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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Locked Out of Heaven 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You cling onto the strap of your bag, wringing it as your nerves build with each step. You're really doing this. You're going out with a boy. No, a man.

You stop short, a few feet from Nick's car. You gulp. What would your dad say? What would he do if he found out? How much would he really care? He only cares about your grades.

You stare as you weigh the decision. He's not going to find out. Austin won't even know you're gone. So why are you suddenly so afraid?

Nick's headlights flash and he rolls toward you. You turn to face him as he pulls up. You smile to hide the tremor in your chest.

"Hi," you squeak as he lowers his window.

"Hey, princess? You forget something? What's the matter?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, I don't know," you look back at the house. "I... no. I..."

"Get in, baby." He reaches over to pat the passenger's seat. "Boat's waiting."

You stutter step then stagger around the car. You fumble with the handle and swing the door out. You fall in, ready to dissolve into mist, and shut the door with a jarring snap.

You're so anxious, you could explode. Before you can even reach for the seat belt, Nick's on you. He cradles your cheek and slips his hand down to your chin. He holds you firmly and leans in, brushing his nose against yours.

You shiver at his closeness. His warmth swathes around you and his scent stains your breath.

"You miss me?" He purrs. "I missed you, princess. All I've been thinking about is you. About us."

"Um, yes," you babble and nod into his hand.

His lips curve and he presses them to yours. You brace his forearm in surprise, his veins bulging against your palm. His tongue dips into your mouth and he growls. He leans further over the space between the seats, smothering you.

When he parts, you're dizzy, lips puffy, and cheeks burning. You stare at him dopily. You push your thighs together and tilt your pelvis. That tingly coil winds through you.

He wears short-sleeve white button up with a blue line at the edge of the collar. And pale blue shorts that cut off high up his thighs. He wears those loafer-type shoes with the little nautical knot. Boat shoes? His gold chain sparkles above his chest and his pinkie ring encircles his finger.

"I got everything you need, baby. Don't worry. It's all on the boat," he pets your cheek with his knuckles. "You're just going to sit back and relax. Let me take care of you."

"Al... alright," you wisp.

It's going to happen. You felt it. In his urgency. You know what he wants. He hasn't been subtle. You think you want it too. That must be what makes you so squirmy.

"It's gonna be a great day. Just us. At last." He looks over the steering wheel and buckles his seat belt. You do the same. "Sun, drink, each other..."

He grips the wheel with one hand and slaps his other onto your thigh.

"We got all day and I'm going to take my time, baby. I'm gonna make you feel like the princess you are." He slowly pushes down on the gas. "You don't gotta worry about nothing."

💜

The water gently stirs as you walk down the dock. Nick has your hand in his as he guides you along the shore side. There are other boats tied off there. Luxurious boats with upholstered seats and cabins, large steering wheels and monikers written across the sides.

Austin has pictures of a boat like this on his socials. He went off with his friends last summer and came back hungover for a week. Your dad let him sleep it off while you did his dingy laundry.

A ripple flows through you. Something like anger. Irritation. Your brother gets to go off and have fun without question. Even your dad goes out for drinks or goes golfing or whatever else he likes. Why is it so bad that you do anything at all? If your dad even knew about the trip to the gelato shop, he’d be barking at you for wasting time.

You sigh. Nick squeezes your hand as something jingles in his other. He tugs you back before you walk off the side of the dock.

“Woah, baby,” he draws you to face him. “Don’t want you falling in.” He kisses your forehead and the heat of his lips pulls you back to the present. “Whatcha sighing for?”

“N-nothing. I...” you look around, searching for anything to say. “I’ve never been on a boat.”

“Gonna be a lot of firsts today,” he winks and brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “You stay here. Keep clear of the edge for me, princess.”

He lets you go and shakes the keys in his other hand. You fold twine your fingers together and press your palms to your stomach. You turn to watch him as he nears the edge of the wooden planks. He hops across onto the open rear of the boat, easily launching himself over the gap.

He steadies himself and ducks under the roof. You listen to his steps as the boat shifts subtly. You rock anxiously as a cool breeze brushes across you.

He appears again and bends to slide out a board hidden beneath the floor. He extends it over the space between the dock and the boat. He straightens up and reaches to you, one foot on the ramp.

You untangle your fingers and take his hand. He guides you firmly across onto the polished flooring. You glance around at the open space at the back of the boat, just behind the cover sitting area of the cabin. White leather and azure cushions. A table mounted between the benches, a narrow doorway to the front of the boat with the driver’s seat.

“Wow, this is yours?”

“Sure is,” he drags his hand up your arm slowly. “Ours.”

You look at him, your heart pumping. You smile. You peer back at the dock.

“Oh... I...” You watch a woman on another boat, in a sarong and sun hat.

“I told you. I got everything figured out,” he rubs your shoulder. “Just a minute.”

He turns and goes to slide the board back under the floor. Then he stands and unmoors from the post. The boat rocks with his steps.

He strides back to you and points to the bench. “That’s yours there.”

There’s a white and blue beach bag on the seat. You hadn’t paid it much attention at first glance. You tilt your head curiously.

“You get into your bathing suit and I’ll get us asea,” he coaxes.

“Oh, uh, okay?”

“One thing at a time, right?” He purrs and leans in to kiss you. You close your eyes as a thrill rolls over you. Too far. No going back.

“Yes, Nick.” You murmur as he parts, cradling your face as he brushes his nose up yours and once more presses his lips to your forehead. He hums.

“Good girl.”

His reluctance has his hand lingering on your neck before he pulls back. He turns and struts through the cabin to the front of the boat. He drops into the driver’s chair and you watch him swipe up the keys from the little tray beside the wheel. He turns the engine and the rumble startles you.

You approach the beach bag. You peek inside as you touch the side. You reach in to pull out the bikini top. Oh. You only ever wore a one-piece with shorts. Your dad made you keep a tee shirt on even. This is less than you could even imagine.

You run your finger over the patterning on the triangle of fabric. White with lilac vines printed onto it. It’s pretty and the straps are like thick ribbons.

You glance at Nick and the boat lurches. You land on the seat with a gasp. He looks back.

“You okay? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“I’m good,” you sit and dip your chin, examining the top. Your hands tremble. You peek at him again. He’s focus on steering.

You nod, goading yourself into it. You unhook your purse from across you and put your phone inside. You push it against the back of the sofa bench and drop your shoulders. This is what you want. It has to be.

You peel off your shirt and look down at your bra. Plain, white, boring. You reach back to unhook it, another wary look at the driver. He’s unconcerned as the boat bobs over the waves.

You take off the bra, your nipples hard from the air breezing through, or maybe the anticipation. You tie on the bikini top and it does little to hide them. Your chest feels like it will spill out at any moment.

You stand and search for the bottoms. Not much more than the top. You quickly change into them. You try to stretch the fabric across your bum but it only covers half your cheeks. You chew your lip.

You take the flip flops sticking out of the bag and put them on. You fish around again and pull out a sheer purple cover up. It opens in the front and has little tassels dangling from the short sleeves.

“Alright,” Nick proclaims and makes you flinch.

You bend to gather up your clothes and stuff them away in the bag. He stands and turns, ducking into the cabin then stands straight. He looks you up and down as you cross your arms.

“Princess,” he breaths as he grabs your wrist. “Let me see.”

He takes both your arms and pulls them apart. His eyes rove up and down your body. You shiver as the cover up falls open.

“Oh...” he utters.

You stare at his shirt collar, face ablaze. Is he disappointed. You brace yourself for it.

“Wow,” he slips his hands from your arms and frames your hips. “Baby, you look amazing.”

“Um, really?” You jitter in disbelief. “Er, thanks.”

“Baby, baby, baby,” his thumbs dig into your soft flesh. “We got all day... so you gotta make me go slow.”

“Oh,” you gulp.

“I could...” he begins and chuckles. He shakes his head and pokes his tongue into cheek. “Come on, let’s get settled.”

He lets you go and pops open the top button of his shirt. He goes down the row and pulls apart the fabric, revealing his muscled torso. He strips away the linen shirt and tosses it carelessly onto the bench. You gape at his chest.

“Like what you see?” He taunts and you look him in the face, shrinking in embarrassment.

“I--I--”

He snickers. “It’s all yours, princess. You don’t gotta be shy.”

“I... okay. I'll try.”

“Baby, I got you, alright?” He drawls. “Come on.”

He takes your hand and guides you onto the back of the boat. As it rocks with the water, you’re put even more off-kilter. He squeezes before he releases you again.

He peers around and grabs a striped fabric chest. He flips the top and pulls out a large beach blanket. He spreads it over the flooring. He goes back to the cabin and grabs some cushions and tosses them down too. He plunks the chest at the edge of the blanket.

“Got drinks, got snacks,” he reaches inside, “but most important, sunscreen.”

You nod. He takes out the bottle of cream and wiggles it at you as he comes closer. He touches the edge of the cover-up. “Take this off. I’ll get you.”

“Huh, oh?” You look down and shrug. You let the sheer fabric fall down your arms and pile at your feet. You’re too stunned to catch it.

“Come on,” he gets down on his knees. “Relax, princess.”

He tugs until you get down to. He taps the bottle on the blanket. “Lay down.”

“Uh, okay...” you lay on your back, chest rising and falling quickly as your chest hammers.

He shifts onto his butt and flicks the cap open. He squirts the cream into his palms and rubs them together. The coolness of the lotion is as jarring as the feel of his hands. He starts at your neck, smearing across your collar bone and to your chest.

He drags his hands down, spreading it diligently before squeezing more from the bottle. You twitch as he gets to your chest, poking his thumbs under the edge of the bikini to get cream there too. He rubs it into your skin as your nipples poke against the fabric.

He continues on to your stomach, massaging as he goes, then does your arms, kneading your hands delicately as he gets between your fingers. You’re paralysed as he plies the UV to your skin.

He pokes your thighs, “come on, baby.”

You hesitate before you spread your legs. You squeak as he gets between them on his knees. For a moment you think...

He claps his hand on your thigh and smears the cream into your skin. He squeezes and his fingertips sends sparks through you. You spasm and squeal as he hits every nerve. You wriggle at the unbearable tingle.

You giggle as the sensation turns ticklish. He chuckles too and purrs, paying close attention to your thighs. Pushing his thumbs in until your clasp onto his wrists.

“Nick!”

He smirks at you. “These are nice,” he clamps tighter on your thighs. “You know that?”

You whimper his name again. He pulls out of your grasp and drags down your legs to your feet. When he finishes your soles, he clucks.

“Turn over.”

You blink but do as he says. You flip onto your stomach, feeling the jiggle of your bum as the bathing suit rides up. He hums.

“Oh, princess,” he drones.

“I... sorry,” you reach to fix the bottoms.

He tuts and swats your hand away.

“It’s all mine, baby. Don’t you worry. I want every part of you,” he shoves your hand down so it bounces on the floor. Your knuckles ring with the impact. “I told you, relax.”

He gets up on his knees and blends lotions into your shoulders and down the back of your arms. Then he coats your back and hips, following the curve of your back to your bum. He massages the rise of flesh and bends to kiss the swell. You squeal in surprise and he nips you.

“Mmm, delicious,” he snarls and runs his thumbs along the crease below your butt. You wince and ball your hands.

He continues along the back of your thighs, even more sensitive than the front, and you squirm. You can hear him breath, almost growling. Your own breaths puff out in a storm of excitement and fear.

As he gets the back of your calves, your head swims. He raises himself up and moves beside you. He caresses your arm.

“Now let me see that pretty face.” He grits.

“Sure, uh,” your turn over again and sit up.

He rubs his hands together then cradles your face. He uses his thumbs to cover your cheeks with cream and traces your features. He runs his palms over your face gently and caps off the application with a longing kiss on your lips.

He hovers just before you. “My turn.”

He lets you go and lowers himself down. He hands you the bottle and you take it, dazed as your skin thrums. You watch him as he pushes his chest up just slightly and your eyes scale down his torso. Where do you start?

You dollop the lotion into your hand and mash them together. You start at his neck, feeling his throat bob. He purrs as you get to his shoulders. The firm muscle makes you quiver inside. Then his chest... oh. It feels so nice. So strong.

You retreat and focus on his arms. There’s muscle there too and the thick veins on his forearms have you squeezing your thighs together. His hands are bigger as you focus on them and rubs the cream into his rough palms.

As you ply the sunscreen to his stomach, you feel it clench. You recoil as something catches the corner of your eye. You gasp and stare at the front of his shorts. You can see him inside, nearly bursting out as he bulges beneath the waistband.

He lifts his head and groans.

“It’s okay, baby, I won’t bite... yet,” he snickers. “Keep going.”

You nod and bite your tongue. You put your hands back on his stomach and trail along his sides, sure to get every bit of skin. Your eyes flit back to his shorts. Your insides tighten. You shake at the flicker in your mind, the thought of grabbing it...

Instead, you shift and move to his thighs. As tempting as it is, you’re still terrified. You’ll work up to that. Eventually.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #the 355 #locked out of heaven #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

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lvl109 · 9 hours ago

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“so what i'm hearing is that you hate me and you want me dead.”

a noncommittal hum sounds through the speakers of your phone. “i said no such thing. is there a reason why the dramatics are pertinent even more tonight?”

your eyes narrow. “you haven't called in two days. two days. clearly you hate me.”

a laugh now, tinged with fondness. you try your best to fight off the smile threatening to spread across your lips. “my most sincere apologies, my love. how can i begin to grovel for your forgiveness?”

“you're not getting a lick of forgiveness from me. two days! i was worried.” your brows furrow, amping up the act. “i keep forgetting my stupid boyfriend loves to put himself in harm’s way.”

sylus’ expression softens in the face of your exaggerated complaints, going quiet in the way he does when he realizes his actions have upset you even if just a little bit. it makes your heart sink a little.

“i really was worried,” you finally relent, cracking first underneath the silence. “i know you have to do these things, but. it's not just you anymore. you have people who care about you.”

he looks away for a moment, his gaze downcast. when his gaze returns to the screen, he offers an apologetic smile. “i'm sorry, sweetheart. i didn't mean to frighten you. i'm alright. i promise.”

“you can show you're sorry by getting on the earliest flight home.” your joke slips past in an attempt to divert attention from your growing sadness from being apart for so long. his expression knowing, he agrees without hesitation. “i mean it. i want to see the wine glass when you're on board.”

it's not long before the two of you are engrossed in a recount of your day—from grueling paperwork to wanderer attacks to discounted groceries (a steal) and so on. he listens with rapt attention, adding little comments either to stoke your dramatized frustration or make you laugh between words. in turn, sylus fills you in on what he's able to share on his end, ensuring you that while things were hectic, he'd run into little to no trouble in the two days you hadn't heard from him.

opening your mouth to grill him once again—really, it was that serious—your attention is caught by the sound of keys entering a lock at the front door. sylus pauses when you stop talking, letting out a confused sound at your silence.

“sweetheart? is everything alright?”

muffled footsteps sound from the living room followed by the faint sound of a bag dropping on the couch. the drag of socked feet against the floor is heard for a few more seconds until the bedroom door is pushed open a bit wider, revealing none other than a tired mass of limbs in slight rumpled work clothes.

still, the sight of him makes you smile. “zayne is home,” you say quietly, partly in response to sylus’ question, partly in greeting to your other boyfriend.

too tired for words at the moment, he sheds his jacket and falls forward on to the bed, letting out a tired sigh as he worms his way between your legs much to your vocal surprise. his cheek rests against your thigh, your legs folded over his shoulders.

“long day?” you ask softly, threading a hand through his hair. his lashes rest above his cheeks, casting shadows as he nods after a long beat.

“missed you.” he noses against your bare skin, pressing kisses from your knee to just shy of where your sleep shorts just barely cover your pussy. the sudden mood switch makes you inhale sharply, the hand in his hair tightening a fraction in surprise. “can i?”

you nod immediately, momentarily forgetting about your phone when zayne lifts your legs up and gently tugs your shorts off. two fingers trace against your heat over the thin cotton of your panties, watching through a steadily darkening gaze when your hips shift towards his touch. “you know that doesn't mean anything to me. i need words.”

“yes,” you whimper quietly, spreading your legs on your own. the slight raise of his brows in approval is enough to make you bite your lower lip as large hands grip your thighs. “please touch me. i want you to touch me.”

“and i’m supposed to sit here alone while the two of you ravage each other like animals? how cruel.”

zayne’s eyes narrow when he hears the other voice, pulling at the band of your underwear and soothing over the skin when the fabric snaps back in place. “good to know you're alive,” he mutters dryly. “nobody was worried about you. you can go back to fighting criminals and the like.”

hazel green eyes narrow a bit in faint mirth when you giggle at sylus’ answering scoff. “not true. i was just getting an earful about how incredibly inconsiderate i was concerning the lack of hearing my voice.”

“i cussed him out,” you pipe up cheerfully, earning a kiss to your skin once more.

“good girl.” if you had feathers, they would be fanned out as you preened from the praise. at your boyfriend’s detriment, but it was a little deserved.

sylus sighs, the sound crackling through the tiny speakers. “rewarding bad behavior, doctor? that's a first for you. color me surprised.”

“some rules can be bent within reason.” zayne’s hands slip your panties off, cold fingers spreading your lips open before ghosting over your hole. you muffle your squeak of surprise with a gasp that doesn't go unnoticed by the silver hired man. “watch, will you? keep the phone in view of your face.”

it takes a beat for you to realize the last part was addressed to you. a shaky okay is all you can muster up before his thumb presses against your clit in slow circles. immediately your eyes close against the slowly building pleasure, letting out a sweet sigh. but zayne stops, eliciting a confused sound.

“keep your eyes open for me.” after you let out a quiet sound of affirmation, zayne continues his movements between your legs. “and don't touch yourself.

sylus’ barely stifled sound of surprise makes your heart skip a beat. he lets out a slightly peeved sigh, grumbling incoherently, but when you glance back at your screen you catch a glimpse of his reddening ears. “i wasn't—”

“lying will only make your punishment worse when you come back home.” his sharp rebuttal silences him immediately, making you twitch in anticipation. zayne resumes toying with your clit, his pace increasing with his slowly building impatience. “i told you to watch. how do you expect someone to give you what you want when you can't follow simple instructions?”

your hand grip the phone as pleasure zips up your spine, letting out small gasps and whines—but you force yourself to keep your eyes open despite wanting to close them so desperately. zayne rewards your compliance with two fingers inside of you, a pleased hum going barely unheard over your sharp cry.

“see what happens when you behave? you get what you deserve. isn't that right?” his hand moves to cup the side of your face. “see how good she is? texts me her location even before i ask. so kind. so considerate.”

you just barely hear the sound of muffled curses coming from your phone through the heightened haze of desire, your hips rutting down against his fingers as your bleary gaze focuses on the man before you. the tips of his ears flushed pink being the only giveaway that he, too, was becoming just as affected.

pulling out his fingers, he doesn't have to utter a word before your lips part and wrap around them. “just perfect,” he praises quietly. your thighs squeeze together in an attempt to stave off an impending orgasm.

the sound of zayne’s belt zipping through his belt loops makes the both you groan in tandem, sylus’ immediately beginning to complain about the angle. “let me see her. don't be cruel.”

wordlessly, your phone is picked up and the view is switched to the back camera, letting the other man see through zayne’s perspective. his fingers wet with your spit, your shirt pulled up just under your chest from your squirming, and your pussy wet from his teasing. a little further down is the sight of zayne straining against his slacks. his wet hand leaves your mouth and splays over your navel, his thumb toying with your clit again.

zayne laughs a bit when your hips jerk to chase your orgasm, putting the camera in view of your petulant expression. “you know what you have to do if you want to cum.”

you don't waste a single second. “can i?” your eyes widen with unshed tears, already at your limit with zayne’s teasing. “please, sylus? i've b-been so—aah—good, fuck!”

you can't see his expression from where your spread out, but the sight of you on his screen, pleading with him for your orgasm makes his pupils dilate. the hunger in his voice is near tangible when his voice grits out, shared greed for your pleasure palpable even through the phone. “give her what she wants and more.”

everything is a blur soon after. zayne’s barely suppressed groan of relief when he pushes inside of you, hips smacking the back of your thighs as his hand remains pressed against your stomach. praise crackling through the phone followed by slick noises and low curses. the headboard hitting against the wall over and over again. the intense feeling of being watched.

half completed begging turns into a repeated mantra of the same three words that affects them both. tears streaming down your face, hair askew across your pillow as your hands scramble for anything to hold on to. “i wanna cum—i wanna cum, i wanna—i—”

“let go, sweetheart, do it—”

“show us how good you can take it—”

your orgasm feels like an explosion of light behind your eyes, squeezed shut as your body curls in on itself. you cry out and grip zayne’s arm as he shudders through the sudden grip around his cock, spitting out filth that makes your heart skip.

“fucking—take it—take it all—” his voice is shot, frantic movements jostling you up the mattress as he chases his own orgasm. the phone drops from his hand when yours find his hair and tug sharply, one final moan leaving his lips before his hips stutter and his cock pulses inside of you.

as he catches his breath, your shaky hand pats around for your phone and angles right at the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, the sight enough for sylus to choke on his next inhale and finish with a muffle grunt into his fist.

quiet panting fills the air. zayne’s forehead rests against your shoulder, his eyes closed as your other hand strokes through his hair. exhaustion catches to him quick, just barely having enough energy to pull out and clean the two of you up before he slumps back down into the sheets and passes out.

you and sylus share a look of faint amusement before you turn a press a kiss to zayne’s forehead. “he definitely needed that.”

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kell-5 · 2 days ago

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Wing's secret

Warning: romantic content, mild jealousy, hint of a more intimate moment, gender-neutral reader, possible spelling and lexical errors

addressing : you, your, yours, they, their

Character: Wing x reader

____________________________________________

The Crystal City glowed, as always, in cool shades of blue, but your heart was hot with tension. You, the Archivist of the Circle of Light, were sorting through old archives when you came across the unexpected - Wing's holorecord, hidden among the training reports.

He started playing and his voice was usually calm, it sounded gentle and thoughtful

"I will never forget you. You were my continuation, my strength.." - the audio holorecording sounded

You didn't immediately understand who he was talking about, as a thought occurred to your processor, what if he was talking about his ex-partner, you thought it would be worth asking him who this "continuation" was, you weren't one of those who gets jealous, since you trust Wing, but now you felt a slight twinge of this jealousy, you were interested in how often he mentioned his ex, your fingers squeezed this recording, but you loosened your fingers in time so as not to break the datapad, you exhaled trying to calm down.

Suddenly the door to the archive opened, you threw the record away with a serious face and continued sorting through other datapads, the one who entered was none other than Wing

"Are you busy?" His voice was calm, but his optics were meticulously studying your servo wires, which were too quickly translating the datapad to "deferred"

You didn't look up, but your energetic movement of the servo wire betrayed your confusion.

"Yes. Archiving. Usual work"

He came closer, you didn't move from your place, so as not to show your embarrassment even more, your optician looked for a moment at the drawer of your desk where the record was, and immediately returned to her task, sorting the datapads

"You are so diligent with me" he tilted his steering wheel, his voice was warm, and curiosity played in the optician "found anything important?"

If you could sweat you would be covered in sweat in an instant, you didn't plan on talking to him about it right now so you forced out while still trying to keep a serious tone

"No"

Silence

Wing reached out the servo cable - not to you, but to the nearest rack and took a random datapad

"Then ....I won't interfere" he diverted the datapad in the servo cable, but his gaze slid to your table "if you need.... help ..."

You had to run, or confess, or ....

"...Maybe it's time for a snack?" You stood up, locking the necklace

Wing looked at you in surprise, then laughed quietly

"Snack?" He put the datapad back in place "okay."

......

Crystal Bridge. Circle of Light Training Hall.

Wing stood in the middle of the hall, his sword gleaming in the cold light of the crystal walls. He was sharpening the blade—not because it was dull, but because the routine helped to organize his thoughts.

He knows that his Conjunx Endura, the archivist, but today they were very tense, it was noticeable in their gestures, the way they tried to hide their emotions under seriousness.

Wing already guessed that they had found something in his past, nothing shameful, but there were things he did not talk about.

...

You thought about how best to ask Wing about what you had seen and heard.

So a little later you went to the training room, where Wing was. Wing had just finished another training session, he turned around as he heard someone enter the training room, Wing smiled at you.

You came closer

"Aren't I distracting you?" You asked

"Not anymore" his calm, light smile was still on his face

"Wing ....I have a question.."

"I'm listening to you, worldspark"

"Did you have someone before me?" You asked a little innocently

You looked at Wing in anticipation, you held the datapad you found behind your back in the servo wires.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, did you have someone before me?" You asked more directly, you showed the datapad and gave it to Wing

Wing watched the recording again, but to the end where it said that he was talking about a sword, and you didn't have time to watch it to the end, your optics widened from understanding how you looked

"Sweetiapark I was talking about a sword" Wing smiled looking at you, his smile still remained light

"What? Really?" You were surprised and didn't know where to go from shame, because you started to be jealous of Wing for his "ex" who turned out to be a sword, if you could your face plates would be very, very red

"You were jealous of me for a sword?"

"... A sword? A sword?!" Your processor froze for a second. If there was a way to get through the ground, you would have used it.

Silence. Even the hum of the fans seemed too loud.

You stared at the floor, where your fingerprint was already starting to burn out in shame.

“It was... an emotional breakdown,” you whispered, quite ready to disappear.

Wing put a hand on your shoulder:

“Flame, if you had watched the recording...” He turned on the hologram - the image of the blade appeared in the air. “...you would have known that I would never trade you for a weapon.”

Pause. Then - his eyes flashed:

“Although it did look good in my hands.”

You pushed him desperately in the chest, but Wing was already laughing, pulling you closer.

Shame turned to something warm as Wing held your servo, his fingers sliding over your wrist.

“You know…” his voice was low, on the verge of irony and tenderness. “If I were to truly compare you to a sword, it would only be because you are the only one who can break me.”

You were getting excited, but he didn’t let you say a word. His lips stopped a moment before touching, deliberately provoking:

“Say, flame… Do you really want me to stop joking?”

“No.”

Your response was instant. You gripped his shoulders, finally closing that damn distance.

The kiss was passionate and hot, so hot that your cooling systems had raised their activity level to mid-level.

Wing's digits traced the contours of your details on your waist, studying them and memorizing what they felt like.

After the kiss, he looked at you and smiled his usual smile, but there was a faint tenderness in the smile.

"Here... too open," you whispered, feeling his energy field hum at a low frequency.

Wing stifled a laugh in your neck module:

"You know the rule if no one sees the violation, it doesn't exist."

Suddenly, footsteps in the hallway.

You fell to the floor in a perfect battle roll, pretending to practice dodging. Wing stood above you with his sword as if demonstrating a technique.

The door opened. Dai Atlas froze in the doorway.

"Are you... training?" his voice was full of suspicion.

Wing calmly lowered his blade: "Yes. Yesterday the flamethrower lost to me at chess. Today he's working off his debts."

When Dai Atlas left, Wing opened a hidden equipment compartment, cramped but large enough for two.

"No one will find us here," his voice merged with the rustle of the ventilation system.

You felt his fingers find the sync connector on your back:

"You're not against unconventional training, are you?"

Your answer disappeared into his mouth module.

————————————————————————

(this was supposed to be a short fic, but whatever, I'm happy with the result)

(English not my native language)

#transformers idw #cybertronian reader #transformers x reader #idw wing #wing x reader

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thequeenreaders · 3 days ago

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free show.

➵ chris evans x f! chubby reader

the handyman neighbor has secretly been watching her. he has seen all of it: her dress up, the sway of her hips, and the lewd moans coming out of her mouth as she cum.

realm: smut, neighbor! chris, modern au, 18+

caution: my old writing was ass (still is), slight ooc, profanity, neighbors, handyman, peeping tom, pervert! chris, smut (eventually), pining, suggestive, teasing, flirting, masturbation, daddy kink, sex toys, voyeurism 𐀣 warnings shall be amended as the tale unfolds. exercise discretion when reading. this is a fictional work — all character portrayals exist solely for narrative purposes and do not mirror their original forms.

length: 4.3k

notations: helolo! i got inspired by a couple of audios from reddit again for this one-shot👀 it has been a longgggg time since I finally wrote something, freaking online classes keeps on stacking up assignments and had to study for the exams. i hope you gois enjoy this. don't forget to wash your hands and stay safe! ❤🐖 (e/c) is eye color, (f/c) is favorite color, and (c/s) is color of skin.

index ➢ chapter two

Chris huffed out in relief as he stood up straightly and took a good look at his freshly cleaned pick-up truck, the vehicle shining with the sun and not a single dirt was spotted. He wore a satisfied smile on his face and grabbed the hood of the car, "Can't wait to use you soon." Murmured the brunette to himself as he closed the bonnet and started to collect the tools that were on the ground when his cellphone vibrated in his pocket.

He closed the toolbox first and carried it to the porch, placing it on a nearby table before getting his phone and read the user. As soon as he read who it was, his mouth stretched into a grin, and answered, "Hey Mack. Any updates on your current project?"

"Yeah, it went great actually. I didn't think it'll work but it did." Anthony responded with proudness in his voice, "How about you? Anything new happened there?"

Chris hummed as he grabbed his towel that was hung on the fence and used it to wipe his perspiring, shirtless body, "Nothing much, it is pretty hot out here and I just had my truck cleaned. Anyways, what made you call me?"

There was unsureness in his voice, "Uuuh, I know that you love your car so much, but can I borrow your truck tomorrow? I promise that I'll take good care of her!"

Chris chuckled, "No no no, I don't trust you, man. What do you need it for?"

"I'm just gonna pick up some wood and other shit. Trust me on this."

"Hmm, how about we pick up your order, just to make sure nothing will go wrong. Either way, I also need to get something. You owe me a beer for that." He suggested and held back his laughter when he heard Anthony sigh from the other line and eventually agreed.

Chris placed his hand on his hip and observed the sunny day and surprisingly quiet neighborhood, "I also do need to fix the back door of my house, I accident- oh, there she is." He lowered his voice down a bit just as soon as he saw his favorite, plump neighbor come out of her house and sat down on her chair by the porch with a cold glass of lemonade in her hand.

"What do you mean 'There she is'?" Mackie questioned.

"My neighbor." He responded with a small smirk on his lips and watched you adjust your sunglasses.

"Ooooh, the new neighbor? The cute one?"

Chris lowly chuckled at his friend's question, "Yes, the cute one. I noticed that every time I’m out here doing work, she’ll also go out and do something.” He said and scanned her body from head to toe. You were wearing an (F/C) bikini top and underneath is a see-through sarong, which shows the string underwear and your whole backside, "If you can only see what she is wearing right now, she's probably showing off." He joked and heard his friend laugh.

"Alright alright, you lucky bastard. Anyway, I gotta go now, my boss is calling me. Tell me if something happened between the two of you and I need that truck!" Chris shook his head from side to side but still had a grin on his face and ended the call, putting back his device in his patch and glanced towards your way. It might seem like you were enjoying yourself with a nice, cool drink on a hot day and nothing else, but that is not it. Chris is aware of your very obvious intentions despite acting like you were not aware of your actions, and that only made it more fun for him because he gets to see live and free porn from time to time. All he has to do is to look at his window from the bedroom.

He remembered all of the times you were not being so conscious of any attention that you could draw on and Chris found your confidence so provocative. If you were dancing for hours on end, he would not mind watching you and how your body jiggle, it only arouses him more. At first, he was unsure if (Y/N)'s attraction was for him and perhaps was thinking of someone else. However, one of her special occasions proved him wrong.

Chris groaned as he lied down on his soft bedding and unlocked his phone to go to Google search, grabbing his earphones from the side and plugging it in. It was another stressful work that he had to take care of and now he is planning to get some release. He searched up his favorite pornography site and began scrolling through the feed until he finally found something that will interest him. He was not in the mood to watch two people have sex, but looking for videos that contain a woman playing with herself, so that was what he wrote in the search bar.

He tried every video that has an interesting thumbnail enough for him to click and the results were not his exact expectations, causing him to sigh in boredom and continued to swipe his thumb upward. Chris clicked on another video and observed the woman who was leaned back on the headboard of her bed and fingering her twat at a semi-fast pace, her moans ringing in his ears and that is enough to pull his half-hard cock out of his boxers, even if it sounds to be quite echoing and out of sync.

'That's weird, it never happened before.' Chris wondered before shrugging it off and started at a slow pace and followed the woman's rhythm, collecting pre-cum from his tip with his thumb and spreading it down to his shaft, his eyes glued to his screen and specifically on the girl's vagina. Watching the woman getting herself off was not enough for him, but the whimpers and moans are what gets him going, and thought of other scenarios such as a hot chick riding his cock like there is no tomorrow. He screwed his eyes shut as he gripped his cock firmer, his mind wandering off to his neighbor's swaying wide hips as she danced to a song she kept on the speakers for the fifth time not too long ago.

Chris knows that it is illicit and alarming for him to be watching what his neighbor was doing without her knowing, he knows that he should just mind his own business and stop being a pervert, but how could he? How could he ignore such a seductive, shapely woman confidently show off her delectable body without a care to the world? He sometimes ponders what you taste like, how soft you are, how your thick thighs will cover both sides of his head as he ate you out. Just the thought of that could make his phallus explode.

He opened his eyes and darted back to his screen, and his brow raised when he saw that the girl was switching into her next position, yet still making sexual noises. Deciding to test the sounds, he pressed the pause button and it made him perk up when the moans are still playing and oh, those whimpers do sound familiar. Chris then took off his earphones and turned his head towards the source of the sounds, which is at his dearest window that is covered by the drape, 'Oh god, what is she up to now?' He put his penis back in his underwear and got out of bed, her moans getting a bit louder as he headed towards the aperture. Chris grabbed the curtain and peeked out, and what he saw instantly made his knob fully stiffened.

There you were with the windows open and curtains drawback, as usual, and bouncing on your bed as you ride a large dildo and used the headboard as leverage. Your jiggling ass was facing him and he was hypnotized whenever you lowered down and your pussy swallowed the whole length, 'Holy fuck!' Chris found himself pulling his dick out again and started to stroke his shaft, 'She's so fucking perfect, good fucking god.' He does sometimes wonder if you ever see or feel like someone is watching you and maybe exposing yourself too much, but he ain’t complaining.

"Oh, daddy! Your dick feels so g-good!" Your breathy moans sent goosebumps throughout his skin and soon emulated your hasty rapid, his grip on his meaty prick only tightened and more of his clear wetness dripped down to his boner.

Chris groaned lowly as he could, his hand sliding down whenever you lowered yourself to your toy and he visualized himself to be in that same room and he was under you, enjoying the view of your bouncing jugs and your weight pressing his lower region further to the bed as you ride him as if your life depended on it, "Yes baby, keep riding like that for daddy." He whispered, his hand fully coated with his fluid and his girth pulsed in rapture, hissing at the sudden palpitate, "Yes yes yes, ride that fucking dick. Such a good girl for me. Holy fuck!"

Your mouth formed into an 'o' and tried your best to keep up the tempo you recently commenced, the third upcoming climax bubbling up in your abdomen and you could not wait any longer, your mind and body suffused with so much bliss that you are very sure that your physique will be tumefied and fatigued by the morning. You leaned back with one arm supporting behind you and your other hand came in contact with your little bean, "Oooooh fuck! Daddy! Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" You threw your head back in ecstasy at the added up pleasure and as your peak was building up, your mind drifted to your fine, hot neighbor and a smile came upon your ecstatic face, remembering the time when he was shirtless while tending his garden, his beefy torso tempting you to just grind your dampness on his abs and hairy chest.

His knob was gnawing for some release and his breathing got quicker when he sensed that he was also near his climax, "Shit, come on, baby. Be a good girl and cum for daddy." Another scenario was made up in his head where Chris buried his whole cock in your throat, his hands holding both sides of your head as he spilled his milk down your esophagus, forcing you to take all of his stiffies and swallow his seed. He was focused on building up his peak, watching you intensely as you reached yours. Evans was at least expecting to hold it a little bit longer but it already popped when he heard his name got whimpered out of your pretty mouth, your legs shaking at the orgasm as you chanted his name like a prayer, 'Oh fuck, she just... she just said my name!' He panted as he looked down at his mess and saw that it reached outside his window, realizing that this was probably the greatest release he had experienced in his life so far, let alone just from masturbating-

"Chris!" A womanly voice called and his head shot up at the mention of his name, seeing a pair of (E/C) eyes with a beaming smile on her lovely face, "Are you okay? You look like you're spacing out."

Chris chuckled and fanned himself with his towel, "It's hot out here, can you blame me?" His eyes glimpsed down to the curve of your haunch when you stood up from your Adirondack chair and grabbed the pitcher of lemonade, indecisive whether his mouth is thirsting over your derriere or the fresh juice.

"It is very hot today," you agreed and filled the other empty glass with the sweetened beverage, "Do you want some lemonade? I'm sure it'll help you with this parching weather." You offered as you glanced back to see him just watching you in somewhat amusement, a brow on your face lifting at his expression. It may not seem like it, but you are up to date to his ogling at your form from time to time and you found it mirthful, keeping an eye on him as he proceeded towards your portico, "Do you like my bikini top today? I mean, I'm willing to let you borrow it since you have a bigger chest than me." You randomly teased and reached your arm out with a cup of lemonade in your hand to him, referring to his nude torso.

He shook his head from side to side with a grin on his face as he stood in front of you and accepted the drink, his height and massive frame sending you in awe, "Thank you for the drink, but no thanks for the bikini. I got better ones." The blonde jokingly retorted and gulped his juice.

You laughed at his response and nodded, "Sureeee, but it will look good on you, though." You propounded as you sat back down to your seat and crossed your legs, causing the sarong to rise a bit and revealed more of your (C/S) skin, peering up at him with playful eyes.

Chris snickered and finished the drink, "I'll think about it." He gently placed the glass on the table, the freshening liquid soothing his partially drained body, "So, it's been around two or three weeks since you moved into this neighborhood. How you like it so far?" He asked as he leaned on the porch railing and crossed his arms. He had occasionally been struggling to keep up the chill facade that he usually has when he was around people; however, pictures of your face twisting in glee and pleasured gasps coming out of your kissable lips echoed in his deprave mind each time he was near your presence, resulting his insides fluttering and making unnecessary movements.

You hummed, "Well, it's nice out here. I'm glad that I chose the right area and," you edged the word the last word and lightly swirl the liquid in the cup, getting a little bashful on what you were gonna say next, "I'm lucky to have such an attractive man next door." You boldly responded with a small smirk as you brought the rim of your glass to your own, peering up at him who was eyeing your throat as it gulped down the juice, his profound look made your heart stir.

His pupils dilated at your assertion, fingers twitching in temptation to press you against the wall and devour your exquisite, inviting lips, but Chris doesn't want to give in to your tantalizing ways just yet, might as well play along with what you started.

He let out a small chortle and the sound of it made you kinda puzzled whether he was amused at your comment or amused at you until he stated, "Hmm, thank you. I can definitely say the same thing, kitten. It's been a while since I saw a beauty queen as my neighbor."

You can feel your face getting hotter than the weather at the pet name he gave you, but (Y/N) playfully rolled your eyes at his blarney and waved it off, "You're so cheesy, Chris." You giggled as you stood up to your feet and grabbed the glasses while Chris defended himself, saying that it was true. "Yeah, yeah. Hey, I'm just gonna put this back- Oh!" A reminder popped in your head as you faced the entrance door. You recalled that the spare room door was unhinged and having the brown-haired handyman behind you is good timing.

You slowly turned your body and caught a short sight of him looking down to your bum before quickly raising his chin and meeting his green orbs, but you brushed it off and acted like you did not witness him checking you out, you shared, "Oh shoot, I just remembered that my uh... the door for my other room is broken and I don't know how to fix it." You pursed your lips and held your laughter when Chris lifted his brow in question with a grin, "Hmm, and?"

You dramatically sighed and pulled out your puppy face, "I know that he assisted me last time with carrying my boxes when I moved in, but I need his help again."

The fleshy lady let out a titter when Chris threw his hands up in the air in a joking matter and remarked, "Alright, Chris the builder to the rescue!"

"Huh," Evans hummed as he knelt to his knee and observed the separated, bottom hinges of the door, spotting the parts that need to be repaired, "The hinges were only loose, so it doesn't need a new one. I just need to tighten it a bit more and ta-da." He explained and gave you a reassuring smile as you stood beside him and listened to what he described, his reassurance gave you a sense of alleviation.

You nodded and took a step back for his working space, feeling incredibly blessed for having a friendly neighbor and a jack of all trades, "Thank you so much, Chris. You've been such a help to me. I'm not exactly making money right now, but maybe I can toast some cheese bread and make coffee for you as my repayment?" (Y/N) offered as she blocked out the portrayals of you and him in carnal positions and blowing him as your recompense instead, and her brows raised when he made a wave gesture as a 'No'.

"Eh, it's fine. You're adjusting to your new environment, so keep what you have left for yourself. Besides, I like helping people and I am privileged to have such a sight for sore eyes of a neighbor who I get to see every day." He threw a playful wink at you and you laughed it off, finding his corny remarks quite hilarious. Chris did always enjoy seeing you do simple tasks, especially in the bedroom, but he is not planning to mention any of it since that is going to be completely out of line.

"Stop it, Chris." You simpered and tugged a piece of hair behind your ear, slightly fiddling with the knot of your sarong, "While you're at it, I'm just gonna go to my room and take a shower. Again, thank you so much."

He chuckled, "No problem, sweetcheeks."

Chris sighed in relief as he sat down to the floor and got a good look of the now mended postern, pleased with how it turned out to be perfectly functioning like how a door should be, "Okaaayy, time to inform the lovely lady." He returned the tools in the tool case and stood up as he picked up the box. Evans attempted to find your bedroom, but he was quite unfamiliar with where it was located, despite almost having the same interior rooms design of the whole house, so he decided to call out your name instead to avoid snooping around.

"Over here!" Your voice yelled out from the right and he followed, seeing the bedroom door was half-opened and large enough to fit the head in there. Chris was about to open his mouth and notify (Y/N) about the repaired door, and perhaps toss more cute nicknames in your way, but his steps came to an end just as soon as he caught the sight of you only wearing cotton panties, your back facing him and reaching your folded shirt that was placed on the nightstand.

'Jesus Christ, she's fucking sexy.' He thought and gulped when he saw a glimpse of your side boob and the way your huge cheeks hugs the undies, visioning his face to be buried in those full rump. Even after seeing you naked and even wanking off a few times, the view of your figure still makes him experience erotic tingles and his eyes never get uninterested. Chris was convinced that you are a goddess in disguise.

He was addled when Evans came to a realization, if you were still partially bare and dressing up then she should not have called him just yet, right? His silent inquiries made his brows straiten, were you not aware that your door was open and the guest could easily peek in? You must have at least some cognizance in spite of what have you been displaying from your window, you were alone at those times and right now, you have a visitor.

Not knowing how to come up with a conclusion, he quietly took a few steps backward, leaned his back against the wall, and took a deep breath before he spoke in a lowered voice as to not spook you, "I was able to fix the hinges, it was easy as I thought it would. Do you wanna check it out?" He wiggled his arms in an attempt to loosen his taut shoulders at the moment he heard your padded footsteps. Chris then straighten his posture when he heard the creak sounds of the door as it opened and there you were in pajama shorts and a baggy shirt, 'Cute.' He smiled and you returned the mien, his eyes trailing down to your chest and his grin almost dropped when he noticed your nipples vaguely straining your top, his clutch on the handle of the toolbox strengthen. His thoughts were jumbled:

Is she this heedless?

Maybe she is just comfortable with him, but she has only known him for only two or three weeks!

She is probably teasing me or is it possible that she has always been well up on her raunchy deeds?

Chris has seen you naked countless times, but seeing it up close has a different sentiment and it only added up to his adulation for you, his newly and plumptious neighbor who seized his attention since the day you set foot on this newfangled location. Recollecting the memories of you jerking off warmed his face, yet kept the amiable look to distract you from the rigidifying manhood from below.

(Y/N) giggled at how adorable Chris's smile is, thankful for not looking down at his pants, "Of course! Lead the way, handsome." She spoke with a small smirk on her lips.

Oh boy

"Fucking finally," Evans exhaled as he plopped down to his bed and rested both of his hands behind his head, his tired muscles instantly felt relaxed when his body came in contact with his comforters. Chris was worn out after repairing a lot of things: the engine of his pickup truck, your spare room door, and the back door of his house.

Back at (Y/N)'s house, he developed a semi hard-on as he was teaching you what he did to the pivot, feeling extremely embarrassed and sweltered. Luckily, he was able to hide and resist his urges until he accomplished all of his tasks and at last, he has the time to compose and do what he wanted to do, and that is to get one's rocks off.

His mind floated to your curvaceous frame and his hand crept down to his rigidity, gently sliding his boxers down and exposed his boner. Chris started to palm himself, groans of pleasure coming out of his mouth while he pretended that his hand was yours, brushing his thumb on the head and imagined your tongue swirling around the tip in lieu.

Your haunting whines resonate in his fantasy and breathe out a few curse words and praises, his mouth thirsty for your delicious juices and longing to feel the softness of your body. Evans bet that your pussy is mushy, mellow, balmy, and-

"Uhm... Chris~"

The corner of his mouth stretched from ear to ear, forming a smug smile on his visage, and keenly rose himself to advance towards his aperture, 'Another free performance from the beautiful woman.' Chris warily pushed the curtain to the side and peeped out, the view from his window causing him to suspire in awe.

(Y/N) was settled on the bed with a bunch of pillows on her back and she was not wearing anything else except her shirt that was propelled further to your collarbone, so your breasts were uncovered as your legs were spread open, impaling your vulva with the artificial penis in a regular tempo.

He observed how your face twisted in glee each time the toy sinks in your honeypot, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, your melons spilled out of your shirt, and your eyes rolling back at the way the dildoe just slips in and out very easily due to your glistening juices; he was enthralled.

"That's a good girl." Chris mumbled and started off massaging his meat, licking his lips as he was earnestly focused on your dripping, abused cunt, "Uggh fuck...Yes, keep fucking yourself, baby." He let out a discreet grunt when you whimpered his name, his pace accelerating like yours, "Just like that, oh fuck. You're such a good girl for me."

You mewled as you pushed the sex toy a little deeper, your other hand caressing your breast and your eyes screwed shut with your thoughts about the hunky factotum. Just thinking about how he could manhandle you with ease and ruthlessly pierce your cunt with his cock, "Daddy! I w-wanna cum, can I please cum?" (Y/N) whined to herself and removed your palm from your tit to rub your clit, feeling your impending apex ready to burst after a couple more thrusts.

His breathing got heavier as he also recognized the looming pinnacle of his self-stimulation, a picture of your face covered with his sticky semen appeared in his head and it was enough for him to nearly have another orgasm of his life when he felt his whole body froze when a gasp escaped from your lips and your alluring, (E/C) orbs was staring directly at his, causing you to stop your movements as well.

#celebrities #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x chubby reader #chris evans x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #photo from pinterest #republished #og date: october 28 2020

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radioiaci · 5 hours ago

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It's hard to argue with Simon's estimation of how hard Alastor had slept. He knows that he found it much easier with that weight next to him - though part of him will not outright admit that Simon's presence is the reason. And so he only offers a slight roll of his eyes as he settles at the small table along with the other to enjoy the tea and the bread. It is a fairly standard 'breakfast' - simple and not exactly full of variety. But it's enough to keep him going until he can find some time to cook something heartier like eggs or - on occasion - ham, when he can get it. But that is much rarer.

"You in my trousers would be a bit too comical for public appearance, yes. I might be poor, but I'm not entirely bereft of decorum," he says in between his chewing. "You should have some time to get things washed and dried proper. I need to head down the road a bit to the farmer that lives over the hill to see if he's got any pigs he'd like to sell. It's been a minute since I've been able to eat some roast." Pigs cost quite a bit - and he has to make it last. But this seems like a decent opportunity to get one butchered for him, if he can manage it.

But the question about the plans causes him to grin.

"Well. The farriers in town, when I last spoke to them, gave me a bit of a clue into some of the night life that tends to erupt closer to sundown. There's an inn not far from their working barn that has a basement where some of the more lively folk tend to gather. Workers, tradesmen, mainly. Occasionally, women, if they deign to grace the men with their presence. But not strictly necessary to enjoy a drink and a dance, unless you find them mutually exclusive to a good time."

Alastor shrugs. He can take them or leave them. He does not need to dance with a woman for it to be a good dance. A gaggle of drunken men can be just as entertaining.

"You can expect at least one fist fight before the night is out, I'm sure."

Hartfelt speaks from experience, clearly. A man who has seen a large handful of such places - hidden away in the dingier parts outside of the ton proper. Where the servants, the butlers, the footmen, the merchants, and the drunks all travel to indulge and forget their heavier woes of the day.

"But you will be with me the entire time," he reassures. Just in case such talk gives the other a fright. "I shall not let you out of my sight."

"Absolutely not; how could I have?" Simon answers, turning towards his friend with a grin. "You slept like a baby." A friendly imitation of soft snoring accompanies the young lord as he places the broom aside and closes the front door.

"Ah, yes. I suppose so," he says much less jokingly, "If I return home now, Mother may put me under lock and key so I don't run away again before the first meeting with Lady Heavensgate."

Madame Pendleton can be a determined woman, he has grown to realise.

Simon joins Alastor at the table, glad to sit after his slight chores. He cuts slices of bread for them both and spreads a thin layer of butter over them, stomach already grumbling. He thanks Alastor for the tea and digs in without further ado.

And immediately, anxiety tugs at his heart as he considers what his morning had been like if he had woken up at home.

A servant would have barged into his room if he had slept in. They would have opened the curtains, set down the clothes chosen the night before and reminded him of the day's schedule. His lessons, his meetings, the news. They would have ushered him to a bath already drawn and asked which of the salts he would prefer. They would straighten his jacket, they would button his sleeves. A breakfast would wait for him in the dining room, consisting of seven little plates when one would do. The apple he could eat as is would be cut into squares as if he couldn't chew. His cup would be replenished as soon as he set it down.

He would have been the baby in that case. A badly spoiled baby with little to no agency. Things he could so easily do himself, insisted to be done for him. So lavish, so pointless.

So suffocating.

"...I suppose I will have to do some laundry and wait for it to dry before we leave," he ponders, eyeing the muddy clothes he hung up the night before.

"As comfortable as your trousers are, they may slip off of me whilst we socialise. I think that would be too much even for your paper," he says, chuckling into his cup of tea. It is easy to fall back into a lighter mood while he is with Alastor. Simon sets his cup down and takes another bite of his bread.

"What sort of debauchery have you planned?" he asks curiously, knowing that only a few things surpass his friend's determination.

#sirserpentine #⨹ au: le bon ton ⨹

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theautumnriverleaves · 2 years ago

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#ah yes you are correct mother i am absolutely the bitch for saying that if the customer that i am meeting at 4:30 am #as a favor specifically for you #isn't there to pick up their catering order by 5:10 am you need to come switch out with me #how silly of me to forget #or to dare want to get some sleep before work #im so fucking sick of this shit #all the shit work shit family shit #like howd i get here #i was born dealing with this shit and no one seems to know how to teach me to stop dealing with this shit #also two big reasons I'm so pissed are #a) bc of her negligence we were both there until well passed 1am working on said order #b) literally last night I was literally crying to her about how my routine and rituals have been shattered #bc of half the state being out of power #and she goes and fucks up my ability to re regulate thru reestablishing them with this shit #and then says *thats uncalled for* when I tell her i absolutely am not going to do this song and dance tomorrow #and that tomorrow im getting back into my rhythm whether she has to stay at work until 1 am or not #explicitly me

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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

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Escort! Satoru- part one

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- eventually explicit sex, freaky but fluffy- this part- obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, mentions of sex, Satoru jerking off, whimpering (bc ofc) he becomes a little Yan tbh, Satoru half ass pleasing a client but he can't get you off his mind hehe, pretty woman vibes 🤭

Finished <3

Part two>>>

Escort! Satoru who doesn't just sleep with any client, no he's picky certainly, he gets to be at this caliber, of the most notorious escort there is. Some women he'll help get off with his fingers, some he'll only let suck his cock deep in their throat, some very lucky ones he'll actually fuck, bent over crying out his name. No matter what however, they were always pleased, he has the best rating there even is on his site.

Escort! Satoru only takes jobs and clients that he feels like, he's the most popular person on this app, highly requested, he can browse who he's meeting before hand. And if he absolutely can't stand them, perhaps that - gasp - hate Digimon!? - he keeps it to just the date, a polite fake smile on his perfect features, baby blues hidden behind his dark round shades.

Escort! Satoru gets a notification, lounging around in his penthouse, yes Gojo is rich from this career, but he enjoys the thrill of this even more, and he enjoys putting a smile on a pretty girls face, giving them pleasure when they may have never had any. His dick is just too pretty not to share with the world, truly. - That may seem conceited but it's really just factual! - He peers at the notification then, blinking quickly as the picture, so gorgeous he's damn near blushing just from seeing your face, your bare shoulders in a slinky dress, fuck since when does he get half hard looking at collarbones!?

Escort! Satoru is already throbbing and hard the longer he stares at your picture, your shy and sweet little message on there with it - 'I have never done anything like this... but with work, I have no time for anything, and... I really need a handsome date to this charity ball. Could you please come with, I will gladly pay you extra to spend some time before so we can have our story together' Satoru blinks a bit, full lips pursing, beginning to type back. 'You buying lunch?' He smirks as you laugh react to his comment. 'I'm buying lunch'

Escort! Satoru doesn't date in real life, he's merely arm candy for many women, but when he sits across from you at the outdoor diner, and you smile shyly, his heart fucking stops. He's been with so many beautiful people, but nothing has made him feel whatever this is. 'Hey there!' you introduce yourself, and he can't stop staring at your lips as they move, you have a pretty red color adorning them, he tries to focus but his brain is short circuiting. 'Satoru...' he says, taking your much smaller hand in his own, staring at you behind Gucci shades. He never lets dates call him that, he prefers Gojo of course, but when you repeat 'Satoru' in that sexy voice, he's ended.

Escort! Satoru forgets what time even is, while you pour over some details of your life with him, he's never been more interested actually in how you played the flute. Tell him it all. That you like Pokemon- Digimon is better but- close enough, tell him about your collection. He can't get enough, you all spend so much time talking the sun is starting to set. 'Oh no, we should go! I'm keeping you-' Satoru lowers those shades, his bright blue eyes drinking you in, making you falter as they trail across your body ever so slowly, making you heat up, remembering his profession. 'you're not keeping me, but one question, sweets' he leans forward, so close now, brushing back a lock of your hair. 'why would you go to an escort agency, is it just for the date? or more?'

Escort! Satoru loves watching the blush dance on your skin, the glittering of your eyes when he pulls back, thumb brushing your heated cheek just so, feeling it's warmth. 'It's just for the date, I read your reviews, they're insane...' he grins now, brushing back silvery locks. 'read which reviews?' you heat up further, fiddling with your fingers just a bit. 'If it went that way, it'd be the first time in years for me' Satoru blinks in shock. 'how?' You sigh, sipping the rest of your drink down through your straw. 'work plus being a homebody nerd, well... I never meet people or have time' ah, Satoru could make you cum so hard you wouldn't be able to form words, but he takes a sip of his own drink, saying casually- 'and you never... want to?'

Escort! Satoru thinks you're so cute when your teeth catch your lower lip, and your lashes flutter. 'of course but that's not why I hired you, I really do need a perfect date, though... your looks may have swayed me' he chuckles a bit now. 'So shallow!' you scoff, as the two of you get ready to leave. 'Do you have a suit or do you need me to buy one?' Gojo smirks at you. 'I have so many suits, and tuxedos, don't worry' 'ah you come prepared I see' he hums just a bit, walking you to your car, far too close when he leans over you just a bit, inhaling the sweet scent of you. 'I'm prepared for whatever you need, sweets, anything at all' at his connotation he watches you get more flustered, giggling a bit, feeling so stupid next to a guy like this, but he just finds you the cutest thing he's ever seen.

Escort! Satoru can't take how much you're sinking into his mind the passing days, the charity ball is in a week, but the two of you constantly text for 'practice' but he becomes more and more enamored, you're smart, sweet, and oh so fucking pretty. When you send him a selfie before he goes on a date with a client, he can hardly take it, you're in your business suit, nothing sexy- but it drives him to distraction, your pretty lips he can picture around him. Satoru can hardly focus when he's supposed to be pleasing this girl, his fingers usually so sure aren't hitting her spots, because now he can only think of you.

Escort! Satoru cannot have a bad review, oh no, he decides to excuse himself from the pretty girl on her bed, going to the bathroom to stare at this picture of you. beautiful, can I see more? when you read that you nervously shut the door to your sky rise office, unbuttoning just a bit of your blouse, tummy clenching when he hearts the message, you know you shouldn't get so excited, you're paying him after all. He's likely with a woman constantly, you see the sheer amount of reviews, but you can't help yourself, you find him entirely too charming, it's easy to forget this is just for business. For every salacious review, there were others- sweet, funny, made me feel pretty- and that's what really drew you in.

Escort! Satoru after he recieves that sexy little picture, instead of going into the room with the eager girl waiting, is instead stroking his long, pretty cock, head falling back against the door, while you nervously button your blouse back up, imagination going insane. You weren't against sleeping with someone casually, but for money would it mean... he didn't want to? The thought eats at you while Satoru's dripping precum over his phone, right on that picture, whispering your name ever so softly, forgetting where he was and shit, who he was, he can practically see those nipples under your blouse, dying to know what they taste like.

Escort! Satoru may have had sex before with the client surely, he loves a beautiful woman, before he met you. But now you're constantly on his mind. Even with his cock so hard and ready, when he's back to kissing on her and playing with her, he can't do more, frustrating him to no end. He has her squirting down his hand with the way his practiced fingers know how to hit every woman's spot, she's dripping down to his wrists, even. When he finishes, she looks up at him, all fucked out, trying to kiss him, but that's Satoru's biggest rule, never, ever kiss on the lips. He turns his head. 'sorry sweetheart I don't do that'

Escort! Satoru takes his extra money, he made bank tonight, but the entire time he had his fingers curling inside a slick, eager hole, he was picturing them deep inside you, watching as you cum for him. You'd probably sound and look so pretty, wouldn't you? As you're shooting him a good night text- who even has ever sent him one? - you're back on his mind, still aching from earlier. Turning down blowjobs is not something Escort Satoru does, but he did, and now he's throbbing when he rubs himself over his boxers, whimpering just a bit, pulling the picture back out and working his hand up and down his shaft, as it's aching to fill you

Escort! Satoru has a notification from one of his regulars pop up on the phone, right above that picture he can't stop staring at, while his cock is sticky from his spit and precum, loud in his opulent bedroom, the sound of it lewd along with his heavy, husky breaths. He's picturing just what you'd look like on your knees, with those innocent eyes, maybe he'd tear that business suit off your body, and paint every pretty inch of it with his ropes of cum, until you were just covered in white. The thought alone makes him decline the request, shutting his eyes and picturing just that as his spurts of white cum pour down his hand.

Escort! Satoru whimpers when he touches his sensitive tip, murmuring your name, trying to come down. He finds himself cleaning himself up and staring at the mirror, wondering just what the fuck you've done to him already. Surely it's... something new or different, it can't be more right? He hovers over choosing the date, or messaging you good night, and finds himself texting you with a dumb little 🥺, smiling like a lovesick fool when you send this to him-'can't wait for our 'date' it'll be fun! 😍- and Satoru's getting hard again from a fucking emoji.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru smut #satoru gojo x female reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo x f!reader #gojo drabbles #satoru gojo x f!reader #divider by strangergraphics #jjk smut #yandere gojo #just a bit #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n

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mggslover · 3 months ago

Note

learning sign language so you can make inappropriate comments to spencer while at work and you sign “want to suck your cock” and spencer just looks at you all bewildered like “since when did you know ASL?”

dirty talking to spencer in ASL genre: sfw with sexual innuendos word count: 1,8k a/n: a lil something while i'm working on kinkfest :)

Spencer Reid is a man of many talents. People say — well, specifically, Spencer once told you that learning a new skill is easiest around the age of ten and how the process will be more difficult once you reach the age of eighteen. Something about neural connections forming rapidly, the unconscious system, the critical period… To be honest, you lost your focus the moment he mentioned the new skill he’d learned: sign language.

Spencer was excited to tell you about this new skill. He already knew a handful of languages, from Russian to Yoruba, but what appealed to him most about ASL was the hand motions. How he didn’t need to pronounce any of the words. You still chuckle to yourself when the memory of him pronouncing a Spanish sentence pops up in your head. How vividly you could picture Elle correcting him. There was nothing funny about him using ASL, though. In fact, you remember the way your throat tightened and your cheeks heated when his hands started moving — long fingers, decorated in veins, flexing into different symbols at a speed that other beginners would envy.

“That means ‘I love you, and that sweater looks pretty on you’.”

You had laughed. Had leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you,” you replied. A hot pink flush made its way onto his face, a shy smile tugging on his lips.

“Does this mean you’ll be speaking to me in sign now?”

Your comment was meant as mere teasing, but Spencer had taken it as a challenge. He’d made sure to at least communicate a couple of ASL sentences to you every day. You could imagine it being a good way of practice for him. For the both of you, actually. Because over time you started to recognize some of the movements. A sign you had mistaken as rock and roll before, you had now concluded meant I love you. A swipe of his hand over his face? Pretty. There were a few others you could recognize, but as the sentences grew longer and his signs faster, you gave up.

You had always assumed everything Spencer signed to you was something sweet. You’d smile, kiss him as a thank you, and forget about it, assuming he was complimenting you. That was until Derek caught Spencer in the act, signing something to you before the elevator doors closed in front of him, ready to head over to the lab for another case you were on.

“My man,” Derek chuckled heartily, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Your brows furrowed, the smile that had lingered on your face moments before dropping instantly. “What?”

He kept laughing, not noticing the clear confusion you were in.

“Derek!” you said, giving a soft punch to his arm to catch his attention.

“Oh, you don’t-” He raised an eyebrow, pointing to you and the closed elevator doors before laughing even harder.

“Stop it!” You cried, getting embarrassed by the scene you were causing in the middle of the bullpen. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, pretty girl,” he started, taking a deep breath to recover, still grinning widely. “Pretty Boy over there should be getting the title of Dirty Boy from now on.”

Your mouth opened, then quickly closed when no words came out. “I don’t understand.”

Derek looked around the bullpen, finding no one near. Still, he leaned in, shielding his mouth with his hand as he recited Spencer’s words to you.

You gasp, hand clutching your chest dramatically as if starring in a soap opera. “He didn’t,” you say in full disbelief.

“Oh, yes he did,” Morgan smirked in full pride.

“How would you even know that?”

“My buddy works at a youth center. I teach the kids football from time to time. Some speak ASL.”

You scoff. “Kids have taught you these words?”

Derek shrugs. “What can I say? It’s the dirty words that are most fun to learn.”

-`♡´-

You had struggled to think of anything else after that encounter, your mind wandering to every possible naughty sentence when Spencer signed to you from then on. It was frustrating, really, how he must be gleaming knowing you had no clue what he was saying. As long as he knows that you’re also up for a challenge.

After work that day, you told Spencer you’d be home later, having to pick something up from a friend’s house. It wasn’t completely a lie — you had to pick something up, just from a different location. You parked your car in the parking lot in front of the public library, feeling like a criminal as you knocked on the glass doors. A woman in her late sixties greeted you, her kind beady eyes framed by thin glasses that hung low on her nose.

“You’re the one who called? From the FBI?”

You nodded, smiling. “Hi, yes, that’s me. I am so sorry to be bothering you at this hour, but we’ve got a killer on the loose, and it’s very urgent.”

The older woman cringed at the mention of a killer, muttering some words under her breath, and turned to grab an entire stack of books. You reached your hands out, accepting the heavy weight of the books, the title A Beginner’s Guide to ASL written on the top one.

Her hand trembled lightly as she tapped the front cover. “This one comes with a DVD.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you for your help.”

“You better catch that bastard!” You nodded confidently in response as you turned on your heel.

-`♡´-

Unfortunately, Spencer was right: learning a new language as an adult was far from easy. Especially with the lack of time you had because of working a demanding job. You had to make do with the rare free weekends and some late nights during the week to study as much as possible.

You were tucked underneath a blanket on the couch, laptop in your lap, as you were watching a YouTube video Derek had recommended: “Sign Dirty to Me: A Guide to Dirty Talk in Sign Language”.”

“The next sentence we’ll be learning is ‘I want to give you a blowjob’.”

“A what?”

You screeched, lifting yourself up on the couch at a speed that made the laptop fall on the ground with a thud. You mutter a string of curses as the video continues playing, using your foot to stomp the laptop shut.

��Jesus, Spencer, can’t you knock?”

You turn your body, spotting your boyfriend's tall figure leaning against the open bedroom door, an amused smile lingering on his lips. “I think you’ve forgotten that you’re in my house.”

You groan at his smug grin, trying to find an excuse.

“What were you watching anyway?” He asks in curiosity before you could explain.

“Nothing!”

He takes a stride toward you, and you scramble from the couch to grab the laptop, holding it tight in your arms as a safety measure. Spencer leans on the plush frame of the couch, appearing rather relaxed as a gleam sparkles in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you were watching-”

“No!” You exclaim in offense.

“I wouldn’t mind it if you were.”

“I was not watching anything.”

The content look doesn’t fade from his face. He looks rather pleased by the scene you’re making. The tips of his fingers brush against the bare skin of your arm. Those damn fingers. “I don’t mind, angel. I would just offer you my help instead.”

You swallowed. He was distracting you, and you were not going to fall for his dirty ploys yet again. No way.

“I’m good,” you squeak, hurriedly standing up from the couch. You point at him while your other hand clutches your laptop. “I will go to the bedroom now, and you will stay here. Don’t even think about moving an inch.”

Your words were only making you sound more suspicious, but you didn’t care. It would be worth it in the end.

-`♡´-

Two weeks had passed since you and Derek had exposed Spencer’s dirty, little secret. Two weeks in which you had spent all your free time learning ASL. You had been nervous all morning while getting ready for work, trying to resist the urge to sign something to him. But you wanted to do it in the bullpen; you needed to see him get flustered in a crowd.

Your fingers had been nervously tapping on your desk, eyeing Spencer at his desk opposite yours. You were waiting on Derek, who you had promised could be there for the “big moment”.

“Where are we going?” Penelope’s voice sounded through the bullpen as Derek grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the desks. You throw your hands up in frustration, it wasn’t the plan to make it that big of a show. “Are you kidding me?” You mouth toward Derek.

“Now,” he mouths back as he stays at a safe distance against the far wall.

Here we go.

A single kick to Spencer’s shin was enough to grab his attention. “Ouch! What did you do that for?”

Biting down on your lip to hide your smile, you began moving your fingers, a little exaggeratedly, to make sure he understood.

Look what new skill I learned.

Spencer beams, smiling brightly as the realization dawns upon him. “Hey! Since when did you know ASL?”

You don’t give him an answer right away, not wanting to get out of your flow, so you continue signing the variety of sentences you’ve learned, each one even dirtier than the last.

You knew you were doing a good job when a few snorts came from your right at certain words, Derek understanding what you were saying. Looking at Spencer confirmed it — his eyes stood wide open, red blotches of heat forming on his neck as his lips moved in a struggle to find the words.

Stop it. Right now. He eventually signed.

You grin, pride washing over you as you can understand him. This new method of communication truly opens up worlds.

But I mean it. You sign back.

He hides the small smile that forms on his face, tugging away a piece of hair before finding the courage to respond back to you.

What else would you like to do, then?

Penelope nudged Derek, looking puzzled. “What are they doing? Are they…? Oh my god, they’re trying to get in each other’s pants? Right in front of us?!”

Derek threw his head back laughing. “That’s right. They’re not so innocent anymore, huh?”

“But dirty talk is our thing!” Penelope protested.

Derek shakes his head. “I hate to break it to you, baby girl, but they’re outdoing us.”

#loverrequests #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months ago

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I found and read this cute story on AO3, about Frostbite being Danny's legal parental guardian. In the story Bruce Wayne runs into Frostbite (in his full yeti glory no disguise) who is setting up for school bake sale. Got me thinking about what if Danny's past rogues took turns filling in and doing parental stuff especially at school functions. Like Frostbite does the bake sale, Pandora shows up for his games, Ghostwriter goes to all of the PTA meetings, Clockwork goes to teacher meetings, so on and so forth.

The 43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale by Faeriekit

Ohhh, that sounds good! I'll get it a read when I have some time. Thank you for the rec!

Danny Fenton is one of the lucky few who have a very involved household. His various family members would always sign up for any school event the boy needed support in. It didn't mean that the boy won everything, but as a teacher for nine years, Emily has come to learn how much it mattered to just have someone show up.

She had seen students whose entire faces light up after spotting someone in the crowd in the same amount she saw a student's hope crumble after they scanned the room.

Danny was a polite young man, a bit on the shyer side, but kind and not a troublemaker, his previous school had her believe. If anything, he seemed to struggle with fitting in, but no students blatantly disliked him.

The general opinion of Danny matched, as her students would say, "I know him from class, but I don't really talk to him. He seems cool though".

Maybe that's why so many people were supposed by his family to march into the auditorium during Danny's talent show. Seeing him wave at the row before starting his gymnastic act had been such a surprise.

Now, Gotham wasn't a close-knit community, not with the size of their city and the millions of people living within it, but everyone would have noticed that Danny was adopted.

After all, he was the only one that wasn't glowing or a large humanoid animal. They cheered the loudest among the crowd; uncaring Danny got bronze- having lost to Joey's tapping dancing for second and Damian's spectacular multi-instrumental cover of a meme song for first place- and Danny beamed back at them.

Gotham was known for not being meta-friendly, but that was only due to a few mean people who shouted the loudest on media outlets. Many of Emily's students were meta, had family that were meta, or knew someone meta. It wasn't a common enough trait one would encounter a meta on every outing, but you would see them in Gotham well enough.

Everyone knew, but no one said it out loud. In the same way, she knew which students' parents were in the country illegally but worked harder than anyone else. Saying anything would help the cops, or worse, the rich running Gotham.

Even the most prejudiced Gothamite would rather be spat on then give them aid. And those who were so prejudiced to help the poor man's enemies, well, Emily has lived here long enough to know they vanished rather quickly. The smart ones kept their mouths shut.

No one could forget what happened to that guy who accidentally insulted Penguin. His grandmother had been an illegal immigrant on his mother's side.

No one messed with that side of the family.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson." Danny's adoptive father, Dr. Frostbite said, ducking down to avoid banging his head on the door. On one of his shoulders was a box of hotdog wieners; on the other were multiple bags of bread. "I'm here for my snack bar shift."

Emily tilts her head back to look the Yeti in the eye. He had been shocked the first time they met, but she could admit that Dr. Frostbite was a relatively gentle and wise soul. "Welcome aboard. The girls are just about to take the field. You can put that down by the crock pot over there."

The mountain of white fur brushes by her with the grace of a king as Dr. Frostbite does as she says. There were no customers at the window, so she leaned on the counter and offered him a smile. "Did you enjoy the game?"

"Yes. I was saddened our team did not win, but Danny hit a home run." Dr. Frostbite's sharp smile could have been frightening if he wasn't oozing parental pride. "I caught it all on video."

Emily opens her mouth to respond when a hand lands loudly on the counter with a loud crack. Her heart leaps, and she looks into Danny's Ember. She isn't one of Emily's students, though she does appear to be a teenager in appearance.

You know. If it wasn't for her hair made of fire. Or her blue skin. Or her glow.

"I set a boy on fire," She announces with a cackle.

"That's so?" Dr. Frostbite gently rips open the box, taking out the hotdog packages. With one large claw, he rips a hole into it and lets the few weiners slide into the crockpot with a gentle splash. "What did he do?"

"Tried to slap me on the butt." She huffs, rolling her eyes, but her smirk doesn't lose an edge of smugness.

"Well done." Dr. Frostbite praises placing the lid back on. It always surprised Emily to see such careful actions from the large creature. "I assume you did so out of Pandora's line of sight?"

"Naturally. I don't want her lecturing me in front of the whole community." Ember scoffs, crossing her arms. Behind her, the top of Pandora's head can be seen swinging side to side over the dugout, keeping an eye on the ball.

She was the best volunteer referee because even the parents knew not to shout insulting things when she was present. Emily doesn't think she has had such peaceful games in a long while. Hopefully, Danny will try out again for baseball next year so the woman can return.

"Oh hey, you're Danny's English teacher, right? Mrs. Johnson?" Ember asks, leaning on the counter to give Emily a curious look.

When the blond nods, holding out her hand for a shake. "That's right. It's nice to see you again, Ember."

The girl's hair flairs a little as a grin grows on her face. Her hand is ice cold to the touch, but she's got a firm grip that her husband would appreciate. "Likewise. I got a message for you from Ghostwriter. He sent the notes for the last PTA meeting to you and the revision playwright for the musical you two were working on."

Emily's mood brightens up. "That's wonderful. Could you tell him I'll check it out when I get home and get to my laptop since my phone broke in the last Two-Face attack?"

Ember's hair flickers in the wind when she nods, but Danny bounces right up behind her just as she opens her mouth to speak. He's wearing his Gotham Acadamy Baseball uniform with pride despite them losing. "Hey, Frostbite, can I go with Tim and Duke to get Peoeria Pizza? We'll be back before the girl's game ends."

"Only if you take Ember with you," Dr.Frostbite says, nodding to his daughter, who looks alarmed to be included. "She needs more friends."

"Hey!"

"Sure. Come on, Ember, you'll get along with Duke. He likes old-school rock."

"It's not old-school!"

Emily laughs, watching the two siblings bicker as they stride away, blending into the crowd with no one batting an eye at the glowing girl anymore. How blessed that boy was.

"I'm glad Danny has gotten comfortable here. I always worried he never was going to have a normal childhood." Dr. Frostbite confesses to swirling the hotdogs around in the water to ensure each one is cooked.

"I think you and the rest are doing a wonderful job. You're a great father." She assures him, thinking wistfully of her William. He's been on deployment for a few months now and will likely miss the holidays again, but his contract is almost up. They may try for a child when he gets in the reserves. "How are things at the clinic?"

"Oh, wonderful. I'm grateful that Mr. Wayne has allowed the expansion of Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic. Dr. Thompkins will be covering the east side of Gotham while I help those on the west. It's much more fulfilling than working in some hospital that demands funds for the silliest things. Back home, that would have been illegal. The people would have burned me at the stake if I had allowed anyone to pass away due to greed."

"My kind of people." She laughs. A sharp crack sounds from the field as the bat makes contact with the ball, and the crowd goes wild. It's a wonderful day.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #New Neighbors #Part 1 #Danny and his ghosts move to Gotham.#Oc's pov #Frostbite adopts Danny #The rest of the ghosts just tagged along for fun.#Bruce hired the VERY knoweldgable doctor for the second free clinic. So what it's a yeti?

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mediocre-writing · 5 months ago

Text

Fic recs Yoongi

Some fics I read this week, and I need to make people read them too lol I'll probably do it with the other members too.

Interlude | MYG | Series Masterlist @yoongiofmine (Idol!Yoongi X Deaf!Reader)

Summary: All Yoongi wanted was to use the last few months before enlisting to work on his solo projects, prepare for his tour. When the silence left around him as his members started to go one by one got too loud, he needed to find something else to fill in the void. But Yoongi would never have guessed that it would come in the form of you… Someone he would never expect to fall in love with.

– This is simply the most beautiful Yoongi series I've ever read.

——

The Consequences of Fucking Up @borathae

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”

– You won't regret reading it, trust me.

——

his entire world | min yoongi x f!reader | a serendipitous life series @serendipitous-seven

summary: you and yoongi are trying to enjoy your friends' wedding with a very fussy baby

– THIS WAS ONE OF THE SOFTEST THINGS I'VE EVER READ 😭💞

——

F*ck Tradition | Yoongi @dancinglikebutterflywings ( Min Yoongi x Fiancee!Reader)

- Synopsis: Y/N takes Yoongi with her to go wedding dress shopping because her fiancées opinion is the only one that matters.

– I feel like this story and this writer deserves much more recognition, MY GOD IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL.

—

you're okay | myg (m) @taegularities

Summary: Let it hurt and burn. Let it out; and then let it fade away. Let it heal. Yoongi can't lift all your burdens, but he has taught you at least this much over the years.

– This here comforted my heart in a way 😭😭💞💞

—

ex-things - m.yg. @namfinessed

summary: over the years, everything you've owned has belonged to yoongi and everything yoongi's owned has belonged to you but when you break up, everything is your's and everything is his but none of it belongs to the two of you anymore and both of you can't stand it.

– That was adorable and made me smile like a fool.

—

impression | yg @namjoonchronicles

↳ summary many forgot that when you marry someone, you marry their family too, at least that’s how Asian family is like

– This is so cute, I love the husband!Yoongi

—

The Final - Day 02 | MYG | ONESHOT @yoongiofmine

Summary: You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

– it made me wild and crazy

—

dissertation | yg @namjoonchronicles

↳ summary many people doubted your union, how exactly an artist with as much influence as yoongi be a husband to a wife that is still studying.

– Yoon being the person we all need, This writer is wonderful, please give him a chance. (I'm telling you this writer is amazing)

—

Shy - Yoongi X Reader @7ndipity

Summary: You’re desperately craving your boyfriend's attention, but are too shy to ask for it outright. Luckily, Yoongi knows what you want anyway.

– This is something cute and warm.

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YES, I WILL DO MORE BECAUSE WE HAVE MANY TALENTED WRITERS.

#yoongi x you #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi #fanfic #fic rec #fic recs #yoongi recs #suga fic #bts recs #bts fic #bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader

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amberlynnmurdock · 2 months ago

Text

The First Time

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader

Genre: FLUFF, angst, SMUTTTT 18+!!!!

Summary: Dex and his neighbor become good friends, so much so she only trusts him to take her virginity.

Based off this anon message

Note: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT HERE IT IS I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE IT

She’s the purest thing he’s ever known, and she lives right down the hall from him. Dex liked to keep his space neat and tidy; it was never dirty or out of order. He never allowed anyone into his space. Dex valued his privacy and, even more so, his alone time, despite feeling the lows of such often. Everything was a routine he had to strictly follow: wake up, shower, get ready for work, work, come home, be alone.

She ended up fitting into his routine, somehow. Only someone as pure and kind as she could find her way into Dex’s space--and so easily, too. She had recently graduated from New York University with a degree in forensic science and was living alone for the first time.

He’ll never forget when she started talking to him in the elevator, one rainy evening.

“What floor?” He asked her.

“6,” she replied. It was the same as his. Dex clicked the elevator button.

“You work for the FBI?” She couldn’t help but notice the large letters on the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. Dex typically took it off before going out in public, but that day’s mission had exhausted him so much, he forgot to.

“Yes,” Dex answered and shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to friendly conversation with strangers. It was natural for him to have his guard up.

“That’s cool,” she sighed. “I just graduated from NYU last year. I got a job at the 15th Precinct in their forensics department, but working for the FBI is a dream of mine. Do you like it?”

“It’s tough,” Dex said. “It pays the bills.”

The elevator dinged. If he weren’t on the same floor as her, he’d be happy. He let her exit the elevator first and trailed slowly behind her. She waited for him so they could walk in tandem. He sighed, realizing he had no escape.

“Do you mind if I come by sometime and ask you questions about your job? I’m new to the area—new to living here, and I’d like to know that I have a personal FBI agent to call a neighbor and—friend,” she smiled at him. Dex squinted his eyes slightly, amused by her outgoing personality and interest in his job. He wasn’t particularly a fan of being put on the spot like this, but seeing the way she looked so hopeful at him—who was he to say no?

“Sure.”

And that’s how she ended up sitting across from him at his kitchen table, notebook on her right side, a cup of decaf coffee on her left. It had been like this for a year now—like clockwork, she was at his door at 11 PM, sometimes even later (depending on when he came home from work) to talk about his day and ask questions about anything related to his job. Dex grew to look forward to these late-night conversations with her—it was oddly reminiscent of his meetings with Dr. Mercer.

Now, he knew these weren’t therapy sessions, and if anything, he was the one giving her advice and information, but it was comforting to talk to her about his day. He found comfort in explaining his job duties and answering any curiosities she had. She was kind, probably the kindest thing in his life right now, and he needed that. He found it harder to sleep if she didn’t come by and spend an hour with him talking about his job.

“Wow,” she breathed. “So when you guys detain whoever you need to, how soon does forensics show up to the scene?”

“They’re already on their way before we even lock the handcuffs,” Dex said. He watched as she scribbled something in her notebook. He only recently noticed how attracted he was to her—he only ever saw her at night, and she was always, more often than not, in her pajamas. He started to take notice of her rotation. Last week, she had light pink polka dot ones on. Tonight, she’s in a plain light blue set. Next was probably her black silk ones. It was always in her natural state that he saw her. No makeup, disheveled hair. Friendly smile. Curious and his favorite part, attentive, eyes.

He rarely ever saw her during the day. He was up at the crack of dawn going to the headquarters, and she was always in three hours later. She always came home before him, and when she’d hear Dex’s familiar knock on her door, she knew he was ready for their nightly catch-up.

Neighbors catching up…friends, like she said one time. That’s what they were, Dex supposed.

He didn’t think of this as an almost every night thing. After the first few nights, he let her into his apartment, Dex thought it was a done deal. On the fifth night, just as he was about to get in bed, he heard a knock at his door.

“I brought ice cream,” she was holding two tubs of Ben and Jerry’s in her hands, and squeezing her notebook under her arm. “Mint chocolate cookie or strawberry cheesecake.”

Dex grabbed the mint chocolate cookie from her grasp and let her inside with a tired smile.

He had also grown a bit protective over her as her neighbor.

He remembered one time he got home from work at 10:30 PM—earlier than usual. He knocked on her door three times—it was his signal that he was ready and home—but there was no answer on the other side of the door. Dex pressed his ear against it and listened for any movement or sound. Nothing. He checked his watch and saw it was nearly 11:00 PM. It wasn’t like her to not be home already.

He pulled out his phone and called her. It immediately went to voicemail.

Dex clicked his phone off and rested it on his lips. The increasing heaviness in his chest was something he only felt when he was on missions—he was anxious. Is she okay?

Something inside of him locked, or maybe, unlocked at the thought of her never coming home. The thought of her never sitting across from him at his kitchen table ever again. It unlocked a feeling he kept hidden away as best as he could, despite it being the most constant thing in his life. Feeling abandoned—left behind. Alone.

For the first time in his life, Dex didn’t want to be alone.

Dex was too numb to go back into his apartment. He pressed his back against the wall of the hallway and slid down to sit on the floor. He decided he would wait there until she came home.

After an hour of staring into nothing, but mentally replaying all the times he’s had someone leave him, the elevator doors dinged. Dex was too tired to look at who it was, too afraid of disappointment if it wasn’t her. He kept his eyes forward.

“Dex?” She started walking faster towards him. “Are you okay?” Dex whipped his head up and immediately stood up on his feet.

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, his voice feeling thick and dry. “I was—worried. About you. Your phone…”

“It died,” she explained. “And I forgot my charger. I ended up staying late to finish up some work. You waited for me here?” She asked with a hint of a smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, meeting her eyes finally. She still looked as wide awake as ever, full of energy and positivity he wished he could emulate. Something compelled him to wrap his arms around her and bring her close in an embrace—so he did. He sighed in relief. “Don’t forget your charger again,” he said in her hair.

“I won’t,” she pulled back, suddenly catching on to the seriousness of his tone. “Rough day? Is it too late to talk in your apartment?”

“Not if it’s too late for you.”

It was strange, the effect she had on him. It only grew more intense after each night together. Dex watched her carefully now, across from his table. He couldn’t remember the lat time he let someone get close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to connect with someone since Dr. Mercer passed away. It was the first time he possibly found a new North Star. He hoped this one wouldn’t go out.

She brought a warmth to his apartment that it was lacking before. He never spent time at the kitchen table unless it was the morning and he was having his coffee before work. He never thought he’d spend most of his nights here, with her, talking about his day and duties as an FBI agent. She was part of his routine now. And if there’s anything about Dex, it’s that he doesn’t like when his routine is disrupted.

“Can I ask you something we haven’t talked about before?” She looked up from her notebook and placed her pen down on the table. Dex shrugged his shoulders. There wasn’t much he wouldn’ttell her at this point.

“Anything,” he said.

“Have you ever had to kill someone?”

It took a lot to catch Dex off guard. But this was a question he wasn’t expecting to be asked so blatantly.

“In the line of duty, obviously,” she followed up quickly, responding to his reaction.

Dex held her gaze—he didn’t want his answer to drive her away. In case it did, he wanted to memorize the way she was looking at him right now. The hopeful curiosity. The kindness without judgement in her eyes. He broke eye contact and sighed.

“Yes,” Dex said, rearranging the napkin holder in front of him.

“Because you had no choice?”

“Yes,” he lied.

She shook her head. Not in disapproval, but in disbelief. “I can’t imagine that. Do you—do you remember the first time you had to?”

Dex does remember his first time killing someone. But it wasn’t in the line of duty as an FBI agent. It wasn’t even when he served time in the army.

It was when he was a child and had dreams of becoming a baseball star. The memory flashed in Dex’s mind as quickly as the baseball ricocheted off the fence and hit Coach NAME in the head.

“I do,” Dex said. “It was a cartel member. We had the group where we wanted them, but one guy wouldn’t give up the fight. He grabbed for a weapon to shoot at my partner—Nadeem—but I got to him before he could do anything more.”

“And by got to him, you mean…”

“Mmhm,” Dex hummed. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I know it’s not easy work. I know these things have to happen. But I wonder, are you okay? Knowing that that happened? And what you had to do?”

“I’m okay,” Dex said, and he wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. “It was either him or Nadeem. They train you to think fast in those situations. You can’t waste time.”

“I’m really glad I chose the science side of it all.” She leaned back in his chair, and he liked how she made it look so casual. He wanted to mirror her but didn’t. “I don’t know if I could handle it like you do.”

“We make the mess,” Dex said, leaning forward. “Your side cleans it up.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” she replied. “Accurate.”

Dex sipped his coffee. “Anything else you’d like to know, Ms. Forensics?”

She smiled at the nickname. “I guess… out of personal curiosity… what did it feel like? Taking a life like that? Even if the guy was bad.”

Dex twisted the mug in his hands. Truthfully, it made no difference to him. But what would she want to hear?

“It’s hard,” Dex said. “Really hard. But these situations aren’t black and white. We have a job to do. We have to protect people. Protect our own. That’s what matters at the end of the day.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head. “Do you have counselors at work you can talk to?”

“We have to undergo a psych-eval every once in a while.”

“That’s good,” she pressed her lips together. “Well, if the counselors aren’t always there for you, just know that I am, Dex.”

And there it was—that sweetness he had become so accustomed to. He couldn’t imagine his nights without it now. Dex smiled a little and focused his gaze on the table.

“It’s late,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I think I’ve run you dry for tonight. Got any plans this weekend?” She asked him this all the time, and Dex always had the same answer for her.

“No,” he said. “Catching up on sleep, maybe.”

“Me too,” she began to close her notebook and collect her pens, to Dex’s disappointment.

“You can come by tomorrow night,” Dex said with hope in his voice. “If you’re not busy and you feel like talking.”

She smiled a little and nodded her head. “I’d like that. Maybe instead of me asking about work, we can just hang?”

Dex took her empty coffee mug and wiped a coffee stain with the pad of his thumb. Her question echoed in his head.

“I’d like that,” he answered, meeting her tired eyes. “Maybe I can ask about your life and work for once.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be getting much,” she laughed, and Dex hoped she was kidding. “But I’ll do my best to highlight the interesting parts.” She began her walk to his door, notebook in her hand. Dex unlocked it from behind her, gently brushing his arm against hers by mistake. He took a step back to give her space.

“Good night, Dex,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Good night,” he softly said back. He watched her as she walked halfway down the hall to her apartment. He always waited until she was inside and locked the door before going back and retreating to his bedroom. When she was, he closed his door and locked it. He was alone again.

◎◎◎

Dex wasn’t worried about having her over until the reality finally settled in and he realized that she would be coming over in a different context than usual. He couldn’t remember the last time he hosted something for someone and had food ready—this was possibly his first time ever. When he came home, early for a Friday night, he checked his fridge to see if he had any snacks and felt silly for it—of course, he had nothing, except a carton of milk and some eggs.

He went back out to the corner store and paused in the middle of the aisle. What did she like to eat? He only remembered the time she brought ice cream to his place. He went to the freezer and grabbed the same flavors of Ben and Jerry’s she had once brought: mint chocolate cookie and strawberry cheesecake. Dex balanced the two cartons in his hands and went through the chips aisle. He wasn’t sure what to get, and the options were overwhelming. He settled on a jar of salsa, French onion and guacamole—that way, she’d have more than one option. He also grabbed two kinds of chips: salted and hint of lime. He also threw in a container of chocolate chip cookies.

After leaving the store, he realized that she may be interested in drinking something. He wasn’t a drinker at all—alcohol didn’t mix well with his medication—so he didn’t have a clue of what she may like. Wine? Beer? He found himself inside the liquor store, even more overwhelmed by the options. When was the last time he was in a place like this?

He grabbed one bottle of red wine (Pinot Noir), one bottle of white wine (Sauvignon Blanc), and one bottle of rose for good measure. At the counter, he saw a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and grabbed it.

Dex had his hands full on his way back to his apartment. He’d never had this much food in his house—the bags practically filled his counter. He laid every snack out but paused midway—they wouldn’t be sitting at his kitchen table. Maybe on the couch? Dex began to move all the snacks to the coffee table. He placed each dip in a bowl and had two more bowls filled with each type of chip he bought. He left the ice cream in the freezer. He put the chocolate-covered pretzels in a smaller bowl.

Then, he put each bottle of wine on the counter so that when she first walked in, she could choose. Dex finally sat down on his couch and checked the time. It was almost 10 PM. She should be home soon.

◎◎◎

His apartment felt cold and dark until she finally graced it with her presence. She was in her black silk pajamas, as Dex correctly predicted was next in her rotation. When she first walked inside Dex’s apartment and saw the line up of wine and snacks, she couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it all was, especially the hopeful look on Dex’s face as he watched her take it all in.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Dex said, scratching his neck. “So I got a bit of everything.”

“It’s okay,” she looked at him, this well-trained and tough FBI agent who looked like he spent the last hour stressing over salted or hint of lime chips and ended up getting both. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

Dex sighed in relief. “I also got different wines you can choose from.”

She looked at each bottle. She was naturally inclined to reach for the red. But she wanted to make sure Dex had a say in the matter, too. “Which do you prefer?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “Oh, I don’t drink. I got that for you. All of it’s for you.”

“Well, if you’re not drinking, then I’m not either,” she said smiling. “I do want to dig into those chocolate-covered pretzels, though.”

“They’re for you,” Dex said.

She walked over to his couch, but Dex stayed standing by his kitchen table. He didn’t take a moment before to take in how different his apartment looked whenever she was in it. Before, everything looked as tidy as it needed to be: empty coffee table, couch lacking warmth, unused empty bowls. But she graced his apartment with her presence by making it feel comfortable. A couch is meant to be sat on, a coffee table meant to have snacks, and bowls meant to have food—just for her. He’s never seen his place so lively and it’s all because of her.

It was like watching a science experiment in real time. The cause and effect. The hypothesis and results. Except, he felt in the thick of the experiment and the results could be a wild card. He was just happy to witness it happening. How she was so good at making it all feel so comfortable. He liked having her around. Dex wanted her to stay a while.

“Well don’t be shy, Dex,” she patted the seat next to her on his couch. “Come stay a while.”

Dex laughed and made his way to his couch. He felt like a stranger in his own house. How should he delicately handle this new context of hanging out? He was used to her having a notebook and her doing the talking. He felt the pressure and was afraid he wouldn’t live up to expectations.

He sat down next to her—not too close. A comfortable distance. He reached for a salted chip and dipped in the guacamole first. During training, they taught agents to start conversations with witnesses or suspects casually. He felt he could apply those tactics here, with her.

“So,” Dex began, chewing his chip of guacamole, “first thing’s first. How was your day at work?”

Dex didn't know he had it in him, to curate and carry a conversation as long as he did with her. He asked her things about her life he didn’t know before—how she got into forensic science, where she’s from, who she used to be. She’s only 22—she’s got her whole life ahead of her, and she’s only getting started.

When she revealed her age, Dex was slightly taken aback. The thought never crossed his mind but now that he knew she was a bit younger than him, he felt that sense of protection he had over her grow in size. All those times she had come home late, he never knew she was vulnerable like that. Maybe it was wrong to think that way… she’s independent and lives on her own. She can take care of herself. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Still, he had to know something.

“My age… you’re not uncomfortable?” Dex asked in a small voice, avoiding eye contact.

“No,” she shook her head. “Not unless you are.”

“I’m not,” Dex answered quickly. “It never crossed my mind to ask how old you were. I didn’t think there was that much of a difference.”

“Seven years is nothing,” she shrugged. Most of my coworkers are that or even more.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” Dex admitted. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here.”

“I want to be here,” she said. “I like talking to you. You’ve told me a lot about the FBI. That’s not the only reason I like talking to you, though.”

“Why’s that?” Dex couldn’t help but ask.

“You’re nice to me,” she simply stated. “I got lucky that you’re my neighbor. I feel safe.”

“Even though you know my line of work isn’t always sunshine and daises—even though you know what I’ve done,” Dex said in a low voice, “You still feel safe?”

“You’ve given me no reason to think otherwise,” she said softly. “You’ve shown me one side of you. I’m shocked you haven’t figured out I’m trying to get to know all of you, Dex.”

Dex held her gaze and felt something blooming slowly in his chest. “What else do you want to know?”

“We can save it for another time. You asked me here tonight because you wanted to get to know me,” she nudged his shoulder with hers, the first physical touch they’d shared all evening.

“That’s right,” Dex said with a small nod.

“Your turn,” She said with a welcoming smile. Dex took a deep breath. Truthfully, he felt the basic questions had run dry. He knew all there was to know about her on the surface: how she got into forensic science, where she studied, where she’s from, where she works. When he was serving time in the army, the comrades he was with often sat in circles in their tents and started playing games like Never Have I Ever or Would You Rather? He didn’t want to play those games with her now, but he wanted to get to know her on a deeper level. Those games typically made people reveal things about themselves. If she felt so safe around him, Dex didn’t see any harm in asking more personal questions.

“Do you remember what your prom was like?” Dex asked with a sideways smile.

“My prom?” Her eyes lit up at the question to Dex’s relief. He nodded. “Oh my, gosh, well, yes. It was such a weird time for me. I actually didn’t have a date my junior year, but senior year I did. I was the worst prom date.”

Dex smiled, trying to live vicariously through her experiences. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true. I had a crush on someone else so by the end, I ditched my prom date and went to a different party. But I had so much fun with my friends. I miss the freedom of being that young,” she smiled. “Good music, free food. Sneaking alcohol at the after party. What about you?”

Dex looked away from her and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t go to prom. I didn’t technically have a prom.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. The institution Dex grew up in threw a makeshift prom for the seniors, but it didn’t have good music. It had free food that came from the cafeteria they ate at every day already. And absolutely no alcohol by any means. And Dex didn’t have a date. “I remember sneaking out to leave early and head back to my room.”

“Room?” She questioned.

“I grew up in a Boys’ Home,” Dex lied again. “They invited other homes for orphans but it was awkward. No one really knew anyone. I swore off events like that after that.”

“When’s the last time you went to an event?”

“Probably then.”

“Dex,” she said his name, “we’ll have to find an event for us to go to and change that.” Dex smiled. He’d only consider it for her.

“What color was your dress?” He asked her.

“White,” she said. “With a bunch of sparkles. My friends gave me shit about it, saying white was for weddings, but I didn’t care. I loved my dress. It was an off-shoulder dress. I felt like a princess.”

Dex tried to imagine it in his mind. White—fitting for her.

“I’m sure you looked like one, too,” Dex said quietly. “Have you ever traveled outside the city?”

“Of course,” she smiled again. “I’ve been for Orlando, Boston… the entire east coast, pretty much. Outside, I’ve been to London.”

“London,” Dex said impressed. “Did you like it?”

“I did but, it’s got nothing on New York. Where have you traveled?”

“I’ve only ever traveled for the army,” Dex answered. “Nowhere exciting. And definitely not for vacation.”

“We’ll use up your PTO days soon,” she nudged his knee with hers. Dex liked the hopefulness in her tone—the idea of what she was saying coming to fruition one day. And he liked that she said we.

“Do you remember your first heartbreak?” Dex asked her.

“Oh, Dex,” she sighed. “Who doesn’t? It happened recently in college. About around the time I was a freshman. Of course, I fell for a guy who was older than me. He had me in the palm of his hand for an entire year… until he graduated and dumped me like that. I was so head over heels for him, but it taught me a great lesson. Never put your life on hold for someone else.”

“That’s true,” Dex said. “I’m sorry he did that to you. That must’ve been hard.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I hardly think about it now, unless someone asks me. Do you remember yours?”

“Yeah,” Dex replied. “Like you said, who doesn’t?”

“What was it?”

“It’s not a typical heartbreak.”

“It’s all the same feeling.”

“I guess it would be when my parents died,” Dex said, meeting her eyes. “And then I was put in that home when I was a kid.”

“Dex, I’m sorry,” she whispered, scooting closer to Dex on the couch. His right leg was now resting against her left leg. She put her arm around his back and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dex whispered back. “It was a long time ago. It made me capable of being on my own at an early age.”

“Do you have other family?” She asked, pulling back to look at him.

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Well,” she said instantly, “now you’ve got me.”

Dex wanted to tell her that she couldn’t say things like that to him unless she really meant it. But he didn’t want to get serious about it all—didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Do you remember your first kiss?” She asked him in a lighter voice. Dex laughed.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I had no idea what I was doing. It was awkward. And wet. You?”

She laughed against him. “I had a similar experience. It was so strange at first. I honestly hated it. I felt too young to kiss like that.”

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, trailing off, thinking of another question to ask her. He opened his mouth to say something, wondering if it may be too far, or treading a thin line of what boundaries they already had. Her leg was still pressed against his, but her hands were to herself now. “Do you remember… your first time?” He asked her.

Silence at first. So much silence that Dex had to look at her to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were focused in front of her, avoiding his. He’s never seen her like this—quiet, unsure. Dex wanted to rescind the question immediately and apologize for overstepping a boundary. But then, she gave him a small, ironic smile.

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. Dex thought of every possibility in his head that could make her not remember something like that—having sex for the first time—and each possibility raised concern in him until she finished her answer. “I haven’t had my first time yet.”

It was Dex’s turn to go silent. He looked at her expression—she was trying her hardest to keep an indifferent look, but Dex sensed a tinge of embarrassment from her, and even sadness. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more: that she was a virgin or that she was capable of emitting an emotion he knew all too well. He wanted to kick himself for triggering that emotion out of her.

“I’m sorry,” Dex squinted his eyes, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not judging me, are you?”

Dex looked at her in disbelief. How could he judge a girl like her? Dex has killed people before—not in the line of duty. He’s used lethal force; he’s been abandoned. And she thinks that he would judge her over not having ever had sex? Dex felt hollow in his heart for a moment—that she thought for even a second he would ever judge her for something like that. She, who is so kind and sweet—pure—someone Dex is positive he isn’t worthy of having so close to him. She scares him in a lot of ways because of that. But somehow he’s earned her trust. No, there’s no world where Benjamin Poindexter judges her.

“Never,” he breathed out, moving so he was facing her. “I could never judge you for something like that. There’s no shame in it.”

“Sometimes I feel that way, that I haven’t experienced something so intimate before,” she said behind a sad smile. In a lot of ways, Dex hasn’t experienced something so intimate before either. Yes, he’s had sex—but the sex he’s had with partners never felt intimate. It just felt like sex. Soulless, empty, physical. He always felt emptier inside after.

“It’s okay,” Dex comforted her. “It’s not always intimate.”

“It’s not?” She asked him, furrowing her brows. “I don’t know. It seems intimate to me.”

“It is,” Dex nodded, “it can be. But it has to be with the right person. Otherwise, it’s just an act.”

“I don’t want it to be that way,” she admitted, breaking eye contact. “Just an act. I can’t—I’m too sensitive to just do it. It has to mean something. I think that’s why I’ve waited so long. Not because of religious reasons. I’m not waiting for marriage. I just want my first time to be intimate. I want my first time to mean something. I want it to be real. I’ve heard so many stories from my friends saying guys just leave them after they get what they want. I’m not strong enough for that.”

“I understand,” Dex said softly. “I get it. But please know I could never judge you for that. If you don’t judge me for not being pure.”

“Pure,” she laughed, “is that what you think I am now that you know that?”

“No,” Dex shook his head. “I knew you were pure from the moment I met you. I didn’t need to know anything else about you to know that.”

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“Because,” Dex struggled to find the words. He looked at his hands, her knees, her curious expression. “You talked to me so easily that first night in the elevator. So open. I’m not—I’m not used to that. You were kind. I could tell you were a good person. I—I need that in my life, __,” he said, almost pleading like she was halfway out the door when she was still sitting on the couch next to him.

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” she whispered.

“I let you come over every night to talk about my job because you wanted to,” Dex began to say, “but I also let it keep happening because it has kept me sane. Talking to you. Being with you…” he broke eye contact again. “You tell me I make you feel safe,” Dex spoke again. “You make me feel that way, too.” But when Dex says that she makes him feel safe, he doesn’t mean safe from the other people in the building or even New York City. She makes him feel safe from himself.

“I’d never want to do something to make you go away,” Dex continued. “I want you around,” he whispered. “I want you to stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she shook her head. She placed her hand on Dex’s knee. Dex slowly brought his hand to cover hers. This was the first direct contact they’d ever had—holding hands. Dex looked at the image—studied how his hand fit perfectly on top of hers. He twisted his fingers so they intertwined. Without thinking, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She let him. He kissed her knuckles again, then the back of her and, then her wrist, and soon Dex was peppering kisses all the way up the length of her arm, pushing her sleeve up.

“Dex…”

He rolled her sleeve down and held her hand again, waiting for her directive. When she gave no protest, Dex moved her hair behind her and kissed her neck. She gently pushed his chest away from her, but only to look at him. His eyes were dark, full of intensity. She leaned in and closed the space between them, kissing Dex and Dex kissing her back. The moment their lips touched, they both knew it was long overdue. Dex placed his hands on her waist while she held him on his shoulders. His tongue made his way into her mouth and she welcomed it gladly. Dex squeezed her gently and pulled back, resting his forehead on hers, out of breath.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a kiss like that?” She asked. Both of them had soft laughs escape their lips.

“I think that was my first time,” Dex admitted against her lips, “my first time wanting to kiss someone like that.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” she smiled.

Dex kissed her again, gently pressing her to lay down on his couch. She did so she was laying on her back, with Dex leaning over her. She pushed his chest away again, indicating she wanted to speak.

“Dex, I want you to be my first time,” she said.

“What?”

“I want you to take my virginity,” she told him. Dex pulled back completely now. He had to sit with what she was asking him. She leaned up again in concern. “I want it to be with you.”

“__,” he said her name, rubbing his eyes closed. As much as he wanted that, Dex wasn’t sure he was worthy. He wasn’t worthy to be in your presence alone—but to take that from you, the very thing that could change everything—he wasn’t sure he was worthy of that either. You were so good and so pure—to give him that responsibility is to give him the power to potentially ruin that. He couldn’t stand the thought of ruining something else that was so good in his life.

But if it wasn’t going to be him, it was going to be someone else. And the thought of someone else doing this to her—ruining her purity—cut him to the bone. As quickly as his attachment grew in his chest, jealousy did too, at the thought of someone else doing it to her.

Selfishly, he wants to be the one to taint her. Unselfishly, he doesn’t want to ruin what she is.

“You don’t want me,” she shook her head and bit her lip, avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not true,” Dex said. “I do want you.”

“Then why aren’t you saying yes? Why aren't you taking me right now?”

“Because like you said before,” Dex whispered, taking her hands again. “You want it to be special. You want it to mean something. Rushing into it on a spur of the moment thing won’t make it what it should be.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and Dex had never seen her so emotional. It made his heart hammer in his chest. He shifted so he sat closer to her. He kissed her forehead.

“I want you,” he reassured her. “But not right now. You should sleep on it. Really think if you want it to be me. I’d hate to ruin a perfect night by us jumping into it right away.”

She avoided looking at him, but deep down, she knew he was right.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I will.”

He kept looking at her until the look of worry faded from her face. All that was left was exhaustion in the form of half-closed eyes and soft breathing. Dex nudged her with his knee.

“What do you say we call it for tonight?” Dex asked. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I should go.”

Dex walked her to her door. As she unlocked it, she turned around to say goodnight again, and as if on cue, Dex twisted her into his arms and gently pushed her against the wall of the hallway, kissing her deeply. He locked her there, between his arms, a leg separating hers. She placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. When he pulled back, he looked away, as if the mere sight of her would make him come completely undone.

Silence followed her into her apartment. Dex retreated back to his, and while she was no longer gracing it with her presence—he felt her everywhere.

◎◎◎

Dex sat at his kitchen counter. His mind was too clouded by his thoughts to focus on anything—his thoughts that were consumed by her. He didn’t realize that by giving her a choice in thinking about what they talked about, he was at the mercy of that decision.

If she ended up not wanting it to be with him, how would that change their relationship? Would she stop coming over? Worse—would she never speak to him again? Dex could’ve easily given her what she wanted in that moment, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin what they already had. What had easily landed in his lap without him having to do anything.

On the other hand, if she did still want it to be with him… well, where do they go from there? Not to mention that he would be the one to take that purity away from her—and not in the sense of virginity. But in the sense that someone like him, someone who has killed and is capable of doing much worse, gets to be inside her for the first time. He didn’t feel worthy to be in her presence like that, to be the one to alter her experience with intimacy forever. If she still wanted it to be with him, he would make sure it was special and intimate like she wanted it to be.

But he’s afraid that if this happens, he’ll never be able to let her go. It sounds wrong, but he would feel a sort of possession over her. He was protective over her already; after this, he would be downright territorial. His past lovers have all been with people before him…she would be the first he’d ever be with who hadn’t been touched before.

Touched. Dex felt a cramp in his hands thinking about touching her for the first time. He’d want to map her entire body out; take in how beautiful she looks completely naked. He’d be the first to see her like that. He hoped he’d be the last.

There was a knock at his door.

Dex paused before getting up. It could all change in this next moment. He wasn’t sure which he was hoping more for. He took a deep breath and walked to the door.

There she was in all her glory—her hair had brushed out, messy curls and was pushed to one side, like she had just nervously fixed her hair. She was in a new set of pajamas—pearlescent silk white. She met his eyes for a fleeting moment before looking down—Dex could still she still felt embarrassed, or ashamed. For whatever reason. It should be him who felt like that.

“It’s okay," Dex spoke first. “Whatever your decision is."

“I want it with you, Dex,” she looked up at him with worried eyes. “But if you don’t want it with me, then—“

“Come in,” Dex opened the door for her to step inside. She immediately stood in the middle of his living room as Dex shut and locked his door.

She was holding herself—arms around her stomach, avoiding eye contact. Dex wasn’t used to seeing her so unsure of herself; he was used to seeing her positive, confident, smiling. Looking at him with hopeful eyes. What did he have to do to calm her nerves?

“I want this with you,” Dex said softly, approaching her slowly. “I just want to make sure you truly want this with me.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “More than anything.”

Dex placed his hand on her cheek, studying her features before everything changes. She was right about something—sex is an intimate act. Sex changes things. He knows how it has changed things for him, but he’s not sure how it will change things for her. He wanted to remember what she looked like before the act—before he changed everything. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. He didn’t want her to feel worried. It was written all over her face.

“What are you scared of?” He asked her.

“It hurting,” she said meeting his eyes.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Dex began, “it’ll hurt at first. But then it won’t. What else are you scared of?”

“Making a mess,” she broke eye contact again. “I may bleed.”

“Don’t worry,” Dex shook his head, whispering. “It’s not a mess you’ll have to clean up. Anything else?”

She bit her lip and met his eyes again. “I don’t want you to stop talking to me after it’s done. I don’t want us to do it, and then that being all that you wanted, and then you stop seeing me or hanging out with me.”

Dex furrowed his brows in disbelief. Here he was, afraid of the same thing, unknowing that she too shared the same fears. Dex would never stop talking to her after it’s done. She knows she’ll be attached to him after—little did she know that Dex would be infinitely more attached to her, for separate reasons. He may be taking her purity, but she’s giving him something worse: hopes that he may find newfound purity in himself.

“___,” he said her name, meeting her eyes. He caressed her cheek some more. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Once this happens—it won’t be possible for me to let you go.”

She took a long shaky breath. “Okay, Dex. I trust you. I—I think I’m ready.”

Dex continued to caress her cheek as he held her gaze, witnessing her eyes soften in comfort—safety. Trust. “Okay,” he said. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

She blushed in the most adorable way. Avoided eye contact, bit her lip. She nodded. Dex placed two fingers under her chin to lift her to look at him. Dex slowly leaned down to meet her lips with his. And when they finally touched, she fell right into him.

Dex cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, holding her steady in place as he kissed her. He teased her lips with her tongue, and she opened her mouth to let him in. He started off slowly…sweetly. When she took his hands and moved them to hold her waist, he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced against hers as he practically inhaled her with kisses. His strong hands rested at either side of her waist.

They both pulled back out of breath. Dex leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

“Let me lay you down,” Dex said in a low voice. She nodded against him and let him lead the way to his bedroom.

She sat at the foot of the bed in the center. She started to shake uncontrollably—from nerves, the AC in his room and from the reality of what was about to happen.

Dex knelt between her knees in front of her. He took her hand and held it in his. He kissed her knuckles and felt her shaking. He looked up at her.

“This is for you,” Dex reminded her. “It’s okay.”

“I’m just nervous,” she said. “I’ve never been completely naked in front of anyone.”

“I’ll ask you if I can do anything before I do it,” Dex said. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. She was taking deep breaths to calm her anxiety. Dex kissed her knuckles again. He placed both her hands on her legs.

“Can I touch your shoulders?” He asked.

She looked confused at first, but nodded anyway. Dex placed his hands on both her shoulders, softly caressing her with his thumbs. He moved his hands down both her arms slowly, feeling the softness of her silk pajamas. When he reached her hands, he held them both.

“Can I unbutton your shirt?”

“Yes,” she breathed softly.

Dex nodded and slowly started to unbutton her shirt one by one. He kept his focus on the buttons—nothing else—definitely not the goosebumps rising on her skin and definitely not at her hard nipples through the shirt. When he was done, only the center of her torso was exposed. She leaned back on her elbows and Dex leaned forward more between her legs, which were now spread a bit more.

Dex could see her heart pounding in her chest. He took right hand and kissed her knuckles. He met her eyes.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Dex reassured her. She shook her head.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Dex kissed her hand again. “Can I touch you?”

“Anywhere,” she said in a small voice.

Dex slowly began to trail his hand up the length of her torso, from her stomach to her collarbone. He slipped a few fingers under neath her shirt, dangerously close to her left breast. Dex looked at her once more for permission. All he needed was a small nod to let him know it was okay—and she did. Dex slowly traced his fingers over her breast, feeling her soft supple skin react to his touch—goosebumps, her nipple hard in the palm of his hand. Dex took a deep breath to control his own feelings of arousal—feeling her breast in his hand, realizing he was the first person to ever touch her like this. Dex squeezed her breast lightly and traced his pointer finger underneath her breast, feeling the curve of her soft skin. He pushed the shirt away, exposing her completely. He did the same thing on her other side with his other hand. He slid her shirt completely off and she closed her eyes, leaning fully back.

“You’re beautiful,” Dex whispered. “You’re soft and perfect.”

She opened her eyes. “Touch me more.”

Dex scooped her in his arms and lifted her further up his bed. He knelt between her on the bed and traced his hand on her stomach again. An intrusive thought crossed his mind—would she let him come inside her? Would she want to feel his seed that deeply inside her, knowing the risk? Dex felt his cock harden at the thought of coming inside her for her first time.

He took a deep breath and crossed the thought away. He placed both his hands on her breasts and gently squeezed them again. He leaned down and kissed the skin between her breasts. She closed her eyes in pleasure. Dex kept his hands on her waist and slowly kissed his way to her right breast, kissing it before taking her nipple in his mouth. He licked and sucked her hard nipple, gently wrapping his lips around it and starting a motion of licking and sucking. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and kissed her breast. He did the same thing on the other side.

“How did that feel?” He asked her.

“Good,” she answered in a breathy voice. “Really good.” She was still shaking. Dex was starting to love the idea of him making her shake like that.

“Good,” he said. Dex began to pepper kisses down the length of her torso, holding his hands on either side of her waist. She breathed deeply and pressed her head into his pillow, bracing herself for whatever was next. He played with the hem of her pajama pants and looked up at her with a slight sense of urgency.

“Can I take these off?” Dex asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes.

In one single slip, Dex took her pajama pants and underwear off, completely exposing her to him. Dex gazed at her sex which was slightly glistening from how wet she was, and then he noticed her slightly shaking again. He placed his hands on her thighs and kissed her on either side, trying to hold her steady.

“It’s okay,” Dex whispered. “Just tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t,” she said. “I’ll stop shaking soon.”

Dex secretly hoped she wouldn’t. He slowly slid his right hand over to her inner thigh and began to draw small circles. He slowly inched his way over to touch her pussy. He ever so gently placed the pad of his thumb on her clit, mimicking the small circles he just drew on her thigh before. She shivered at his touch and Dex watched her carefully. He mindlessly kept rubbing her clit as he watched her expression change from tense to relaxed.

“That feels really good,” she whispered.

“Let me know how this feels,” Dex said in a low voice. He slowly knelt between her legs, pushing them farther apart. He placed his entire mouth on her pussy and began to lap slowly at her slick folds. He started from the bottom and licked slowly up to her clit.

“Oh,” she moaned in a slightly pitched voice. Her legs shifted against Dex’s head, which was welcomed. Dex continued to lap at her wetness, completely putting his entire mouth on her sex. He pulled back momentarily to insert one finger in her tight pussy. She gasped at the tension, grabbing onto the fitted sheets. Dex reached his other hand up and took her hand, indicating that she could hold onto him. He pulled his finger and met his lips to her pussy again, this time moving his tongue around faster than before. His lips were locked on her wetness, and he began to feel himself get lost in the way she felt against his mouth, like this was his last meal on earth. She squirmed against his face, breathing deeply. She reached to pull on his hair to channel how he was making her feel. His hand gripped her thigh while the other held onto her ankle.

Dex focused his sucking on her clit and he paid mind to how she was breathing—he didn’t want her to come yet. Her eyes were closed, mouth half open, brows furrowed together. With his lips still on her pussy, Dex looked up at her and locked eyes for a moment with her before she closed them again and sighed into his pillow. He took one last lap at her wetness before pulling back and kissing both of her inner thighs.

“Dex…”

“You okay?” He licked his lips.

She only nodded, slightly disappointed by how cold she felt now that he wasn’t touching her. Dex could sense she wanted more. He could sense she was ready. He took off his shirt and pants, exposing himself to her. He couldn’t remember the last time he was bare in front of someone, but he didn’t care—all those times before didn’t matter. Only now did.

His cock was hard, pre-cum leaking at the tip. Dex was slightly surprised that she reached down to touch him, gently running her thumb over his tip. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He placed his hands under the small of her back and lifted her up his bed, so she lay perfectly in the middle. He was hovering over her now—his cock dangerously close to her wetness, but not touching. They looked at each other for a moment, Dex looking deeply into her eyes—he couldn’t tell what she felt. Fear, anticipation, aroused? A mix of all three, he supposed. Because it’s exactly how he felt, too. Knowing that after this, their entire dynamic would change. For better or worse.

She spread her legs wider and placed her hands on his face. Dex leaned down and kissed her gently.

“You still want this?” He asked her.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Please be gentle.”

“I will,” Dex nodded, his hot breath hitting her skin. He pushed a strand of hair away from her flushed face. He kissed her between her eyebrows.

Dex slowly lined up his cock at her entrance and rubbed his tip against her folds, getting himself wet with her pussy. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. Her eyes were closed, but he watched her as he ever so slowly tried to push himself inside her. He was too big for her to enter easily, and she was too tight for him to go any harder. She said gentle, and that’s exactly what he did. She took a sharp intake of breath and her heart was beating hard against her chest. Dex could sense her anxiety and kissed her forehead again as he tried to push himself inside her more. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself inside her tight pussy, and in one quick thrust, Dex was completely inside her. They both reacted in their own way—Dex letting out the deepest sigh he’s ever taken, and her gasping for air from the pain.

“Dex, Dex,” she whispered in a slight panic.

“Shh,” Dex was trying to keep himself focused but it was hard to while he felt her tight pussy completely encase him while at the same time soften her worries. “It’ll get better. I’m going to go back and forth.”

She nodded and kept her eyes shut, a pained expression on her face. Dex felt incredible inside her, but this wasn’t about him. It was all for her.

He slowly pulled out, and she could feel the difference immediately. He felt so big inside her that when he almost pulled out, she felt so empty—she needed to feel him like that all the time. Close, inside, tangled up with her softness.

When he pushed back in, he couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his lips. She was shaking, and her shaking at his cock inside her, ignited something primal in him. He was the first person to ever feel her like this and make her feel this way, and that thought alone spurred Dex on to keep thrusting inside her. She was completely soaking and he could feel her start to mold to his cock.

“Dex,” she whispered his name, “it’s starting to feel different.”

“How?” He uttered out while he still slowly went back and forth inside her.

“Good,” she opened her eyes finally and met his dark ones. “Really good. I—“

“You want more?” Dex asked, and it was his turn to close his eyes.

“I want more,” she nodded.

Dex wasted no time in speeding up his thrusts inside her. He went even deeper, feeling the tip of his cock touch the back of her cervix. He was imprinting his size on her. She knew she would feel him for days after. She felt so velvety, soft, wet and tight around his cock, Dex’s mouth was half open and his eyes were closed as he continued to thrust inside her.

“More, Dex,” she sighed.

His arms were under her, and hers were around his shoulders. Dex kept one arm under her and held onto his bed frame to get a better angle at fucking her, because now that’s what they were doing. Dex pounded inside her tight pussy, wetness and possibly blood coating both of them and his sheets. He watched her as she closed her eyes, mouth half open, as he continued to fuck her into being all his. He didn’t know what he liked more—being inside her or watching how much she enjoyed him being inside her. She fluttered her eyes open for a moment, meeting his, and Dex instantly closed his eyes. He retreated his arm back from the bed frame and scooped her in his arms, pressing his forehead against hers.

She closed her eyes again and had an expression of arousal, her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth slightly open. She opened her eyes and suddenly felt very aware of what was happening between their two sexes—it was a mix of wetness from her and something else more runny—blood. Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, Dex could tell, and she tried to look between them as he kept thrusting his cock inside her, unsure if she should allow herself to feel good or worry about the mess she’s making.

Dex followed her line of view and blocked it with his dark eyes.

“Look at me,” he whispered. “Look at me. How do you feel?”

She met his eyes and sighed heavily, “But Dex—“

“Don’t,” he pressed his forehead firmly against hers, continuing to pound into her, feeling the tip of his cock touch the back of her cervix. “Focus on me.”

Focus on him she did—the way he was hitting her g-spot repetitively made her spread her legs wider and push him in even more. He filled her up so completely, so well, she was sure to feel him for days.

“Oh, God, Dex,” she moaned, louder than before, “something’s happening—“

“Let it,” Dex whispered against her lips, closing his eyes and focusing on hitting her sweet spot. “Come for me, __. Come for me…come for me…”

“Dex!” Her pussy convulsed around his cock as she finally reached climax for the first time. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly against her, holding on like she was holding on for life. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she lost her breath and regained it as she held onto his warm body. He was still inside her, thrusting more gently now. He kissed her neck, kissed the skin behind her ear, kissed her forehead and kissed her lip as he continued to move inside and out of her.

“Oh,” Dex whispered against her lips. “I’m right behind you—“

“Inside me,” she said in a whisper, “please.”

Dex closed his eyes as he felt himself release his seed inside her tight pussy, feeling it coat all over her inside, he was shaking against her. It was her turn to kiss him, to bring him back down from his own high.

He laid his entire body weight on her, which was welcomed. His cock was still inside her, resting, until he slowly pulled out of her. She held him tighter. He breathed her in deeply, kissing her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

He pulled back, gazed in her eyes for a moment.

“Let me get a towel,” Dex said softly.

He pulled the sheets over her and when he came back, he cleaned between her legs as best as he could while she fell asleep. Dex threw the towel in the hamper, a clean, perfect throw, and crawled back under the sheets with her. He pulled her in tightly, and she molded against him like she was meant to be there. It may have been her first time, but he was certain this was his first time feeling the attachment in the aftermath. He hoped this wouldn’t be their last.

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