into a window where the best view of the city was, in your opinion. You showed him your studio where you danced and made your own music, which you gave him permission to use if he couldn’t make it to the studio at JYP. Finally, you brought him to your piece de resistance.

“This is my favorite place in the whole penthouse, but you can’t tell anyone about it.” You made him cross his heart as you stood in front of the double doors.

He chuckled, making an X over his heart. “Cross my heart and everything.”

With that, you pushed open the doors to probably the biggest walk-in closet he’s ever seen. Again his jaw dropped at all the clothes and jewelry and other assorted accessories on display. You beamed, seeing the corners of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly.

“The reason why I like this room so much is because I love just wearing my fancy clothes and dancing around in my studio. I just have a lot of fun playing dress up. This is the one thing I don’t mind having too much of.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Chan teased, making you laugh and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck.

You showed off some of your favorite outfits and he made you model all of them for him. He even played some music from his phone and the two of you danced together in your closet. You no longer felt ashamed of your money, as long as he was in your arms. This was the best moment of your entire life.

As he skimmed through the racks, looking for another outfit for you to try on, he paused. “What are these?”

When you saw what he was looking at, your smile dropped and your cheeks burned bright red. “Ah, um, yeah. Well, when I told my parents that I had a boyfriend, they decided to spoil you too. Those are yours.”

Chan’s eyes widened yet again as he looked through the expensive shirts and suits. “M-M-Mine?”

You nodded slowly and bit your lip. “Yeah. Sorry. I can take them back if-”

“Do you, um, mind if I try something on?”

It took you a second to comprehend his reaction before you nodded with a shy smile. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, if you want to. You can change outside of the closest if you like.”

While he changed into one of the new suits, you took your time to find the outfit that you had tucked away for special occasions. All your life, you were told that everyone should have one outfit that makes them feel powerful, sexy, and comfortable. Basically something that you only save for special occasions. Of course, yours was probably the most expensive thing in this entire closet, but that’s not important. You believe this occasion is special enough for you to put it on and take it for a spin.

As you were adding the matching jewelry, Chan walked back into the closet, adjusting the ruby cufflinks on the suit. You gasped almost dropping the necklace in your hand when you saw him in the mirror. He looked stunning and so mature, making your heart beat erratically. If what you were wearing was your special occasion outfit, then this must be Chan’s. You almost didn’t think it was him until he blushed bright red at your reaction and he covered his face with his hands to give a nervous chuckle.

“You look absolutely extraordinary, Channie!” You gushed, making your way over to him to get a better look. You gently pulled his hands away from his face to give him an encouraging smile. “Seriously! I almost didn’t recognize you at first! You look absolutely marvelous!”

“Not as marvelous as you.” He smiled before taking the necklace out of your hand and gently clasping it around your neck for you. “There. Now you look perfect.”

Smiling, you replied cheekily with, “Not as perfect as you.”

As Chan’s cheeks darkened, you couldn’t suppress a laugh, making him crack a smile. When your laughter subsided, you gave a wistful sigh before saying, “Are you sure this isn’t too much for you? I don’t want to overwhelm you. I can’t promise my parents won’t if you ever meet them, considering they do love spoiling people with their money…”

“No, it’s fine.” He breathed, brushing his lips against yours, making you shiver. “You are enough and that’s all that matters to me.”

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laurfilijames · 1 year

Text

Lust and Lace

Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Evan Lace x female reader

Words: 4,284

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Stripping. Masturbation. Unprotected intercourse. Oral sex (F receiving). Exhibitionism. Cursing.

Summary: After waking up to find Evan gone, you go to his house later as requested to join him for an afternoon swim. Things continue on in his empty house, making you the star of the show, letting Evan realize again what's really important in life.

A/N: I love Evan and want him happy and in love so here. It continues.

(Also don't have sex in pools but this is fic so it's fine)

Prompts used for @deanobingo were Evan Lace, stripping, exhibitionism/semi-public sex and smoking.

Here's the song that helped inspire this chapter for you to listen to while reading! Enjoy!

Thank you to @blairsanne for photoshopping the heading photo 🥰

---

The late morning sun had you blinking into awareness, your sore, sex-exhausted limbs stretching out comfortably on your bed. With a contented hum you turned over onto your back, searching for the warm body that had sprawled over yours all night between sessions, only to find you were alone.

You knew you didn't dream it; the passion shared between you and Evan was too real to be fabricated, the evidence left on your body all you needed to remember every kiss, caress and moan that took place.

The recollection of your night made your desire strike again, and despite being left completely sated, you found your hands roaming all the places of you that Evan had worshiped only hours earlier.

You eventually rose from the comforts of your bed and the wistful memories that had a permanent smile plastered on your face, walking on tired, achy legs to your kitchen where you discovered a note left by the man who left your heart feeling full and your limbs like lead.

Meet me at mine this arvo

Evan

His handwriting was quick, but not too messy, the years of scribbling out paperwork evident in his penmanship; the haste to get business done in a hurry not outshining his desire for order.

You had never been to Evan's house, but knew exactly where it was, and looking out your kitchen window above your sink at the clear blue sky and bright, blazing sun, you thought of what to wear to such a meeting.

A flowy, cross-over dress that accentuated your cleavage became the winner after hauling nearly every piece of clothing out of your closet, and after having agonized over what time to arrive from not being given a specific time, you drove through his neighbourhood, your watch reading three o'clock and the sun still blazing to match as it shined through your windshield like a magnifying glass and created a warm sheen of sweat on your skin.

You pulled in the ramped drive, parking your old, shit-box car on his pristine, concrete driveway, praying that it didn't leak oil all over it; the contrast between his freshly-waxed Audi and his sleek, modern house to your rusty, outmoded ride making you sweat more than the summer heat was.

You smoothed your hands over the front of your dress as you made your way up to the door, already able to see how empty the house was through the floor to ceiling windows that made up most of the building.

Should I knock? Simply walk in? you wondered, unsure how comfortable you should be making yourself in the home Evan had shared with Joanne up until mere days ago.

Luckily, a note written in the same writing as the one left to you earlier was stuck in the door, indicating for you to let yourself in and head straight through to the back.

You did as instructed, carefully walking through the stark white, vacant spaces that you assumed had been filled with expensive art and decor until you were met with a large sliding door greeting you to the patio where the pool lay just beyond.

Evan was in the pool, looking wet and glorious as he smoothed his hair back and flashed you that convincing smile, the sight making desire burst in your belly.

"Ah, there she is," he breathed, wiping his hand down his face to rid it of excess water.

"You left."

Your tone was both accusatory and questioning, changing his expression to more serious as he squinted up at you.

“I had business to attend to and now it's sorted.”

You stared at each other for a moment as if trying to get a read on the other, and before you had the chance to explain to Evan how much you'd missed his presence, he spoke again.

"Did you dress up for me?"

His head tilted to the side while his eyes roamed your form, making you feel as exposed as his blank walls.

"I- no, I just tossed this on," you lied, knowing you looked ridiculous wearing a frock like this, and being used to a far more effortless style, you rubbed your arm nervously as you placed it across your body and glanced around the lavish backyard; fully aware you looked out of place in more ways than one and that Joanne wore designer gear similar to this as a bloody housecoat.

"Take it off."

"What?"

"Take it off, and join me," he repeated, nodding his head behind him at the large pool.

"I don't have my togs-"

"You don't need them," he grinned, leaning his arms against the ledge of the pool to look up at you. "I'd rather you naked than in that," he nodded at your dress, "it's not you."

You swallowed thickly, feeling even more foolish than you already did, the heat that already burdened your entire body creeping up quickly into your cheeks.

"What I mean is," Evan continued, picking up on your discomfort, "that shit doesn't matter. I don't want you pretending you're someone you're not because that's what you think I like…trying to be like her."

You met his stare, seeing the genuinity in his eyes that matched both the water and the sky, and felt your shoulders drop from being so close to your ears.

"Just be you, and be naked."

He smiled, the stretch of his lips accentuating the lines around his eyes and the indents in his cheeks, making you giggle and nod in agreement.

"And take your time," he added, beginning to wade in the water again, "I need something beautiful to look at now everything else is gone."

Fueling the excitement of stripping down for him, you relished in the feel of his eyes on you - already burning with such keen attentiveness - and peeling your hair off your neck and around to one shoulder, you turned so your back was to him, slowly tugging at the strings tied on your waist that held your dress together.

The silky material slipped off your shoulders, allowing the sun to beam against your bare skin, and you flashed a sultry look behind you at the man whose moustache twitched with approval.

You were careful to let the dress fall slowly down your body, revealing you piece by piece along with a white, lace set, hearing Evan's appeased hum and the soft lapping of water against his golden body. The dress dropped once it passed your bum, pooling at your feet in a heap of patterned polyester, and immediately you felt more like yourself.

You side-stepped out of it, your hands crawling up your torso lovingly, smoothing around to your front where you squeezed your breasts held in their lacey cages. Tipping your head back so the sun graced your face, you moaned at your own touch increasing your growing desire, smiling when you listened to the sound of Evan moving toward the edge, the flick of his lighter becoming a familiar noise.

Pivoting around, you met his smile that was interrupted by a fresh cigarette, his eyes glowing as much as the burning end was.

You slipped a finger under the strap of your bra, sliding it down your arm, and repeating the same on the other, watching as the lustful look on Evan's face grew. But, doing as you were told and not letting him get what he wanted so easily, you pulled it back up, earning a set of raised eyebrows. You giggled and tucked your lower lip in your teeth, moving your hand down until it trailed beneath the band of your thong, your fingertips teasing between your wet folds.

Evan groaned as he exhaled a long plume of smoke, his face turning serious as you continued to rub yourself. Before getting carried away, you retreated your hand, placing your coated fingers in your mouth to suck clean, the act causing Evan to put his cigarette between his lips to hold as he used his hands to free himself of his speedo.

A satisfied sense of excitement made a shiver run down your warm spine seeing him grip his hard cock and begin stroking it, motivating you to continue your striptease.

Reaching around your back for the clasp of your bra, you flicked it open, letting it fall unceremoniously down your arms, exposing your peaked nipples to the blazing heat. You peeled it the rest of the way down, flinging the garment somewhere to the side where it landed on the concrete, your eyes fixed on your audience.

"Come in here and get those tits wet," Evan growled, his smoke still hanging from his lips as he jerked himself languidly.

"Patience," you purred, carding your hands over your chest where you pinched your nipples, sending pressure down to your core.

Evan took a wet hand and tugged the cigarette from his mouth, blowing out the smoke with a forceful breath, his chest heaving as he became even more worked up in watching your show.

You hooked your thumbs in the side of your panties, inching them down slowly, following the action with the sway of your hips.

"You look so fucking good," he hissed, his eyes following the path of your thong, his cheeks flinching as he clenched his teeth hard.

A string of your slick pulled away from your sopping lips, sticking to the white cotton, the sun making it glimmer brightly. It fell to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your stilettos, your complete exposure to the elements liberating.

Evan extinguished his half-finished cigarette on the edge of the pool in preparation of you joining him, exhaling the smoke left lingering in his mouth as he stared you down intensely.

You spun around again, continuing to roam your body with your curious hands, and slowly hinged forward at your waist to reach for the strap wrapped around one of your ankles. Your legs remained locked at the knee, providing Evan with an erotic view of your wet folds and puckered hole, and purposefully worked as slowly as you could to unfasten your heels.

Feeling dizzy with arousal, you finally stood upright, kicking your shoes off across the patio, the concrete hot on the balls of your feet as you shifted your weight between them.

You sauntered over to the pool, your eyes heavy with lust, catching distorted glimpses of his readied cock in the ripples of the water.

With agonizingly slow steps, you made your descent into the water on the smooth, tiled steps, the anticipation of having him touch you starting to become too much.

You gasped as the cool water lapped at your heated skin, making your nipples harden even more and goosebumps break out over your whole body. Needing to make your entrance more tolerable, you dove beneath the water, emerging right in front of Evan with an exaggerated leap, the motion making your wet breasts bounce and jiggle enticingly.

Using your hands to smooth back your hair, you opened your eyes to see him smirking devilishly at you, his satisfaction in your work clear on his handsome face.

The waves created by your movements tickled your breasts, and you whined at the sensation, hoping Evan would finally touch you and put you out of your misery.

Much to your approval, he crashed against you, the hair on his upper lip scratching yours as he kissed you with the most intense demand, his hands coming up to hold either side of your face to bring you flush against his body.

His cock nestled between your thighs, and unable to resist the mind-numbing friction, you ground against him until you both were moaning and gripping at each other desperately.

The buoyancy of the water allowed you to easily wrap your legs around his middle, still gliding along the length of his cock, each pass of your hips threatening for him to slip inside. He growled into your mouth, gripping your bum with callous hands, and speared into you to stretch out your aching walls.

You rode him as fast as you could with the resistance of the water making it slower than you wanted, feeling frantic for your release while Evan walked a few steps to the edge of the pool, pressing your back against the ledge so he was able to meet your rolling hips with forceful thrusts.

Your nails tore through his wet hair, the addition of his spirited pumps increasing your frenzy and taking you deeper into the pit of blinding ecstasy, the vocalization of his pleasure dragging you in completely.

Your mouth fell away from his, your screams of sheer rapture calling freely into the summer day, and you contracted around his girth as he continued to drag in and out of you while the coarse hairs surrounding his cock worked against your clit.

Evan gave a broken chuckle, amused at your disregard to the possibility of neighbours hearing, but humbled as your climax brought forth his own. He slapped against you erratically, causing water to splash crudely around your bodies and out of the pool onto the surrounding concrete, the view of your boobs bouncing in his face and the sensation of your tight, wet walls strangling him sending him into a tailspin.

You continued to ride on him as he sputtered and filled you, extending your orgasm until he was left panting and you were a shuddering mess hanging onto him tightly.

Evan kissed you, smiling against your lips, pushing his feet off the bottom of the pool so he floated away with you still wrapped around him.

"You're amazing, Evan," you praised, feeling euphoric in your after-glow and weightless as you were cradled by both him and the refreshing water.

"Hmm, I know," he chuckled, pressing quick kisses to your lips as he waded through the water.

You stayed in the pool until your skin turned pruney and the sun hung low on the horizon, your shivering prompting Evan to fetch towels and bring you inside where it felt drastically warmer despite it being a balmy summer night.

With the sun now fully set and darkness brining out the stars in the sky, you sat perched on his desk, him in his chair, the only two pieces of furniture that remained in his obscenely big house that felt more so without anything to fill it. The white walls seemed even brighter in their lacking as the lights of his office enhanced them, the black night sky contrasting heavily through the large windows that spanned the entire outer wall.

"Are you warm now?" he asked, placing a cigarette between his lips to light it, his brows knitting together as he did so.

"Yeah, I am," you smiled, feeling perfectly comfortable in just your towel.

He placed his lighter back in his drawer and pushed it closed, leaning back in his chair as he took a long drag from his smoke, staring at you curiously as he did.

"I could have this place filled with all that expensive tat again and you'd still be the most beautiful, priceless thing here."

"Is that so?" you grinned, happy that with some true love and genuine affection, a man who had always lived trying to fill that void could feel as complete as he did now.

"Yeah," he confirmed, leaning forward to get closer to your body, his hands landing on your knees to help them drift apart.

The hand that didn't hold his cigarette trailed up your thigh lightly, making you sigh as a fresh wave of desire for him came over you.

You tried to distract yourself, looking around at the vacant spaces, wondering what his intentions were.

"What are you going to do with this place?"

Evan shrugged as he took a drag, letting his blue eyes float around the room as he thought.

"I don't know," he said simply. "I might sell it, start fresh somewhere different."

You hummed, paying more attention now to all the wonderful features of him, lost in your adoration and lust for him once more.

"Would you mind if I stayed at yours again tonight?" he asked, his tone serious and his eyes telling of his insecurities.

"Will you stay all night?" you returned, watching his face grow brighter as a smile crept onto his face.

"Yes."

"Then, yes, I will happily share my bed with you," you purred, swinging your legs playfully in the air.

"Mmm, I did have a lot of fun in your bed," he said lightly, scooching his chair closer to you as he took a final inhale on his cigarette. "But," he continued, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth while putting it out in the ashtray beside your leg, "I'd like to have a little more fun with you here first."

You leaned back on your hands, your legs spreading wider as a sly grin danced on your kiss-bruised lips, happy to indulge him in one last hurrah in his desolate mansion.

Evan stood from his chair and leaned over you, kissing your lips slowly, his towel falling to the carpet. He plucked the fold of your towel that held it together above your breasts with his fingers, his eyes dropping to take in your naked form as it became exposed to him again.

"You're the only piece of art I need," he spoke softly, his lips hovering over yours.

You whined when he dove into your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh until you couldn't take it anymore, shifting your hips to get closer to the edge of the desk in hopes of contacting his body with your core.

"Stay there," he ordered, taking his seat again, his erect cock bouncing as he did.

You squirmed slightly, waiting for him to make his move, relieved when he didn't torture you by taking his time to touch you.

His lips started at your knee, peppering kisses that tickled on account of his moustache, trailing eagerly up the inside of your thigh until he reached the apex of your parted legs.

The smell of your arousal and the freshness of the pool made saliva gather on his tongue, and rather than swallowing down his appreciation of such a scent, he opened his mouth and deposited it onto your glistening sex. His lips hovered over you, barely touching while his fingers gripped your legs so hard he created indents in your flesh, the careful control he executed with his mouth differing from the feral actions of his hands.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, waiting for him to make contact with you, the thrill of not knowing if or when he would making your body tingle.

His lips brushed over the seam where your leg met with your torso, making you jump and sigh out, humming as you tried your best not to laugh with how it tickled.

Evan chuckled, smiling as he swept his moustache back and forth on the spot, seeing this loving, playful side of him coming through more and more making your heart swell.

"Evan?" you murmured, trying to get his attention momentarily as he continued to gently kiss your inner thigh. "I love you."

Pausing, he glanced up at you, his eyes dancing with yours, a mix of emotions flooding the clear blue of them.

"I love you too."

His voice was slightly hoarse, laced with feeling, and not forgetting his earlier motives, he dove back down between your legs and ate at you passionately.

You gasped and pulled at his hair, his waves soft and full in your fingers, your hips lifting slightly off the wood desk to increase the pressure being put on your core.

Headlights from a passing car reminded you of your blatant exposure to the world, spiking your arousal tenfold, the knowledge of being seen by any neighbour or passer by adding to the frenzy of lust that bombarded you.

Evan licked at you expertly, alternating his broad strokes with his lips pulling and sucking your clit to grow your cries, your hips rolling faster against his face.

You glanced between your heaving breasts to watch him work you with ardent skill, his brows cinched together with effort, the dark hair on his upper lip saturated with your slick and his saliva.

Turning your head to face the windows, you saw yourself in the reflection; perched atop what remained of his personal empire, your naked body made into a meal for the powerful man nestled between your legs, the erotic feeling enhanced when yet another car drove down the street.

"Evan," you whined, nearing your high. He hummed in response, holding onto your legs tighter to keep you from backing away from his intensity. "Touch yourself."

He growled into you at your request, taking hold of his cock to tug it jerkily, his moans from self-inflicted pleasure sending you into bliss.

Curses interrupted by his name poured from your mouth, your hand tearing through his hair desperately for purchase as your other braced behind you on the desk, allowing you to arch your back and lift your hips up to prolong your climax.

Evan stood, running the hand that wasn't wrapped around his length over his mouth, a look of crazed hunger dressing his face.

"Over there," he barked, nodding his head at the windows, extending his hand in that direction to guide you, his other still pumping himself roughly.

You blinked in disbelief, licking your lips as you removed yourself from your seat and stood on shaky legs, the numbing aftershocks of your orgasm spreading fresh want through you when you noticed how close he was to coming undone; his head engorged and leaking, his sack tight to his body.

With a mix of nerves and dauntlessness coursing through you, you sauntered over to the window, glancing behind you to see Evan following closely, still stroking himself, his sly grin and dark eyes making your stomach flip.

You held your breath, stopping at the pristinely clean glass, closing your eyes when Evan came up behind you and began kissing your neck, your hands coming up to splay out on the cold surface in front of you.

His breathing was ragged, tipping so close to the edge, making you wonder if he simply would empty his load onto your bum rather than inside you.

No longer needing to wonder, you felt him squat behind you, lining himself up between your cheeks, his smooth, warm head knocking against your tender folds before pushing through with almost painful resistance.

Gasping, your eyes flashed open, locking with his in the reflection of the window as he started to forcefully thrust in and out of you with raw, brutal power. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, moving you to his pace effortlessly, dragging you along his cock and effectively into another surrender to his assault.

Evan came violently, bucking into you erratically as he filled you with his hot, thick spend, his growls of pleasure echoing through the hollow room.

Watching him through hazy eyes in the reflection of the window, you saw him screw his face up in an attempt to refocus and continue moving inside you, the determination to please you again clear on his face.

You slid one of your hands down the glass to land between your legs, taking some of his seed and spreading it up to your clit where you rubbed yourself briskly and rocked on his cock while it remained hard.

"That's it, gorgeous," Evan groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to hang on, feeling you contract around his sensitive head as he began to slip from you.

You wailed loudly, convulsing through what felt like an infinite moment of rapture, Evan's fingers moving to replace his cock to see your climax through. Your eyes squeezed closed, abandoning the sight of yourself jolting and quivering uncontrollably, letting out a final, drawn-out moan as you soaked both your hand and Evan's with a rush of wetness.

A deranged laugh rumbled from him as he stepped away from you, stumbling slightly, running his hand through his hair and down over his face, letting the euphoria of your session settle in over him.

Eventually, you moved away from the window after catching your breath, no longer paying any mind in being seen by strangers naked and disheveled from sex, following Evan back over to his desk where he collapsed in his chair and chuckled again as he admired you.

You sat sideways on his lap, letting him fold his arms around you while you laid your head on his shoulder, breathing in his sweaty, smoky scent that overpowered his faded cologne.

Evan sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss on your forehead, relaxing comfortably in his chair as he enjoyed the simplicity of being with you.

"I'm very lucky," he said after letting minutes of silence stand between you.

"How so?"

You lightly trailed your fingers across his chest, catching them in his dampened curls, curious for his response as you thought how purely unlucky he had been recently.

When he didn't answer immediately, you sat up a little straighter in order to look at him better, catching the twinkle in his vibrant eyes as an emotional smile grew on his face.

"I've never loved a woman at the same time she loved me back.”

He chuckled and breathed out, looking down and blinking to avoid your penetrating stare, spinning the chair side to side slowly before glancing up at you again.

You cupped his cheek, matching his smile with your own before you crashed against his lips, feeling an overwhelming sense of richness that could never be replaced by the things only money could by.

---

(Bonus photo of him in his office smoking because he's just so sexy 😩😩😩)

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