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https-yutaliker · 4 months ago

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━━ stranger - kenji sato x fem! reader

singer! reader x kenji sato

wc: 2.6k --- warnings!

pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise, pet names (baby, good girl, etc.), pussydrunk kenji, switch!kenji, switch!reader, cunnilingus, teasing, edging, munch kenji

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"i know your face, i know your name, but i don't know you. isn't that crazy?"

leaves fly around outside, the cool autumn breeze flowing through the crisp air. the giants had finally earned a championship for the first time in years, the helpful addition of kenji sato being the supporting backbone of it all. for the large celebration they had hired you and your band for the occasion, just the right moment as you guys were getting to the point you would take any offer available.

with you as the lead singer, your voice travelled smoothly through the residence, eyes closed as you were caught in the groove that were your instrument players. as you open your eyes for a harmless scan of the area, you notice him. kenji sato.

he nursed a shot of whiskey in his hand, taking the occasional sip as his teammates surrounded him. but his eyes never strayed from your figure. taking the last gulp he set down his drink firmly before walking over to you, ambition clear as day in his eyes.

“hey,” you hear next to your ear, his breath falling over the shell as his arm comes to settle around your waist. “[name], right? i really liked the set tonight with your crew. your voice is angelic, y’know that?” he speaks, his heavy gaze locked onto yours. you gaze up at him wistfully, body tingling where his hand rested nonchalantly on your hip. you giggle, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “aww, well thank you. the kenji sato thinking i’m pretty and my voice is good? i’m surprised i haven’t tipped over by now.”

his eyes darken slightly, smirking at your words, somewhat surprised and thrilled his presence had this much of an effect on you. “really?” he starts, leaning closer into your space. “you’re that surprised i think you’re pretty?” with his next words, he moves down to your ear, his breath slightly puffing against it. “and it’s not think, it’s something i know for a fact. you’re gorgeous.”

you stare wide eyed at his words, your heart nearly stopping. stomach fluttering, your face grows warm with the added sensation of his warm breath washing over your ear. seeing your shocked expression, kenji’s smirk only deepens. body pressed against yours, he lifts his hand to grasp your chin in between his index and thumb, guiding you to keep your gaze locked onto his.

“wanna get out of here?”

as kenji drags you inside the house you snicker as you make it inside, the sight of his eagerness easily amusing. he crowds into your space, your arms wrap around his neck as you capture his lips with yours, melting into his hold. he moans involuntarily against you, the tension and anticipation exploding all at once at the feeling of your body pressed against his. his arms wrap around you, pulling you close, and he wastes no time deepening the kiss. the pent up desire from the car ride and the hours of wanting you come rushing through him, taking over as he kisses you.

his mind is fuzzy, thoughts racing. he wants to get you to his room, but part of him doesn’t want to stop. desperate, your hand trails up to tug at his hair harshly, your leg sliding up to cradle his hip. the feeling of your leg wrapping around his hip and your hand pulling at his hair has him almost losing his mind. he groans against your lips, grip on you tightening, almost as if he’s scared you might disappear. he pushes you further into the doorway, pressing you against the wall and trapping you underneath his body.

kenji breaks the kiss to trail down your jawline, lips ghosting over the supple skin as he feels you shiver underneath his hold. “i wanna memorize every inch of your body..,” he groans. you feel a hand cradle the small of your back, arching into it. your body flushes as his intoxicated gaze makes contact with yours.

“k-kenji,” you manage to gasp out, tugging at the raven strands. “maybe we should take this to your room instead.” he lifts his head from your neck, appearance mussed and disheveled as his intoxicated gaze locks into yours with lidded eyes. “r-right.. yeah.. room.. that’s.. probably a good idea," he stammers out. kenji practically drags you to his room, his legs carrying you both there in record time. his body thrums with anticipation. the second you enter his room and the door is shut he pounces, pinning you against the door. his body molds against yours, his lips devouring your neck, hands roaming anywhere they can reach.

you whine at his sucking, your hands coming to scratch at his back as your leg cradles his hip once again, grinding against him with pure need. kenji groans at the feeling of your body grinding against him, his teeth sinking into your neck from the sensation. his hips thrust forward instinctively, his aching cock pressing into your core. his body craved more contact as he started to get rougher with his hands and lips.

the hours of waiting for you, fantasizing about what it would be like to have you like this… it’s driving him absolutely insane.

“[name]… fuck, i can’t get enough of you, baby." he groaned, lips parting as his eyes shut at the sensation. his thrusts slowly speed up, his hands landing on your hips as he grips them in a vice. a moan escapes you at his words, your hands tracing the hem of his shirt before tugging at it hungrily, craving to feel his skin against your own. “shit, take this off,” you whine, the pressure of his clothed cock against your cunt making your knees feel weak. he immediately obliges, undoing his buttons hurriedly before tossing it to the side and crowding into your space once again, attacking your neck and chest with his lips and hands.

“want you so much… so much.” he breathes against your skin, whining as he paws at your skirt. your frustration gets the best of you as you push kenji onto the bed, climbing onto his lap as you ravish him. the atmosphere is so hot, a mix of limbs and longing as you two claw at each other, the desperation almost unbearable. his hands fly up to grip your hips as he falls back, desperate to keep you as close to him as possible. he moans into the kiss at the feeling of you rolling your hips into his own, his hips meeting yours with equal fervor. his hands grip harder on your hips, bruises bound to appear later.

kenji breaks the kiss, lips glistening and eyes low as they burn into your own. he lets out a shaky breath. “god, i need you so bad.” you pull back flushed before you giggle, running your fingers through his hair before lightly tugging him lower so he has to look up at you. “yeah? What do you need me to do, ken?” you tease, the atmosphere thick with pure desire. kenji’s heart practically bursts, his body shuddering at the touch of your nails against his scalp. he swallows dryly before replying hoarsely. “need you to let me taste you.. please.” his hands move from your waist down your legs as he lowers himself onto his knees, leaving your hand resting limp on his head. “anything you’ll give me, i’ll take it.”

you raise your eyebrow at the sight before guiding him back up by his chin, guiding him to the awaiting mattress. kenji stumbles back, you following right behind as you situate yourself to sit on his stomach. grabbing a fistful of raven locks you force him to look up at you, his eyes slightly glossing over.

“you said anything i give you right? let’s see how well you hold up your word, sato.” you breathe out, tightening your grip on his hair. at the sensation his eyes flutter closed, slightly rolling back before he comes back to himself.

he holds your thighs open, keeping them close to his own body before leaning into your core, nose pressing against the skin of your cunt as he presses a light kiss against your clit, licking a stripe against it. you shudder, back bowing into itself at the sensation. at your reaction kenji grows eager, sucking slightly at it before licking messily into your folds, his grip strengthening as a moan escapes him. “god, fuckin’ love how you squeeze around my tongue like that,” he pants, shoving his tongue back into you, curling to lick up every ounce of wetness that leaked out. you moan loudly, slapping your hand over your mouth as the other comes back down onto kenji’s hair.

“shit – kenji,” you sighed, your eyes half-lidded as you struggle to keep your gaze on his own. “keep… keep going,” you manage to garble out. he laps at your cunt hungrily, every drop landing on his tongue making him dizzy with the desire for more. one of his hands slowly moves from your thigh, making its way to your dripping cunt before his fingers trace your folds. he delves them in swiftly, a cry escaping you. squelching sounds fill the room adding to the erotic symphony, your hips grinding down onto his face quicker with added desperation.

he moans into your cunt, hand bruising your hip as his fingers scissor you open carefully. the stretch has you squirming, your eyes shutting as his fingers probe deeper. “‘s good baby — ah, feels so good ken.” he hums into your wetness, pulling back momentarily. “you taste so good, could eat this pussy for days.” he pants before diving back in as he laps up your wetness. his fingers work in and out of you swiftly, curling just right with every movement of his tongue. tremors rack your body, your release teetering just on the edge. “so- so good, kenji– ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, body tingling as you prepare to let go.

hearing your pleas, kenji pulls off with a smirk, your pained whines being cut off as he pulls you into a searing kiss, hand grasping at your hair for purchase. his tongue licks into your mouth with a force that has you moaning, kissing him back in earnest. you part, heavy panting filling the thick atmosphere. you stare for a split second at each other before ripping your clothes off respectively.

the sound of your top being discarded and your skin against his own has kenji’s mind running rampant. the sensation of your lips pressing against his own, breathy moans filling his brain makes him snap. he breaks the kiss, breath coming out in labored gasps as his trembling hands come to fit your thighs, the meat of your skin escaping each crevice as he tries to position your bodies together.

“i want you so bad…. please.”

“fuck — okay,” you moan into his mouth, grabbing his length steadily as you raise your body above his own. sinking down, you keen as your head falls back, fingers digging into his broad shoulders. kenji lets out an animalistic moan, any possible remaining cockiness quickly dissipating as the tip of his cock slipped past your folds. “that’s it, baby, take it all.” he muttered under his breath. his body arches into yours at the pure pleasure of it all, breath already picking up speed as his hips thrust up involuntarily.

he needs more.

from the top of the night until now, he’s been itching ever since your name rolled ever so smoothly off the tip of your tongue. “[name]..” he moans, his eyes glued to your own. “so good… god baby you feel so fucking good.”

you whine obscenely at the utterance of your name, your head lolling into the crevice of his neck as you grind into him. “shit… kenji, want more..” you babble mindlessly. the feeling of your walls fluttering around him causes him to groan, shifting his hips into a steady rhythm that has him grasping at your thighs desperately. every grind of your body against his has him gasping in pleasure. the feeling of your body surrounding him, the press of your skin on his, the hot breaths against his neck.

it’s driving him absolutely delirious with need. the sound of your murmured words has his heart clenching in his chest, his mind reeling with the need to give you more, to give you anything you needed.

“give you… anything you want, sweetheart.” he gasps out between groans, hips bucking up harder against yours. the sensation of him speeding up makes you yelp, your nails scraping roughly against his back as you bite on his shoulder roughly. your eyes squeeze shut before you release just as quickly, a wail leaving your lips as you attempt to grasp him closer. “goddd – kenji i’m so close,” you gasp out, breath quivering as a tear cascaded down your cheek.

“i know baby, i know.” he breathes into your ear, pulling your body closer to him as his thrusts speed up. “but look, you’re taking me so well, yeah?” he pulls your hips further down right as he thrusts up, and your jaw drops. tremors rack your body as your lips part in a silent cry, the only thing escaping your mouth being a measly cry. “a-ah, k-kenjii” you yelp, feeling your legs tighten around his waist. “right… right there – fuck!” the way he moved, controlling his hips with every motion and maximising his motions.

he chuckles, admiring the view above him as you unravel in his arms. he finds himself tossing his head back in bliss with a lean arm clinging onto the cool wood of the headboard. you’ve lost track of how long it’s been, a hazy cloud lingering over your mind as your eyes roll back in pleasure. you clench around him, whimpers spilling out of your mouth as your legs tremble. seeing you lose focus he grips your chin tightly, forcing you to face him. “eyes on me baby, don’t stop,” he pants, feeling your walls tighten.

the sounds of kenji’s orders push you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you throw your head back. pleasure washes over you like a bucket of ice cold water, your hands grabbing at his shoulders helplessly. “k-kenjiii- fuck!” you yelp, feeling your legs tighten around his waist. “want.. want you to breed me..” the sound of you unraveling in his hold and hearing your voice calling his name has a wave of desperate need coursing through him. just when he didn’t think things could get any more intense, he hears your words, and his mind goes white with raw need.

“f-fuck.. need to breed you.. need to fill you up.. oh christ..” kenji gasps out, his mind completely gone. his arms wrap around you even tighter, holding you close and moving you against him, his breath hot against your sensitive neck. you shudder, the feeling of his length in your sensitive cunt leaves your lips parted, your hips grinding incessantly at the painful pleasure as your nails scratch at his back needily.

each time you move against him, he feels like his mind is shattered. the sounds you’re making, the way he can feel you pulsing around him, the scratch of your nails against his back, it’s all pushing him closer to the edge. he can’t stop, can’t hold back anymore, his body is completely overcome with the intense ecstasy.

he gasps out a moan and buries his head into the crook of your neck as he thrusts up into you once, twice, his body tensing as he finally lets go. “oh god..” he heaves, thick cock letting hot spurts of white filling you up comfortably, a sigh escaping him as he leans fully onto his headboard. you sigh contentedly at him finishing, the warmth of it making you slightly quiver in his hold. “so full,” you mumble, your head falling softly onto his shoulder as you melt into‎ his strong hold.

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"in a different book, on a different page. you said you were different, but you’re the same, stranger."

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato smut #ken sato smut #kenji x reader #kenji sato x you #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising #Spotify

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amywritesthings · 6 months ago

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press four for more options. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. | masterlist

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re only a dial away from your wildest fantasies with the sexiest singles near your area.”

God, even the automated voice sounds porn-y.

A breathy feminine voice straight out of a 1975 VHS tape croons into the dead air of your small apartment bedroom, setting your nerves on edge.

God forbid the noise travels through the walls into your next-door neighbor's bedroom. Harriet and Miro do not need to hear what you’re up to this Friday evening.

Maybe, up to this Friday evening.

You haven’t decided yet, though one could argue that calling was half the battle.

Dressed head-to-toe in an emerald cocktail dress with a face full of tear-stricken makeup, you feel utterly ridiculous sitting at the foot of your bed — not even the edge of the mattress, but the goddamn floor.

Even your black heels, now scuffed from someone stepping on them on your way out to fetch a cab, remain dangling at your toes.

(As non-committal as your last relationship, ironically enough.)

The experts say don’t shit where you eat. Dating someone you work with typically goes up in flames as fast as a rogue wildfire — and you should have listened to all of the warning signs, but Porco Galliard had been so damn charming that you’d forgotten just about everything.

Including your dignity, apparently, since you seemed to conveniently forget the part where he has had an on-again, off-again relationship with Pieck Finger well before you got hired at this place.

Not exactly side chick behavior, since he technically didn’t cheat, but the sting of being second place before the race even started lingered deep.

(Didn’t you know? He always chooses Pieck. It’s just one of those things.)

Well, no missing that now.

Especially since the two of them were so cozy at the annual shareholder event — right in front of your fucking salad.

The event’s slated to end at eleven so you’ve been nursing a wild array of drinks since seven, with little breaks.

In retrospect, the napkin with scribbled chicken scratch that Annie Leonhart, your closest colleague, shoved into your hand in the midst of your brooding at the bar may have been a joke:

You need to loosen up. Call this stupid sex line and get that stick out of your ass.

She wasn’t kidding.

Every muscle in your body is too taut, including your brain.

So you took a cab, stumbled into your apartment, and landed — here.

Your phone sits right in front of you next to one of your half-worn heels, on speaker at the lowest setting.

Maybe it’s best to let the pre-recording list the entire numerical menu.

Maybe it’ll deter you from pressing anything at all.

“If you already know your match’s extension, press one.”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

You tap the napkin carelessly against the stem of your glass of wine, contemplating exactly how Annie Leonhart managed to find the information for this service to begin with.

Did she already have a match?

Did she regularly call them to blow off some steam?

She's always so chill. It would make sense.

There’s a chance this is a nasty prank at your lowest moment, but you don’t think Annie cares enough about other people to plan such a masterful takedown.

At the work event, she seemed pretty serious about the legitimacy of Scout Services Hotline, and honestly?

Even if you had been drinking all night at the event, you were going to need way more liquid courage to even consider trying your hand at calling a sex line to quell weekend loneliness.

So naturally, you opened a new bottle of wine.

At the first glass of wine, you still weren’t ready.

The second? The napkin sat adjacent to your laptop as you played compilations of sad break-up songs further aggravating your spiraling depression.

The third was the charm to get you to pick up the fucking phone to see what the fuss was all about.

“If you’re looking for someone specific — whether it’s the man, woman, or person of your dreams — press two.”

Tempting.

Your finger reaches out for the ‘2’ on your screen, but you wait it out.

“If you don’t have a preference for your delicious match, press three.”

“You could’ve done without the delicious part,” you mumble to yourself, picking up the glass of wine to take a generous sip. An involuntary grimace tugs at your cheeks.

“If you’re looking to speak with one of our representatives or need more assistance, press four for more options.”

For a solid five minutes you wait.

Contemplating.

Deciding.

You could press the red circle to hang up and go to bed.

It wouldn’t be the first time you rubbed one out and called it a night.

After all, what’s one more lonely weekend?

The spiel starts up again on a loop with the same seductive, breathy feminine voice.

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re only a dial away from your wildest fantasies with the sexiest—”

You smash a button, but you’re not sure which one you’ve clicked.

Before you can lean over to see on your screen, a different feminine voice comes over the speaker.

It’s a little higher pitched than the menu screen voice, but it’s still inviting. Warm.

“Thank you for choosing the Scout Services Hotline. You’re speaking to Petra. May I have the pleasure of knowing the name of the person I’m speaking to this evening?”

A name.

You should give a name that isn’t your real name.

But technically wouldn’t your name be on the credit card if you go through with this anyway?

“You can give a nickname, too, if that makes you feel better,” the woman named Petra adds as if she's a mind reader, breaking the running silence on your end of the line. “A lot of our clients like giving a fake name for security and anonymity.”

“Doesn’t that break once you put in your credit card information?” you blurt, not realizing the thought has spilled on your lips.

Petra laughs musically.

“Technically yes, but if you prefer to be called something, then we’ll be sure to add that to your profile. I take it it's your first time calling.”

Why are you doing this again?

“Painfully obvious, right?” you lament, staring down at the scribble on the napkin.

Did Annie have a fake name with this service?

“Not painfully at all,” Petra promises. “It’s a learning curve. So what may I call you?”

Real or fake?

Committed or just testing the waters?

“Scarlet?” you suggest, wincing immediately at the on-the-nose literary reference.

Letters, passion, blah blah love — it’s about the only creative thing your wine-addled brain can muster.

“I like Scarlet,” she hums, and immediately your brain is set on fire.

Are you going to be seriously this easy?

“Are you female, male, non-binary, genderfluid, prefer not to say…?”

“Female.”

"Pronouns?"

"Um, she and her."

“And you’re over eighteen?”

“Definitely over eighteen.”

“Perfect. So, Scarlet — did you have a preference on who you wish to speak to today? If you have a fantasy you wish to fulfill, then I can select someone for you.”

You want to scream.

Neurons fire as you try to come up with a cool and collected answer, only to allow the elixir of truth on your tongue to spill the beans.

“Just someone who’s got their shit together, honestly.” You exhale an awkward laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just calling because — I mean, I know you don’t care, but I like… um, deep voices? Stronger voices. Honestly I have no idea what to—”

“I have just the person.”

You pause.

Blink.

But you didn’t even describe anyone, not really.

A voice, maybe, if they cater to kinks of that nature.

You can only imagine they do — it’s a sex hotline, for crying out loud.

“Wait, you do?”

“Mhm!” she perkily states. “Is a man alright for this evening?”

A man with a deep voice who allegedly has his pretend shit together.

Granted it isn’t the opposite of Porco, he’s fairly capable at his job and out living his life just fine, but maybe you were just looking for a copy.

(Or a clue.)

“A man is… fine,” you hesitate. “Wait, so when do I give you my credit card information? My friend hooked me up with this, um — I don’t know if you have her name or if I should even say it, I know there’s probably some confidentiality—”

“Hold that thought,” Petra interrupts cheerfully. “You get the first fifteen-minute session for free, actually — you called just in time before our first-timer coupon expires.”

You can’t hide your surprise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Ha, your fucking luck.

“If you're enjoying the call, just tell your match and we can set up your card and keep it going. All we ask is that you take a survey after your session. Then you’ll be in our system with this phone number! We’ll never solicit you for calls, but it’ll make the process faster the next time should you call our hotline again.”

You drop your head back on your mattress, sighing heavily.

“...okay, yeah. That sounds great.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Give me one moment, Scarlet,” Petra giggles.

You hear something shift on her side.

Maybe she’s swiveling her chair. Are they located in an actual office building?

God, an office where people just do this for a living sounds larger than life.

“I’ll connect you with your match in a moment.”

Then the line cuts out to the opening notes to Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On, and you’re pretty sure you’re this close to chugging the rest of this bottle in one gulp.

“Is this seriously what you do on weekends, Annie?” you mumble to yourself, enduring the brutality of the waiting music while Petra connects you to your alleged match.

A man with a deep voice who has his shit together.

Is that even a real kink?

Has the bar really gotten that low?

Should you have described someone’s appearance? It wasn’t like it mattered over the phone.

As soon as it gets to the high note of the song, the line cuts again — silence.

Immediately you scramble to sit up taller, your hands fumbling to grab the phone from the floor.

You bring it up to your face, cupping the device in both palms to muffle the noise if it becomes downright pornographic in seconds.

Moment of truth.

With bated breath you wait — the person on the other line sighs, heavy and deep, before answering with the most nonchalant tone.

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re speaking with Levi. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

Holy fuck.

Immediately you forget your own voice listening to the hum of the receiver.

While you’ve only joked in passing that you have a voice kink, it’s screaming in neon lights here and now: this man’s voice may be monotone, but there is a growl to it.

A rumbling.

At this very moment, you completely forget that this man is on speaker phone and you’ve just returned home from the worst work event in the world.

You don’t have an ex-boyfriend.

You don’t even know your home address.

You’re simply… existing, lips parted, taking in the sheer tingle rolling through your torso.

“You there?”

Right, you’re meant to talk back.

“Huh? Oh — yes! Yeah,” you recover poorly. “Hi. It’s, um, it’s Scarlet.”

“Mm, Scarlet… Scarlet, Scarlet, Scarlet…”

The way the name drags along his tongue nearly makes your mouth water.

His voice — Levi — is smooth, like the velvet on your dress you’ve yet to take off.

“A pretty name for a pretty thing like you.” Something ruffles and Levi makes a small noise on the other end, likened to a cut-off hum. “Tell me what you look like, Scarlet.”

All you can do is stare at a chip in your wooden dresser directly across from you, listening to him speak.

“I’m…”

What do you even say?

How come you have to say anything at all?

Can’t he just read a takeout menu to you and call it a night?

Before you can answer, there’s an amused huff. “Someone’s nervous.”

Your face turns — well, a certain shade of scarlet.

“Ha. Sorry, I’ve—”

“Never done this before?” he finishes for you.

How mortifying.

“Is it that obvious?”

“It’s cute,” he relents, and you feel your face turn a degree hotter. “Don’t worry — I’ve been told I’m a great teacher, so you’re in good hands.”

“You’ll have your work cut out of you, trust me,” you breathe, feeling like you’ve been injected with an overdose of a truth serum. “Because I just got home from this stupid work event. My ex-boyfriend brought his new girlfriend — who also works with us — as his date — yay, me — except I feel like I was the side-piece-in-waiting for them. So he’s off getting laid and I’m calling a complete stranger on a random Friday because my work colleague recommended this phone sex hotline for a quick solution.”

Silence.

You blink twice as dread settles in your cut. You tap the phone off of speaker and push the device close to your ear, balancing it with your shoulder.

Did you scare him away?

Was that too much of a depressive dump?

You suddenly want to crawl under your bed frame and hide there forever.

But then — a gentle chuckle sounds from the other end of the line, and arousal shoots straight to your lower belly.

“Good thing all of the dirty talk is my job, then,” he muses. “You’re supposed to lay back and listen.”

“Listen?”

“Yeah, unless you weren’t looking to get bossed around.”

It isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever heard, that’s for sure.

“If I’m honest with you, Levi, I don’t know what I’m looking for,” you confess, running a hand down your face.

“Then let me figure it out for you. We have time.”

The man calling himself Levi pauses on the other end.

“Did you want to get fucked, Scarlet?”

Well, shit, he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Yes,” you blurt without thinking, then fumbling to recover. “I mean— Sorry, clearly I called thinking about sex, and your voice is extremely lovely and actually very hot—”

“Oh, you think so?” Levi interrupts, honey-smooth voice humming with amusement with that same hum that’s going to make you scream.

“Absolutely. Completely. Are you serious?” you sputter. “You’re like an ASMR wet dream.”

“A what?”

“A wet dream?”

“No, the other thing — ASMR?”

“Um, like when people make really niche quiet noises to a microphone with their mouths, and it gives you the tingly sensation in the back of your head.”

“Interesting,” Levi says. “So are you saying that’s what I do to you?”

For the umpteenth time, your brain blanks.

God, you could scream into your pillow.

If you weren’t so afraid you’d forget to mute your microphone first, then you already would be.

“Yes! — I mean, yes, but — wait, can we just pause this for a second?”

For a moment he doesn’t answer, but the tone of his voice shifts: still just as sultry, but with a hint of confusion and a dash of concern.

“Of course. Is everything alright?”

No, this entire night is weird.

If you don’t say something, then this is going to just keep looping and wasting his time.

“Okay,” you start, mustering the courage to get through your speech, “I know I’m spoiling the first-caller coupon for a free call and I’m sorry, I’ll totally pay for the session since you’re great and sound insanely hot and I’m sure you’re amazing at your job, but I just…”

You trail off, collecting your swimming thoughts.

“...I’m something like six or seven drinks in, I am craving potato chips, and I’d really like to just talk to someone for a few minutes.”

There.

It’s out in the open, your confession to the liminal altar.

You half-expect him to hang up rather than wasting his time with someone like you, but to your surprise, there is no click. No call ended. No new automated message.

“Six or seven is a lot,” he comments, and you can picture a brow furrow even if he doesn’t have a face. “Does this mean you handle your liquor, or is this a one-off rager?”

“I think I’m only still functioning because I ate my weight in dinner rolls at the party.”

“Do you have a glass or bottle of water near you?”

The switch up lessens the tension in your shoulder blades in an instant.

His voice is just as crooning, deep and inviting, but it’s nice to simply be asked.

“Nope.”

His voice sharply changes, authoritative and firm. “Then go get one.”

The demand does something to you.

Without thinking twice you begin to rock up on your heels, standing at full height.

“Okay, Mr. Bossy.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asks with a sprinkle of sarcasm. “Someone who has their shit together, if I read the notes right.”

“They write that stuff down?” you ask genuinely, minding your step as you pad barefoot across your apartment to your fridge.

“It’s your session,” he reminds softly. “We do whatever it is you want to do.”

“Even if it’s just to talk?”

“You’d be amazed at how many people call just to talk. Though I can’t say it’s my specialty.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not much of a small talker.”

The refrigerator door swings wide. “What’s your specialty, then?”

“Kink play, mostly. Dom and Sub. Guided masturbation. Edging. Making decisions for people who want to forget about making them for a while.”

One second the bottle of water is in your hand.

Next it’s on the floor.

“That’s, uh… a wide array of specialties,” you say. “And your rate, it’s…?”

“Not cheap.”

“Got it. So I’m really flubbing this free call.”

It’s small, but you hear a chuckle on the other end. “You said you wanted to talk, Scarlet, so we’re talking.”

Bending to grab your water bottle, you untwist the cap.

“Does this bother you, wasting your time talking?”

“You’re not wasting my time, Scarlet,” he says with such a promise that you almost believe it’s genuine. “You have a pretty voice, and you’re funny.”

“Shut up.”

“You do, and you are.”

“Uh-huh. And do you talk to a lot of people during your shifts?”

“That’s confidential.”

“So a lot.”

“Confidential.”

“And the length of calls,” you test, “are they hypothetically confidential, too?”

“It’s per minute, so.”

“Per minute?” you gawk. “Jesus, I’d go bankrupt talking to you.”

“Well, premium members receive bills per half hour,” he explains. “More bang for your buck.”

“Quite literally," you mumble. "And what’s a premium subscription get you?”

“Didn’t you check out the website before calling?”

“I told you I stumbled out of my cab and called the number on my napkin, Levi,” you chide. “I didn’t exactly do my research in my sexually frustrated state.”

“Fair, can’t blame you there.”

There’s something of a grunt on the other end, like he’s stretching his arms over his head.

Maybe he’s sitting in an office chair, too, going through the motions of his profession the same way the Petra lady had been.

You keep wanting to imagine what he’s doing on the other line, but you realize you haven’t asked the titular question yet.

“Hey, Levi?”

“Yeah, baby?”

It’s breathy, a roll of thunder in his tongue.

Instead of an office chair, you imagine a man lying on his bed.

Maybe his tie is half-done, hanging loosely around his neck.

Button-down open, exposing the planes of his chest; dress trousers unbuttoned and loose around his hips, so he can easily slide a hand—

Whoa.

You stop walking back to your bedroom and blink twice. “Oh, so you like pet names.”

Your face, in miraculous humiliation, grows another degree hotter at how amused he sounds with himself. “I never said that.”

“Sure,” Levi replies with a smirk to the concession. “What is it, Scarlet?”

(Maybe you’ll permanently change your name to Scarlet after tonight if it sounds this good on a man’s lips.)

You finally unzip the side of your dress and wiggle out, before finding a cozy spot in the middle of your mattress.

“How much time do I have left on this freebie?”

“Approximately three minutes.”

Time flies when you’re too busy gawking over someone’s voice, apparently.

“Can I ask what you look like?” you finally decide, playing along.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask,” Levi responds, returning to that same seductive tone he’d used when he first picked up the line. “Black hair, guess it’s a little shaggier than usual. Undercut.”

You squint to your ceiling. “I’m thinking of Dimitri from Anastasia right now but with black hair.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“You’ve seriously never seen Anastasia?”

“It’s a movie?”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry for your childhood.”

“It’s an animated movie?” he scoffs. “Even worse.”

“You wound me,” you joke, pressing a hand over the cup of your beige bra. “What color are your eyes?”

“A gray-ish blue,” he tells you. “Sharp nose. High cheekbones. I’m a daily gym go-er, so I’m mostly lean muscle. I can probably pick you up, easily.”

So a fit man with an undercut hairstyle with gray-blue eyes and a relatively sharp face.

Now you have a face to the image of a man lying on his bed, still in that button-down shirt and dress trousers.

His happy trail is probably dark, too, disappearing just under the waistband of his boxer briefs.

Or boxers?

Maybe nothing.

Your hand moves on its own accord to the waistband of your panties, toying with the fabric.

Contemplating.

Wondering if it’s wrong — when it really shouldn’t be wrong at all.

“You sound handsome,” you murmur. “I wouldn’t mind being picked up.”

“Wouldn’t be the only thing I’d do to you,” he flippantly states, and your brain blanks to pure putty. “You sound a little more winded than before. Doing alright over there, party animal?”

“It’s late,” you lie even when you damn well know you don’t have to lie. “Lots of drinking, first water of the night, lying down…”

“Better make it two waters before you fall asleep,” Levi states. “That’s an order, Scarlet.”

“Uh-huh.”

Your hand dips under your underwear, testing the waters.

But—

“Final sixty seconds,” he adds. “Any last words you want to get in before the line disconnects?”

“Only one minute left?” you protest, ripping your hand out of your underwear to pull the phone away from your ear.

14:02

So it really had been a fifteen-minute call.

God damnit.

Tapping the speaker icon once more, you stare at your phone and press your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“What’s your extension?”

Because you have to know.

Even if you don’t call again, it’s a comfort to have it on hand.

Levi waits a moment before responding.

“Two-five-one-two.”

2512.

You swipe away from the call to quickly pull up your notes app, tapping the number down with a noted reminder: the guy with the hot voice!

“Are you going to call me again, Scarlet?”

You open your mouth, but you struggle with an answer.

(You only have a few seconds! Think, idiot, think!)

“I’m not sure if—”

Click.

“Hello? Levi?”

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. Please stay on the line for a quick two-minute survey so we can better serve your fantasies in the future.”

Out of time.

You drop your phone to your stomach and groan.

Instead of calling back, you close your eyes — and, not before long, fall asleep to a dream of only one voice.

— —

Saturday is a wash.

You wake late, missing an invitation to brunch.

For the better half of the day, you wonder about him.

Levi.

Your arbitrary match that doesn't feel so arbitrary anymore.

(It's placebo effect, you tell yourself. They're supposed to make you feel wanted.)

Punishing yourself for your excessive liquor and stupid plans, you trudge to your local gym and do your best to stay focused on your workout.

Every nameless person with dark hair that walks past you on the sidewalk from your apartment; anyone could be him.

The man waiting in line at the coffee shop.

The man who accidentally walked into you while you were switching the song on your playlist at the crosswalk.

The man weight training in the corner of the room, fringe cascading down his face as he drips sweat.

You keep the napkin in your gym bag, then transfer it to your purse as you run errands.

You could call.

It isn’t like you’re strapped for cash at the moment.

Granted it’s very wish fulfillment and it isn’t like he’s actually into you, but the attention is nice.

Besides — you haven’t thought of your ex once since you woke up.

Annie texts you twice within ten minutes of each message, which is unheard for her.

[A. LEONHART]: So? Did you call?

[A. LEONHART]: Hello, earth to moron. At least like my message to tell me you’re alive. I’m not being interviewed by Dateline for you.

(Ah, there she is. Classic Annie.)

[YOU]: Yeah, I called. Not sure if it’s my thing.

[A. LEONHART]: Sometimes they match you with a dud. 2nd time’s the charm ;)

[YOU]: Do you ever use someone’s extension?

[A. LEONHART]: Duh. I’m a regular of one guy.

Okay, so she talks to a guy. Something grips your stomach as you type your reply.

[YOU]: Can I ask his name?

[A. LEONHART]: Why, so we don’t eiffel tower this?

[YOU]: jfc annie

[A. LEONHART]: lmao his name is Bert

So not Levi.

For some odd reason, you breathe a sigh of relief as you close out of your messages.

Maybe you're one of a million, but at least you're not sharing with Annie.

Once you return home from your errands, it's close to dinnertime.

You cook something simple for yourself, occasionally glancing over at your purse like you can x-ray vision through the fabric to see the napkin.

Then again, it isn’t like you actually need the napkin.

The number is already in your phone.

Pulling out your device, you set it on the kitchen counter and draw a slow, calculative inhale.

One more call can’t hurt.

Levi may not even be working.

Hell, he could be talking to someone else.

A regular.

Several regulars.

For over five minutes you stare down at your most recent calls list, willing yourself to just get brave for one second to press the button.

(It isn’t like Porco’s going to call you.)

The soured thought propels your hand without thinking, fingertip pressing the green phone icon faster than you can think.

You brace for the ringtone, fists balled tight on the cool kitchen surface.

“Thank you for calling the Scout Services Hotline. You’re only a dial away from your wildest fantasies with the sexiest singles near your area. If you already know your match’s extension, press one.”

You continue staring.

Are you really doing this?

It isn’t like it means anything, which is exactly what you need with the upcoming work week.

A distraction.

A very expensive distraction, but hey — you’ll avoid takeout for a few weeks.

How bad can it get?

“If you’re looking for someone specific —”

You press one.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part one of my zany little 'Sleepless in Seattle' modern au! This has been a bluesky idea for a while now, and I needed a little reprieve from my other angsty Levi longfic silver underground, so I hope you enjoyed the ride.

There will be actual smut in part two, but as a Reader!Writer I had the thought of 'would I be suave enough to do the first phone call flawlessly or totally waste my free coupon'? and this chapter was born, lol. I promise this is not Porco slander.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this new series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #fic: press four for more

854 notes · View notes

summercourtship · 5 months ago

Text

WASTE NOT (18+)

or, the reader is travelling with the Ghoul when he discovers she's never fucked before. You figure out what comes next.

cooper howard/the ghoul x reader | warnings/notes: loss of virginity, masturbation, exhibitionism, piv sex, oral sex, barely proofread | side note: i might end up reusing this general plot for a longer multi-chapter fic, we'll see

read on AO3

Five hundred caps, two hundred upfront.

That’s how much it took for you to get out of the gilded cage that was your hometown, a decent sized settlement inside of what used to be a Rodeo stadium and aptly named for it. That’s all it took for you to escape your father, the mayor of said town who kept you under lock and key, both literally and figuratively. You’d tried to escape before, attempts that had been thwarted before they even began. It only led to you being locked in your room and only allowed to walk the town with a bodyguard, someone hired to make sure you didn’t run for it.

Some people might say that it was a privilege to be cared for so much that you didn’t have to constantly fight for your life. You thought it was a surefire way to get you killed when you finally did leave his grasp.

Since running away, you’d done many things for the first time that most people did before they were even ten years old. Held a gun, caught your own food, killed a man.

And the man you’d paid to take you through the wastes was the first ghoul you’d ever met. Your settlement didn’t ban them from entering, but they weren’t exactly welcoming either. But you’d been immediately drawn to him, which you at first chalked up to the novelty of meeting a new kind of person, the kind you’d only read about.

However, as you’d continued traveling with him and the novelty wore off, you quickly realized that the draw you felt to him wasn’t just because of culture shock.

The Ghoul, which was the only thing you called him because he’d given you nothing else to call him, was sitting by the fire he’d built, a slow curl of smoke drifting from the cigarette hanging in his mouth. You looked over at him, observing how the light from the flames reflected off of his worn and imperfect skin. It was a sight you’d seen almost every night this week, but every time you felt like it was the first time you were seeing him.

Your week was almost up. When you’d hired him, you’d told him you only wanted to leave your town for a week, just to experience the Wastes before returning to your “ivory tower,” (his words, not yours). It had taken some bargaining on your end (and you had to give him chems in addition to the caps) but it had worked. You were out of the clutches of your father, you were finally experiencing life for the first time.

And you had no intention of going back when the week was over.

You were sitting across the room, perched on an old bed that was still standing in the half-ruined house, though shack might be more accurate. An entire wall was missing, letting you look right into the starry night sky from your seat. But mainly you were looking at the Ghoul, who was looking after one of his guns. You brought the drink you’d been nursing- just a Nuka-Cola you’d found on your journey and saved for this moment- taking a deep sip of the fizzy drink when he spoke up.

“Stop starin’ at me.”

You choked, sputtering up the Nuka-Cola in your attempt to catch your breath. In your coughing, you only managed to spill more of the drink on yourself, an unfortunate chain of events that left you with a soaked through shirt. You cursed under your breath, looking down at the brown liquid that would surely stain the fabric. Did you even have a clean replacement in your bag?

Leaning towards your bag, you placed the almost empty bottle on the floor before flipping the flap, peering inside.

“You might wanna take that off before the flies smell the sugar.”

Your current task forgotten, you stared up at the Ghoul, who wasn’t even looking at you when he said it. But the idea of taking your shirt off around him when you knew that he could see it was terrifying. However, he was right when he said you’d need to get the shirt off of your body soon and put it into your bag. Who knows how much sugar was in Nuka-Cola, how far its sweet scent would travel if it was out in the open. And you certainly didn’t want to attract any bugs your way.

Sitting up straight, you cleared your throat. Your fingers worried at the hem of your shirt.

“Could you turn around…” Your voice trailed off at the look on his face, a brief glance your way.

“It’s nothing I ain’t seen on other women.”

“Okay, but I’ve never-” You stopped yourself from finishing your sentence, realizing exactly what you were admitting, but the damage was already done. The Ghoul leaned forward and you tightened your grip around yourself, as if the shirt still being on your body would protect you from his judgment.

“You’ve never…?” The pregnant pause hung in the air between you, but you weren’t going to clarify. You didn’t move, which must have been enough of a confirmation for him because he whistled low in his mouth. “Why am I not surprised? You didn’t even know how to shoot a gun.”

As if shooting a gun naturally came before losing your virginity. (Maybe it did, you wouldn’t know).

“Can you stop?” You huffed, your face hot. “If I had wanted to, I would have.”

But it seemed that any of your attempts to get him to drop the subject wouldn’t work, because he was looking at you intensely, an unreadable look in his surprisingly human eyes. Not for the first time, you wondered what he looked like when he was human. You’d tried before, to imagine what it looked like when his skin was smooth and he had a nose and hair, but nothing seemed to match his demeanor as well as being a ghoul did.

“And why didn’t you want to?”

“I-” You swallowed nervously, your heartbeat in your throat choking you. “I didn’t see the point, not when my dad is probably going to marry me off to some geezer who can’t get it up anyway. And I don’t need your judgment about it.”

You were now trying to hold onto any semblance of dignity you had left. Pretending like you’d made a conscious choice to not lose your virginity instead of it being a result of your virtual imprisonment by your father. Like you hadn’t yearned for the touch of someone else. (And, of course, like you hadn’t yearned at all for him over the course of the past week.)

“Do you touch yourself, at least?”

You froze, looking across the room at him like he was a Deathclaw. He leaned forward, perching his elbows on his knees. Like he could smell your apprehension, or worse, your burgeoning arousal.

“Do you touch yourself?”

This isn't something you had talked about ever with anyone. But you couldn’t help answering him. “Y-yes.” If he looked surprised that you actually spoke, you couldn’t tell over your own embarrassment.

“Show me.” When you didn’t respond, still sitting there staring at him like he had grown two heads, he sat back in his seat again, his hat dipping low. “Or don’t. I’m not going to force-”

You cut him off before he could continue, suddenly not wanting this opportunity to pass you by. After all, you only had this last night with him and then you would go your separate ways. If you horribly embarrassed yourself, it would only be for tonight. “Okay.” You think that this is your biggest streak of surprising the Ghoul. But he recovered quickly, a sly grin sneaking onto his face.

“Take your shirt off first.”

Nodding, you slowly reached down to the hem of your shirt, trying and failing to will your hands to stop trembling. Then, quickly, you peeled the sticky fabric off of your skin. You were a bit annoyed that you had managed to spill so much onto the shirt- it was a nice shirt, a rare find on the surface. But it didn’t matter now, considering where it had led you.

You dropped your shirt onto the floor, unable to look at him as he surely looked at your chest.

Suddenly feeling bold from his gaze, you did more than just take off the glorified rag from your chest- you divested yourself of all of your clothes, placing them into a messy pile by the mattress. You were now exposed to the elements and to his gaze, heavy as he looked over your body. Once again, he didn’t betray any of the surprise he might have felt.

“Should I-”

“Lie down.”

You stared at him before you slowly lowered yourself, trying to keep your eyes on him. When you couldn’t anymore, you closed your eyes. If you couldn’t see him, it wouldn’t be nerve wracking to be watched. But even as you thought it, you could feel the heat of his gaze on you.

“Touch yourself.”

At his surprisingly gentle command, you exhaled shakily. Gently, you dragged your hand down your body, your breath quick. After a moment of teasing yourself, you pressed the pads of two fingers against your clit, rubbing a slow circle against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Immediately, you sighed, relieving tension you didn’t know had been building. While you had masturbated every night at home, you certainly needed the relief it gave you after a week of stress and almost dying. You were surprisingly wet, though not enough to qualify as dripping. your fingers circled your clit, your hips sudden bucking slightly.

Across from you, the Ghoul groaned, and you tilted your head up, looking at him. His eyes were entirely focused on your cunt, watching the wet slide of your fingers over your folds. His teeth were clenched together, and you gasped at the sight of him watching you so intently before you bit your lip to muffle the sound. Then his eyes moved from your fingers, looking you straight in the eyes as he started to speak.

“I bet you touched yourself all quiet, trying not to let daddy hear you fucking yourself. But your daddy ain’t here, and I want to hear the noises you make.”

You whined, his words going straight to your cunt. What was more painful was that he was correct- many nights you’d bit your pillow as you’d fucked yourself with your fingers, trying to keep quiet.

“Go ahead, slip a finger inside-“

You stopped moving, looking at him again, taking the moment to catch your breath.

“I’ve never really done that-“

The Ghoul cursed, and before you could blink he was off of his chair, moving closer. He was now knelt in between your legs, his gloved hands on your knees and staring up at you.

“I gotta fuckin teach you everything, don’t I?”

Swiftly, he removed his gloves, throwing them onto the pile of your clothes. Then he swatted your hand away from your cunt before replacing it with his own fingers. At the dramatic shift in skin texture you gasped, immediately grinding against his rough fingers mindlessly as your hands flew to your mouth to muffle your cries.

“None of that, I told you I’m gonna hear the sounds you’re making ‘cause of me.”

He moved down your body, pressing kisses and delivering brief bites to your flesh. With each nip of his teeth you gasped, torn between the desire to push his head away or beg for more. Then he reached your sex, pausing for a moment and letting his warm breath fan over you. You squirmed, unsure if you wanted to beg him to touch you or if you wanted to run away from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all.

Then his mouth was hot against you, his tongue licking a thick stripe up the length of your cunt, and you wondered why you’d ever thought about not letting him do this. With no nose in the way, he was able to press his face fully against you. He dipped his tongue into your opening, flicking it against your walls and thrusting a few times, the movement of his tongue in addition to his fingers overwhelming.

He groaned against you as he lapped up your wetness, sounds of a man dying of thirst reaching an oasis.

With a final wet sound, he removed his tongue before moving to suck on your clit, his hand moving from your thighs to return to your core.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He murmured as he pressed two of his fingers inside of you. You’d tried before to fuck your self like this but always found the feeling unsatisfactory. But his fingers were larger than yours, able to hit the places inside of you that you had begun to think were myths.

It was overpowering, and any thoughts that weren’t about him quickly dissipated.

Every indent and ridge of his skin dragged along your cunt and the sensation of being filled combined with the attention he was giving to your clit started to build you towards your peak.

“Come for me, cmon.”

But even though you’d never come before at the hands of another, you knew what you wanted. You were afraid that if you came now, he wouldn’t actually fuck you. And if you were taken back to your rinky-dink town, you wanted to at least say you’d been fucked by someone you wanted.

“I want to feel you- hm- inside me.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” His teeth were gritted together again, like he was so entirely focused on making you come that he didn't want to hear anything else.

“Yes, I do.” You raised your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers. “I want your cock, I need you to fuck me-“

“Fuck.” He murmured, eyes lidded as whatever shaky resolve about actually fucking you he had broke. “For someone who never killed before this week, you’re dangerous.”

With swift movement, he pulled himself out of his pants and climbed up your body, pressing his hips against yours. He hovered above you, the head of his cock rested heavy on your clit, his hips rolling once to grind the length against your wet cunt.

“Please.” You murmured, raising your hips to meet his cock. He gave you a dark look, and if he had eyebrows you’re sure one of them would be raised as if to say ‘you ready?’

Then he started to press in, his thick head catching before he pushed through the tight ring of your opening. Your mouth was slack, eyebrows furrowed as you focused on relaxing for every inch that was slowly pressing into you. When you looked at him, he was entirely focused on watching his cock disappear into your wet heat.

He was slow, but you didn’t think it was due to any care for your comfort. No, from the look on his face, you would hazard a guess that he enjoyed slowly taking your virginity, feeling each inch of you give way to his thick cock. He liked the surrender.

When his hips finally nestled against yours, he rested for a moment, his breath heavy.

“Ready?”

Okay, maybe he cares slightly about your comfort- the thought was quickly erased when he pulled out and slammed back in, filling you quickly. You cursed, your hands flying to the bed to scramble for something to hold on to. But there were no sheets on the filthy mattress. So instead, you reached up to him, grasping the back of his duster for dear life as he began to fuck you in earnest.

He lowered himself as you wrapped your naked legs around his hips, bracing himself on his elbows above you.

“So fucking tight.” He murmured against your face. One of his hands slipped from where it was braced above you to circle around your clit, the pressure just enough to send you back towards your peak. “This cunt belongs to me now, y’hear?”

“Yes- fuck.” You babbled, and when he whispered against you to finally come, you did so with no hesitation. Your legs gripped him tighter against you, his thrusts shorter but more forceful with the constraint. With your cunt clenching around him as you sighed through the aftershocks of your orgasm, he removed his hand to suddenly grab your chin, looking you in the eyes.

“Where should I-“

“Inside me, inside me please.”

For a moment he looked like he was going to argue with you. But then you clenched down on his length again and his hips stuttered against you, a low groan escaping him. Reinvigorated, he began fucking you even harder, which had seemed impossible.

“Take it, take my cum like a good girl- that’s it-“ his words left him as he finally finished, his hips pumping as he cursed and spilled his warm spend inside you. You hummed at the feeling of it, the tiny thrusts as he pumped you full of him dragging his cock along your sensitive walls.

When he finally pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your opening, he looked back at your face with a sly smile.

“I hope you have some RadAway at home.”

____

The Ghoul didn’t bring you back into the city. He seemed to think you were experienced enough to handle the last hundred yards of desert without him. I’ll come back later for the rest of my caps, I have some business I need to deal with. Did you feel a little bad that you were cheating him out of three hundred caps? Yes. But you hadn’t thought this far when you’d paid him the first time, and now it was too late.

You barely said goodbye.

Once you were out of sight, you took off running in the opposite direction, only looking behind you once to make sure no one was watching or worse, following.

You were free.

____

Well, you were free for about two days.

Then, one evening, you sheltered yourself in an abandoned house. Two stories, though you only peeked in the upper story to see if there was anything worth grabbing. You didn’t want to risk the floor falling out from under your feet.

A noise in the doorway draws your attention upwards, to where the Ghoul stands, silhouetted in the setting sun, like he had just left for a second, not for days.

You’re allowed a split moment of happiness at the sight of the familiar figure before you recognize what's in his hands. You barely have a second to try and escape before, like a flash, he whips the lasso around your torso, drawing it tight and pulling you closer as you struggled against the rope. But it held fast, and with every passing second you were losing ground. Finally the pressure of the rope was too much and you collapsed to the ground, the sun bearing down in your eyes until a shadow fell over your face.

“Y’know, when I went back to your little… Rod-e-o to collect on the final portion of my payment, I really expected to see you there. Tellin’ people you regret ever leaving. Maybe I’d have to rough you up a bit for the caps, though I’m sure you’d enjoy that. So imagine my surprise when I find out your father has put up a reward for whoever finds ya and brings ya back.” He laughed, a cruel and humorless thing. “I’ll get paid for takin’ you out and takin’ you in. And the word around town is that there’s a man there willin’ to take you off your father’s hands.”

His last words made your stomach sink, more than anything else he had said. It was something your father had threatened, even if he hadn’t meant it as a threat. Maybe he thought it was your dream to marry and have children. But you knew that whatever man he picked for you to marry would be powerful, powerful enough to ensure that your father would remain in office until he died.

And powerful men were cruel.

“No-” You gasped out, suddenly out of breath.

“Ah-ah-ah.” The Ghoul tuts softly, leaning down. “D’ya really think a week is enough experience to survive out here?”

“I won’t go back.” You spit, renewing your struggle against the rope. “You can’t make me.”

If you were a complete idiot, you’d say: I’d rather die than go back. Because while, in spirit, it was true, you knew that he would take your word for it. And you really didn’t want to tempt him to put a bullet through your brain.

You may have fucked him, but you certainly weren’t anything special to him.

“You don’t have much of a choice, sweetheart.”

“He wants to marry me off!” You said, like saying it indignantly would change his mind about taking you in as a bounty. “I refuse.”

“And what’ll you do when I drag you back?”

Find a way to escape again, even if it takes years.

Like he read the answer in your eyes, he stood up straight.

“I sympathize, I really do-” You sincerely doubted it, but let him keep talking, “but unless you’ve got something better to offer me, I’m afraid you’re going in.”

“How many caps is he offering you?”

“600.”

“I have more saved.” You laughed, though it lacked any actual humor. “Every cap he gave me for years, I’ve squirreled away. Not letting me leave my room really helped me save money.”

“And how, exactly, are you going to get to your stash without your daddy finding you?”

You tried to find kindness in his words and were surprised when you did. Though he may not have meant it, he had already given you a perfect out the night before.

“No self-respecting man is going to want to marry a woman who fucked a ghoul. And no mayor will tolerate his daughter making a fool of him like that.”

For a moment, you think he takes offense to this. But then a smile creeps across his face, hot and hungry.

“Well then, I think we can come to an agreement.”

#don't let this flop #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout #fallout series #fallout fanfic #reader insert #my writing #lemon #it is 7:30

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babygorewhore · 4 months ago

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Imagine Jax teller catching you touching yourself.

Warnings! Female masturbation! Degrading! Perv! Reader! Hair pulling! Pussy slapping! Praise! Unprotected sex! Oral fem receiving! Short and sweet

You bit your lip as you snuck into Jax’s room. Abel was fast asleep in his crib so it wasn’t that you didn’t completely abandon your responsibility. Your core ached as you flopped on his bed. Jax hired you to watch his son last week after meeting you at the hospital. You were in nursing school and five years younger than Jax.

You fell for his fucking charm, killer smile and bad ass attitude. It didn’t help that underneath all his problems, he was kind to you. Your crush on him grew because every morning when you got there, laptop in your bag for your classes, he hugged you tightly against his strong body. He smelled like fresh laundry and cigarettes.

Today before he left, Jax kissed your forehead goodbye and you swore you’d explode in your pants as you watched his back.

As you laid on his mattress, you brought one of his shirts to your nose and inhaled. You rubbed your thighs together, a needy throb in your pussy. Your fingers circled your swollen clit, precum dripping between your thighs as you whined and kept smelling the shirt. You wished Jax was here, flipping you around with his strong hands. You wanted to feel him pull your hair, bring you to all fours as he pounds you from behind.

Slipping two digits in your cunt, you curl them upward as you throw your head back and moan. Turning on your stomach, you mewl as you smush your face on his pillow. You hump your hand, growing closer as you whimper his name and spill onto your fingers. Breathing heavily, you blink away your high and flip back over on your back.

“Don’t stop on my account, doll.” You could have died right then and there at the sight of Jax teller standing in his doorway. Leaning against the frame.

Your heart stopped and you actually threw his shirt across the room. “Oh god. I am so sorry, I-“ you began stuttering and trying to think of an explanation but Jax only gave you a smirk.

“Gotta say darlin, I’m flattered but you could have just asked. No need to sneak in here when you could have just come to me.” He drawls and steps forward.

You curl your knees to your chest as Jax places both hands on the bed. Leaning down, he tilts his head and examines your bare legs. Your panties were still haphazard and you quickly covered yourself with your palms.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s probably grossing you out-“ You try and explain but Jax raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, that’s not what I’m feeling. I’m feeling like…” Jax crawls to you, his baggy jeans caging either side of your hips as he hovers above you. “I want to feel that pussy squeeze my dick.”

You swallow nervously as Jax brushes his lips to yours, his beard tickling your skin. “Do you want that, darlin?”

Instead of answering, you met his mouth with crushing force. Gripping his shirt tightly, you pulled him down chest to chest and wrapped your legs around his waist. Jax pulled your lower lip with his teeth and traveled down to kiss your neck. He sucked softly at the skin as you buried your hands in his blonde strands.

“You feel so good,” You whispered as he peels off your underwear, he gives your pussy a smack causing you to gasp.

“Your pussy is fuckin mine. I’m going to fuck you until you black out and you only remember my name.” Jax growls and he flips you over. You groan, gripping the sheets as he gives your ass a hard slap.

Jax presses into you from the back, his dick pulsing as he thrusts hard enough to make the entire bed shift. You bite down on your hand as he rubs your clit with his fingers. “You like that baby doll? You like being a little pervert?”

You can’t even make noise as Jax yanks you back by the hair and gropes your tit as he humps into you. “Tell me. Tell me you’re a pathetic little slut.”

“I’m-I’m a pathetic-little slut.” You hiccup as he groans in satisfaction. Jax feels you cream around his dick, your vision goes white but unexpectedly he pulls out. You shudder in protest before you bury your face in the bed to conceal a scream.

Jax shoves his face in your cunt from behind, lapping up all your cum leaking. His tongue flattens against your clit and you’re so overwhelmed tears prick your eyes.

“Aww, crying already? Poor baby. First you sneak in here and now you can’t hold it together. Looks like I’m going to have to teach you properly.”

@xxbimbobunnyxx @redhead1180 @hornyxdreams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @olivia-moo @rafesthroatbaby

#Jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #Jax teller x fem reader #Jax teller smut #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy smut #sons of anarchy x reader

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op-81-lvr · 3 months ago

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F1 X Reader; Role Reversal series Masterlist

I keep seeing these and I am such a whore for them so I though I might give writing one a go! If anyone has any ideas I could add feel free to drop them in my inbox is open

Reader is a driver in all fics, they pretty much just steal their partners career because it’s just easier to make things flow instead of rejigging the grid completely.

I have a million other works I could be posting right now but this idea has been plaguing my thoughts

~ 💶 Teamprincible!Max Verstappen x Fem!reader

Formula 2 retiree Max Verstappen becomes the new team principal for Red Bull, making him the youngest principal on the grid. He comes with the goal of getting you your fourth championship.

~ 💪🏻 PhysicalTherapist!Oscar Piastri x Male!reader

When you get into a pretty horrific crash that costs you the rest of the season Oscar is there to pick up the pieces and help nurse your leg back to health.

~ 📸 Photographer!Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Lando Norris is a famous photographer for TIME magazine. It just so happens that his girlfriend wins woman of the year the year he is set to take the photo shoot.

~ 💍 TrophyHusband!Charles Leclerc x Male!reader

Charles Leclerc-(L/N) lives a lavish life, he has his dog and his rich husband whos job allows him to travel around the world. He gets on with the other WAGs and becomes something of an icon.

~ 🧁 Baker!Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader

Carlos Sainz owns a sweet little bakery in a small little town in Spain, you being in Spain for the Barcelona GP decided to go exploring and stumble across this quaint little bakery (Much to your nutritionalists distress) .

~ ✂️ Stylist!Lewis Hamilton x Male!reader

Your PR team is fed up of their 7 time world champion showing up to the paddock dressed in nothing but team kit so they hire a stylist for you.

~ 🔪 Profiler!George Russell x Fem!reader

(Changed from Journalist!George Russell)

You and George have tried to keep your relationship under wraps what with you being in the public eye and him working for a government agency. That is until drivers begin being targeted at Silverstone. (Loosely based on my current criminal minds obsession except George works for the NCA and not the FBI)

~ 🍜 Food blogger!Yuki Tsunoda x Masc!Reader

While traveling around the world with you for Grand Prix Yuki takes advantage of the different cultures and cuisines to add to his food blog that he runs.

~ 🐾 Veterinarian!Alex Albon x Fem!Reader

Alex Albon is the best boyfriend anyone could possibly ask for. He is such a softie especially around your two cats and especially when he’s taking care of them while you’re travelling for work.

~ 🎞️ Actor!Daniel Riccardo x Male!Reader

(Request!) Daniel Riccardo meets you at an event and instantly just assumes you are another product of nepotism (which may not be totally incorrect). However as the night goes on and you become closer (and drunker) Daniel is absolutely smitten with the F1 driver before him

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x reader #x reader #fic ideas #f1 x male reader #f1 #f1 x you

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jezabelle9299 · 5 months ago

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Caretaker S.R x fem!Reader

Reader is hired as a live-in caretaker for Diana. Describes when she accidentally flooded the apartment, but I kind of mess with canon and plot. Could kind of take place after prison other than that. Diana ships Reader and Spencer. Reader is a graduate student in an online program.

C-Ws: Diana slaps reader, descriptions of alzheimer's and schizophrenia, Spencer is not used to people trying to take care of him and thinks he'll scare away reader.

(I've worked in a memory care/assisted living facility, and have a few relatives with alzheimer's and schizophrenia. But this is based on my still somewhat limited experience. And I have no medical experience, mostly just hospitality and comfort based work)

You had finally gotten to the address the agency gave you, after waiting a short eternity in the Washington traffic. It was a live-in caretaker job of a woman with schizophrenia and alzheimer's, living also with her son who traveled often for work. Your contact at the agency said the son, Dr. Reid was very nice and was ok with your slightly more limited experience. You buzzed and after a little while the man you assumed to be Dr.Reid came to the door.

“Hi, you must be Ms.Y/L/N from the agency, I’m so glad you’re here.” He looked both shocked and relieved, like he thought you wouldn’t actually show up. While you were trying not to notice (Or at least trying not to show) that you thought the doctor was particularly gorgeous. But he would not only functionally be your employer, but also a sort of roommate. Plus you really wanted this job, you were a little new to being a live in caretaker after working in assisted living facilities since high school. You were in a grad program now, one you were completing online that allowed you to have caretaking as your career.

“I’m happy to be here! You must be Dr.Reid?”

“I am, and this is my mother Diana Reid.” He gestured to the woman on the couch, who had yet to even look at you. I mean you were kind of invading her house, so you couldn’t blame her. But you were determined to make her like you, I mean this job is a huge opportunity, and as you were new to the city the live in position was a two-birds-one-stone situation.

“Hi Ms. Reid, I’m Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you. Your son has told me so much about you.” You gave her a nervous wave as you walked in front of the couch, still attempting to give her space while being in her line of sight.

“I’m sure he has. I don’t need a stranger hovering over me.” She then stormed into the adjoining room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Dr.Reid attempted to chase after her, finding the door locked from the inside and calling out to her.

“Mom, please just meet her! You’ve chased off every other nurse from the agency!” he got no reply, and solemnly turned back towards you. He was exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and he looked utterly dejected.

“I’m sorry to waste your time, I understand if you’d like to leave.”

“I’ll stay, unless you’d like me to leave.” confusion and hope clouded his expression, you weren’t giving up that easy.

“That was just a first meeting, I get that she doesn’t want me in her space, but she might warm up to me. Plus, one of the best ways for me to get to know her right now is through you.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much. Today is one of her worse days, she’s not usually like this I swear.” He looked elated at the fact you didn’t leave so you knew you were getting the job. He just needed the help too much, and you were determined to get this woman to like you. From what Dr.Reid had already told you over the phone, she seemed like a wonderful woman you’d actually really like to know. She just had to not hate you first.

“It’s ok, just a bad day. I totally understand she’s upset. Why don’t you and I talk until she comes out?”

“Yes, here have a seat, and I’ll grab you some water.” He hurriedly cleared some books off the couch so you could sit, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a glass of water a few moments later. While he was gone you pulled your work notebook and some pens out so you could take some notes.

“Thank you Dr. Reid, that’s really sweet.”

“Of course, and you can call me Spencer.”

“Alright, really quick just like my experience and such, I’m sure the agency told you most of it. I’m a little new to being a live-in caretaker, but I have experience at a couple assisted living facilities. I’ve taken care of a few family members with schizophrenia as well as alzheimers so I have experience with that as well. I’m a graduate student so I’ll work on some classwork during times when your mother is resting but it’s all online so it shouldn’t interfere with anything.”

He nodded along patiently as you basically read him your resume, and then responded in kind. “That all sounds great, I travel as part of my work so I may be gone for a few days to a week at a time, but it should never be for too long, and as this is a live-in position I’ll leave a card you can use for anything you or my mother need while I’m gone.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. So, could you run me through a regular day for your mother? Just all of it, the activities she likes, medications, food times, all that good stuff so I can be prepared, and not change her routine too much.” You bounced back and grabbed a pen to start taking notes to help you remember all of the information.

“Absolutely, yeah. Does this mean that you’ll take the job?” He looked so full of hope at the sentiment.

“If you’re offering, then yes I’d love to. I can start whenever you’re ready.” He lit up and pulled you into a hug you were not at all prepared for. He smelled really good, which was only made more noticeable by the sharp inhale you took in surprise of the gesture.

“Oh. Hi.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say during the hug to cut the tension you were feeling. He clearly took this as discomfort and pulled away.

“Sorry, I jus- Thank you. That is amazing, thank you so much.”

“Of course, I really need to thank you for the opportunity. I look forward to getting to know your mom.”

You talked about different logistics, as well as him giving you a short tour of the house before you had to leave, before Diana would re-emerge. You started the next day, with Spencer there to start to ease the transition in the morning. After he left you and Diana, confident that she was having a good day, he headed for work.

Diana did not have a good day after getting some rest after lunch. She needed to take one more medication, but when she woke up, she didn’t remember you. At least not as you the person her son hired to take care of you, she thought that you were using her son to get information on her. She thought you were there to manipulate the both of them, so when you offered her medication she wouldn’t take it.

You did all you could do, you waited. And then after a short window had passed you gave her a drink with her medication in it, which after she drank, she realized it was the medication. She called you a fascist, and then unfortunately, slapped you. This wasn’t the first time a confused elderly person had gotten physical with you, so you attempted to keep your professionalism in tact. She ran to the bedroom, and you sat against the wall, reading to her from a collection of poetry Spencer said she loved.

When you went to check on her and she was safely asleep, you continued cleaning the mess from the previous day. A small flood spread through the apartment, damaging several books and leaving towels littered around the room after Spencer had collapsed from exhaustion about the time you finished unpacking for the night. Spencer came home about the same time, to towels freshly in the wash, and you attempting to start repairing the books. You had a friend who was a librarian, and between a phone call with her and extensive research on the internet you’d made some progress. Books were spread out around you, in various states of drying and re-drying. You only noticed when you heard the door shut that he had come home, not hearing the key turn in the lock like you thought you would.

“Hi.”

“Hi, uh-what are you doing?” He was carrying a leather satchel that he was now setting on his desk, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. His brow cocked in confusion as he looked at you.

“Oh, I noticed the books that got damaged, and your mother is still resting so I thought I’d get started on the drying process. I promise I asked my friend, she’s a librarian so that I wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Wow, that is really sweet, thank you Y/N. I really appreciate it.” He was walking closer to where you were sitting on the floor in the living room, carefully avoiding the spread-out books.

“How’s mom doing? Did the rest of the day go alright?” He turned on the lamp by the couch, before moving a few of the books to sit. You had just started talking about his mother’s day, when his expression completely changed. He noticed the small mark on your face, and sprang off the couch, moving to the floor near you.

“What happened?” You didn’t realize what he was talking about immediately, looking down to see if something was wrong you hadn’t noticed. When he gestured toward his own cheek, you remembered.

“Oh yeah, Diana woke up from her nap after lunch and she got a little confused. She thought I was someone else, and that I was trying to get information about her. She slapped me, but it’s really no big deal. She just got confused is all.

“No. No, that most certainly is a big deal.” He said it firmly, like there was no room for argument. But you jumped to yours, and his mothers, defense.

“It’s really not. It’s common when alzheimers or dementia patients wake up not knowing where they are. She didn’t mean anything by it, I read to her, through the door, that poetry collection you mentioned yesterday. I think she liked it, and she felt better after she took her meds, she at least got some more rest.”

“That’s great- but I don’t want you to feel trapped here. If something isn’t alright, you can tell me, and I would understand if you wanted to leave.” You nodded to let him know you understood, and then followed it up with leaning back against the front of the couch and a small smile.

“You know if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.” Your attempt to lighten the mood was not really helping.

“No!-Believe me, that is not what I was saying. I really appreciate you helping my mom and I out, but I just want you to be here because you want to be.”

“Well thank you, Spencer. But it’s really ok. It doesn’t even hurt, I promise.” You made a small cross-your-heart motion to convey the truth of your sentiment.

Now, why don’t you help me with these books, while I switch out laundry.” you pat him on the shoulder as you walked by. The first time the two of you had touched since the hug he thought had made you uncomfortable. His sweater was soft under your skin, his shoulders firm. But you kept walking, you were on the clock after all.

When you walked back you started gathering the restored books to put back, and tried to get back to work related conversation, or at least tangentially related to work. “Alright, towels are in the dryer, and I’m sorry I can’t quite figure out what your system is for these books. Could you point me in the direction of where these go?” You gestured to the small stack in your arms, and he immediately got up.

“It’s a combination of the dewey decimal system, and a little bit moved around based on sentimentality, I can put these away. Thank you again for helping me dry them. I know it’s not really in your job description.” Ok has no one helped this man? He is very over appreciative of the little things, and he looks like he’s scared you’ll run away any second. It’s sweet, but my god.

“I like to be helpful, and there was also a little selfish motivation. I was curious about your taste in books. I mean you have so many, I had to be a little nosey.” You kind of attempted to add a flirtatious tone, but you were still hoping this crush would go away. This was a job, and it would be nice if you didn’t get overly attached to him. Although it was a little late for that.

“I don’t know if i’d call it nosey, it’s nice that you’re curious. What did you think?” He was looking between you and the floor, while blushing. Maybe he liked you too. Wouldn’t that be nice.

“I mean I’m no profiler, but I can take a guess.” He had told you about his job and what it entailed as it required him to be gone for long periods of time. So you kept the flirty undertone, somewhat under the guise of silliness, as you two moved closer together, whether consciously or otherwise.

“I think you read A LOT. Like more than I probably could in a lifetime, and since I know you don’t exactly have excesses of freetime, you have incredible reading comprehension. Speed reader maybe? And some were in a few different languages, so maybe a linguistics major in college? Could be your doctorate. Also the style of the books is contributing to the apartment both functionally and as a decoration. They’re as much comfort objects as they are entertainment. So if I had to guess, you were a shy kid who read a lot.”

“Alright, not bad at all. Although my doctorates are in mathematics, engineering, and chemistry. The languages are easier because I have an eidetic memory. I am a speed reader, as our subconscious minds can process significantly more than our conscious minds.” There was one part consciously left out. He couldn’t have forgotten, he told you so himself. But you couldn’t resist, you wanted to know him. More than accomplishments and accolades.

“And the last part?” He looked upset, and you regretted asking it. It must have really bothered him, really been over the line.

“Yes, I was a big reader as a kid. I was a prodigy so making friends wasn’t easy, and I’m sure you noticed I’m kind of- well- odd.” odd? I mean interesting, or extraordinary sure, but odd wasn’t the word you’d use. It felt so…negative.

“I don’t think you’re odd. The prodigy aspect makes sense though, especially since I know you have 3 doctorates instead of the 1 I assumed you had. Also, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of speaking from experience. I had more books than friends when I was little too.” You were sharing a small smile as you stood near the wooden shelves, until you heard the bedroom door open, and you stepped away from each other, gaining back the space you lost.

“Hi Diana, did you sleep ok? Is there anything I can get you?” She gently shook her head, confused, but piecing it together as she woke up.

“No, thank you. Spencer, who's your friend? Is she- is she your girlfriend?” She spoke in a hushed tone for the last part, like it was a fun secret between the 3 of you.” He looked like an embarrassed teenager, as he turned toward his mother.

“No, mom. This is Y/N, she’s taking care of you, you guys spent the day together?” She started to understand, but kept giving Spencer a look like she didn’t quite believe him.

After you cooked dinner, something Spencer also tried to convince you wasn’t necessary. Seems like he wasn’t used to being taken care of. You cleaned the kitchen, giving Spencer some time with his mom before you all resigned to bed. You didn’t cross paths again for a few days, with Spencer leaving before dawn for a case.

When he returned a few days later, after many call and text updates on his mothers condition (that occasionally strayed to more personal topics of your life, but you wrote it off as him being polite) he found you and his mom sitting on the couch, like the best of friends flipping through her scrapbook as she told you stories from Spencer's childhood. It was a good exercise to keep her mind sharp, as well as helping her feel more comfortable with you.

“Hi Spencer, how was work?” He looked confused, and he was moving cautiously like he didn’t want to disturb the fleeting moment of happiness. His mother was happy, and the woman he had an ill-advised crush on were spending time together. In his home. It was perfect.

“It was good, it looks like you two had a good day?” His mother nodded her approval, and gestured for him to sit down.

“We did. Your mother read me some of her favorite books. And I didn’t know you could do magic! We were just looking through her wonderful scrapbook.” You directed the last part to Diana, wanting her to know how much you appreciated her trust. Spencer had the same embarrassed teenager look he did the previous day.

“I’m glad you’re home Spencer, but it is late and I’m going to go get some rest.” His mother got up from the couch, and gave him a hug goodnight. Once she had disappeared back into the bedroom, you turned your attention back to Spencer.

“There’s a plate for you in the fridge if you’re hungry by the way.” He still looked surprised, like he couldn’t believe you’d cook for him when he wasn’t even home.

“Thank you, I have to finish a little bit more paperwork, but that sounds wonderful.”

“It’s really no problem, I hope you like it. But before you start your paperwork, I’d like to request a magic trick.” He seemed perpetually confused. And he was. He couldn’t believe you, so happy, so sweet, and so kind. You wanted to see his dorky magic tricks and fix his books and talk to his mom. He knew you were being paid, but it wasn’t that much. Not enough for most people to go this far above and beyond. This was all you.

“You really want to see my magic?”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen a magic trick in person, that’s really cool. And it’s a little easier to practice inside than the trapeze.” You both laughed, and his blush grew even deeper. He grabbed a set of cards from a prized spot on his bookshelf, part of the very small space not crowded with actual books.

He offered the cards, fanned out to you and asked you to pick one. You picked the ace of hearts.

He pulled the 2 of diamonds, looking confident for maybe the first time since you met him. “Is this your card?” A part of you really wanted to lie. He looked so happy, but you just muttered a quiet no. He tried again, looking confused as to how he got it wrong the first time. This time he pulled the 6 of clubs

“Is this your card?” You shook your head and he flipped through the deck, cards still facing down. Looking through as if something was missing, his brow furrowing as he did. You could see the moment realization struck, it was as if a cartoon lightbulb appeared over his head.

He leaned toward you and your breath hitched. Once your faces were so close you could’ve leaned forward and made contact, he pulled the correct card from your hair. And when he held it up for you, he smiled when you lit up.

“Is this your card?” He spoke a lot quieter now, and he moved the little bit of hair that had fallen into your face during the trick back over your shoulder. When you thought you’d explode if he stayed this close without moving any closer, he did. His stubble grazed your face as he connected your lips. His were a little bit chapped, but they still felt soft the way he moved them. He sighed when he pulled away and you were worried you did something wrong.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so-so sorry.”

“Why? I mean I know why the situation isn’t ideal, but why are you sorry?”

“Because you are currently relying on me not only for employment but for a place to stay, and I shouldn’t have just put that pressure on you. I lost control, and I’m so sorry. I understand if I made you uncomfortable.” He sat back down on the couch, but this time you followed him. You really liked him, even though you’d only known him a couple of days.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I don’t feel pressured, and I didn’t kiss you back because I’m currently staying in your house. I kissed you back because I wanted to, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you hugged me when I accepted the job.” He finally looked back at you, with those big brown puppy dog eyes, and you grabbed his hand.

“Really? Are you sure you want that?”

“Certain. Spencer, I really like you. And if you like me too, then we can talk about how that would work logistically. We could figure something out. If you don’t want that or don’t feel the same way, we can forget about this. We never have to talk about it again, and we can just keep it professional.”

“No!” He rushed out, his voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture and started again. “I don’t want that, I do like you too. And I definitely want to figure this out.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. He liked you too. It felt so high school, but that made you want to either squeal with joy, or tackle him onto the couch.

You settled on a cool neither, instead giving him a kiss on the nose as you got up from the couch. And he watched you, hesitantly letting your hand go, like he thought you said all that just to leave.

“We are definitely having that conversation…tomorrow. You haven’t eaten and, cute as you may be, you look like you haven’t slept in days. So we will finish this tomorrow, whenever you’re ready.” You pulled his plate from the fridge, placing it in the microwave so that he could eat something. He looked at you like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars.

“You think I’m cute?”

“Yes Dr. Hot stuff, I think you’re cute. I thought we just went over this?” He blushed even more at the doctor comment. You looked at each other until the timer snapped you out of it. You set the plate on the table and wished him a goodnight, as you moved to the guest bedroom. You couldn’t sleep, you were so excited. But you wanted him to be in the best possible headspace, this was a big decision.

When Spencer finished his dinner and his paperwork he moved to the master bedroom, still buzzing with excitement. When he closed the door his mother stirred. She spoke quietly, still half asleep.

“Spencer, you really should take Y/N out. I think she has a little crush on you. And you deserve someone who can take care of you.” Then she drifted back to sleep, but Spencer was still beaming.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom

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chestharrington · 7 months ago

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Infatuation || Gator Tillman x Reader

Part One: Fixation

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: SMUT (f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v), mild/implied stalking, abuse of power, brief non-sexual choking, harassment, slut shaming, misogyny, unplanned pregnancy, implied/referenced abortion, unhappy/ambiguous ending

Summary: As you face the consequences of your unsatisfying encounter with Gator, he finds new ways to worm his way into your life, for better or worse.

A/N: Here is the highly requested part two :) Thanks for all the love, and I hope you enjoy! This can be read as a finale of sorts to this story, but if there is interest I can write a "wrap up" epilogue :) Anyways, enjoy!

As it turns out, Gator Tillman beating the guy you were dancing on within an inch of his life wasn’t exactly good for your career. And the fact that you had technically stolen that guy’s money was the shit icing on the shit cake.

The club was crowded, maybe more so than you were used to, but you couldn’t find a single patron who wanted you for a dance, or a private dance, or even a second of eye contact.

And, really, you should have seen it coming just based on the general trajectory of your life, but by the end of the night, you were fired. Apparently, that stint with the realtor and Gator had harmed the stellar reputation of the business. That was bullshit anyway. Like, four people had OD’d in the bathrooms, and plenty of old guys had heart attacks on the floor.

The problem wasn’t that the realtor got the shit beat out of him. No, plenty of guys came in, got drunk, and wanted to prove how tough they were. The problem was Gator, but, more than that, it was a fear of the Tillman’s getting too close.

You left the club with maybe thirty dollars in tips and a box full of your shit, which you unceremoniously dumped into the trunk of your car. It was past five in the morning, which meant the sun would start creeping over the horizon soon enough.

As you drove back into town, you couldn’t help but pull over at the twenty-four-hour diner. The homey interior glowed through the windows like a siren song to weary travelers. It always smelled like coffee and grease, and there were always oldies playing on the jukebox. You sat down in a booth and practically melted into the seat.

The older woman taking your order seemed nice enough, though there wasn’t anything about working at the asscrack of dawn that brought a smile to anyone’s face.

“Does Sarah still work here?” You asked, glancing back behind the counter.

“Quit.”

Well, there was that. Your ex-husband’s skanky mistress wouldn’t be showing her face to ruin your night (or, technically, your day) even further.

There was a sign on the counter— Now Hiring! Probably in Sarah’s position, if you had to wager a guess. You chewed on the inside of your lip. It wouldn’t be glamorous, but it would be a hell of a lot better than it had been at the club.

“You’re really hiring?” You eventually asked the older waitress as you nursed a cup of hot chocolate. When she brought out your meal— a big stack of pancakes and the greasiest pile of hash browns the world had ever seen— she placed an application and pen down right beside it.

They really must’ve been desperate, because you got the call the following afternoon that they’d like to interview, and even that wasn’t formal. You walked in, got a three-page employee “manual”, and that was that.

Things seemed to be getting better… at first. A new job that had significantly fewer creeps, and free food once a shift. You got to wear flat shoes and real clothes, which was also a plus. A little less money in your pocket, but it was more stable.

Occasionally, you’d get a tipper who thought it was cute to leave a fake $100 bill with a bible verse on the other side, or an old man grabbing at your tits and ass “accidentally.” Spills and messes were more frequent than you expected— and usually wound up on your apron or soaking through your shoes.

The good with the bad. You had to keep reminding yourself to take the good with the bad.

It was a few weeks of getting on your feet before Stark County’s finest walked through the doors, boisterous and loud. You hadn’t noticed, hadn’t even thought to consider that Gator might visit the town’s best source for greasy comfort food.

When you came out from the back of the diner, your eyes caught him immediately, sitting in your section. You swallowed, grabbed your order pad and a pen, and approached.

“Good mornin’, officers.” He looked up at the sound of your voice, a sly grin spreading across his features. “Do y’all know what you want, or can I run through the menu for you?”

One of the other men just snapped his fingers at you. “Coffee all around.”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll get that right out.”

You heard them snickering as you left, accompanied by loud whispers of don’t you know who that is?

Gator was staring at you, maybe he had been the entire time and you just hadn’t let yourself look. “We’ve missed you at the club, sweetheart. Wanna give us a twirl for old time’s sake?” His grin was smarmy as he looked you up and down, reaching over the table to place down the mugs of coffee. Your blouse gaped open, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage and a remarkably unsexy comfy bra.

As you reached to place the last mug down, Gator slapped your ass hard, making you spill the hot coffee across the table. His little friends laughed as your face burned hot. You did your best to mop up the mess of coffee, but it wasn’t enough and the table was left sticky and gross.

“You’re not gonna get a good tip if you’re so clumsy,” one of them said with a grin, holding up a dollar bill. It felt slimy, like you were back in the club entertaining them for singles.

An hour later, you had coffee and grits spilled on you, as well as a plate accidentally knocked off the table to shatter on the floor. They laughed at you on your hands and knees, picking up pieces of the china from the black and white tiled floor. And at the end of it all, unsurprisingly, there was no tip, no thank you, no anything.

You wish you would’ve spit in their food, but there was always next time. And you knew there was gonna be a next time.

But Gator didn’t like sharing, especially not his playthings. One morning of watching his friends make your life hell had been enough, you supposed. The next time they came in, they were nothing but respectful. All yes ma’am, no ma’am, thank you ma’am. The message was clear enough. He wanted you all to himself.

After a day on your feet, all you wanted to do was watch a shitty reality show on the couch you’d stolen from your ex-husband. You smelled like the deep fryer, which made you nauseous, but you knew if you took a shower, you’d pass out shortly after.

There was a loud knock on your door that nearly made you jump out of your skin. You stood, wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, and opened the door just a crack.

“We got a tip that you might be harboring illegal contraband on the premises.” Gator was leaning against your doorframe like he owned the place, his foot carefully wedged between the door so you couldn’t slam it closed.

You grit your teeth. What bullshit. “You don’t have a search warrant, asshole.”

He gave a careless shrug. “Eh, maybe I don’t, but who fuckin’ cares about that?”

You stood firm, holding the door in place as best as you could while he pushed against it. “Gator, no. Whatever game this is, I don’t wanna play. I have a headache, and I’m exhausted, so—” He gave a firm push on the door, and your strength failed you. You fell to the side as he barreled his way in, making a beeline towards your bedroom.

The door slammed shut, followed by the click of the lock turning. With a groan, you went for the coat closet and retrieved a wire hanger that you could finagle the lock with. After a moment, the lock clicked again and you pushed your way into the room.

What the fuck? He was rifling through your dresser drawers, tossing things onto the ground at random. You doubted he was even really looking for anything in particular. Gator’s priority, above all, was to be a creepy nuisance.

“Gotta be thorough,” he said with a smarmy grin, finally recognizing your presence. “Interfere, and I’m bringing you in for obstruction.” Like the perv he was, he was digging through your panties, grabbing handfuls of lace and cotton. He continued on, throwing things onto the floor just to piss you off. After he’d successfully wrecked one dresser, he moved to the nightstand.

He smiled victoriously and dumped the contents of the drawer onto your bed. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment at the sight of your modest collection of sex toys, right there for him to see.

“There we are. This goes against the city ordinance prohibiting the ownership of more than two personal pleasure devices,” he said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not a thing,” you argued with a scoff.

He grinned. “Oh, it is. My dad worked to codify an ordinance to fight obscenity. And Jesus Christ, sweetheart, this is obscene.” He surveyed the pile picking up the devices with amusement and a hint of disgust. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ fiend by the looks of it. What’s this even do?”

You grabbed at the vibrator in his hand, but he held it up above your head with a grin. “You’re a fuckin’ pervert,” You hissed.

He pressed a button and it buzzed to life, which only made his amusement grow. “You know, if you found yourself a man, you wouldn’t need any of this shit.”

You rolled your eyes at the notion. Half that stuff was collected during your marriage, not that it mattered. Jack was worse in bed than he was at being faithful. You grew to relish in the nights when he was in some other woman’s arms and you could finally find some release.

And you especially relished an opportunity to relax and relieve stress when Gator was hellbent on ruining your fucking life, which was all the time.

You crossed your arms and glared up at him. “That’s a crazy thing for you to say considering you didn’t even bother to get me off.”

He wrinkled his face in annoyance, dropping the vibrator back onto the bed. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about? You came probably, like, three times.”

You could have laughed. “Whatever. Just write the goddamn citation and leave me alone.”

“Maybe I’m concerned about you,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, if you’ve got this many sex toys, that’s some kind of perversion or somethin’. You’re sick in the head. What kind of officer would I be if I punished you for that?”

He grabbed another one off your bed, a rabbit vibrator this time, which only seemed to confuse him more. “Besides, I don’t think you can really afford the fine for breaking this law. I mean, with what you’ve got here, you’re looking at thousands.”

Anger flooded your veins. “Bullshit,” You snapped. “You’re lying.”

“I mean, you can find out tomorrow,” he replied with another stupid fucking shrug. “Or I can forget I ever saw ‘em. Up to you.”

You swallowed hard, already getting a warm, overbearing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like your body wasn't sure if it wanted to jump his bones or kill him. “And what exactly would make you do that?”

He smiled, showing off his canines. “I mean… now I’m a little curious. Tell me how you use some of ‘em.” He waved the rabbit in his hand. “This one especially. Looks like some kind of fucked up torture device.”

You huffed with annoyance and reached up, grabbing it from his hands. “This one, I mean… this part goes in, and this part stays out.” You explained with vague gestures toward the toy. You grabbed another off the bed. “And this one is, like, just a standard, like, you know. It buzzes. And that one like, kind of thrusts a little bit. I—I don’t know what the fuck else to tell you.” Just seeing him standing there beside the toys made your brain go a little fuzzy with desire and mortification.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of you. “I think I’m more of a visual learner, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low. He reached up, brushing a lock of your hair from your face, and you did your best not to lean into his touch. Why did you want that? “So why dontcha take off your clothes, lay back, and do a little show and tell, huh?”

The moment of hesitation in your brain dissolved in an instant. You wrinkled your face in disgust and shoved him back. “Ugh. Fuck that, and fuck you.”

Anger flashed across his face, only for a moment, before he masked it with his usual shithead attitude. “Oh… I get it,” he said, looking down at you. “Probably on your period with all the attitude you’re givin’ me. Forget it, I don’t even wanna see that nasty shit.”

You narrowly avoided him as he shoved past you, heading back towards the door. The scales of kiss versus kill had firmly tilted towards the latter at his last comment. Anger unlike anything you’d ever felt flooded your veins.

Without thinking, you grabbed a book off of the coffee table in the living room and threw it at him as hard as you could. It collided with the back of his head and he swore loudly.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” His hand went to the crown of his head and came back covered in blood. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid bitch?” You grabbed another book and raised a brow in challenge. “Whatever, you’re not even worth it anyway.”

He slammed the door on his way out. The squeal of his tires as he peeled out was music to your ears.

Later, you sighed as you collapsed atop your bed, exhausted from the long process of cleaning up the disaster he’d left in your room. But despite how tired you felt physically, your mind was still racing with thoughts of Gator.

The worst person you’d ever met, who somehow still managed to light every single one of your cells aflame with need. You didn’t want to be with him, obviously. He reminded you of all the worst parts of your ex-husband. And yet… you were staring at the ceiling thinking about the next time you’d see him and all the bitchy things you could get away with saying to him.

With a huff, you reached into your bedside table and grabbed the first vibrator you could get your hands on— simple, without any bells and whistles. Whatever. You were pissed at yourself as you stripped off your pajamas, then your bra… and then your panties.

Stupid fuckin’ man. Your head fell back against your pillows as soon as the vibrator touched your clit, and you couldn’t help the whiny moan that escaped your lips. Your free hand rested on your breast, kneading softly until it wasn’t enough anymore.

Your legs spread wider, hips canting up to seek out more as you began pinching and tugging at your nipples. The plain vibe wasn’t close cutting it, even at its highest setting. All it was good for was working you up to the point of dripping with arousal and needing more.

You clicked it off and sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were a little sick in the head. Why else would you be thinking about him right then?

You reached back into the drawer, fumbling blindly until you retrieved the rabbit. It slid in without any resistance with how worked up you were, and you let out a contented sigh at the full feeling.

The second you turned it on, it felt like liquid electricity was dancing through your veins. The external vibrator was positioned just right, so intense that your thighs were trembling.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, back arching slightly. Maybe you could’ve let him watch you. It would’ve taught the asshole what it actually looks like when a woman cums.

You could almost imagine what he’d say too— encouragements veiled with insults. Takin’ it like a fuckin’ slut, aren’t ya? Look right at home on your back like that, spread out all nice and pretty.

You thrust the toy shallowly, eyes rolling back as it brushed against your sweet spot. You could’ve really drawn it out and made an evening of it, but fuck it. You wanted to get off and go to sleep.

You held it just right, so the vibration was focused on your g-spot and clit simultaneously. It was so intense that your moans were pitchy and whiny, hips canting as you got closer and closer.

With a moan more like a sob, you came, the pleasure so intense you had to pull out the toy altogether. As soon as it was out, wetness sprayed from you, making a breathless moan slip past your lips.

Your fingers rubbed at your clit, prolonging the orgasm and making your cunt gush and leave a puddle beneath you on the sheets. When you finally came down, it was with shaky breaths as your body trembled with aftershocks.

You laughed weakly at the ridiculousness of the entire night up until that point, unable to move for a solid few minutes until the fog cleared from your mind and you reached over to turn off the toy. Your legs wobbled as you stood to clean yourself up and change the sheets.

Well, at least if you were going to get arrested for possession of obscene materials, you got the best orgasm of your life out of it. If only you hadn’t been thinking of him the entire time.

——

By noon the following day, you hadn’t received any citation, or been walked out of the diner in handcuffs for your depravity. A quick Google search proved your suspicions that the obscenity ordinance was complete bullshit. Which, you know, made sense considering the sex shop and strip clubs within county lines.

When Gator showed up in his regular booth towards the end of your shift, you did your best to ignore him. One of your coworkers brought him out his artery-clogging usual order, and you were mostly convinced that you might be able to slip out the back without even having to utter a word.

And yet… Outside, Gator was leaning on your car, fucking around with your radio antenna absentmindedly.

“Can I help you, Deputy?” You asked, arms crossed as you squinted against the sun. Your entire body was achy and you just wanted to get home.

He made a vague gesture towards the front bumper. “Headlight’s out.”

You glanced at the front of your car, which was mostly held together by zebra print duct tape and sheer force of will. “Yeah, well, some fuckin’ pervert told me I should save my money to pay for some citation he’s writing up for me.”

Gator grinned. “Oh yeah… I decided to let you off with a warning. For the assault too. My head fuckin’ hurts, you know.” You rolled your eyes, pushing him lightly so you could open your door. “Y’know, you’re being ungrateful. Why don’t you be a good girl and say, ‘Thank you, Gator.’”

You hated the way your heart raced just hearing those words coming from his mouth, but you pushed it down and pulled open the door. “Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

A smug smile spread across his lips. “That’s an interesting choice of words, isn’t it? Bet you had a real good night after I left, didn’t ya?”

He was looking at you like he knew, which he couldn’t have, but he also definitely did. You made a face as you slammed the door shut and flipped him off through the cracked and peeling window tint.

There was one bar in town that was a certified Gator-free zone. Apparently, he’d gotten into a nasty fight there, slammed a guy’s head into a pool table a few times, sent him to the ICU for a week. Most people don’t realize that the actual table part is made of a giant slab of slate, but a lot was learned that day.

You sat at the bar, eyes trained on the photo of Gator on the Do Not Serve bulletin board. He could be kind of handsome when he wanted to. In that picture he looked a little younger, a little more serious. Maybe a little softer if you really wanted to believe it (which you did).

Maybe it was the fact that you had conned the guy beside you into buying you all your drinks (of which there had been plenty) or maybe it was the weird mood you’d been in for the past month, but you really wanted to just wash all of that gel out of his hair and wash his face and maybe buy him a pair of pants with the normal amount of pockets.

“Did you hear what I said?” The guy sitting beside you— Noah? Nathan?— asked.

You tore your gaze from the photo and turned to him, batting your eyes a few times for good measure. “Sorry, I think I’m just a little buzzed.” You smiled flirtatiously and nudged his arm with your own. “You were talking about… a trip to New York, right? Some sort of walking tour?”

He smiled, nodding enthusiastically before continuing, going on and on about things you were mostly half-listening to. He was smarter than most people you talked to, not surprising after you clocked the giant gold college ring on his hand. Mid-conversation, you grabbed his hand in yours and marveled at it, playing up how impressed you were just to make him feel important.

His family is from around here, but he lived in Minneapolis. He was in town visiting while his mom was recovering from surgery. He showed you pictures of the cows on his mom’s land, of the view from his apartment, and of the dog that was waiting for him back at his mom’s place. He was sweet, which made you feel guilty for using him to forget all about Gator.

“Do you want to maybe come back to mine?” You asked, playing at bashfulness. He nodded enthusiastically, looking like you’d just offered him a winning lottery ticket.

In bed, he was generous and eager to please, making sure your needs had been taken care of before his pants were even off. You were so worked up and sensitive that you came twice from his mouth alone, not that he was even particularly that great with it. And then he was inside of you, and you came again, which probably gave him quite the ego.

It had to be some kind of fluke. He was a sweet guy, but he wasn’t exactly a sex god.

But there you were, boneless and panting and flushed and sweaty as you both came down. He was red in the face, fumbling for his glasses so he could really see you.

He wanted to talk and stay up the rest of the night with you, which should’ve been nice. Really, you wanted to be excited. He even tried to ease you into his arms, hold you against him all nice and cozy.

You couldn’t fucking do it.

“I’m just gonna grab some water, alright?” You said before hopping out of bed. Your robe was slung over the back of a papasan chair in the corner. You tied it loosely and made your way out of the bedroom. Needing space, and distance, and god, you didn’t even know.

A sane person would have turned back around, spent time with him, and gotten to know him better. Maybe even wake him up in the morning with coffee and pancakes, or a second round in the shower. But you just wanted to be alone.

The knock on your door shouldn’t have been surprising. You had been pretty loud, even louder than the previous night alone. You tied the robe a little tighter and went for the front door, opening it a crack.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know we were l—“ You trailed off when you caught a glimpse of who was outside. “You’re kidding me.”

Gator stood on the porch, arms crossed and looking irritable. “Got a noise complaint,” he said, glancing between you and the house behind you. “You alone?”

“No,” you replied, crossing your arm. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

He scowled at that, and you recognized the way he was feeling almost immediately. Oh, he was jealous. A tiny laugh escaped you, which only served to piss him off more.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” you replied with a shrug. “Is that all, deputy?”

He puffed on his vape and the sickeningly sweet smell of watermelon or cotton candy or whatever the fuck made your stomach turn. You gagged, mouth turning into a frown. “Do you have to blow that shit right in my face?”

“Nope,” he said while repeating the same action. The smell was overwhelming. You could almost feel alarm bells going off inside. “Whatever. Better go on and send your fuck buddy back to whatever hole he crawled out of.”

In the back of your mind, you could hear Gator going on and on, talking about how he bet Noah (how did he know his name?) didn’t even make you cum, and that his dick was small, and he’s probably just some big city loser who comes out here for an easy fuck. But that was in the back of your mind. All you were focused on was the overwhelming smell of sugar as he fucking huffed his vape, and the sinking feeling in your gut.

Nausea clawed up your throat, and a familiar feeling of panic settled over you. You clapped your hand over your mouth, but it was no use. The contents of your stomach spilled onto the floor as you vomited right onto Gator’s boots.

He swore loudly and colorfully, stepping out of the puddle at his feet. You wiped at your mouth weakly, and you would’ve said something like I fucking told you so, but you just felt awful.

“That’s so gross,” was all you could offer. “‘M sorry, Gator.”

And then you were crying your eyes out, and he was walking you inside so you could sit down, and that made you cry more.

“Jesus, you’re moody, huh?” He asked, but the bite in his voice was nearly gone. “Stay here, alright? Before you make an even bigger mess.”

You sniffled and nodded. You saw Noah stepping into the living room, wearing his actual clothes again, which was a relief. You didn’t really want Gator seeing him naked.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, taking a few steps forward.

“I’m fine, I’m just embarrassed,” you said, voice croaky with tears. “I just got sick from the drinking, I think.”

There was a noise from the kitchen and Noah furrowed his brows. “You have a roommate?”

“No, he’s—“ you trailed off, unsure of what to say. “He was here to handle a noise complaint, and I kind of puked on his shoes.”

Gator walked into the room, then paused at the sight of Noah. His face furrowed in blatant judgment. He handed you a sprite, then went straight back to staring at Noah.

“Who’re you?” Gator asked, his arms crossed like a club bouncer.

“I’m Nick.” Oh. Well, at least you were close.

“You should head out, dick,” he said, standing taller, trying to appear more imposing than he really was.

Noah glanced at you and hesitated until you gave a tiny nod. “I had a good time,” you offered. “Sorry about… all of this.”

He scribbled his phone number onto your grocery list by the door, offered a wave, and then headed out, leaving you and Gator alone. For better or worse.

It was quiet as you sipped your sprite, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Are you pregnant?” He asked suddenly. “And don’t fuckin’ lie.”

“What?”

“You’re acting all bipolar, and you're puking over my vape, and your tits look bigger.” You glanced down at your boobs with a frown. They did?

“I’m not pregnant,” you replied defensively. “I got my period, like, right after we fucked.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You wanna know what I do believe?” You didn’t, but he was going to tell you. “That you pocketed the money for the Plan B, ‘cause you want to get pregnant and blackmail my family.”

You scoffed. “You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

His jaw ticked with annoyance as he looked down at you. “Take a test.”

“Whatever,” you said with a shrug. “I’ll buy one after my shift tomorrow if you’re so fuckin’ worried about it.”

He shook his head. “Fuck that,” he said while tapping away on his phone. “You’ll just lie about it. I’m doordashing this shit.”

You would’ve protested, but what was the point in that? You had nothing to hide— certainly not blackmail. The idea of purposely letting yourself get knocked up by Gator Tillman almost made you want to puke again.

You had finished your Sprite by the time the poor kid arrived, probably seventeen, with his face burning red as he handed Gator a bag from the twenty-four-hour convenience store. Gator slammed the door and dumped the contents of the bag on the coffee table.

Two boxes of pregnancy tests, a monster energy drink, and a pack of cheese bugles.

You grabbed the boxes and trudged towards the bathroom attached to your room while Gator followed close behind. You went to shut the door, but he held it open.

“No fuckin’ way,” he said firmly. “If I leave you’ll just fake it.”

You rolled your eyes, the irritability you felt close to reaching a boiling point. “I’m not pregnant! I don’t want to be pregnant, least of all with your fuckin’ kid!”

When he didn’t move, and, to his credit, stayed completely stoic. You huffed and turned. “If you’re not gonna leave, you can be useful. Hand me one of the little cups beneath the sink. Next to the mouthwash.” He furrowed his brows, but obeyed. “I’m not pissing in front of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen worse.” You closed your eyes, doing your best to ignore him and just pee into the fucking cup. The whole situation was so infuriating that you just wanted to scream. Once your shy bladder got over itself, it was easy enough. Dip the tests in the cup, cap them again, lay them out and try to forget they’re there.

You’d taken plenty over the course of your marriage— and you hoped for the same result then that you did before.

“What’d it say?” Gator asked as you washed your hands. He was squinting down at the tests, trying to discern what was happening.

“It’s not instant. You’ve gotta wait three minutes,” you said. After drying your hands, you looked at him again.

Really looked. He was all fidgety, a little pale. His lip was bleeding where he’d been biting at it. He was just as anxious as you were, but you doubted it was for the reason he was saying.

“You kind of want one, don’t you?” You asked, meeting his gaze.

He scoffed. “No. I hate kids,” the words came out quickly, defensively. He was lying, and he was just as bad at it then as he was every time before. “Besides, what the fuck would I tell my dad if I knocked up a stripper?”

His words should’ve had some bite to them, but he just reminded you of a skittish animal lashing out at anything near it. You leaned against the doorframe and sighed. “You’re pushing thirty, Gator. Who fuckin’ cares what your dad thinks about you?” Gator rolled his eyes, because you just didn’t get it, or whatever. But you knew plenty about outrunning parents and the weight of expectations. About outrunning the weight of not being what they wanted.

You looked at him again, narrowing your eyes. “What do you really want, huh? Outside of making my life hell, terrorizing the town, and making your daddy proud?” You paused, but were met with silence. “If you’d just try to be a decent human being for once, you might find a nice girl who wants to be with you.”

“And that asshole you brought back here and fucked was decent, huh?”

“I think so, yeah,” you replied.

“And you’re gonna see him again? ‘Cause he’s so nice?”

“No, Gator, I’m not gonna see him again,” you said sharply. “I’m not, because he deserves better than a second night with someone who didn’t want to be around him.”

Before he could respond, the timer on your phone went off, louder in the tiled bathroom. Your hands fumbled as you turned it off, heart pounding with nerves.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, just look,” Gator said, clearly annoyed by your hesitance. You watched him flip them over, one by one, all reading the same result.

Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive.

Gator squinted at the lines, then at the back of the box, a few times until it settled in.

“Goddamn it!” He shouted, slamming a hand against the counter. You flinched, but couldn’t bring yourself to react further than that. “I told you to take a fucking Plan B, didn’t I?”

You swallowed hard, doing your best to remain calm. “You did, and I did. Maybe, if you didn’t want to knock me up, you should’ve pulled out like I told you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know, it probably isn’t even mine,” he said, glaring in your direction. “You let that asshole from the bar cum in you tonight?”

Your cheeks burned hot. “You’re disgusting,” you sneered. “And, no. I don’t make a habit of letting guys fuck me raw.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, but you were so willing to give it up for me, huh?” He grabbed your arm, hard for the briefest second before his grip softened. “See, this is why I know you’re tryin’ to fuck my family over.”

You gave an exasperated groan and yanked your arm out of his grasp. “One, you didn’t pull out. Two, how exactly am I gonna blackmail your family if there’s no baby, you fucking idiot?”

His expression softened slightly as he considered your words. His brows furrowed in confusion, as he looked back at the tests. “Those are all positive, that means you’re pregnant.”

You gave a long exhale and met his gaze. “And it’s early enough that I can still have it taken care of. Maybe not in this fuckin’ state, but my car can still make a trip to Minnesota. Probably.”

He processed the words and the implications before shaking his head. “No.”

You raised a brow, taken off-guard by that single word. “I’m sorry?”

He shook his head. “I said no. You’re not doin’ it.”

You scoffed incredulously, blinking away your confusion. “Five seconds ago you wanted to punch through my drywall because you thought you were being blackmailed. Now you suddenly care about the sanctity of life? Give me a break. You nearly beat that guy to death in front of me at the club, and from what I’ve heard, you’ve done worse than that.”

”It’s different,” he argued, annoyed that you called out his hypocrisy. “It’s mine, so I should have some sort of say.”

You swallowed hard, staring at the curtains near the window so you could avoid his eyes. “Exactly. It’s yours. I don’t want to have your baby, Gator. I don’t want to bring another goddamn Tillman into the world.”

He had you pressed against the wall before you even had a second to realize he was moving. Your head knocked against the drywall, making you yelp. One hand was wrapped around your throat, keeping you pinned to the wall with a light amount of force. “I could stop you,” he finally said. “I mean… really stop you. Make it so you can’t leave. Could keep you at the ranch, make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because that would mean involving his father. Knocking up a stripper doesn’t exactly give men like his father warm and fuzzy feelings.

When you swallowed, your throat bobbed against the palm of his hand. Your eyes trailed up, landing on his as your breathing came out in pants.

His mouth was on yours suddenly, claiming you with a searing kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, making you moan.

He’d never kissed you before, not once. You hadn’t even thought he’d want to. But there he was, groaning into your mouth as he made out with you.

“Gator—“ you gasped as he ground against you, already rock hard without any real coaxing. He shut you up with another kiss, hungry and messy.

You got the message— no more talking about that. He pulled the tie of the robe you wore and it fell onto the ground in a pile, leaving you completely bare.

He pulled back from the kiss, eyes raking over your body hungrily. Big hands traced over your skin, making you shiver. A gasp escaped you as he squeezed your tits.

“They really are bigger,” he said with a wry laugh.

“Shut up,” you snapped, head knocking against the wall as you tossed it back.

“You’ve got a bad fuckin’ attitude. But I can fix that.” One of his hands moved down your body, cupping your cunt, fingers dipping into the pool of your arousal. “You get this soaked for that asshole?”

You whimpered as his fingertips teased your entrance, just shy of everywhere you needed him. Just shy of slipping inside, purposely avoiding your clit. He locked eyes with you, his gaze intense.

“Don’t be shy, you can tell the truth,” he said, continuing to tease with featherlight touches. You could feel just how wet you were getting— dripping embarrassingly down your thighs.

“Only ‘cause I thought about you,” you admitted. A sly grin spread across your face. You’d never let him have an easy win. “You’d probably be one of the best fucks I ever had if you bothered to make me cum.”

“Don’t fuckin’ piss me off,” he said with an eye roll. He thrust his middle finger inside of you, and you moaned softly. “Such a goddamn liar.”

He was a little more gentle with you, despite, well, everything. Warming you up with one finger before adding a second. Moans fell from your lips as he curled them just right, the cocky expression he wore told you he was dead set on proving that he really was top-ten material.

His thumb brushed against your clit, making your legs tremble. You couldn’t help but clench around his fingers, your entire body overwhelmed with need. Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was all the tension between you, but your entire body was aching for him.

“Close,” you gasped out. Your open, panting mouth was like an invitation. He kissed you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth as he continued fucking you with his fingers. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours.

“That’s it,” he practically cooed. “C’mon, give it to me.” You moaned, walls clenching around his fingers as you grew closer and closer to the edge. He tried to pull his hand from between your thighs, but you grabbed his wrist and shook your head.

“Gator, don’t fuckin’ stop until I tell you to.” His cheeks went pink, eyes flashing with something unfamiliar.

Your moans grew pitchy as you got closer, hips canting against his fingers, shoulders digging into the wall as your back arched off of it.

You barely had time to gasp out a feeble, “‘m cumming!” Before your climax hit.

Broken moans escaped you as pleasure radiated through you. His fingers kept their pace, and every brush of his thumb on your clit made spots dance across your vision. When you were finally spent, you had to tap his wrist weakly. “Okay, that’s enough,” you managed.

He was coated down to his wrist with sticky arousal, which made you look away with heat burning in your cheeks, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

He grabbed your jaw and turned your face back to look at him, wearing a smug expression. “Don’t act all shy now. Tell me you want more.” Bold of him to assume he could make you cum again. But you nodded anyway. You’d like to see him try, at least.

“I want more,” you said, even though it killed you to just give in so easily. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, before he pressed a little more and breached the pouty seal of your lips.

“Yeah? Your friend didn’t wear you out before this?” He asked, his voice dripping with a false sense of concern. He pushed his thumb a little deeper, pressing down on your tongue while you sucked on it. You had a pretty good sense of what he was getting at, but a hot need was bubbling up in your stomach and you couldn’t deny yourself any longer. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. Takin’ two cocks in one night is… well, it’s pretty fuckin’ slutty.”

At his words, you bit down on his thumb until he withdrew it with an annoyed huff. “You wanna leave?” You asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. You stepped around him, settling in the middle of the bed. “Take your clothes off then.”

He was quick to undress, clumsy in his haste. His vest knocked against the wall and sent a picture frame tumbling off its hook. He stripped off piece after piece in a sort of never-ending Russian doll until he was finally naked and standing there waiting for you to compliment him, or something.

You took in the sight of him hungrily, and the hormonal neediness of it all made you want him more than you had before. “You’ll do,” was all you said, smirking as he pinned you down against the mattress.

“You’re such a bitch,” he said, but there wasn’t any real malice in his tone. Actually, you were pretty sure he liked it about you. You spread your legs to accommodate him, shivering as he rocked his hips just so and let the head of his cock brush against your folds. “But you want me so bad, huh? Just need me to fuck that attitude out of you, don’t you?”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your center, only letting the tip slip inside briefly before pulling back out. He raised a brow, wanting to hear you beg.

”Gator, if you don’t get inside me, I’ll call Nick to finish the job.”

You would have laughed at how quickly he buried himself within you after that if the force of it hadn’t punched the air from your lungs. His pace was brutal, and the sound of his hips slapping against the plush of your thighs with each rough thrust made sheepishness settle warm in your chest.

“You act like— fuck— like you don’t want me, but I don’t think this pussy got that memo.” A smirk played at his lips as he railed into you, soft grunts punctuating each thrust in. You wrapped your legs around him, pressing with your heels to encourage him deeper.

He was such a self-assured asshole, but, fuck, if that didn’t turn you on. He had one of your hands pinned to the bed, fingers tangled with yours.

“Go ahead and touch yourself,” Gator instructed.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. As soon as the words passed his lips, you moved your free hand between your thighs to circle your clit. The feeling was damn near euphoric. Breathy moans fell from your lips as your head fell back against the pillows.

And Gator was fucking eating it up.

“That feel good, huh?” His voice was breathy; his words were punctuated with moans and fucked-out pants. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. You’re really lovin’ this, huh? Bet you wanna be stuffed full of this cock every day. Coulda had this again a lot sooner if ya weren’t such a bitch all of the time.”

You could feel yourself reaching your finish, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him. Each moan slipping past your lips was even more debauched than the last as he buried himself inside your needy cunt.

“It’s too much, huh?” He asked, fucking you with a relentless need to cum. With each thrust his cock kissed your cervix. “You can take it, can’t you? Made just to take this cock inside your needy little pussy.”

Your eyes rolled back as your walls clamped around him, your finish so close you could have sobbed with relief. You came with a cry of his name, which would have been mortifying, had you been in a mindset to retain your pride.

“F-Fuck—“ He cried out, his hips stuttering. “Holy fuckin’ shit— gonna cum— fuck—“ He buried himself in you with one final, rough thrust before he went still, collapsing atop you with his full body weight.

He laid there, panting hot breath against your neck until he came back to his senses. He gave one final wet kiss to your throat before rolling over with a pleased sigh.

“You finally know what it feels like,” you mused, staring up at the ceiling.

Gator furrowed his brows as he turned to look at you. “I’ve fucked you before, it’s nothin’ special this time.”

Gee, thanks. “I meant you finally know what it feels like for a girl to cum while you’re inside her.” You grinned as you watched annoyance twist his features. He rolled his eyes with a huff, but didn’t seem too pissed off at your jab.

It was contentedly quiet until you remembered the pregnancy tests sitting on the counter just one room over. Your stomach twisted with guilt as you looked over at him, his hair a little messy, cheeks flushed from exertion.

It would’ve been nice if things were different.

“I’m moving,” you said finally. “Back to Texas, I think. Maybe even somewhere new. As soon as I’ve saved enough for a down payment.”

Gator turned quickly, anger making his brows furrow. “Leaving?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m getting out of Lehigh, and I think you should too. This place is poison. You know that.”

You watched him swallow, jaw ticking as he stayed quiet. You let the quiet linger in the air, nearly choking on it before he finally spoke. “This is where I belong.”

You nodded and said nothing else. When you woke up in the morning, his arms were around you, and he was drooling into the junction of your shoulder. His hand, flat on your tummy, almost made you yearn for that picture-perfect Tillman family, the one he thought he wanted so badly.

You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up. When he left, he didn’t say a thing. It felt definite.

#hiiiiiii <3 #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman smut #okay that's all enjoy <3

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lexkent · 3 months ago

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Why Lionel Luthor is the True Villain of Smallville:

Threatened to expose Clark's fake adoption records unless Jonathan Kent persuaded Pete Ross’s family to sell their factory to him.

Kidnapped Clark and put him in a vat of kryptonite solution to be studied in an attempt to discover his secrets.

Kept Clark trapped in a cage made of kryptonite in a separate incident.

Impregnated his dying wife's nurse while he was in a position of power over her as her boss, denied he was responsible, and had her locked away in a psychiatric ward for 7 years after taking her baby away from her. Lionel insured the child, Lucas, remained in poverty in the foster care system and prevented him from ever being adopted.

Forced the second woman he impregnated while married to Lillian, while in a position of power over her as her boss, to give their child to an orphanage where she was tortured. He soon found another home for Tess where she grew up in poverty and extreme physical abuse.

Forced his wife to have another baby despite her objections and was then dismissive of her postpartum depression. "I told you I didn't want any more children. I see how you treat Alexander, chipping away at his spirit."

Found a child, Davis Bloome, in a cornfield and believing him to be The Traveler, ran experiments on the boy until he realized he wasn't who he wanted and proceeded to dump him off alone on a dark Metropolis street.

Created a clone from a dead little girl, Emily Dinsmore, and locked her away in a lab, refusing to let her father ever see her again. "You can't take her away from me. She's my daughter." "She's the property of Luthorcorp."

Was such a terrible father to Lex that Lillian Luthor killed her infant son to spare him from the cruel and twisted parenting Lex endured from Lionel. Was such a horrible husband to Lillan that Lex took the blame for his baby brother's death knowing Lionel would have murdered her in retaliation.

Lied and told Lex that Lucas died in infancy, like Julian, knowing how much it would hurt Lex to hear.

Paid someone to kill Lucas once he became a potential threat to his power. Clark stopped the bullets, and Lionel had the shooter killed in police custody before he could talk.

Forced Lex's mother figure, Pamela Jenkins, out of Lex's life following the death of Lex's mother because he didn't want her to make Lex soft. Convinced Lex that Pamela never loved him and was only ever interested in their money.

Blew up Chloe and Gabe Sullivan's safehouse in an attempt to kill them and prevent her from testifying against him at his murder trial. Hired a mutant hitman to kidnap and kill Chloe after she escaped the explosion.

Had Oliver Queen's parents killed in a plane crash leaving him orphaned at the age of 5.

Ordered the murder of Andrea Rojas’s mother who was an activist who worked for an organization that fought back against gangs, dealers, and large business corporations. In addition to losing her mother, Andrea was stabbed in the heart during the attack.

Resurrected a teenager, Adam Knight, to get close to Lana Lang and spy on Clark Kent. When Adam failed to retrieve useful information, Lionel refused to give him any more of the serum he required to stay live. As a result, Adam suffered immensely before dying of organ failure.

Resurrected Vince Davis who lived for a short, painful period of time before his body deteriorated without access to Lionel's serum.

Poisoned Lex with a lethal dosage that would've killed 99.9% of people.

Told Lex he loved him in prison only to persuade him into accepting his hand so he could use a Kryptonian stone to body swap them, leaving Lex to rot and die in prison in his place while Lionel escaped with Lex's body. Instead, Clark intervened and Lionel escaped inside of Clark's body, leaving Clark trapped to die in prison. Shortly after the bodyswap occured, Lionel looked down the front inside of his(Clark's) waistband while smiling to himself. While in Clark Kent's body, Lionel initiated a hug with Martha Kent where he was turned on to the point of shooting heat vision from his eyes. Lionel-in-Clark's body flirted with Chloe, a teenager, and was centimeters away from kissing her. And when Lionel-in-Clark's body encountered Lana, a teenager, he said to her, "A man would travel around the world to pluck your succulent fruit," and forced a kiss onto her, smiling to himself after she slapped him and ran away. Lionel proceeded to attack Lex, choking him, slamming his head against a desk, and demanding 57 million dollars using Clark's super strength. He then went to the Kent Farm and threw Jonathan across the room into the kitchen cabinets. Lionel told Clark he would murder Lex if he didn't cooperate with his demands.

Pretended to be blind. "Playing the handicapped card is low, even for you." "But I was able to see more clearly than ever. It's amazing what people try and get away with right in front of your eyes when they think you can't see."

Fired 2,500 Smallville citizens to force his son back under his control. When Lex attempted to organize an employee buyout of the factory, Lionel bought the Smallville Savings and Loan and threatened to foreclose on every employee's mortgage. When Lex continued to organize and fight to save everyone's jobs, Lionel threatened, "I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side."

Blackmailed Smallville sheriff Ethan Millar into digging up dirt on every Lexcorp shareholder(Smallville factory workers), so Lionel could blackmail each one into selling their shares to him in order to take over Lex's fledgling company. In addition, Lionel threatened to expose the sheriff if he didn't do him various favors.

Once again tried blackmailing Jonathan Kent leading to a physical altercation between the two. Lionel fled the scene as Jonathan suffered a fatal heart attack.

Installed hidden cameras and microphones throughout Lex's office, so he could sabotage him and steal his business deals.

Took over Lex's company, which Lex had invested everything he had into, leaving him with nothing and immediately kicking him out of his home.

Insisted an ill-advised, life-threatening surgery be performed on Lex after he had been shot and wasn't stable enough for further surgery, making it clear he'd prefer a dead son over a physically disabled one.

Set Lex up for the murders of Dr. Teng and her entire team at Metron Labs after Lex refused to work for him.

Had sex with Lex's lover, Victoria Hardwick, while they were still sleeping together.

Hired Dr. Helen Bryce to seduce and spy on Lex for him. Helen later attempted to murder Lex on their honeymoon.

Gave Martha Kent a watch engraved, "To Martha, with deep affection. L.L." while she was his employee and happily married to Jonathan Kent.

Refused to come clean about his past sexual involvement with Rachel Dunleavy and the existence of their son, Lucas, despite Lex being held hostage and his survival depending on Lionel telling the truth.

Refused to come clean about Level 3 when it would have saved the lives of a group of teenagers and his own son.

Ignored and denied any care to his employee, Earl Jenkins, who was poisoned by kryptonite on the job which led to uncontrollable, dangerous seizures.

Created a deadly fear toxin for the military that leaked into Smallville.

Drugged, gaslit, attacked, and framed his son, orchestrating a scenario where everyone would believe Lex to be crazy after Lex discovered Lionel had his parents murdered for insurance money. Lionel had Lex committed to Belle Reve Sanitarium where he had Lex further drugged and put through electroshock therapy, forcing 600 volts of electricity through Lex's brain. When the doctor insisted they pause the procedure for Lex's safety, Lionel ignored the warning and demanded they continue. This brain frying could have easily destroyed Lex's mind, as it did for others who endured it, and ultimately wiped away months of Lex's memories, allowing Lionel to be off the hook for his parent's murders. Everyone involved in Lionel's plot, all loose ends, met untimely deaths.

Threatened, manipulated, controlled, hyper criticized, denied affection, and lied to Lex constantly. Lionel mentally, emotionally, and physically abused his child throughout his entire life, raising him to become a monster and then denying any accountability for what Lex became in the end.

This list is far from complete, so feel free to add more!

#“My father made every question a quiz every choice a test.#Second best was for losers #compassion for the weak #trust no one.#Those were the lessons I grew up with.” -Lex #smallville #lionel luthor #lex luthor #sv meta #smallville lb #dc #abuse cw #long post

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nursingjobs12 · 2 months ago

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A healthcare nursing agency connects nurses with job opportunities, offering flexible schedules, competitive pay, and placements in various healthcare settings.

#healthcare nursing agency #top travel nursing agencies #medical hiring agency #Full time Nursing Jobs

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stardewremixed · 10 months ago

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Stardew Valley Employment Headcanons

I've been thinking a lot about how many folks in the Valley don't work. In some ways, it feels realistic. A small town that is clearly dying until the Farmer comes along struggles with unemployment rates. It could be related to high taxes (*side-eyes* I'm looking at you, Lewis) and competitive megacorporations (like Joja) undermining the local economy. However, I'd like to do a little headcanon for the residents and their job situation.

Under spoilers, because TL;DR.

Abigail - after graduating with a degree in art history, Abigail starts working out in her mother's fitness group. She starts swimming at the spa. And she starts a workout regiment with Alex. Of course, this leads her to finally join the Adventure Guild full-time, protecting the Valley and exploring the depths of the mines. She still jams from time to time with Sam and Seb. I also like to think she leads a local Scouts troop.

Alex - this man deserves to have an amazing job as a pro gridball player. However, while he waits, he could coach a local kids team at the Community Center. I can also see him work part-time stocking shelves at Pierre's General Store. Maybe he lifeguards at the Ginger Island Beach during the busy season or drives deliveries out to Sandy in the desert for Pierre. Or he could work with Robin. Mmm... this man, chopping wood... fantasies. He still sells ice cream in the summertime maybe on the weekends or at festival days (because come on, Pierre needs a little competition and I love the idea of pineapple ice cream at the luau and stardrop sorbet at the moonlit jelly fest). I also see him doing odd jobs around the valley until he gets more stable work at Pierre's or Robin's. Need someone to fix your leaky roof? Alex is your man! (Because Evelyn mentions George can't do it anymore).

Elliott - I still like the idea of Elliott's secret wealth and he escaped his family to become a writer. However, maybe he regularly submits poems and sonnets via various contests online under a pseudonym, and does a few freelance articles (maybe on small towns, fishing, romance, etc.). This man deserves to publish a masterpiece and make it on a bestseller list, then gets an agent, and of course, publishes a series. He still does readings in the Valley at the library and the Saloon because he always wants to remember his humble roots and the people who cheered him on when he was a nobody in the business.

Emily - She absolutely needs to start a side-business as the town tailor. It's kind-of already in the lore, but I could see her starting up an online business (maybe with the help of Seb) on an Etsy-esque site. Also, I can see her helping out on the farm for a little something extra when she's not working at the Saloon. Maybe tending to the flowers, watering plants when the Farmer is in the Mines or off on the island or in the desert for the day. She mentions she would like to do this, but Gus apparently frowns on a side job. Hmm... well, I can see this girl eventually leaving her job at the Saloon to pursue her sewing passion full-time. She totally hosts a yoga class in the winter at the Community Center.

Harvey - He is already a well-respected town doctor, but the man is so stressed that he is hardly ever in the Clinic (at least not without mods). I propose Harvey hires some extra help, an associate, maybe another nurse, and a receptionist to assist, especially if patients from surrounding towns (like he mentions) start visiting (i.e. expansions). And he teaches first aid classes at the Community Center.

Haley - Like Leah, she needs an art exhibit to showcase her photography. Unlike the other villagers, I don't see her staying in the Valley, eventually pursuing the work of a freelance photographer and traveling the world (like her absentee parents). She does make an annual trip back for the Flower Dance, her favorite festival. I have pursued Haley the least in game so I'm struggling to come up with more ideas here.

Leah - Speaking of Leah, she transforms the Valley into a premier art destination. She can teach art classes at the renovated Community Center. She teams up with Seb and Sam (and drags Elliott along for the ride, and the writing) to produce an avant-garde film about the art all around us in small towns. I also think she grows her own herbs and sells them at Pierre's, festivals, and the Farmer's Markets (as she gives me green witch vibes). Maybe she partners with Caroline (or the Wizard) to create some herbal potions and creams. And of course, she's still at it with woodworking, though these days she works on commission for those types of projects.

Sam - This man deserves to be a rock star. And I think he'd make a great solo artist. However, if his guitarist dreams don't pan out, he has options. In the vanilla game, he starts working with Gunther at the museum after JojaMart closes. It's a strange choice, but... I figure, maybe he minored in anthropology in college. He would absolutely give amazing tours of the museum, full of exuberant commentary, perfect for kids field trip days too. And I think he plays gigs in Zuzu City and at the Saloon regularly, and maybe even out at Sophia's winery (Stardew Valley Expanded).

Maru - Nursing just doesn't really seem to fit this woman of multiple interests. She finally pursues her passion of robotics and goes to work in a proper lab in a nearby City (doesn't have to be Zuzu - my headcanon is Pine-Mesa City or Grampleton from Stardew Valley Expanded). I think she makes regular trips to the Planetarium too. I could see her visiting the Valley on long weekends, and maybe taking the local kids club on a night-time stargazing event in the summer.

Sebastian - Please give this man a proper window in his basement, Robin! Okay, if he doesn't marry the Farmer, Seb moves out anyway and goes to live in the City for a while, to find investors for his indie game studio. In the meantime, he continues to do freelance programming work. And then, one day, he makes a breakthrough game that revolutionizes the industry. After making A LOT of money, he invests in a SAVE-THE-FROGS campaign, hires multiple developers and other staff, and starts working on his next big game. But he still makes time to jam with Sam and Abi from time to time, and of course, take long rides on his motorcycle.

Penny - This poor woman needs some love. Penny pursues her higher education and officially receives her teaching license. She is hired by the local school district so she can do more than just tutor. She can finally afford her own little apartment. She starts a kids club in the Community Center, and creates a summer reading program at the Stardew Library. And I like to think she takes a monthly trip to Zuzu City to shop in a big bookstore for fresh reading material when she has some down time.

Shane - Oh this guy is definitely a mess. If you don't "romance" him in game, he doesn't really turn his life around, and even if he does, it doesn't really point to recovery as it should, imo (without the help of mods). This man hates his job, and yet he feels stuck. I propose the following. After he recovers in therapy, completes rehab, and genuinely quits drinking (forever), and of course, loses his job at Joja (suck it, Morris!), Shane starts working at Marnie's shop and contracts out as a farmhand all around the Valley. Then he can be a proper godfather to Jas, and provide some actual service at the Ranch (when Marnie's off doing who knows what with you know who...)

I have thoughts for the other Villagers in the Valley too, but I'll save those for a different post.

#stardew valley #sdv headcanon #stardew valley headcanon #stardewremixed #sdv abigail #sdv alex #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv maru #sdv penny #sdv townies

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callsign-muffin · 3 months ago

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Heal Together: Chapter 5

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I did it. I made the masterlist and started my playlist as well. They'll be linked at the beginning of every chapter, I'll add them to the old ones as well.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 1.9k+

You knew that you were good at your job but hearing someone not only tell you that but how you made them feel… your heart was soaring. You studied Bradley’s handsome face. You loved everything you saw, his puppy dog brown eyes, faded scars on his cheek, and a perfectly groomed mustache.

“I don’t know if you quite understand how much that means to me,” You inhaled slowly, “I see a lot of people who don’t get better.”

He squeezed your hand gently, stroking his thumb along the back, “I cannot even imagine what it’s like.”

“I don’t…” You stuttered, “... nevermind. Whatever, it’s not important.”

Bradley sat up quickly, “It is important. What you have to say is important.”

You signed, “I’m just burnt out. I thought that travel nursing, having a change of scenery every contract and the larger paychecks, would help with the feelings of overwhelming exhaustion… from caring for people who will never get better. But it hasn’t.”

“How long is your contract here?” He asked.

“Four more weeks but I’ve already been asked if I want to extend, they’re so understaffed… And I really love San Diego,” You explained, “So I’ll probably do it. But… I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

He nodded, selfishly so pleased that she wanted to stay here. “What about another unit? Another kind of nursing?”

You smiled weakly, “I’ve thought about it, I’ve thought maybe now would be the time to pivot towards the kind of nursing I actually want to do.”

“Which is?” He asked, tugging a little at the hand that was still in his, just beckoning for you to scoot closer.

You obliged but couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I wanna deliver babies.”

Bradley’s eyes lit up, “You would be incredible.”

Usually when you told people about your aspirations to go into labor and delivery, they’d say something like, “Isn’t that too big of a 180 from what you’re used to doing?” or “Good luck getting into that specialty.” Nobody ever unquestionably validated your desires.

“Yeah but those jobs are so hard to come by,” You shrugged, “They’ll never hire me.”

“So you’re telling me… that you… the nurse who had me extubated and breathing on my own before noon on the first day she met me, couldn’t get her dream job? Fucking nonsense.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you gently.

You laughed nervously, mostly because you liked the feeling of having both his hands on you. “I mean…”

“Get up and get your laptop.” He demanded, “We’re looking for jobs.”

You blinked at him in disbelief.

He smirked, “It’s an order, Y/N.”

Bradley came back to your couch with another bottle of wine in hand, “Some liquid courage.”

You slid your glass across the coffee table towards him, “No applications are being sent under the influence, just looking.”

He sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle with ease and filled your glass, “Fine but I’m gonna be checking back in with you.”

“How?” You asked sassily, “You don’t even have my number, Bradshaw.”

“Well… I do know where you live but I’d rather be less of a fucking creep and just have you put your number in my phone.”

You held out your hand, “Cough it up, Chicken man.”

He rolled his eyes and handed you his phone, “It’s Rooster, Sassy pants.”

You started putting your information in his phone, “Should I put myself in as ‘Nurse Y/N?”

Bradley laughed, “I mean you can, but I think we’re past the point of you just being my nurse.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“I mean… have you ever invited a patient into your apartment for a bottle of wine?” He asked.

“I guess not,” you shifted in your seat and finished entering your info with just your name.

Bradley studied it when he took back his phone, “You might want to add a little heart in there… for good measure.” He handed the phone back and winked. Good god, he was so bold. It was so hot.

Your cheeks flushed but you did as you were told, adding a pink heart emoji next to your name.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Bradley…” Y/N said softly after they had polished off their second bottle of wine.

“What’s got you worried?” Rooster asked, he could hear the concern in her voice.

“I…” she searched carefully for her words, “I’m not sure that you should drive home…”

He chuckled, “Trying to get me in bed already?”

Her cheeks flushed again, bright red. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. “That’s not what I was getting at, Bradshaw! Get your mind outta the gutter!”

“Uh huh, sureeeeeeee!” He teased.

“If you have to know,” she explained, “I don’t think you should drive home because we’ve been drinking a lot. And the last thing I want is your ass back in my ICU.”

Bradley loved that she cared so much and was still a little silly about it, “I don’t drink and drive. I promise you that.”

She nodded, “Good because I’d respect you a hell of a lot less.”

“Let’s do this,” he proposed, “I’ll grab an Uber home, sleep off this wine, and then when I come to get my car in the morning, I’ll take you to brunch?”

A smile spread across her face, “I really like that idea.”

Rooster had never been so excited for a hungover Sunday morning in his life. He rarely drank wine, so he woke up with quite the headache but didn’t even care. Leaving Y/N’s apartment was uneventful, in all honesty. He didn't want to kiss her until she made it clear that she desperately wanted it. Yes, they were clearly into each other. But this wasn’t the type of girl he wanted to push too far too quickly, no matter how badly he wanted to taste her sweet lips.

After showering off the hangover and making sure he smelled fresh, he changed into his usual civilian uniform. Jeans, a white undershirt, a Hawaiian shirt on top, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Before leaving his bungalow, he checked himself in the mirror at least 15 times. Did he have anything in his teeth? Did his hair look stupid cuz it was still a little wet?

“Get it together, Bradshaw!” He muttered to himself.

He ordered his Uber and directs it right to the parking spot where he left his car in the back of your building. He quickly got in and headed towards the front. Deciding on music felt too time consuming, he just wanted to get to Y/N’s as soon as possible. When he pulled up to the front, he saw Y/N patiently waiting on a bench. Her legs were crossed, she intently stared at her phone, but looked up as soon as she heard the purr of Rooster’s car. A bright smile spread across her face as she stood up, Bradley’s mouth went dry seeing her in a floral sundress. Holy shit.

“Long time no see!” She chirped and tucked her phone into her purse.

Bradley climbed out of his car and met her at the passenger side door, opening it like the gentleman he is, “You look… wonderful.”

“Awww thanks, Bradshaw!” She buckled herself in, “Another Hawaiian shirt, I see.”

He jogged back around the car and hopped into the driver’s seat, “You’ve seen two of the many in my collection.”

When he turned the car on, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers started playing through the speakers.

“I love this song!” Y/N reached over and turned up the volume.

Despite having to drive, Rooster couldn’t help but intermittently look over and admire the woman sitting next to him, singing along quietly, with the wind whipping through her hair.

“Ugh!” She cried out over the music, “It’s so beautiful!”

Before he could stop himself from saying something so cheesy, he replied, “So are you.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly and didn’t know how to answer, so she started singing along with the Chili Peppers, “Blood loss in a bathroom stall, southern girl with a scarlet drawl…”

Rooster just smirked to himself and kept sneaking peeks at her, he loved leaving someone who always knew what to say speechless.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

You nervously stirred your iced latte a little too intently in its very aesthetic mason jar, trying to figure out how to tell him your news.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” He asked, resting his chin on his fists.

You smiled, “I sent in a couple job applications this morning.”

Bradley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, “That’s amazing! Where abouts?”

“Naval Medical Center, obviously… UCSD, Scripps, Sharp…” You listed off the names.

“All in San Diego?” He asked.

You nodded, “I really really like it here, there’s nothing better than being able to walk to the beach on my day off.”

“I try to start most of my days off with a run on the beach, I don’t even need headphones sometimes… It’s nice to just listen to the waves.” He mused.

The cute server that took your drink orders popped back to your table asking about food orders.

Your eyes widened with embarrassment, you hadn’t even looked at the menu.

Bradley took one look at you and asked for the server to come back in a few minutes.

“I hadn’t even looked at the menu…” You giggled.

“It’s okay, I always get the same thing so I wasn’t looking either.” He said.

You looked down and scanned the menu, “How stereotypically California of me would it be if I ordered avocado toast?”

He chuckled, “Almost as stereotypically California as me, always ordering the breakfast burrito.”

“Are you from here?” You asked, since this was kind of a date, now would be a good time to ask these introductory questions.

“Kinda… My dad was a naval aviator too and he spent some time here before he died. But I grew up mostly in Virginia since that’s where my mom’s family is. But she died when I was sixteen. After college, I commissioned as an officer and haven’t really had a homebase since. I just go where the navy needs me” He explained.

You reached across the table and held out your hand, “I’m so sorry, Bradley. I can’t imagine that kind of loss.”

He sighed and placed his hand on top of yours, “Some days are easier than others, most days are, actually. I don’t remember much of my dad, I get upset with myself for it if I think about it too much.”

“How old were you when he died?” You asked.

At this point, Bradley was struggling to make eye contact with you. You could tell this was a really hard topic for him, “Four.”

“You were just a little guy… basically a toddler.” You tried to comfort him and stroke the back of his hand with your thumb, just like he did to you last night, “It’s not your fault that the memories are hazy.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guess I never really realized just how young I was when he died.”

You desperately wanted to dig deeper and to learn more about the man in front of you and the people who raised him, but it didn’t feel like the right time. “This feels like a… sacred topic of conversation. Maybe we should put a pin in it and have it another time, maybe somewhere more quiet and private… when you’re ready.”

He squeezed your hand, “I would really, really love that, Y/N.”

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anna-hawk · 11 months ago

Text

Getting down to business

Julian Kaye x F!Reader

Summary: You run across Julian Kaye on several occasions at the hotel your friend works at. Each time you see him, you are more and more fascinated by his easy charm. After one specific evening, you finally decide to make a business transaction with him in the hopes that Julian will be able to satisfy you in a way that no other man ever has.

Warning/Tags: oral sex (f!receiving), sex work, shy reader, body worship, fluff and smut

WC: 9.5k // Explicit 🔞

This is written for the Naughty or Nice Bernthirst Prompt Fest. The prompt was on the Naughty list and was “Keep your eyes open, look at me.” with Julian Kaye. Idk whose prompt it is, but I hope that I was able to work it into my initial idea well enough. I definitely had an incredible time writing for Julian, and it's some of the softest, yet still intense smut I've written. And we have a shy reader this time, which is also kind of a first for me.

Happy holidays everyone 🎉

Looking around yourself to take the whole restaurant in again, your eyes fell to the crystal chandelier hanging above the table you were sitting at with your three friends. It sparkled under the soft lights of the venue, giving the place an even more luxurious appearance than the rest of the decor already did. Your eyes travelled away from the chandelier and moved to the bar lying in your line of sight, where a man was sitting at, deep in conversation with the woman next to him. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what about him had attracted your eyes enough that you’d kept looking back towards him every few minutes since he’d sat down, but you’d found him intriguing right off the bat. He’d joined the woman he was still talking to a good twenty minutes ago, and she’d welcomed him with a seductive smile, which he’d returned with a sultry twist to his lips. They were nursing a glass of wine each, taking a sip here or there, as they kept their heads together while they spoke. You had no idea what they were talking about since, even if there hadn’t been some soft music playing, they were too far away for you to hear anything. From the body language, however, it was still pretty clear that they’d be leaving the hotel together. Or maybe get a room.

You finally returned your attention to your friends, laughing when, Chloe, the birthday girl, got all excited as the waiter arrived with a small cake, three sparklers crackling on top of it. Clarissa, one of your two other friends, worked at the hotel and had managed to secure a table for tonight, the restaurant being fully booked on most evenings. The food was as delicious as expected, and the dessert proved just as good. While you were savoring the rich cream of the chocolate dessert, you glanced back to the man, only to find him standing and holding out his hand for the woman. You watched how she shot him a falsely coy smile before taking his hand and joining his side.

“Looks like Julian has found a new client,” Clarissa chuckled next to you, and you noticed that she was looking in the same direction as you.

“Julian?” You frowned curiously at her use of the word client. “Do you know him?”

“Sure. He’s an escort. He’s good friends with the head concierge, and the costumers he brings in are always super rich and leave huge tips. Well… I think they’re this generous because something else is huge,” Clarissa cackled at her joke, while Chloe and Zara snorted.

Your eyes widened at the information. An escort? Looking him over with a new eye, you thought that he did fit the part. He was dressed to the nines, not a piece of clothing out of place, as was his impeccable hair, while the fitted suit he was wearing perfectly highlighted his body. He definitely looked like his clientele was from the upper crust.

“Wonder how much a night with him is,” Chloe mused with an appreciative glance over her shoulder to look at the man while the two others laughed.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think you could hire Julian Kaye with your teacher’s salary,” Clarissa winked at her, and Chloe flipped her off good-naturedly.

“So he’s that good, huh?” you asked without meaning to as you watched Julian vanish towards the elevators with the woman. So they would be staying at the hotel.

“From what I heard.” Clarissa shrugged. “I mean, he’s really nice and all, and he’s always super discreet with his clients. I’ve never been able to really overhear them talk whenever I was serving drinks while he was there. I think that’s what the ladies like about him… But rumor is that none of his clients ever left unsatisfied. You only need to see the looks on their faces when they leave,” she chuckled.

The conversation steered into another direction after that, but your eyes kept returning to where the couple had left, like you were expecting to see them again and witness the proof of Clarissa’s words. Giving yourself a mental head shake as it happened for the fourth time, you forced yourself to stop and spent the rest of the evening steadfastly ignoring that corner of the hotel.

A few days later, you made your way through the main hall of the hotel and towards the bar of the restaurant, intending to find Clarissa. You’d left a jacket at her place a few weeks earlier and had asked her to bring it today since the hotel was on your way home from work.

Since it was late afternoon, there was only a low number of people at the bar. Julian Kaye was one of them, however. The man was sitting at the opposite end of the bar from where you were standing. This time, you were much closer to him than the first time you’d seen him, giving you the chance to take him in some more. He was sitting with his profile to you, giving you a perfect view of his chiseled jaw and the straight slope of his broad nose. Your eyes traveled to his lips as he smiled at something he was seeing on his phone, the relaxed expression looking at odds with the flirty smiles you’d seen a few nights earlier. Appearance wise, he looked just as fetching as the other day. This time, he was wearing a dark green suit that flattered his skin tone, and a pair of shiny black loafers. His hair fell slightly into his face from how he was leaning over the phone, but he brushed it back up by sliding his fingers through it. Watching him like this, you had no doubt that this man could have any woman he wanted.

“Oh, hey, you’re already here.”

You blinked back to reality and turned your head away from Julian to face Clarissa, now standing across from you behind the bar.

“Uh, yeah, hi, I was done earlier than expected, so I figured I could just grab a drink while I’m here before heading home.”

Clarissa beamed at your decision to stay for a while longer before she returned to the staff room to grab the jacket for you. You thanked her with a smile and plopped down on the stool in front of her.

“The usual?” Clarissa asked, already reaching for a glass on the shelf behind her.

You shrugged with a thoughtful look. “Why don’t you surprise me and mix something for me?”

She grinned brightly and nodded excitedly; Clarissa was always sure to come up with some delicious cocktail.

After you’d been chatting for some time while she busied herself with cleaning this or that item or serving customers, you suddenly noticed a tall form moving closer to you and a pleasant scent reaching your nose. Turning your head in the direction of the person, your eyes widened when you saw Julian standing barely a foot away from you as he leaned over the bar and towards Clarissa.

“Hey, Clarissa, could you send us two whiskeys down there, please? Top shelf.” He extended a hand with a crisp dollar bill clamped between his index and middle finger.

His voice was smooth and low as he spoke. It wasn’t particularly deep, but the soft, almost private sounding tone he used along with his friendly smile had a warm tingle running down your spine.

“Coming right up,” Clarissa grinned, snagging the bill from his fingers and going to work instantly.

Julian smiled back, before his face turned a bit and his eyes landed on you. You could feel your face heating under his attention, and were only able to stare at him wordlessly. His head titled faintly to the side as his lips pulled up more to one side. He was smirking at you, but there was only curious amusement in it.

“You’re Clarissa’s friend?” he inquired, turning his whole body towards you this time. “Think I’ve seen you here a couple times before.”

Your eyes widened slightly at finding out that Julian had noticed you, even if it was only in relation to Clarissa.

“Oh — um, yes.”

You didn’t get the chance to say anything more, since Clarissa came back with two tumblers of whiskey and pushed them over the dark wood of the bar and towards Julian.

“Here you go.”

Julian grinned at her and picked the glasses up with a soft “Thank you”, then shot you a light wink before returning to the end of the bar where a woman was sitting.

“He seems nice,” you mentioned to Clarissa in a completely fake nonchalant tone as you took a sip from your drink, not wanting to give away how curious you were about this Julian Kaye.

“Julian? Yeah. Like I said the other day, he’s a really nice guy.” She held up the money he’d given her. “And a big tipper too. I’ve stopped trying to give him back any change, and he’s stopped telling me to keep it,” she said with a small laugh, moving to the side to finish the transaction with the till.

“And the owner doesn’t mind him … working here?” you kept asking, glancing back towards Julian to see his lips pull into a playful smile at what the woman was telling him. He really had a beautiful mouth.

Clarissa shrugged. “It’s LA, right? I guess everyone wins in this situation and as long as there are no issues, no one really cares.”

You nodded, seeing her point.

“Besides, it’s not like he’s here every night, either. He probably has his regulars here and there, and I know that he’s taken one or two of the women here to some fancy events.”

Humming at her explanation, you chose to change the subject, no matter how much you wanted to ask more questions.

As you finally made your goodbyes twenty minutes later, you noticed that Julian was standing too and offering his arm to the woman. She seemed to be in her late 50s or early 60s, the plastic surgery she had gotten done making it harder to determine. As you slowly followed behind them to get to the exit of the restaurant, Julian noticed you as they stepped outside. He sent you a small smile and a nod of farewell, which you echoed shyly. You consciously refrained yourself from looking back at where he’d walked off to this time, and headed down in the opposite direction.

In the following days, your mind regularly returned to Julian. And his job. You had no doubt that the man actually had several clients over the whole city. He was beautiful and charming, and the way he looked at the person he was talking to made it seem like they had his full attention. You’d seen it during the two times he’d been talking to either of these women, but also when he’d talked to you. As short as the encounter had been, he’d really looked at you.

Clarissa’s words also kept repeating in your head: Rumor is that none of his clients ever left unsatisfied. You bit the inside of your cheek each time you remembered that part and thought of his lips, wondering if… but then you shook your head, feeling ridiculous for entertaining that thought for even a second.

That Saturday evening, you once again made your way through the hotel lobby and into the restaurant, looking for Clarissa. You and the girls were going out tonight, but Clarissa had to work a longer shift than anticipated due to one of her coworkers calling in sick. You’d offered to run by her place and pick up a few things for her so she could change at the hotel, and you’d go straight from there.

Clarissa watched you approach with a bright smile, making grabby hands at the little bag you’d brought her with her stuff inside.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you. I thought the day would never end,” she sighed as you handed her the bag over the bar. “Thanks, I’ll be out front in a sec. Wanna drink something while you wait?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll just sit down over there.” You motioned to one of the small bar tables with your chin.

Clarissa nodded and ran through the ‘employees only’ door at the back of the bar.

While you waited, you let your eyes move around the bar, absently looking at the patrons coming in and out of the restaurant.

“You’re by yourself tonight?” asked a low voice close by, making your head jerk in its direction.

Julian was standing to the side of your table, smiling down at you with this soft expression that you realized was his natural smile. Today, he’d gone for dark gray slacks and a burgundy button down shirt, the top two buttons undone and the jacket thrown over one arm. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of him and the attention that was directed solely on you. You took in a deep breath to calm yourself, doing it slowly and hoping that Julian didn’t notice it.

“Uh, no. I’m waiting for Clarissa to get ready to leave.”

Julian gave you a once over, making more heat run over your face and neck.

“Going somewhere?”

“Uh huh… I mean, yes. We’re trying out this new, uh, restaurant down town and… yeah.”

You wanted to sink through the floor with how awkward you felt. Smooth? You didn’t know them.

“Yeah? What’s the place called?”

If he noticed your distress, he didn’t show it. Instead, he seemed so honestly interested that it rendered you to an even bigger stuttering mess.

“Oh, um…” you blinked a few times, unable to remember the name of the restaurant. “It was, uh… something Italian?”

Julian’s mouth quirked to the side in amusement, but it wasn’t mocking. If anything, it looked actually sort of fond, which had your heart doing double time. You also had to force yourself to not let your eyes stare at his expressive mouth.

You jerked in your seat at the call of your name a moment later, breaking the spell Julian had put on you with his eyes alone, and swiveled your head to see Clarissa walking up to the table.

“I’m ready when you are,” she announced with a grin, before she looked at Julian. “Hey, Julian.”

“Hey,” Julian smiled, right before someone called out his name from down the bar, and he turned towards the voice.

You and Clarissa followed his gaze and found a woman dressed in an elegant jumpsuit waiting for Julian at the entrance of the restaurant.

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me… Have a nice evening at that Italian place,” Julian smiled charmingly at the two of you. “It was nice seeing you again,” he added just for you, and the way he said your name at the end had warmth curling in your belly.

Somehow, the simple use of your name also helped you make a choice about something that you hadn’t consciously been thinking about; or rather, not allowed yourself to really think about.

“You too,” you managed, as you got up and joined Clarissa, a rush of nervousness and exhilaration washing over you at your decision.

Julian smiled again and gave you a nod while you and Clarissa said goodbye. You watched him walk towards the woman with long and smooth strides, making you instantly picture a panther.

“Okay, let’s go,” Clarissa said, checking her phone. “Zara just texted that they’re already there.”

You nodded and followed her as you hurried out of the hotel.

“What’s the name of the restaurant again, by the way? Josh asked me earlier, but I couldn’t remember,” she asked a minute later, as you walked towards the nearest subway station.

“Leoncini’s,” you replied automatically, still lost in thought.

You mentally facepalmed a second later because, of course, now you remembered the name. If you decided to go through with your plan, then you would have to make sure that you would be able to string along more than one coherent sentence.

Several hours later and after a fun evening with the girls, you laid in bed but were unable to go to sleep despite your tiredness. You felt both absolutely ridiculous, but also incredibly excited about your decision, which had you going back and forth on going through with it or not.

But you were so curious, and the thought of Julian doing this to you had you squeezing your legs together. The fact that you were paying for his services was the part that made you the most self-conscious. But then, at least you could be sure that he’d take care of you, right?

Grabbing one of your pillows, you pressed it over your face and groaned into it with exasperation and frustration, leaving it there for a good minute. As you finally removed it, your face now hot from embarrassment and the pillow itself, you stared at the ceiling and breathed in deeply. Once. You were going to do this once. For yourself.

Deciding on how to approach Julian about the whole thing took you several days of psyching yourself into actually doing it. It was one thing to decide that you wanted to do it, and another one to actually go through with it. One thing was certain, the only place you knew Julian to regularly be at was the hotel, which meant that Clarissa couldn’t be working on the day you went there. Thankfully, you talked about your respective jobs often enough that you knew when she was off the following week. You could only hope that Julian would be there as well, since Clarissa had told you that he wasn’t there every night.

That Friday evening, you made sure to put extra care in what you were wearing. Julian would probably not be available the same night, which was fine by you, but you still wanted to look your best while making your request.

Your heart was beating like crazy during the whole time it took you to get to the hotel, and you had to shake out your hands before going in to stop your nervous twitching. With one final deep breath, you walked through the lobby, nodding at the person behind the reception desk since you knew them — hopefully he wouldn’t tell Clarissa about seeing you today — and entered the restaurant. You scanned the bar and the tables lined up in front of it. Not seeing him, you looked towards the restaurant tables, but you were just as unsuccessful in finding Julian. Heaving a sigh, you bit over your lower lip, wondering about what to do. You couldn’t be sure that he would come at all, but maybe he’d be in a little later. With a look at the bar, you chose to take a seat there and have a drink. Thankfully, you didn’t remember meeting the bartender who took your order.

Nearly a whole hour passed before you started to think that tonight would be one of those nights where Julian wouldn’t show up. You checked your phone for the time again, and sighed, about to get up, when you heard laughter and lifted your head towards the doors. Julian, dressed in a deep blue suit, walked through them with another man, the latter laughing loudly, while Julian chuckled and shook his head. Your heart, which had had the time to calm down in the past hour, found the same nervous rhythm as when you’d first arrived. You closed your hands into fists over your thighs before rubbing your palms over them. Julian was walking in your direction, and you tried to angle your body so he would see that it was you, but also not make it obvious that you were hoping that he’d see you. Picking up your second drink and surreptitiously glancing up from under your lashes as you watched them come closer, you saw Julian listening to something the other man was saying while letting his eyes drift over the room. Recognition sparked in his eyes as his gaze landed on you. You met his eyes when his lips pulled into a smile, and sent him a small one in return.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” Julian asked, stopping at your level.

“Good, thank you,” you smiled, turning your glass in your hands before stopping the nervous motion.

Julian looked around the bar and tilted his head.

“Clarissa here?”

Your eyes widened briefly at his question. Of course, he supposed you were here for Clarissa again.

“Uh, no, she’s off today.”

Julian’s eyes went back to you, but you were unable to meet them. You stared into your glass instead.

“Julian?” asked the other man after a beat of silence.

You lifted your eyes again to see Julian looking at the man and nodding.

“Have a good evening,” Julian said with a small smile directed at you and began walking again.

Shit. You’d had the perfect opportunity, but you totally blew it by not engaging more with him, and now he was walking away.

Feeling like a fool, you stared at his slowly retreating back and sighed loudly.

“Julian!”

Julian looked back at you with the same surprise that you were feeling, since you hadn’t consciously decided to call out his name. Tightening your jaw with new resolve, you put your drink back on the bar and slid from the stool to take a step in Julian’s direction.

“Do you maybe have a minute?”

Frowning slightly for a second, Julian shot a look towards the other man.

“I’ll join you later,” he told him.

The man gave you a quizzical look, but agreed and continued on alone.

With his hands in the pockets of his pants, Julian slowly walked back to you, stopping a few feet away.

“What’s-”

“Could we do this somewhere more private?” you cut in, nervously glancing around you and wringing your hands.

Frowning again and squinting at you curiously, Julian motioned for you to follow him out of the restaurant and towards a somewhat secluded alcove.

“What can I do for you, Sweetheart?”

Your heart missed a beat at the endearment. By the way he was looking at you and his soft tone, Julian was clearly concerned about your need to talk to him. It took you another second to find your voice again and get your thoughts in order.

“Okay, so, um… First off, I need this to stay between us. Clarissa can’t know, okay?”

Julian nodded slowly, one eyebrow lifting questioningly.

“Of course.”

Nodding as well, you blew out a loud breath and uttered a small, nervous laugh. Now or never.

“Right, so…” you stalled for a second before powering on. “I’d like to… um… hire your services?”

Now both of Julian’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, as he’d clearly not expected anything of the sort. His head tilted to one side as he considered you, his back straightening and his hands going back into his pants.

“And what kind of services would you like?” he wondered, taking a step closer to you as his voice lowered, turning more private.

Willing the heat of embarrassment suffusing your face away, you bit over your bottom lip and glanced into his eyes before looking away again.

“I would like you to make me come with only your mouth,” you replied quietly, forcing the blunt words out so there wouldn’t be any doubts about what you wanted or expected from him.

Julian was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“That’s it? Nothing else?”

Looking at his questioning eyes, you nodded with a one-sided shrug.

“I’ve never been able to get there with my previous partners, so,” you trailed off with another self-conscious shrug.

“Then you haven’t been with any decent men,” Julian said with an unimpressed look on his face at the knowledge that seemingly no one had made enough of an effort for you.

A small, surprised laugh escaped you at the vehemence in his tone.

“Maybe, I don’t know, but…” you sighed. “I tend to, you know, always be too much in my head. Like, I can’t fully let go, I guess.”

Julian observed you quietly for a few seconds.

“What makes you think it’ll be different with me?”

You’d asked yourself the same question, so the answer came quickly this time.

“I suppose, well, hope really, that since there’s no pressure whatsoever for anything else beyond that, I’ll be able to, well, get out of my head.” You laughed under your breath. “And I have more confidence that you know what you’re doing.”

Julian chuckled at the last part, and he hummed thoughtfully.

“And when would you like this to happen?”

“So you agree?” you asked, eyes wide at his easy acceptance.

He huffed out a small laugh of equal surprise and let his eyes travel over you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Heat blooming on your face, you looked away with a small smile.

“Well… I’m usually free on any nights, so… Whenever you’re free, I guess… And,” you hesitated for a second? “What do you charge for that?”

Julian pulled out his phone from the inside of his jacket and scanned it for a minute.

“How about tomorrow?” he suggested, throwing you a brief look over the top of his phone as he typed.

“Oh… um, okay.”

“Here okay, or you wanna go somewhere else?”

You’d thought about that and even considered asking him back to your place if he agreed, but you’d quickly decided that you’d rather it happen somewhere neutral. You laughed nervously.

“Here would be fine by me, but I can barely afford more than two drinks here once in a while without having to eat cup noodles for the following week. So paying you and a room…” you laughed with a grimace and let the end of the sentence unspoken, the meaning clear without you voicing it. You were in a luxury hotel, and the drinks definitely followed the general rates of the establishment. Only Clarissa working here got you a small discount. “I’ll have to think about-”

“Tell you what… I can usually get a room here without problem,” Julian told you with a smile.

“Oh… Really? I guess… If you’re sure, then that would be… great.”

Nodding decisively, Julian shook his phone and motioned it at you.

“Can I have your phone number?”

“Oh… Yes, sure.”

You recited the number while Julian typed it into his phone, then your own vibrated in your purse.

“I sent you the rates,” Julian explained as you pulled your phone out of your purse.

You stared at the price popping up in the texts. It was expensive, but far less than you had expected, which was a good thing. Looking back at Julian, you gave him a succession of quick nods of agreement.

“Um… how… do you prefer your payments? Do I wire them or, um… ugh, I’m sorry for being so awkward about all this… I keep feeling like I’m going to say something really offensive and ask the wrong question at some point.”

You huffed out an exasperated laugh and rubbed your palms over your arms.

“Don’t be,” Julian smiled gently, leaning forward to catch your gaze, which you had averted during your muttering. “Never anything wrong with asking for what you want. Any woman should be taken care of the way she deserves to. That’s what I’m here for.”

You bit your lip at the heartfelt words, and gave him a small, grateful smile for putting you at ease.

“As for your question. Wired, cash, however’s fine by me,” he added.

“‘kay… Is there something… I should… be aware of? Like dos and don’ts?”

Julian considered you for a little moment and shook his head minutely.

“Think about what you’ll be comfortable doing. Or me doing to you. I’ll follow your lead. But we can always go with the flow, see how I can get you out of that pretty head of yours.” He pointed at your forehead with a small chuckle.

“Oh… yeah, okay.”

Your breathing ticked up a notch at his words.

“Right… Wanna meet in this spot tomorrow around 9?”

“Yeah,” you stopped yourself from saying okay again. You couldn’t remember how often you must have said it tonight, or any variation of it.

“Good,” Julian smiled, pocketing his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” you smiled back, nodding.

With a last nod of goodbye, Julian turned around and walked back into the restaurant, leaving you to stare after him with a still baffled expression. This was actually going to happen. You were going to have that gorgeous man’s mouth on you. A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine.

When you woke up the next morning after barely getting any sleep the previous night from all the excitement and nervousness of what was to come, you started wondering if going to the hotel was the best idea. What if someone recognized you and saw you with Julian, only to tell Clarissa about it? Sure, it was none of her business, but you still didn’t feel like sharing what you were going to do with her or any of your two other friends. You couldn’t be sure that they’d understand; it was quite an unconventional request coming from you.

After lying around in bed for an hour and going back and forth with your emotions on the matter, you finally put a lid on all of it and decided to just go for it. It was only tonight, you’d be discreet and even if someone saw you, what did they actually know that wouldn’t be anything more than wild assumptions? With a decisive nod, you got up and went about your day, trying to push any thoughts of that evening to the back of your mind so they wouldn’t distract you too much. Which you weren’t that successful at since you weren’t working and hadn’t planned anything in particular except for doing some chores.

By the end of the day, you were a nervous wreck and only managed to go through the process of getting ready on autopilot. Before you knew it, it was ten minutes to nine, and you were, once again, standing in front of the hotel. Quickly going through the lobby and avoiding the reception desk just in case, you arrived at the alcove and found Julian already standing there. He was leaning against the wall, his stance relaxed with one ankle crossed over the other, while he looked at his phone. He’d gone for a charcoal suit with a dark red button down shirt. You swallowed at the outfit, as well as at his sharp jaw that looked freshly shaved and at his nose that scrunched up in thought. That gorgeous man would be yours for the night.

Julian’s head lifted as you came closer, his hair falling slightly into his eyes from the motion. Your breath caught as he smiled, one side of his mouth pulling up more than the other.

“Hey,” he said and turned to you, taking a few steps in your direction to meet you halfway while his eyes swept over you. “You look beautiful.”

“Hey,” you replied in kind, except that it came out breathless and almost inaudible. “Thank you,” you managed after another breath, your face feeling hot.

“Is there something you’d like to do before we go up or…?” Julian inquired, putting his hands in his pockets, but still leaning closer to you.

“Um, no, I think I’m good,” you muttered, trying to get your heart beat under control.

Julian nodded with a small smile and extended an arm in the direction you were going into before leading the way. As you silently followed him to the elevators, you glanced down at his hands that were still sitting in his pants. He hadn’t touched you at all. He’d come closer, as he’d done yesterday evening, talked in a seductive voice, but he hadn’t touched you, keeping his hands to himself at all times. As excited for that to change as you were, you realized that he was doing it on purpose and clearly for your sake, considering how he hadn't refrained from touching his other clients. You felt immeasurably glad about him picking up on you being apprehensive of being touched in public. Thus far, Julian had been incredibly professional about everything. He had been surprised by your initial approach, but as soon as he’d understood what you were looking for, he’d never acted in any way or said anything to make you feel uncomfortable or ashamed about what you were asking for. You rode the elevator in silence, but you noticed that Julian was giving you furtive glances every few seconds. It wasn’t until you’d walked up to the suite’s door — yes, he’d gotten you a goddamn suite — that Julian finally spoke.

“Just so we’re clear. Anything that is going to happen in this room, or not happen for that matter, is fully up to you. You choose that we stop here, that’s totally fine. Got it?”

You stared into his brown eyes, gentle and honest. Was your nervousness that obvious? You scoffed internally. Of course it was. You must have been fidgeting non-stop since the moment you’d seen him.

“Got it,” you replied, infusing as much determination into your voice as possible. You did want this, after all.

Julian nodded with a small smile and pulled a key card out of the inside of his jacket. He pressed it against the door handle, a click sounding instantly as the door unlocked. Taking a step to the side, Julian motioned for you to do the honors and open. With one last deep breath, you pulled down the handle and stepped into the room, only for that breath to whoosh out of you a second later as you took in the room. It was a small apartment rather than a room; it had a small living room dividing the room into two areas, a large bathroom showing through a door to the left, a balcony to the right, and the bedroom across from the entrance. The bed was bigger than any bed you’d ever slept in, and everything in the room showed off what a luxurious place the hotel was.

“Please tell me you didn’t pay for this just for me. Julian, that’s-”

“I didn’t,” Julian assured you with a faint smile.

You stared at him dubiously before looking around you again.

“You got this for free?”

Julian shrugged noncommittally and walked to the mini fridge sitting next to the small couch to peer inside.

You opened your mouth to insist on the matter, since you didn’t want Julian to pay any extravagant amounts of money for you, but Julian beat you to it.

“Let’s just say that I have an agreement with the head concierge. This suite was available tonight, so he gave it to me.”

You suddenly remembered Clarissa saying something along those lines during Chloe’s birthday dinner, and nodded, accepting the explanation. Julian smiled again as you slowly walked up to him while scanning the room and looking out at the city lights twinkling through the balcony doors and the bedroom windows.

“Do you wanna drink something?” Julian asked after he’d shrugged out of his jacket and let you take everything in.

You looked back at him and then the mini fridge, which wasn’t that small for a mini fridge.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” you said softly, glancing at the couch and putting your purse on it. Biting your lip, you removed the envelope with the money from the purse and placed it on top of the fridge.

Slowly returning your eyes to Julian, you saw him observing you quietly and not even glancing towards the envelope. You tried not to fidget as much as you wanted to under his attention, although your hands twitched at your sides as you forced yourself not to cross your arms.

“Can I touch you?” he asked quietly, tilting his head minutely as he locked his gaze with yours.

“Well, considering what's supposed to happen, I think that you will have to touch me, yes,” you laughed awkwardly and bit over your bottom lip.

Julian came closer, standing toe to toe, and lifted a hand to stroke his fingers along your neck and to your nape.

“I meant like this.”

His voice was low and intimate and sent shivers down your spine, as did his fingers on your already hot skin.

“Oh… um… yes, sure,” you breathed, unable to speak more loudly than a rough whisper.

He smiled, something soft but hiding more. You definitely wanted to find out about what this more entailed.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes were on your mouth, which parted in surprise at his question.

“Isn't there like — I thought — Shit, I must sound so stupid but… is it, like, a misconception of mine or… I always kinda thought that kissing wasn't… part of this?” you babbled, as your brain tried to deal with his request and the idea of him kissing you.

Julian chuckled, amused, and stroked his thumb along your chin.

“I'm not pretty woman.”

You laughed under your breath and sucked in your lower lip, some of your anxiousness leaving you at his easy joking.

“No… but you're definitely a pretty man.”

Julian's mouth moved into a sweet and genuine grin before he leaned in closer until his lips were only an inch away from yours.

“Some people don't like kissing. And I don't kiss all my clients… But I'd like to kiss you very much, if that's okay.”

His voice was husky and soft, and you were unable to do anything more than stare into his brown eyes and nod. He smiled, soft and pleased, and moved in.

His lips grazed over yours and your eyes fell shut at the feeling. You slowly moved your lips against his, following his lead, as he alternated between pressing them more firmly against yours or retreating until the touch was barely there. Just as slowly, his other hand curled around your waist, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. It was only then that you finally lifted your hands as well. You slid them up his back and held on to the fabric of his shirt at his shoulder blades. Your grip tightened as Julian tentatively stroked his tongue along your top lip, requesting access to your mouth. Access which you willingly granted. You made a small sound at the first touch of his tongue against yours. How could he make you already so weak in the knees with only a kiss? What would happen when he got to what you were initially paying him for? When his mouth slid towards your jaw, you instantly tilted your head to the side and moaned at the feeling of his teeth teasing along your skin. He ultimately stopped at where your neck met your shoulder and gently sucked at the spot.

“That okay?” he asked, his rougher voice making you shiver.

“Uh huh,” you panted.

After a minute of this, Julian’s mouth climbed up your neck again to reach your lips.

“Can I undress you?”

Your eyes opened a fraction as your fuzzy brain tried to process his question. As you bit your lip, Julian’s eyes slid to your mouth, before they returned to yours with… Could it be desire? Instead of contemplating what his look could possibly mean, you finally nodded in silent agreement before whispering a tiny, “Yes.”

Smiling, Julian kissed you again and rendered you just as breathless as earlier before he even began going for your clothes. He slowly pulled you forward as he walked you towards the bedroom, his lips and tongue still drawing moans and sighs from you. As you reached the bed, Julian pressed one last kiss against your lips, then stepped around you until he was standing at your back. He started removing every piece of clothing with slow and deliberate care, while his mouth teased at your nape and shoulders or behind your ears. Your entire body was wracked by shivers the further he went, until you were a trembling mess once he had you fully naked. His large hands slid over your sides and to your stomach, the heat and touch of them making goosebumps rise in their wake.

“Julian,” you gasped softly, not exactly knowing what you wanted to say. His name just fell from your lips at the gentle care he was handling you with.

“You’re so responsive,” Julian said with a note of wonder, as his fingers trailed up your chest and tickled between your breasts. He let out a soft chuckle as you arched your back and pressed your head against him when he circled his index fingers around your areolas. “So responsive.”

You exhaled sharply and moaned when he took both nipples between thumb and pointer finger and pinched them just the tiniest bit. By now, you could feel the dampness between your legs, and pressed your thighs together as Julian continued his sweet exploration. When you had asked him to make you come with his mouth, you had expected him to do just that; get you on a bed or couch and literally go down to business. Nothing more and nothing less. You certainly hadn’t thought that he’d treat you basically like a lover, touch you in ways that had never gotten this kind of reaction out of you. He’d commented on how responsive you were, but you had never reacted this way with anyone before, which either really said a lot about your previous partners or about Julian’s talent. Maybe a bit of both. One thing was certain, if this was the service he was giving to all his clients, then his reputation was no surprise. At all.

As one of his hands moved down your belly and towards your hips, he paused as he reached just above your mound.

“Can I use my hands too, or just my mouth?” he asked against the shell of your ear, getting yet another shiver out of you.

A wave of heat ran through you, and you felt yourself getting wetter still at the idea of having his fingers right there.

“Yes,” you breathed, before realizing that this didn’t answer his question, and you swallowed before you elaborated as best as you could. “Your fingers.”

Julian smiled against your skin, then licked his way down your neck and back up.

“Spread your legs a bit for me?”

Despite your shaky legs, you did as asked and widened your stance, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt against your bare back. Julian hummed pleasantly and wrapped his arm around you just under your breasts before he let his other hand continue down its original path. Your mouth parted for your gasped out breaths as Julian slid two fingers between your legs to stroke them along your outer lips, as if testing your response. Both of your hands went to the arm around your chest and gripped it, as Julian moved one of the fingers to your center to gently slide it through your folds.

“I think I’ll have a lot of fun making you come,” Julian said in a low tone, as he repeated the motion and lightly circled over your already pulsing clit.

You keened at the touch, your head falling forward as Julian kept teasing and teasing over the same spot, the touch featherlight but still managing to light your nerve endings on fire. All through the haze of need, you still realized that Julian hadn’t said “try to make you come”, instead, he was clearly confident that he would. By how this was going, you were less and less uncertain as well.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get comfortable on the bed?” he suggested after a minute.

Thankfully, and Julian probably knew to do it from experience, he didn’t pull back from you immediately after his request and let you gather your bearings enough to no topple over once he wouldn’t be behind you anymore. He slowly let go of you and let you walk out of his space in your own time. If you were honest with yourself, you could have stayed right where you had been all night, as long as Julian kept talking and touching you the way he’d done so far. Now that he wasn’t touching you anymore, a bit of self-consciousness returned, which stopped you from looking at him as you moved towards the bed and reclined on top of it, feeling suddenly exposed. Especially since he was still fully dressed.

“Look at me,” Julian said softly. It was a request, not an order.

It was this small difference that made you do as asked. You slowly met his gaze, and saw him smiling at you tenderly as he knelt on the foot end of the bed.

“You’re beautiful, Sweetheart.”

You uttered a surprised and shaky laugh and closed your eyes for a moment. When you looked back at him, you gave him a small smile and managed to relax against the pillows. Clearly pleased by your reaction, Julian pressed his other knee to the bed as well and moved up until his was kneeling in front of you. You’d bend your legs at the knees but had squeezed your thighs together. With his eyes on your face, Julian leaned down and placed a small kiss on each of your kneecaps, a tiny smile on his lips. The act had you giggling lightly and exhaling a deep breath. Your lips parted as Julian’s hands drifted down the outside of your thighs, only to move back up again, the touch soothing but also turning you on some more. You observed him as he kept pressing kisses along your knees, silently waiting for you to part your legs. As soon as you did, Julian shot you a pleased smile and proceeded to do the same thing he’d been doing to the outside of your thighs, but on the inside this time, and with his mouth. Air rushed past your lips at the ticklish yet arousing touch. You were unable to tear your eyes away from Julian’s head as he went further down until his mouth stopped at the juncture between hips and thighs. You were panting in anticipation at the idea of Julian finally moving to your center, except that he had other plans. He quickly turned his head to the other side and did the same as with the other leg but in the reverse, kissing his way up, until he was back at your knee. The small smirk he sent you had you groaning and squeezing your eyes shut. He was teasing you deliberately, and you had to admit that you liked it a lot. Your stomach quivered with need. Julian knew how to drive you high without even touching you where you needed him the most.

“Julian,” you breathed, as your fingers gripped the comforter at your hips. “Please?”

Julian ducked his head and shook it with a small, affectionate laugh.

“So responsive,” he mumbled, as if to himself. “Keep your eyes open,” he added with one last glance at you, before he knelt down all the way and pressed a long kiss against your mound.

Your mouth fell open as his tongue slowly flicked out and made its way down your outer lips. He traced patterns over them in such a way that you had no idea what he would be doing next; up, down, left, right, but never in the same order. At the first pass of his tongue through your folds, your eyes opened wide and the air came whooshing out of your throat sharply, accompanied by a surprised moan. Julian went slowly, taking his time as he drew his tongue over every part of you, leaving nothing untouched. When he began suckling at your lips teasingly, one of your hands automatically went to his head, your fingers gripping his soft hair.

“So — sorry,” you gasped at Julian’s grunt, and instantly let go of his hair.

Before you could retreat your hand all the way, Julian’s own hand shot out to snatch your wrist and pull your hand back to his head.

“Go ahead,” he said, looking up at you with intense eyes.

He spoke against your flesh, and the rush of air and small vibrations caused by his words had you uttering a small gasp. Licking your lips, you slid your fingers through his hair again. He had you tightening your grip again a second later when, with his eyes still on you, Julian sucked your clit right into his mouth. You cried out at the unexpected move and the pleasure coming from it. Your hips bucked into his face, and you had the need to apologize for that too, but Julian only groaned and held you tighter to him with his arms around your thighs. He took it easy after the first initial suck, clearly wanting to take his time there as well and not overwhelm you. You were grateful for that, since you were still unsure if hard and fast could do it for you, no matter how aroused you were after the foreplay. He still kept your hips from moving too much, making you take his ministrations with just the right intensity. As he nibbled around your lips before tonguing your clit with light strokes, you felt one of his arms let go of your legs and the hand moving to under your thigh.

“Only my mouth, or can I use my fingers too?” Julian asked again, except that this time, he meant if he could use them at the same time. Just the thought had you moaning without meaning to. How could you say no to having his talented mouth and gorgeous hands on you?

“Both… I want… both,” you got out, panting rapidly.

With his eyes on yours, Julian used his thumb to slowly rub through your drenched flesh, moving it up until he could press it against your clit and circle it a few times. You whimpered, unable to look away from him, and moaned long and high as he slid the thumb back to slip one of his large fingers inside you. As the second one followed, this time, you couldn’t keep your head from falling back and closing your eyes. Julian kept his fingers barely moving for a few seconds, before he had your eyes flying open again when his mouth descended on your clit to flick at it with the tip of his tongue. He sucked and lapped at his continuously, while his fingers started moving for real, curling against your walls with each plunge in and out.

You were… a mess.

Julian had transformed you into a moaning and begging ball of need, your fingers flexing in his hair or the comforter as your hips moved against his mouth and fingers on their own accord. It was with both surprise and no surprise that you felt the tendrils of your orgasm assembling in the spots where Julian was touching you. You could feel them coiling together, gathering and getting bigger and warmer as your belly contracted, and your legs began to shake without your control.

“Julian,” you gasped, sounding nearly panicked at the idea that he could stop and rip this feeling away from you.

But Julian never relented. He worked his mouth and lips like a magician with his best trick, his fingers adding the last element that had you suddenly flying over the edge with a shocked gasp as your hips bucked. Everything went white and silent as the peak of your orgasm hit you, pleasure of the most intense kind you’d ever felt with someone else being the only thing that registered with you. After the more intense part began to fade, you felt Julian kissing the inside of your thigh as he spoke to you in a low and soothing tone. Words of praise hit your ears and made your body glow with another form of pleasure. You slowly opened your eyes as you felt Julian coming to lie next to you on the bed, and turned your head to gaze at his smiling face. Since you were still drifting on the pleasure, you couldn’t even feel any form of embarrassment at the sight of his glistening nose, lips and chin. Julian reached across your body and pulled at the comforter to tug it around you. You smiled drowsily at the gesture and the softness of the fabric against your cooling skin. Julian held himself up on an elbow and put his head on his palm as he watched you. Despite the messy hair, which you were responsible for, the flushed and shiny face, and the wrinkled dress shirt, Julian still looked as gorgeous as always. Maybe even more so because he looked utterly relaxed and at ease. That thought had you wondering about Julian’s needs. Did he get aroused while doing this? Should he do something about it? Or maybe he didn’t get turned on at all and-

No.

You forbid yourself from letting your mind go down that road. This wasn’t a relationship. Julian didn’t have to get turned on by any of it. This had been about you, and Julian had gone above and beyond what you could have ever expected from this.

“Do you ever get actually turned on when you do something like that?” you asked anyway, your mouth not listening to your brain, apparently. “Wait, no, don’t answer that. I didn’t mean to ask this,” you groaned as you closed your eyes, and cursed under your breath.

Julian didn’t seem fazed and chuckled softly. “You’re sure?”

You glanced back at him and huffed in thought.

“I… I wasn’t asking if this…” you made a vague gesture at yourself as a whole. “Turned you on… I mean… I'm not expecting you to be… and I'm aware that escorts down always have sex with their clients but… um… I guess, I’m just… curious,” you sighed at the end of your word vomiting.

“About the mechanics?” Julian smiled, clearly not bothered by your curiosity or babbling.

You thought about that term and nodded. It was a job, after all. Julian shrugged and for a second, he got a far away look that held such a strong note of sadness in it that you nearly stopped him from going on before the look vanished completely and Julian smiled again.

“It’s a question of working with the moment, I guess. Creating a special connection with that person. Setting the mood… and, well, habit is a factor, I suppose. Let's say that being able to get it up is different from being turned on.”

You hummed thoughtfully as you took in the information. You were glad that you didn't ruin the moment and that he was willing to share as much.

“Well, you sure know how to create that connection,” you laughed softly and turned on your side.

Julian snorted softly through his nose and grinned at you, rubbing a hand over your covered arm once you faced him.

“Some connections are much easier to create than others.”

His soft look had you smiling and looking down, feeling suddenly shy again.

“Thank you for doing this, Julian,” you muttered, glancing up at him once more.

His hand moved to your face and his thumb stroked over your cheekbone in a gentle caress.

“It was my absolute pleasure, Sweetheart.”

And you actually believed him. Believed that he’d enjoyed giving you this pleasure, no matter if you’d paid for it.

You stared at him for a while, just looking, and Julian didn’t seem to mind.

“Do you have to get back?” you asked at length, looking around yourself for a clock, but not finding any.

Julian didn’t reply immediately, but he shrugged when you looked back at him.

“I can stay a little while longer.”

That statement had you smiling and closing your eyes. Julian’s fingers played with your hair as you drifted for a while, his presence and the comfortable bed pulling you under.

The next time you opened your eyes, he was gone. You hadn’t even realized that you’d fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been that long, however, since it was still dark outside. Turning around with a long sigh, you glimpsed a folded piece of paper on the bedside table. You sat up to reach for it, the comforter falling around your waist as you moved.

Please stay for as long as you want. The room’s all yours for the night. Take anything you need from the fridge, it’s on me.

Julian

You smiled fondly at the neat script and put the note back on the table.

A nice bath in a fancy hotel room sounded like the perfect way to end this incredible night.

#julian kaye x reader #bernthirst prompt fest #julian kaye #american gigolo #julian kaye x f!reader #reader insert #jon bernthal #mes fics #julian kaye smut

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